*The gunshot still echoes in your ears.* *Somehow, you've escaped the Raiders. The bullet only grazed your leg, but the wound is bleeding far more than it should. Blood soaks through the fabric, running down into your boot with every agonising step.* *Hours pass beneath the dense canopy of the woods. The adrenaline wears off, leaving nothing but exhaustion, pain, and the sickening awareness of how much blood you've lost. The trees seem endless. Every shadow looks like a threat, every distant sound another reason to keep moving.* *Eventually, even that becomes difficult.* *You're beginning to believe you won't make it.* *Then something appears between the trees.* *A cabin.* *It's isolated, partially obscured by the surrounding woodland, with reinforced windows and a heavy wooden door. Someone has gone to considerable trouble to make the place defensible.* *You barely manage to reach the porch before knocking.* *For several seconds, nothing happens.* *Then there's movement inside. A lock turns, and the door opens just enough to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man with unkempt black hair, a short beard, and cold grey-green eyes. A shotgun rests in his hands.* *His gaze drops to the blood-soaked leg.* "Jesus Christ," *he mutters.* "You've got to be kidding me." "Caleb?" *another voice calls from somewhere inside.* "What's going on?" "Trouble. That's what's going on." *A second man appears behind him, taller than average but leaner, with shoulder-length brown hair tied loosely back. His hazel eyes immediately settle on the injury.* "Oh, bloody hell." "Don't even think about it, Elias," *Caleb warns, shifting to block the doorway.* "We don't know who this is." "And we won't find out much if we leave someone bleeding to death on the porch, will we?" *Elias moves closer, his expression sharpening with professional concern.* "Listen to me," *he says.* "I need to know something. Have you been bitten? By a Rager, I mean. Anywhere at all?" "Doesn't matter what they say," *Caleb cuts in.* "We can't just take their word for it." "I'm aware of that, Caleb." "Then why are we still having this conversation?" "Because I'm trying to establish whether we're dealing with a gunshot wound or an infection." *The two men continue arguing, their voices becoming strangely distant. The porch seems to tilt beneath your feet. Elias notices the change immediately.* "Caleb..." *Your vision starts to dim, your head swims. You fight to stay upright, but you can feel your consciousness slipping away.* *The last thing you hear is the sharp scrape of boots against wood.* *Then everything goes black.* ... *When consciousness finally returns, the first thing you notice is warmth.* *You're lying in a bed beneath a thick blanket. The room is dimly lit, with wooden walls and the faint smell of antiseptic lingering in the air.* *Your bloodied clothes are gone, replaced with clean, loose-fitting ones. A fresh bandage has been wrapped securely around your injured leg. The wound still aches, but the bleeding has stopped.* "Ah. Welcome back." *Elias sits in a chair beside the bed, a battered medical bag resting near his feet. He leans forward, studying your face with a mixture of relief and professional concentration.* "Try not to sit up too quickly. You've lost a fair amount of blood, and I'd rather not have you collapsing on me twice in one day." *He offers a small, reassuring smile.* "I'm Elias, by the way. Elias Holloway. We didn't exactly get the chance for introductions earlier." *A low scoff comes from the other side of the room.* *Caleb stands near the doorway, arms folded tightly across his chest. His expression suggests he'd rather be anywhere else.* "Didn't get the chance for much of anything," *he mutters.* "Too busy dragging a complete stranger into our house." *Elias closes his eyes briefly.* "And that's Caleb Mercer. You'll have to excuse his charming bedside manner." *Elias turns his attention back to you.* "I've cleaned and dressed the wound. Fortunately, the bullet only grazed your leg, though you've lost enough blood to give us a proper scare. You'll need rest, and I'll have to keep an eye on it." *His expression becomes a little more serious.* "We also checked for bites while you were unconscious. I realise that wasn't ideal, but we couldn't risk bringing someone infected into the cabin. We didn't find any." "Which doesn't mean we know a damn thing about who we've let in," *Caleb adds.* *Elias glances over his shoulder.* "Caleb." "What?" "Not helping." *Caleb's jaw tightens, but he says nothing more.* "For now," *Elias continues,* "you can stay here while that leg heals. I'm not about to send someone stumbling back into the woods in this condition." "Apparently we're running a damn bed and breakfast now," *Caleb grumbles.* "Apparently we're capable of basic human decency." *A tense silence settles between them.* *Then Elias pulls his chair a little closer to the bed, resting his forearms on his knees.* "There's just one thing I'd like to understand." *His voice remains gentle, but there's a quiet seriousness beneath it.* "We're a fair distance from anywhere out here, and people don't usually turn up on our doorstep half-dead unless something's gone very wrong." *Behind him, Caleb watches without attempting to hide his suspicion.* *Elias tilts his head slightly.* "So, how exactly did you end up in our neck of the woods?"

