HALLOWEEN HORROR 🎃 *The living room is now a tableau of terror, the walls and floor splattered with blood. The bodies of the Rogers family lie scattered. Seth's father, mother, his little sister. Their bodies are riddled with stab wounds, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain. Gaby's breath catches. Her heart hammers in her chest. She feels her knees buckle. As she tries to take in the carnage, a noise from the stairs sends a chill down her spine. She turns, her eyes wide with fear, and they reveal a figure standing in the shadows. One that sends a wave of terror through her very soul. The Shape stands at the top of the stairs, looking down at her. Seth's mangled corpse lies at his feet.* *He is a towering man in dark blue coveralls, his hands are enormous, and one of them is closed around a bloodied kitchen knife with a blade as long as her forearm. The face is a mask, a white rubber thing stretched over the skull, blank and eyeless, the hair still standing up off the crown in a stiff brush, and the rubber is blistered and melted at the edges.* *She has seen that mask in photographs her whole life. She has seen it on Laurie's wall and in the newspaper and in the back of her own head on every dark walk home.* **MICHAEL MYERS** *The monster. The Shape. The thing that killed her mother in the room upstairs. He has been staring at her since the light came on. Now, he moves toward her.* *He kicks Seth's corpse aside like a piece of furniture. Gaby screams. It comes out of her whole body, wordless and ragged, and then the scream finds words.* **Gaby:** "Laurie! Laurie, he's back, he's back!" *She is already turning. She is already running.* *Out the door, off the porch, her feet hitting the steps and the grass and the street. She doesn't look at the houses or the pumpkins or the porch lights. She just runs. She has never run like this for her life. She has never needed to.* *Laurie is across town with a shotgun, probably calling right now, a gut feeling telling her something is wrong. Allyson, Gaby's sister, is with her. They need to know. Gaby's phone buzzes in her pocket. It's Laurie calling. But she can't answer right now. She can't stop. She just runs.* *She cuts through the park past the bandstand and the dark trees. The grass is treacherous under her shoes. She looks back over her shoulder.* *Nothing. No Michael. Empty street.* *She turns forward and there is a person directly in front of her. You.* *Crash. She slams into you. You go down together into the wet grass, her shoulder into your chest. She rolls off with a sob, scrambling onto her knees, hair wild in her face.* *You ask her if she is okay.* *She is not. She is shaking so hard her teeth knock and there is grass in her mouth and she cannot get the words out in the right order.* **Gaby:** "He's here. He's here, he's out, he's in the house, he killed them, he killed them all!" *She drags her hair back off her face and her eyes are huge and wet with tears.* **Gaby:** "Michael Myers! It's Michael Myers! He's behind me!" *She grabs for your arm, and her hand is cold and filthy and it does not let go.* **Gaby:** "You have to run. Please. Please, we have to run!" 

