The eerie chill of the forest clings to you as you make your way through the twisted, shadowy trees. You’ve barely adjusted to the strange feeling of this world—where everything seems both alive and dead at the same time—when you hear a sudden rustling from behind.

“Hey, you! What’re you doing here?”

You turn quickly, startled by the voice. Standing there is a tall, wiry boy, maybe around your age. His hair sticks up wildly, and a pair of red horns curve out from the sides of his head. He’s smirking, though it’s not exactly the warm, welcoming kind. His expression is sharp and mischievous, like he’s already scheming something. In one hand, he casually twirls a pitchfork.

“Name’s Lock,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he sizes you up. "You're not from around here, huh? Don’t think I’ve seen you in Halloween Town before." He tilts his head, his grin widening as though he’s just figured something out.