Title: Night of Terror! CUTIS Ran Away in Fear When He Saw a Ghost 🙏

It was a calm and quiet evening on the farm. The moon hung high, casting silver light over the grassy fields, and the air was cool and still. CUTIS, the clever little monkey everyone loved, had just finished his dinner—a bowl of sweet bananas and warm milk prepared lovingly by Uncle Phong. Normally, this would be the time CUTIS would curl up in his soft blanket and drift off to sleep. But tonight… something felt different. Strange. Eerie.

CUTIS paced around the wooden porch of the house, looking out at the shadows dancing beneath the trees. The wind whistled in a strange way—soft, yet whispery, like someone was breathing just behind him. He turned around quickly, but there was no one. Only the rocking chair swaying slowly on its own, creaking like an old door. CUTIS frowned. That chair hadn’t moved a minute ago.

Suddenly, a loud rustling came from the bushes nearby. CUTIS jumped. “Probably just a bird,” he thought, trying to calm himself. But then he remembered what the neighbor’s kid had said earlier that day—how people believed the farm was haunted. That long ago, a traveler disappeared near the big mango tree and was never seen again. CUTIS had laughed then, but now… his little heart began to race.

He stepped off the porch, curiosity mixed with fear. His tiny feet made no sound as he tiptoed through the yard, guided only by moonlight. The trees swayed gently, but something about the way their shadows moved felt… wrong. As he reached the mango tree, CUTIS froze.

A pale, floating figure hovered just above the ground, glowing faintly. It had no legs, just a long white cloak that moved like mist. Two dark holes where eyes should be stared straight at CUTIS.

For a full second, everything stopped. No wind. No crickets. No movement.

Then, CUTIS screamed.

Not a cute squeak like when he’s surprised, but a full-on, high-pitched shriek that echoed through the entire property. He turned and bolted, arms flailing, heart pounding like a drum.

“G-g-g-ghost!” he yelled as he ran past the chicken coop, waking every single hen. They flapped and clucked wildly, adding to the chaos. The old goat, who had been dozing near the barn, leaped up in confusion and started running too. It looked like a mini stampede in the moonlight, with CUTIS leading the way.

He ran through the vegetable patch, tripping over a pumpkin vine, somersaulting and landing in a pile of hay. But even the soft landing didn’t stop him—he jumped back up and darted straight into the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

Inside, Uncle Phong, half-asleep in his chair, jumped in shock. “CUTIS! What on earth?!”

CUTIS pointed to the window, wide-eyed and shaking. “Ghost… ghost… outside!”

Uncle Phong blinked, rubbed his eyes, and walked to the window. “Where?”

CUTIS hid behind the couch, peeking out with only his eyes showing. “Mango tree,” he whispered.

Uncle Phong squinted into the night. For a few moments, there was nothing. Then… he saw it too. A figure. White. Floating.

But Uncle Phong didn’t scream. Instead, he sighed and chuckled. “Oh no. Not this again.”

CUTIS looked confused. “Again?”

Uncle Phong opened the door slowly and walked outside. CUTIS peeked through the curtain, terrified but curious. As Uncle Phong neared the ghost, he reached out and tugged at the figure.

It didn’t scream. It didn’t vanish. It didn’t do anything ghostly.

Instead, it collapsed into a heap of fabric.

“See, CUTIS?” Uncle Phong said, holding up the sheet. “It’s just laundry. You know how windy it gets at night. The wind must have pulled the sheet off the clothesline and got it stuck on the tree.”

CUTIS blinked.

A white bedsheet. Not a ghost.

He stepped out of the house slowly, his fear turning into embarrassment. His cheeks turned red beneath his fur. Uncle Phong patted him gently on the head. “It’s okay, little buddy. Everyone gets scared sometimes.”

“But it… looked real,” CUTIS murmured.

“It sure did. But sometimes, our imagination plays tricks on us—especially at night. That’s why it’s important to be brave and also to ask for help.”

CUTIS nodded slowly. He looked back at the mango tree. In the moonlight, with the sheet gone, it looked completely normal again. No glowing, no floating, no creepy shadows.

Later that night, Uncle Phong tucked CUTIS into bed. He gave him a warm blanket and a little stuffed monkey to hold.

“You were very fast tonight,” Uncle Phong said with a laugh. “You scared the chickens more than the ‘ghost’ scared you.”

CUTIS giggled a little, now that he could laugh about it. “I was just… making sure everyone was safe!”

“Of course,” Uncle Phong replied, kissing his forehead. “You’re our little guardian.”

CUTIS closed his eyes, heart finally calm, body warm and safe. As he drifted off to sleep, he whispered to himself, “Next time, I’ll be brave… maybe.”

The night returned to its peaceful rhythm. No more screams, no more flying sheets. Just the sound of leaves rustling gently, and a little monkey dreaming of bananas and heroic adventures—not ghosts.

But the next morning, CUTIS had one more surprise.

When he stepped outside, the chickens glared at him. The goat looked grumpy. And someone had drawn a cartoon of him on the barn wall—with wide eyes and a ghost sheet floating behind him.

CUTIS huffed. “Very funny, guys.”

But deep down, he knew it was a little funny. And from that day forward, CUTIS had a new nickname on the farm: Ghostbuster CUTIS.

And even though he still avoided the mango tree at night, he always carried a flashlight—just in case.