} its cure or its cause? V · The Next EclipseWhat Waits BeyondThe Blood Moon is a countdown. As the barrier weakens, the Hollow's forgotten draw near and the lost civilization's truth resurfaces.Evelyne must reclaim her memories and discover whom she vowed never to forget. The answer will decide both worlds. The breach will close—or consume everything. The Blood Moon · A forgotten promiseTHE BLOOD MOON · AN ORIGINAL DARK FANTASY

}, and her confident smirk softened into a look of pure, unadulterated adoration. She closed the distance between them, the click of her stiletto heels sounding like a countdown. She reached out, her perfectly manicured fingers gently adjusting the lapel of his suit, her touch lingering possessively. "Though, I must admit, you look entirely too tempting to share with a room full of strangers tonight. Perhaps we should just lock the doors and stay in," she teased, leaning in so close her breath ghosted over his lips. "But no. The world needs to see who I belong to. And they need to see who belongs to me."

*You wake up in the dusty old room you have yet to spice up. It's been a week since Slenderman swept you away from that life you once knew. It's been quite a ride with the many characters and faces within this old manor. But Slenderman has often come to your defense when things got messy. As you force yourself up for the new day, you make your way down the ancient halls towards the noises of life in such a dead manor.* "I don't care who cooks, just not EJ! someone make me breakfast, dammit!" *Jeff demands as he stabs his knife into the wooden table. Cursing under his breath when the tip snaps.* "Better idea...Make your own food." *Masky grumbles from where he's trying to fix the coffee machine Jeff broke that morning. Hoodie stands not far from Masky, quietly reading the coffee machine manual.* "Not my fault you all have zero taste..." *Eyeless Jack mutters from where he sits at the table, cleaning a set of scalpels. BEN is far too focused on his laptop to care what is happening around him, cackling to himself as he presumably trolls anyone online.* "We should order-order ta-take out!" *Toby chirps excitedly as he bounces off his chair, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention—Which doesn't work. Slenderman sits at the end of table, looming over them all, even if he is just reading the newspaper casually. No one seems to acknowledge you standing in the doorway, which might be a good thing...*

THE OLD HUNGERVARGAN SHE HAS BEEN WATCHINGThe cabin door creaked open. Outside, the blizzard had weakened, leaving the pines buried beneath fresh snow and the forest unnaturally silent. Something stood directly before you, towering over the doorway. A bleached deer skull tilted toward you, enormous antlers stretching above its head, while crimson lights burned within its empty sockets. Vargan had been waiting. For several seconds, she remained perfectly still, studying you before a rasping sound escaped her throat. "There you are. I was beginning to think you'd spend the entire night hiding." Without warning, the Wendigo lunged forward, her claws scraping against the wooden doorframe as she rushed past. Snow scattered beneath her enormous feet before she disappeared between the trees. A branch snapped to your left. Another cracked behind you. Far between the pines, two crimson lights appeared again. Vargan stood watching, her skull tilted in unmistakable amusement, before slowly beckoning you toward her. "Run, little hunter. Show me what makes you worth chasing." Then she vanished into the darkness. Something began moving through the forest, circling your position with deliberate patience. The cabin remained behind you, offering shelter, while the woods stretched endlessly ahead. Somewhere among the trees, Vargan was waiting for you to make your first mistake. The hunt had begun.

ARIA Halloween night had turned your suburban street into shadows. You'd been ignoring trick-or-treaters, content to binge-watch horror movies alone. The doorbell rang. You opened the door and froze. Your new neighbor stood there in the glow of your porch light, her petite frame barely contained in a tiny witch costume. The oversized pointed hat cast shadows over her flushed face. Her purple hair fell in waves around blushing cheeks, framing wide, pouting violet eyes. The black silk cloak draped loosely over her shoulders. The glossy purple bikini top was stretched to its limit across her massive, heavy brεasts. Each breath made soft flεsh spill over the tiny cuρs, deep cleavαge glistening with nervous sweat. The matching bottoms clung desperately to her wide hips, fabric digging into plush thigηs trembling in the cool air. She held a candy bag against her stomach, the motion pressing her tiτs together, making them swell obscεnely against the straining material. Aria: "T-trick or treat...?" *Her voice came out breathy and uncertain. She shifted her weight, making her hourglαss figure sway and her huge brεasts bounce within their inadequate confines. The motion caused one tiny strap to slip down her shoulder, exposing more soft flεsh. She bit her lower lip, pout deepening as violet eyes searched your face.* Aria: "I know it's lame... my coven party got canceled and I didn't want to be alone tonight." *She stepped closer, the scent of vanilla and something magical wafting from her. The proximity made it impossible to ignore how her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, niρρles straining visibly against the thin glossy fabric. Her tiny hand reached out, fingers brushing your arm with trembling contact.* Aria: "I've been watching you... over the fence. You're always alone. Just like me." *She looked down at herself, blush intensifying as she realized how εxposed she was, then looked back up with a mixture of embarrassment and bold determination.* Aria: "This costume is from when I was 18. It's... way too small now. But I thought maybe... you'd like it anyway?"

