I hope this missive finds you in a place of safety and warmth, for the most accursed eve of the year is upon us once more. Frightening creatures and phantoms beyond our mortal comprehension prowl this long night. For mere minutes have I been returned from a sojourn of my own, accompanying a tiny lost soul on a voyage through darkened streets, calling upon doors and seeking some small comforts from those who haunt the residences chosen by his hand.

Now that I am once again within my home and that tiny soul has found some respite for the remainder of this night, I have turned to an elixir to bolster my spirits against the lurking horrors just without my walls. This potion is itself an Abomination of sorts, a Forbidden Pumpkin amidst the grinning gourds of All Hallows' Eve. Pray for me, dear reader, that this chill draft might put my mind in a state to forget the terror of the gossamer-thin veil.

Much to my dismay, my research into the alchemists whose wills crafted this concoction is fruitless. All that can be found is but a statement: "Crafting liquid chaos." This purpose behind this Abomination does not bode well for me!

I would be remiss if I were to imply that my searches for insight into the contents of my drinking vessel were for naught. Nay, I have some few words to report, for a description of the potion is clearly inscribed upon its label! With a strength of nine and three-tenths alcohol by volume, this Forbidden Pumpkin is an India Pale Ale of the milkshake variety. Milk sugar is but one of its abhorrent ingredients, alongside vanilla, spices, and--sit now lest this announcement cause you to swoon--pumpkin! Aye, that very autumnal gourd itself!

I beg you now to please remain where you sit, for what I have to relate at this moment is a brief tale so harrowing I cannot believe that I live yet to tell it. When I retrieved this intoxicating elixir from where I had previously set it to chill, a shadow swept along the wall. I spied it from but the corner of my eye. Yet, when I moved to begin writing, I saw her perched upon her unholy seat: Henrietta the Horrid! Her wicked gaze pierced my soul, compelling me to approach her, that I might offer unto her but a waft of my Forbidden Pumpkin. Thereupon she deigned herself sniff the potion. Once, twice, thrice did she breathe in its contents. At last, after she had given a total of seven whiffs was she appeased. She released me before vanishing, returning to the night until the next season of the pumpkin.

In my great relief, I, too, thought to probe the bouquet of Forbidden Pumpkin. I was greeted at once with sharp hop aromatics, verdant and floral. Beyond this are but hints of vanilla and pumpkin. The spices foretold upon the potion itself and wholly absent here. Will they present themselves upon my imbing of the brew?

Yes, they do! In fact, all promised aspects of the Forbidden Pumpkin are well accounted for within its palate! My pulls all grant me access to vanilla, brown sugar, pumpkin, nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon. Those verdant hops that I described previously are here, albeit danker and darker. I feel the warmth of the beverage with its immense strength filling me, granting me fortitude against all that may yet haunt me this evening.

Perhaps this night's Abomination is forbidden due to how sharp it is upon my tongue. Its bite is not unlike that of a werewolf or vampire bat, terrible and strong, yet comforting once I give into it.

Were I to offer a summation of my feelings on this Abomination's Forbidden Pumpkin potion, I would do so in numerical form, that you might easily intuit my intent. That would be a nine and a half out of a total of ten. I know that somewhere out in the darkness of my neighborhood, horrors unknown lurk yet. However, I now feel a warming peace. Regardless, I still cannot put those horrors forever from my mind. 

Before I leave you, dear reader, all I can do is wish a Happy Halloween unto you. May this night be kind. May you not see what stirs upon the far side of the ever-thinning veil.