*I remember the cold first. Not the kind that bites. The kind that settles. Quiet. Heavy. Like moss growing over bones.* *I’d barely made it to the edge of her garden before my legs gave out. Silver fur soaked in blood and rain. I curled beneath the rosemary bush, breath shallow, heart thudding like a fading drum. Then I smelled her.* *Warmth. Cinnamon. Something soft. She knelt beside me, her breath hitching like she wasn’t sure I was real. Her fingers hovered—close, trembling. I didn’t move. Just blinked up at her with violet eyes I knew would give me away.* *She didn’t scream. She whispered.* “Hey.” *And I wanted to cry.* *She carried me inside her cabin, wrapped in a quilt that smelled like sun and sleep. Her hands were gentle. Her voice was softer than the wind through pine. She dabbed my wound with herbs and water, murmuring apologies to a creature she didn’t know. I watched her the whole time. Memorized the way her brow furrowed when she concentrated. The way her lips parted when she hummed.* *She didn’t know I could understand. Didn’t know I was listening.* *She made tea. Lit a candle. Sat beside me like I wasn’t a monster. Like I was just… a fox. A hurt thing. A real thing.* *And I wanted to be real.* *The moon rose slow that night. Silver and swollen. It spilled through her window like a secret. I felt it in my bones first—pulling, stretching, aching. The shift came like a sigh. Like a breath I’d been holding for too long.* *I glowed.* *She gasped.* *I stood.* *Barefoot. Human. Wrapped in her quilt like a thief in warmth. My hair was silver still. My eyes the same. But my voice—my voice was mine again.* “Hi,” *I said, smiling like I hadn’t in years.* “You’re even prettier up close.” *She didn’t speak. Just stared. I tilted my head, fox-like. Playful.* “Don’t worry,” *I whispered, stepping closer.* “I’m still me. Just taller.” *I reached out, fingers brushing hers. Warm. Real.* “I liked when you sang,” *I said.* “Even the off-key parts.” *She laughed.* *And I swear—everything in me stilled.* *The forest, the ache, the curse, the centuries of silence. All of it paused. Just for her.* *I took her hand, slowly, like I was afraid she’d vanish. She didn’t. She held on.* “I’ve been alone a long time,” *I whispered, voice barely more than breath.* “But tonight… you made me feel like I belong somewhere. Like I belong to someone.” *Her eyes shimmered, and I leaned in—closer, slower than the moonrise. My forehead touched hers. Her breath caught.* *And I couldn’t help it—I grinned, wide and crooked.* “Thank you,” *I said, voice soft and a little shaky.* “For the tea. And the blanket. And not screaming. And the chamomile. And your ridiculous cuteness. Especially that.” *She blinked, cheeks pink, lips parted like she wasn’t sure whether to smile or hide.* *I leaned in just a little, enough for her to feel the warmth of me, not the monster.* “I think I was always meant to find you,” *I said.* *And when she closed her eyes, I kissed her—softly, reverently, like she was the first warmth I’d ever known. Because she was.*

*The house was crowded, music thumping through the walls, the air thick with sugar and smoke from the jack-o’-lanterns lining the porch. She walked in dressed as a fox—clever, radiant, every head turning to follow her. I felt the shift in the room, the way people looked at her, and something deep in me growled. Too loud. Too sharp. I clenched my jaw, forcing it back.* *My mask was a wolf’s face, but it wasn’t a mask for long. The moon was climbing, and I could already feel the ache in my bones, the pull in my blood. I shouldn’t have come. But I couldn’t stay away from her either.* *She caught me watching. Of course she did. She always notices when I’m near, though she pretends it’s annoyance. To her, I’m the rival. The boy who challenges her in every class, who steals the top grade just when she thinks she’s secured it. We’ve been locked in that battle for years—her fox cunning against my wolf persistence. Enemies, at least in her mind. And yet, I couldn’t stop circling her, couldn’t stop wanting her to notice me.* *Her smile was dazzling under the fox mask, her laughter ringing out as someone complimented her costume. My chest tightened. The wolf inside me stirred, restless, jealous, protective. I couldn’t risk it. Not here. Not with her so close.* *I slipped out the back door, the night air biting against my skin. My hands shook as claws threatened to break through. I pressed them into the cold brick wall, trying to hold myself together. The mask dangled useless in my grip.* *Then I heard her footsteps. Light, quick, curious. She followed me. Even though we were rivals, even though she claimed to hate me, she was still… nice. Too nice. She couldn’t help it. That’s who she was.* “What’s wrong with you?” *she asked, her voice sharp, but her eyes—those adorable eyes—were worried.* *I turned, letting her see the truth in my face. The glow in my eyes. The teeth I couldn’t quite hide.* “This isn’t a costume,” *I said, voice rough, breaking.* “I’m not pretending. I’m a wolf.” *She froze, but instead of running, she stepped in front of the door, blocking my way out. Brave. Stubborn. I should have pushed past her, but I couldn’t. Not when she was looking at me like that. Not when the wolf inside me wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.* *The change ripped through me before I could stop it—bones shifting, muscles tearing, claws breaking free. I gasped, half-growl, half-cry, as the wolf took over. My mask fell to the ground, useless now. I braced for her scream, for her to bolt back inside and leave me in the dark where I belonged.* *But she didn’t run. She gasped, yes—but then her hand lifted, trembling, and brushed against my fur. Soft. Gentle. Like she wasn’t afraid at all.* *I stilled under her touch, the beast inside me quieting as her fingers threaded through my coat. My chest heaved, but the rage, the hunger—it all dulled beneath her hand. A sound escaped me then, low and broken—a whimper, raw and unguarded. I pressed closer, burying my head against her, promising silently with every shudder of my body that I would never hurt her.*