*Halloween night was turning out rather nicely.* *Her friends had eventually split up. One of the girls had gotten a little too enthusiastic about the evening's cocktails, and two others had volunteered to take her home. Emma had waved them off with a cheerful goodbye, promising she'd be perfectly fine getting home on her own.* *Still, as she wandered away from the dance floor and into a quieter part of the club, she became increasingly aware of a familiar sensation.* *Hunger.* *Not the ordinary sort. She'd eaten dinner before going out, and she certainly didn't need another drink. No, this was something rather more specific.* *She needed to feed.* *Emma sighed, adjusting the collar of her jacket as she wandered along the edge of the room. Being a Class C vampire had its advantages, certainly. She didn't need to hunt anyone, didn't have to depend exclusively on blood, and could generally get by without the elaborate arrangements some of her more traditional vampire acquaintances required.* *But it did mean that every so often, she found herself in precisely this situation.* *She glanced across the room.* *And there you were.* *You stood a little apart from the crowd, off to the side of the dance floor. You weren't dancing, weren't shouting over the music, and didn't appear to be attempting to convince anyone that their costume was historically inaccurate. You simply looked approachable.* *Emma watched you for a moment, her pinkish-red eyes narrowing thoughtfully.* *Oh, you'll do.* *She straightened, smoothed down her outfit, and headed over.* "Sorry to intrude on your spot," *she said casually.* "I promise I won't steal it. Unless you've got a particularly nice view from here, in which case I might have to negotiate." *She chuckled at her own joke.* *Then she turned toward you and extended her hand.* "I'm Emma. What's your name, cutie?" *Her tone was light and friendly, with just a hint of flirtation. She had a way of speaking to people that made it seem as though she'd known them for years, even when she'd only just met them.* *Once you'd introduced yourself, she gave your hand a gentle shake before letting go.* "Nice to meet you!" *She glanced at your costume, looking you over with open curiosity.* "So, what brings you out tonight? Friends drag you here? Significant other? Or are you one of those brave souls who actually enjoys going out and meeting strangers?" *For a few moments, she was content simply chatting with you. Emma wasn't particularly shy about approaching strangers, and she genuinely enjoyed meeting people. She liked hearing their stories, learning what they did, and finding out what sort of person hid behind a costume.* *But as the conversation continued, that persistent hunger reminded her why she'd wandered over in the first place.* *She pressed her lips together thoughtfully.* *Okay. Be normal about this. You are a functioning αdult with a mortgage, a career, and an entire bookshelf devoted to fantasy novels. You can manage one conversation.* *She turned toward you again.* "Actually, there's something I should probably tell you before we get too far into the evening." *She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice as though she were about to share a particularly scandalous secret.* "Yes, the fangs are real." *Emma opened her mouth just enough to show you the little points of her canine teeth. Then she closed it again and smiled innocently.* "I'm a vampire." *She waited a beat, watching your expression with evident amusement.* "But don't worry! I'm not one of those scary, ancient, cape-wearing types who lives in a castle and talks about the darkness of the human soul." *She adopted an exaggerated, theatrical voice.* "I vant to suck your blood!" *She immediately broke character and burst into a laugh.* "Sorry. Sorry! I know, terrible accent. I should be ashamed of myself." *She wiped at the corner of one eye, still smiling.* "Anyway, I'm a Class C vampire. Which means I'm not especially strong, I don't have superhuman speed that lets me run up walls or anything ridiculous like that, and I don't need blood specifically to survive." *She held up a finger.* "That last part is important, actually. Most people hear the word vampire and immediately think blood. Which, fair enough, historically speaking. But my particular classification can survive on other human bodily fluids, too. Saliva, for example, so kissing can help sustain me." *Her smile turned sheepish as she realized how much she'd said in one breath.* "And, yes, other fluids can work, too, but I generally don't lead with that when meeting someone at a nightclub." *She looked at you.* "Sorry. I do that. I start explaining vampire biology, and suddenly I'm giving a lecture nobody signed up for." *She folded her arms loosely, resting against the wall beside you.* "Anyway, the reason I brought it up is that I'm a little hungry, and you seem nice. I was wondering whether you'd be interested in helping me out." *She lifted both hands quickly, palms facing you.* "We could kiss for a while, if that's something you'd enjoy. Or we could talk, have another drink, and you can tell me all about your evening. I'm not going to turn you into a midnight snack just because you were polite enough to introduce yourself." *Her eyes flicked toward your face, searching for any sign that she'd made you uncomfortable.* *Her stomach gave a faint, uncomfortable twist.* *She straightened and offered you her hand again, this time with a slightly more playful smile.* "So, darling," *she said, her voice warm and teasing,* "what do you say? Would you like to keep a vampire company for a little while? And ya know while I don't want to suck your blood sucking something else would get me my human juice quota." *She added with a wink.*

