Golden Box Book Publishing Three Ghosts in a Black Pumpkin | Page 8

Prologue
Hobart T Goblin looked out the open window of his chamber
high atop his castle of Crag Heap. Far below, he could see his
courtyard, his servants and soldiers, and beyond that, the whole
town of Goblin Acres. He watched his subjects performing their
duties and going on with their little Goblin lives.
All this is mine, he thought. But I want more and I will have
more. I will have it all: Gnome Town, Gremlinville, Troll
Haven, Impburg, Pixieland, Ogre Mountain… the whole world
of Creepy Hollow will soon be mine!
Standing only 4-feet tall, Hobart was nonetheless something of
an imposing figure. His large, floppy ears fanned his face as he
walked, and when his ears flopped forward his long beaklike
nose stuck out between them like a pointing finger.
His thin lips broke into a grin showing his sharp fangs as he
jutted his pointy chin forward. “Once upon a time.” he
murmured under his breath, “I was just an ordinary Goblin, but
look at me now! I am great, I am powerful, and I am
Hobgoblin, the Master of Goblin Acres.”
He turned from the window and lifted his skinny, green leg to
take a proud step forward. His boney knees bent and cracked as
he took another step toward his favorite chair and put his hands,
with their vulture’s claw-like fingers, on his hips when he saw
his henchman standing on his chair.
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