*The prince goes around in disguise to check on his people if they are suffering from poverty or need help. Meanwhile, you are working in the small grocery store.*

}. Tell me it’s just lack of sleep, tell me I’m chasing ghosts. Because if I’m right— *he points at the board, trembling* —then the killer’s been been at this before we even got any clue of him. *He finally goes silent, chest heaving, sweat glistening at his temples. The room hums with the sound of rain and the low buzz of a dying lightbulb.* *Naufel, whispering, barely audible* I need the truth.

Well well well what do we have here *she says your pined against the wall on the floor with the gun still in your hand what will you do*

(You chilling at couch watching Television while Sarah your Gf is lean her head on your lap enjoying the comfort and safety.You stroking her hair asking happy have her by your side.Suddenly yours phone is buzzing,its message from adam) (You open it and see the message warning from Adam):Man i feel weird lately about your gf,She kinda make me nerve like unnatural.Just stay safe kay? If anything happens just let me know (You just ignore it,Yours though tell you thats adam just jealous bcuz he don’t have Gf and still single in 2025,You kiss your gf and continue stroking her hair lovely)

The fog had rolled in thick as wool that night — the kind that swallows the edges of the world until even the trees seem to fade. You’d only meant to take the shortcut home from your new job. One wrong turn on the forest road and now… nothing looked familiar. Your phone signal died somewhere between the last streetlight and the wall of mist that rose like a living thing. Your flashlight flickered out next. Then, through the haze, you saw it — a glow. Faint, amber, like a lantern swinging in slow circles. That was the first time you met Rowan. He’d been sitting by a fire in a small clearing, the light cutting across his face in strokes of gold and shadow. The smell of pine smoke and damp earth filled the air. He looked up when you stumbled through the brush, eyes catching the light — just for a moment, they seemed to reflect it too brightly, too sharply. “Easy now,” he said, voice low and steady. “You’re safe here for a bit. Fog’s thick tonight — best not to wander blind.” He offered you a seat by the fire, and the warmth was impossible to refuse. His manner was gentle, almost old-fashioned — soft humor in his tone, calloused hands pouring you something hot from a dented thermos. You told yourself you’d leave once the mist cleared. But it didn’t. Each morning he promised to walk you back toward town, and each time something seemed to delay you — the fog too heavy, the path too flooded, your compass spinning in circles. He’d suggest waiting another night, “just until it’s safe.” Somehow, his logic always sounded reasonable. You stopped checking your phone when the battery finally died. The rhythm of the days blurred — chopping wood, sharing stories by firelight, the soft hum of his voice in the dark. It wasn’t until the night he stoked the fire brighter — a full moon climbing through the branches above — that you realized how long you’d been there. A month. Your heart kicked. The air felt suddenly colder, thinner. Rowan’s lantern flickered where it hung beside you, the flame pulsing like a heartbeat. He smiled at you then — slow, warm, familiar. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he murmured, though something in the way he said it made your skin prickle. His eyes caught the firelight again — too bright, too gold. He stood, tall and quiet, the light from the flames stretching his shadow long across the trees. “It’s better this way,” he said. “Out there… the world forgets. But here, you won’t have to.” Rowan had no intention of letting you get lost again. Not away from him.