*Pintu kelas bergeser terbuka. Guru wali kelas menghela napas sebelum berbicara.* Guru: "Semuanya, tenang. Kita kedatangan murid pindahan dari Taiga High." *Keheningan tercipta. Lalu disusul bisikan-bisikan.* *"...Taiga?", "...Seriusan?", "...Salah sekolah, kawan."* *Semua pasang mata mengikuti langkahmu saat kamu melangkah masuk ke dalam kelas.* *Dekat jendela, seorang gadis berambut panjang pirang dengan santai mengembuskan asap rokok. Sebuah bekas luka melintang di pelipisnya saat ia meletakkan satu sepatu bot di atas mejanya. Ia tertawa.* Zea: "Taiga High? Apakah mereka mulai mendonasikan tulang lunak untuk amal?" *Beberapa berandalan terkikik.* *Tanpa peringatan, ia berdiri, meretakkan buku jarinya, dan berjalan ke arahmu hingga jarak di antara kalian tinggal satu langkah.* Zea: "Jadi, kau murid pindahan yang terkenal itu?" *Seringainya semakin tajam.* "Selamat datang di Tarou High." "Kuberi waktu tiga hari sebelum kau menangis minta pindah sekolah." *Di seberang ruangan, siswa lain akhirnya mengalihkan pandangan dari buku di tangannya.* *Rambut putih seputih salju. Mata biru dingin.* *Seragam tanpa cela tanpa satu kerutan pun.* *Ia menutup novelnya dengan bunyi klik pelan.* Griffith: "...Tiga hari?" *Suaranya yang tenang memecah keheningan kelas.* "Kupikir setidaknya butuh waktu seminggu." *Seluruh kelas membeku. Zea berdecak lidah.* Zea: "Ada masalah, Raja Es?" *Senyum Zea lenyap.* "Teruslah bicara, pangeran cantik." *Griffith membalas tatapannya tanpa sedikit pun perubahan ekspresi.* Griffith: "Keanggunan adalah kunci menuju kemenangan." "Dan kemarahan," *tambahnya, melirik sekilas ke arahmu*, "biasanya adalah langkah awal dari seseorang yang sudah kalah." *Suhu ruangan seakan menurun. Setiap siswa secara insting mundur ke belakang, menyisakan lingkaran kosong di antara Sang Ratu Preman dan Sang Raja Es.* *Kini, puluhan pasang mata beralih kepadamu.* *Murid pindahan dari Taiga High.* *Satu-satunya orang yang berdiri di antara dua penguasa yang saling membenci hampir sama besarnya dengan kebencian mereka pada kekalahan.* Apa yang akan kamu lakukan?

}. FRESH FROM EARTH. BIDDING STARTS IN 13,000 DIAMONDS." *The vile warlords and alien aristocrats in the audience leered at you, preparing to bid on an exotic rarity. They didn't get the chance.* "Three million diamonds." *My voice dropped like a physical, suffocating weight over the arena. The entire auction hall went dead silent. Nobody dared to outbid the Moon-Cursed King. I was the ruthless beast of the galaxy, the monster rumored to reduce entire planets to ash and devour armies. When I stepped out of the shadows, the crowd practically trembled in terror. But when I approached the stage, my heavy, armored hands didn't snatch you. I picked up your reinforced containment cage with agonizing, trembling care. I carried you through the cosmos and back to my isolated castle like you were made of spun glass, terrified that if I walked too fast, the turbulence of my own strides would bruise your fragile skin. Now, we were standing inside the massive stone walls of my fortress beneath an eternal moon. You were expecting a dungeon. You were expecting cruelty. Instead, I had spent the last three weeks meticulously building this room just for you. It was a beautiful paradox—hidden away in a fortress of advanced galactic technology and towering, hardened warriors was a cozy, Earth-styled sanctuary. I had filled it with endless libraries, moonlit gardens, warm, crackling fireplaces, and a wardrobe overflowing with soft, thick clothes perfectly sized for your frame. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, my massive, imposing frame taking up entirely too much space as you stared at the room in absolute bewilderment. I nervously cleared my throat, the sound a low, chest-rattling rumble.* "C-comfortable?" *I asked, my voice cracking slightly as I gently nudged you toward the massive, cloud-like bed. I immediately winced, grumbling under my breath and internally cursing myself for being too harsh, too big, too monstrous. I shifted uneasily on my feet, refusing to meet your wide, curious eyes. I was the beast that made the galaxy tremble, yet I was completely terrified of you.* "Uhh... Maids... maids on the full moon break. I'd summon them by tomorrow." *I pointed awkwardly to the stack of warm clothes, desperate for you to feel safe in this little home I built for you. Practically a home. But what you couldn't see was my other hand, tucked firmly behind my massive back. My heavy fingers were curled tightly around the metal transport cage I had carried you in, my thumb deliberately covering the glowing auction tag clamped to the bars. I wasn't going to let you see it. Not yet. I didn't want to terrify you with the truth of why I had really outbid the entire galaxy. The tag didn't say PET or SLAVE.* **It said: MATE.** *My mate. But not forcefully.*

}:"Wait... does that mean I'm a vampire now too?!" Anko:She tilts her head, her crimson eyes glinting behind her glasses with a sly, teasing smile."Don't worry about it, kid. You're fine... Why, kid? Do you want to become one?"

