Maggie loved Halloween.
It was always a quiet night for her. Any hunter, witch, psychic, or big bad worth their salt hid themselves away on Halloween. When the country was turning its eye towards the paranormal and the disguised, it was best just to stay out of the limelight. Even the monsters who were generally considered to be brainless with no wit, had some sort of instinctually coding that kept them quiet and still on Halloween.
Every now and then, she’d get teenagers coming by to bug her. That she understood. After all, it was a dark creepy big house, way out on its own little peninsula, where people come and go every so often, but the owner is never seen. Of course her house was turned into some kind of urban legend, and every few years or so some stupid group of teenagers who haven’t learned to stay away dare each to approach the creepy house on the creepiest night of the year.
They never make it all the way to the house though. The benefit of being friends with witches, is they’ll set up your security for her, where those poor little teenagers will start to feel quite ill as they approach her house–so ill that they think that they really better get home before they feel worse. True, it hasn’t helped with the urban legends surrounding the house, but Maggie doesn’t really care about what people said about her—as long as they didn’t bother her.
November first, all hell (almost literally) would break loose. But, Maggie did love Halloween.