GUNNER COX

"PUNKIN" SCARY ACRES OMAHA, NEBRASKA

PUNKIN: THE HARVEST CURSE

Long ago in a forgotten corner of the Midwest, there was a traveling carnival known for its disturbing sideshow—a childlike trickster named Punkin, dressed in a ragged orange jumpsuit, glowing sticks always in hand, and a doll that whispered secrets only he could hear. Punkin wasn’t a performer by choice—he was cursed, bound to the carnival after a Halloween prank went horribly wrong.

As the legend goes, Punkin was once a mischievous boy who loved scaring townsfolk on All Hallows’ Eve. One night, he dared to steal from the wrong pumpkin patch—one guarded by something ancient and vengeful. He carved a mocking face into the largest gourd and danced under the blood moon, laughing as shadows twisted around him.

That night, the pumpkin fused to his soul. His laughter turned into eerie giggles that echoed in the wind. He became the carnival’s eternal jester—never aging, always glowing, a childlike figure with eyes too old to belong to any kid. Haunted by a puppet that mirrored his past self, he performed in neon-lit corridors, spreading chaos and glee in equal measure.

But curses evolve.

One October, the blood moon rose again. The doll he carried vanished. The glowsticks snapped and bled black sap. Pain split his mask of joy. And then… he changed.

From within, the true harvest demon emerged.

Rotting and wreathed in smoke, a hulking figure with a grotesque pumpkin head and a charred, vine-covered body clawed its way out—The Reaping Form of Punkin. No laughter. No toys. No mercy.

But the childlike form didn’t disappear entirely. The giggling clown version of Punkin still surfaces—this time with a new toy: a filthy, oinking dog pig he clutches like a best friend. He squeaks it during scares, whispers to it when no one’s around, and lets it “speak” for him in the dark.

Now, Punkin exists in two forms:

🤡 Punkin – Chaotic, playful, glowing. Loves pranks, tricks, and squeaking his little pig in your face before giggling off into the shadows.

🎃 The Harvest Punkin – Silent, massive, and ancient. The harvest reaper. No toys. No words. Just footsteps… and fate.

If you hear the pig squeak, the Trickster is near.

If you hear nothing at all… the Reaper is already behind you.