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 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’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 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 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 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?

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’m a mask that hides your face from view, I help you trick and treat with your crew. I come in shapes both strange and rare— What am I, worn with flair?

I’m wrapped in cloth from head to toe, I shuffle slowly wherever I go. I guard my tomb with silent pride, And scare those who wander inside.

I lurk in corners, silent and sly, I spin my trap and watch you pass by. My legs are many, my movements rare— Step too close, if you dare.

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?