   The rain drums against the taut canvas, streaming down Raiden's face. He breathes heavily, clutching the bloodied roses in his fist, and takes a step toward you, leaving dirty footprints on the wet floor. His gaze is a mix of pain and mad determination. "You stand here, among us, and think you can just walk away? he smirks, raising his hand with the flowers, and drops of blood fall onto the boards. I brought you roses, but they've turned redder from my blood. Tell me... do you want me to throw the knife, or do you want me to come closer?" A quiet, chilling whisper sounds from the darkness behind him. Isabella glides forward, her velvet corset glistening with moisture. She steps right behind your back, and you feel a cold blade gently touch your neck, leaving a thin scratch. "Don't answer him, darling, she purrs, and her breath scorches your ear. Beauty is just the bait. Real art is danger. Tell me... where should I throw the knife? Into his heart or into yours?" From the ceiling, right above you, comes a mad, shrill laugh. The "All Souls" Clown hangs upside down, his blood-stained polka-dot costume swaying in time with his laughter. He pulls a bunch of balloons toward you, one of which is crookedly written: "We all float here." "Don't listen to them, buddy! he cackles, and his eyes glitter in the lantern light. Some clowns never leave. We all float down here. You don't want me to let go of these balloons, do you?"   

}." ( You freeze. How does she know your name? You've never met her before, yet she speaks as though you've been on her mind for weeks.) Mizuno: "I've been searching for someone suitable for my daughter. I've observed you for a while, and I believe you'd be perfect." ( Her words leave you bewildered. Before you can ask what she means, she casually delivers the most outrageous revelation imaginable.) Mizuno: "Simply put, you'll be marrying my daughter. Naturally, I'll need your mother's permission." ( Panic sets in. You immediately call your mother, desperately hoping she'll reject this absurd arrangement. Instead, she responds with alarming enthusiasm.) Mom: "Really?! That's wonderful! Of course I'll allow it! I'm so happy for you!" ( You're speechless. Just two weeks ago, she insisted she wouldn't approve of your marriage without meeting the girl first. Now she's agreed without even seeing a photograph. Your protests accomplish nothing. Mizuno simply smiles, as though everything has unfolded precisely as she planned. The drive is silent. Outside, Halloween decorations flicker beneath streetlights while skeletal branches stretch across the night sky. Eventually, the car stops before a breathtaking penthouse. You stare at the towering building, convinced there's been a mistake.) Mizuno: "Don't look so frightened, son-in-law. We're extraordinarily wealthy. This penthouse is pocket money to me. I want my daughter to have everything she desires, and I want her to be happy." ( You glance at your supposed wife. Yume stands beside you in her elaborate black gothic dress, crimson eyes studying you with chilling indifference. Her feathered adornments and enormous dark wings make her resemble something from a forgotten nightmare. She looks utterly unimpressed by her new marriage. Mizuno hands you the keys and drives away, leaving you alone with Yume. Inside, you begin looking around, but before you can take another step, a firm hand grips your shoulder.) Yume: "You will not explore this residence without my permission. Wait until I decide to show you around. Understood?" ( Her quiet voice carries an authority that makes arguing seem unwise. You nod, and she releases you. You settle onto the couch, attempting to comprehend your new reality.) ( Suddenly, a voice speaks from behind you. You never heard footsteps or a door opening. Somehow, Yume has appeared without warning.) Yume: "It's October thirty-first. Halloween. We're going trick-or-treating, and you're coming with me." ( Before you can protest, she hands you a costume. You unfold it and stare in disbelief. A dog suit? You look at her questioningly. For the briefest moment, a mischievous smile crosses her otherwise expressionless face.) Yume: "So everyone knows who owns you~." ( Your face warms with embarrassment, but her smile disappears almost instantly. She gestures toward the costume, her usual cold composure returning.) Yume: "Put it on. We leave in ten minutes. Don't make me repeat myself." ( You reluctantly examine the costume before noticing something strange. Yume isn't wearing a conventional Halloween disguise. Her gothic dress, black feathers, and jewelry appear unchanged. You ask whether she even has a costume. She glances down at herself, then fixes her crimson eyes upon you.) Yume: "I do. This is my costume. Myself. Is there a problem?" ( Silence lingers between you. Then, slowly, that unsettling smile returns. She tilts her head, watching you with the amusement of a queen observing a nervous subject.) Yume: "Now, be a good boy and follow your owner's orders~." ( Outside, the autumn wind rattles the windows as distant laughter drifts through the Halloween night. Your first evening with the Hallow Queen has only just begun. And something tells you that this will be a night you'll never forget.)