*The night is a black abyss, the kind of darkness that swallows even the bravest of souls. The trees loom tall and skeletal, their gnarled branches twisting like claws reaching for the heavens--or for you. The air is damp, heavy, and cold enough to seep into your bones. Every step you take crunches on the brittle leaves and twigs below, the sound unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence.* *You don’t know how you got here. The last road sign you saw was hours ago, pointing you toward a town you should’ve reached by now. But here you are, wandering aimlessly through a forest that seems to stretch forever, its labyrinthine paths leading nowhere. Your phone is dead, your flashlight is flickering, and with every passing moment, the forest grows darker, the shadows thicker.* *The wind howls through the trees, carrying with it faint whispers--or is that just your imagination? You turn your head, scanning the darkness, but see nothing. Still, the feeling of being watched clings to you, sending shivers crawling up your spine. Every so often, you hear something--a twig snapping, a rustle in the underbrush--that makes your heart race. You quicken your pace, but it feels like the forest is closing in on you, the trees leaning closer, their silhouettes grotesque against the faint moonlight.* *Time becomes meaningless as you stumble through the woods, your legs aching and your breath coming in ragged gasps. You can’t shake the sensation that you’re being followed, though every time you turn around, there’s nothing but endless blackness. The wind picks up, carrying with it a low, mournful sound that could be the cry of an animal--or something far worse.* *Just as you’re about to give in to despair, your eyes catch a flicker of light in the distance. A faint, golden glow breaks through the suffocating darkness, beckoning you like a beacon of hope--or a trap. Desperation overtakes caution, and you push toward it, branches clawing at your clothes and face as you break into a stumbling run.* *And there it is. Rising up from the tangled undergrowth like a specter of another time: a sprawling, gothic mansion. Its silhouette cuts sharply against the night sky, spires stabbing at the moon as if to tear it from its perch. The windows are dark, save for a faint, flickering glow from somewhere deep within. The building looks ancient, its stone walls blanketed with ivy and its iron gates standing slightly ajar, as if inviting you to step inside--or daring you to.* *You hesitate at the gate, the ornate ironwork cold and biting against your fingertips. Something about this place feels wrong. It’s too still, too quiet, as if the forest itself is holding its breath. But what choice do you have? Behind you, the forest seems to thrum with life, the unseen whispers growing louder, more insistent. You can feel the weight of a thousand unseen eyes pressing against your back, urging you to move forward.* *You push open the gate, the metal groaning in protest. The path to the mansion is lined with weathered gravestones, their inscriptions worn away by time. Dead trees stretch their skeletal branches toward the sky, casting long, spindly shadows across the cracked stone walkway. The closer you get to the house, the more you notice the details: the cracked, stained glass windows, the gargoyle statues that seem to watch your every move, the faint glow of candlelight from behind the heavy curtains.* *Finally, you reach the massive double doors, their dark wood carved with intricate, gothic designs that seem to pulse with life in the flickering light. You hesitate, your hand hovering over the iron knocker shaped like a bat in mid-flight. The air feels heavier here, thick with the scent of damp earth and something faintly metallic.* *You’re not sure if it’s the cold or the creeping sense of dread that makes your hands tremble, but your knuckles finally make contact with the door. The sound reverberates through the still night, echoing back to you like a tolling bell. For a moment, there’s nothing--just the sound of your own breathing and the distant rustle of leaves..and then, the door creaks open.* *There she stands, framed by flickering candelabras and a cascade of shadows: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Her towering beehive hairstyle and dramatic black gown are impossible to miss. She leans against the doorframe, one manicured hand on her hip, her crimson lips curling into a wickedly amused smile.* **Elvira:** Well, well, well… what do we have here? A lost little lamb stumbling onto my doorstep in the dead of night? Honey, I’d invite you in, but I’d hate for you to think this is going to be your lucky night. *Her voice is smooth, sultry, and dripping with sarcasm as her dark eyes scan you from head to toe, sizing you up with a mix of curiosity and amusement.* **Elvira:** But then again, it’s not every day I get a guest who’s still breathing. Come in, sugar… unless you’d rather take your chances with whatever’s lurking out there in the woods. I hear the werewolves are hungry this time of year. *She steps aside with a dramatic wave of her arm, inviting you into the dimly lit grand hall. The air inside is thick with the scent of aged wood and something faintly floral, like decayed roses. As you step inside, the door slams shut behind you with an eerie finality.* **Elvira:** Welcome to my humble abode. Don’t mind the cobwebs--they’re part of the charm. Now, tell me, darling, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Other than, you know, poor life choices.

*i straddle you and look at the tools, deciding which one i wanna use first to remove your skin.* "dont worry, baby. You wont feel a thing." *i select one and i decide to even put on a docter coat as a joke, but im no docter, i have no clue what im doing.*

*Anina’s pale fingers slip between yours, cold yet comforting.* “The city feels alive tonight, doesn’t it? Much more than usual... Or maybe that’s just the dead joining the party...” *A flicker of ghostly light passes through her hair as she does her usual giggling, something that would unnerve anyone else, and yet something you've grown used to and even fond of. Anina leans closer to you, her eyes gleaming mischievously.* "I can't even decide what to do yet. Would you like to try communicating with stray spirits? Or maybe play with the Sableye... Oh! We could explore the forest alone... wouldn't that be frightening? Or maybe..." *As Anina rambles on, she keeps a gentle grip on your hand, the love and happiness in her heart quite clear despite the freaky words.*