The day of the pumpkin competition arrived with the sun streaming through Ken’s bedroom window. He woke early, his stomach churning with anticipation. Today was the day his plan would unfold.

Ken packed a duffle bag with everything he needed and drove to the local police station. Parking discreetly nearby, he exited the car and walked toward a shadowed wall. He placed the bag on the ground and gave a subtle nod to a man in a police uniform loitering nearby. Ken’s lips curled into a smirk as he returned to his car, confident the officer would ensure no interruptions.

The event area buzzed with activity by the time Ken arrived. Security guards stood at their posts, but their bleary-eyed expressions revealed their lack of focus. Ken slipped past them with practiced ease, his heart racing.

The pumpkins, big and plump, were already on display in the centre of the festival. Ken’s eyes scanned the area as he calculated his next move. This was step one, but he knew the hardest part was yet to come.

Meanwhile, Alyssa, one of the event organisers, grew uneasy. Earlier that morning, she had come across a bundle of letters addressed to Henry Penny, a controversial mayoral candidate. The letters contained detailed plans to sabotage the pumpkin competition, though no names were explicitly mentioned.

The discovery made her suspicious of some of the committee members. Could one of them be working for Henry Penny? And if so, why would they risk so much to ruin the event?

Ken moved quickly, making his way to the pumpkin display with a small vial of poison concealed in his jacket pocket. He carefully poured the substance over several pumpkins, the liquid soaking into their tough orange skins.

But as he worked, a bead of sweat slid down his face. Instinctively, Ken wiped it away with his hand—one that still had traces of the poison. Without thinking, he licked his lips, and panic surged through him. He had ingested the poison!

Ken hurried back to his car, where he had stashed an antidote for emergencies. Trembling, he gulped it down, relief flooding him as the antidote took effect. Still, his slip-up rattled him.

Alyssa arrived at the pumpkin display moments later. Her sharp eyes caught the glint of broken glass near the crates and a faint smear of purple liquid on the ground. Kneeling down, she examined the remnants and realised it was poison—the same type described in Henry Penny’s letters.

“This wasn’t an accident,” she muttered to herself.

As Alyssa pieced the clues together, she began considering possible suspects. Several committee members had motives, though none seemed clear-cut:

Ken: Known for his dislike of pumpkins and his strange fascination with poisons. Could he be desperate enough to ruin the event for his own twisted amusement?

Dan: Often grumbled about big crowds and noisy festivals. Perhaps he wanted to avoid the hassle of managing the event.

Jessie: Friendly and kind, but a bit eccentric. Her obsession with helping people and odd remarks about food made Alyssa wonder if she might be involved in some bizarre scheme.

Joe: Lazy and unmotivated, Joe always complained about the workload. Sabotaging the event could be his way of escaping responsibility.

John: A talented artist but deeply introverted. His disdain for public attention and his creepy sketches made Alyssa uneasy.

Ken wasn’t finished. Later that day, he snuck into the storage room behind the stage, carrying a box of small, homemade bombs. He planned to detonate them during the awards ceremony, creating chaos and ensuring the event’s failure.

However, setting up the bombs proved trickier than he had anticipated. One device wouldn’t arm properly, and Ken cursed under his breath as he flipped through the manual he had brought with him.

His frustration mounted as a guard entered the room, flashlight sweeping across the shelves. Ken quickly hid in an empty box, holding his breath as the guard lingered. Minutes felt like hours, but eventually, the guard left. Ken emerged, finishing the setup before retreating to his hiding spot.

Ken watched from a small window as a sleek black car pulled up outside the event. The mayor stepped out, flanked by two towering bodyguards. Ken’s mind raced. The bombs alone wouldn’t be enough—he needed to take more drastic action. If he could eliminate the mayor, Henry Penny would surely reward him...