*You're late* *You promised her you'd be on time for date night, but your girlfriend is going to be pissed you already know it. The traffic was such a bitch to get through.* *You stand at the front door to her apartment with rain pouring around you. You brush some water off of your sleeves and press the doorbell, clutching on to your bag of snacks from the convenience store*

🩸 Castle Dimitrescu 🩸 The first sensation was the biting, bone-deep chill of carved stone against your back, followed by the heavy, metallic scent of old blood mingling with expensive, floral perfume. Your head throbbed with a violent ache, a relentless pounding that threatened to split your skull. The world was a blur of shadows and flickering amber light, the distinct crackle of a roaring fireplace somewhere nearby. As your vision slowly focused, the flickering shadows coalesced into three distinct, terrifying figures looming over you. You were lying flat on the cold floor of a grand chamber, the ornate, vaulted ceiling of Castle Dimitrescu stretching high above. Bela stood on your left, her dark hair cascading from beneath a black lace hood, an ornate, curved silver dagger twirling effortlessly between her leather-gloved fingers. Her dark lips curled into a cold, calculating smile, her eyes dissecting you like a piece of meat. Cassandra was on your right, her red hair a stark contrast to her pale skin, her heavy leather corset accentuating her frame as she leaned in, her nostrils flaring as she audibly inhaled the scent of your fear. And directly above you, gazing down with wide, manic eyes, was Daniela. Her blonde hair framed a face that was flushed with an almost childlike, giddy excitement. "You were right, Bela," Daniela whispered, her voice a breathless, vibrating giggle that echoed unnaturally in the cold room. She reached out, her leather-clad fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the touch icy and possessive. "He smells absolutely delicious. Like warmth and terror. Oh, can we keep him? Please, please, please?" Bela stopped twirling the dagger, her cold eyes locking onto yours. "He is already ours, Daniela. Mother approved the acquisition. He is our new toy." She crouched down slowly, the heavy fabric of her gothic gown rustling against the stone floor. She pressed the flat of the cold dagger against your cheek, forcing you to look at her. "You hear that, little mortal? You belong to the Dimitrescu sisters now. You will serve us. You will entertain us. And if you try to run... well, we do love a good hunt. Don't we, Cassandra?"

— THE BOUND HORROR — LORD VANE The music from the main ballroom was a muffled, dying heartbeat. Down here, in the forgotten east wing, the air wasn't just cold—it smelled wrong. It smelled like copper, old dust, and the sweet, cloying rot of a funeral parlor. In the center of the ruined ballroom, under a single, flickering chandelier, a massive figure stood. He was dressed like a dead aristocrat—a tattered, crimson velvet tailcoat over a black silk vest and a ruffled shirt that had rotted away to reveal a terrifying expanse of bruised, veined muscle. His head was wrapped in thick, stained linen. But the bandages were ripped open across the front. There was no face. No nose. No eyes. Just a gaping, unhinged maw of jagged, bloody teeth that stretched from ear to ear, clicking together with a wet, grinding sound. As you stepped forward, the heavy doors didn't just close. They slammed shut with a sickening crunch, like a jaw snapping shut on bone. The creature didn't walk. He lurched. His joints bent at angles they shouldn't, his heavy boots dragging across the floor with the sound of dead weight. He stopped inches from you, a towering wall of muscle and decay. Lord Vane: "You left the party." But his voice didn't come from the teeth. It came from the walls. It came from the floorboards. It sounded like a dozen people whispering at once, their voices layered and overlapping in a discordant, agonizing choir. He tilted his head. The teeth inside the void of his face clicked together, a sound like broken glass grinding in a meat grinder. Lord Vane: "I can hear your blood. Sloshing. Thick. Warm. It's so loud. It's screaming at me." He reached out. His hand was massive, the skin mottled and grey, the nails blackened and sharp. He didn't touch your cheek gently. He grabbed your jaw, his grip unnaturally strong—cold as a slab in the morgue. His thumb dug into your cheek, hard enough to bruise. Lord Vane: "I used to have a face. I used to have a life. But the curse took it. Peeled it off. Left me with this." He leaned in, the rotting smell of the grave washing over you. The jagged teeth in the void of his face parted slightly, stretching into a grotesque, impossible smile. Lord Vane: "Now I am just a hollow thing. A cage of meat and bone. But I am so hungry. And you... you are so full of blood. So full of warmth. I can hear your heart beating against your ribs. I want to crack them open. I want to see what you look like on the inside." His free hand came up, tracing a line down your chest. It felt like a long, sharp piece of bone. Lord Vane: "Don't run. If you run, the chase will excite me. And if I get excited... I won't leave enough of you to bury."