It began with an email:
“URGENT – Payment Request, CEO Approval Needed.”
It looked real. Same signature. Same tone. Just one letter off in the sender’s address.

Late at night, the finance assistant felt uneasy but replied anyway.
Minutes later, the funds were gone – wired into the dark.

By morning, the real CEO denied sending anything. The hacker had copied writing styles, replied within old threads, even used stolen email signatures.
When IT checked the logs, every trace was wiped – except one message left behind:

“I’m still here.”

Now, every Halloween, staff remember the ghost that lived in their inbox –  and how easily trust can be hacked.

Remember, verify before you comply. Don’t let curiosity cost you.

The blinking cursor was the last thing he saw. A week ago, it was a nuisance—now, it was a predator, silently watching. It had started with small things, a misplaced file, a typo corrected before he made it. Then came the emails, perfectly written, mimicking his family’s tone so precisely that he replied without thought.

His digital life was no longer his. The accounts, the messages, the passwords—they all belonged to something else, something that lived in the shadows of the network. He tried to disconnect, but the presence was already in his smart home. The lights flickered, the thermostat dropped to freezing, and the digital photo frame shuffled to a picture of his horrified face.

The screen glowed ominously, a single line of text appearing: “I’m inside now. Don’t look behind you.” He screamed, dropping the laptop. From the corner of his eye, a shadow detached itself from the wall, stretching towards him. He was trapped, not in a house, but in a code, a ghost in his own machine.

Once upon a time there was a man called Joe.

Joe was a very kind, endearing man, he would speak to anyone about anything and put smiles on people’s faces.

However, this would prove to be his downfall.

Joe was walking into work one morning and with his wholesome actions he held open the door for a person that he thought would be his colleague.

Little did he know he opened the door for an intruder which would start roaming around the office, eavesdropping, looking around desks for Post-It notes with personal information, using his USB to push out viruses to employee’s computers.

Who knows what else he could have done on his Cyber-rampage, and what he did with all of this information that he stole.

Cybersecurity is not only about what happens online but could also be physical threats that we also need to look out for.

It was a dark and stormy night in the IT department. Taylor Smith, a second-line support, was sipping lukewarm coffee when suddenly—ping!—an alert popped up: “Unauthorised access detected. Source: Unknown. OS: Windows 10.”

He froze. Windows 10? That machine was supposed to be retired last Halloween.

He tiptoed to the server room, flashlight in hand. The air was cold. Too cold. A monitor flickered to life on its own, displaying a message:

“I never updated… and now I update you.”

Suddenly, ransomware named CryptKeeper.exe began encrypting files while playing creepy elevator music. The printer started printing out ASCII skulls. The coffee machine screamed.

Taylor yanked the power cord—but the machine laughed.

“You can’t unplug fear.”

Moral of the story? Patch your systems. Or they’ll patch you… permanently.