I’m a scarecrow’s cousin, tall and thin, I wear a cloak and a wicked grin. I guard the fields when night is near, And chase away what dares come near.

I rise from sleep when the sun goes down, I wear a cape and never frown. I fear the light and garlic’s sting— I vanish fast with silent wings.

I creep through the graveyard, quiet as air, My clothes are torn, and I give you a scare. Who am I?

I’m a spell that makes you float or freeze, I twist your thoughts and bend your knees. I’m cast with words both sharp and sly— What am I, when witches try?

I roar and I fly, I breathe fire with might, I guard my treasure and give knights a fright. What am I?

I rattle in the night and rest in a box, I’m made of bones and wear no socks. What am I?

I’m a room that’s dark and full of fear, With creaky doors and whispers near. You enter brave, but leave unsure— What am I, behind that door?

I’m a creature with claws and a chilling purr, I sneak through shadows with silent fur. I cross your path and bring you dread— Especially when my eyes glow red

I’m a sound that echoes through the trees, I chill your spine and stir the breeze. I come from wolves when the moon is bright— What am I, in the dead of night?

I’m a potion bubbling with eerie steam, I shimmer green and make you scream. I’m stirred by witches with crooked hands— What am I, in spooky lands?

I’m a scarecrow’s friend, a harvest guest, I ride the wind and never rest. I rustle leaves and chill the air— I whisper secrets everywhere.

I shimmer in the dark and rise with dread, I’m neither alive nor truly dead. I drift through rooms without a care, Leaving behind a chilly air.

I’m a knock that comes when night is near, I ask for treats and bring good cheer. I wear a smile and sometimes roar— What am I, at your door?