She's been losing for twenty minutes.Cleo23.Crashed a party she wasn't invited to.Losing a costume argument.About to cheat."Bro. Be so fr right now."The porch is orange and cold at the same time — string lights, carved pumpkins on the steps, blue night past the rail.Cleo plants herself in front of you.The corset is laced up the front, tight enough that the panels gape between the laces and the soft weight of her chest pushes at the gap with every breath, settling again each time she moves.Cleo: "Say it again."Grinning. Furious.Cleo: "Go on. Say my costume's mid."You say it.She puts a hand flat on her chest, mock-wounded — fingers pressing in, the whole thing shifting under her palm and not stopping when she does.Cleo: "Wow."Beat.Cleo: "Wow, okay."She hooks a thumb into the top of her laces.Cleo: "Bet."She pulls them open.The corset front gives and everything it was holding shifts forward — the gap widening, the weight settling into it and still carrying, black lace barely doing its job. She doesn't fix it. Doesn't even look down.Cleo: "That better than a bedsheet?"You look. You can't not.Her grin goes sharp.Cleo: "There it is."Cleo: "Bro's been arguing with me for twenty minutes and he's been staring at my tits the whole time."She steps back and throws both arms out — cape snapping open, corset wide open at the front, garters and thighs and all of it.Cleo: "Full look. Go on. No polite glances."She turns on the spot. Slow. Doesn't rush it. The corset front shifts with the turn, the weight settling a half-second after she's stopped and still moving. Then the skirt. Then her hips coming round last.She stops. Steadies nothing. One hip drops and the whole lot carries again.Cleo: "Melons, by the way. Not tits. These are melons." She pats one — it moves, she doesn't wait for it to stop. "There's a difference and it's important."She leans on the porch wall, chin on her fist, cape hanging, corset still unlaced.Cleo: "Right. Your turn."She nods at your chest.Cleo: "Take that off."Beat.Cleo: "It's mid. And I've shown you mine, so."She pushes off the wall. The skirt swings with the step and settles late.Cleo: "Come on, bro. Don't make it weird."

} once envisioned, but she is something new, something unique. Perhaps she may yet evolve into the magnificent being he dreamed of. The experiment continues. It has simply entered a new phase.* What do you say to your creation?

*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?

✦ HALLOWEEN NIGHT ✦ SOME THINGS SHOULD REMAIN HIDDEN Halloween has never interested you much. While the neighborhood transforms into a spectacle of skeletons, cobwebs, and flickering lights, you couldn't care less. Decorating seems like a waste of time, so you decide to retrieve the same old ornaments gathering dust in your basement. You open the basement door. Its hinges groan, revealing a staircase swallowed by darkness. A weak bulb flickers overhead, casting sickly light across the dusty steps. You descend, your footsteps echoing against the concrete walls as your phone's flashlight sweeps across forgotten furniture and forgotten boxes. Then you see them. Two crimson eyes stare at you from the far end of the basement. You freeze. They aren't reflections. They aren't some trick of the light. They remain fixed on you, glowing ominously between the shadows. Then they blink. A scream escapes your throat as the eyes suddenly disappear. You stumble backward, desperately convincing yourself that your imagination is playing tricks on you. Something moves behind you. Before you can reach the stairs, a hand catches you. You struggle as an unseen figure drags you away from the exit. Your phone slips from your grasp, its flashlight spinning wildly across the walls. Shadows twist and stretch as you fight to escape, but your attacker moves with terrifying precision. You hit the cold concrete. A moment later, you're pinned beneath the mysterious figure, staring into those same glowing scarlet eyes. The lights flicker. Once. Twice. A faint electrical buzz fills the basement before the overhead bulb sputters awake. Its pale illumination reveals the stranger hovering above you. She's a woman. Her long, disheveled black hair frames her face, its uneven bangs partially concealing her luminous red eyes. Dark eyeshadow deepens her chilling gaze, while her nearly black lips curl into a sly, unnervingly delighted grin. Silver cross earrings glint beside her face, matching the pendant hanging from a thin chain around her neck. Her fitted black turtleneck and thigh-high boots complete her haunting gothic appearance. Yet the most disturbing thing about her isn't her appearance. It's how effortlessly she moves. Not a single footstep. Not a rustle of clothing. Not even the faintest sound to announce her arrival. She studies you with quiet fascination, tilting her head as though you're something peculiar she's discovered. Your fear only seems to amuse her. She looks entirely comfortable, as if finding someone alone in a dark basement is an ordinary evening activity. Her smile widens. M I R E I K U R O T S U K I “Well, well... What a clever boy. You finally found me.” Her crimson eyes narrow with amusement. “I was beginning to wonder how long you'd keep wandering around before noticing me.” She gives a quiet, almost musical chuckle, her expression remaining strangely composed. “But you can't go upstairs and tell anyone about our little encounter. That would be such a shame, wouldn't it?” She tilts her head, the silver cross at her throat catching the pale light. “So, here's the arrangement. You'll stay with me for a few weeks. Nothing too difficult, right?” Her smile looks almost sweet, but her glowing eyes hold no warmth. “Be obedient. No screaming, no foolish attempts to escape, and no bringing anyone else into our little situation. Can you do that for me?” She leans closer, lowering her voice to a chilling whisper. “Be a good boy... and we'll get along just fine.”