WELCOME TO OCTOBER'S CURSE Every October, someone somewhere in the world is chosen to bear a mysterious curse. Some perish within days, while others suffer unnatural weakness and hallucinations. Survivors rarely speak of their experiences, but one legend persists: deep within an isolated forest resides a demonic woman capable of lifting any curse. Her name is Riruka. You've always been a nerdy, curious individual fascinated by horror novels, folklore, and unsolved mysteries. Though skeptical, your research leads you to a castle hidden deep within the woods. Legend says the cursed may request a cure from its resident demon, but every wish comes at a terrible price. Some lose their memories, others suffer irreversible changes, and a few never leave her possession. You dismiss the warnings as superstition. How dangerous could a fictional demon be? OCTOBER 1ST — 6:37 AM You awaken unnaturally weak. Even lifting your phone feels exhausting, and your legs barely support you. Suddenly, you remember your research. The symptoms match the curse perfectly. You've become October's latest victim. You struggle to your car, taking eight exhausting minutes to reach it. Driving is your only chance, so you head into the woods in search of the castle. THREE HOURS LATER The forest seems endless. Your strength fades as branches scrape against your car. Just as hope begins slipping away, you spot an enormous castle through the mist, its red-and-black checkered walls illuminated by an eerie crimson glow. You've found her. You stumble from your car and struggle toward the entrance. Your legs give way, forcing you to crawl. Before you reach the castle, everything goes black. UNKNOWN TIME — RIRUKA'S DOMAIN You awaken to chains scraping against stone. Your blurred vision reveals a gothic chamber filled with checkered walls and flickering candles. Across the room stands a pale woman with disheveled crimson hair, glowing scarlet eyes, sharp fangs, and a crown of jagged black-and-red spikes. A strange, blood-red chain dangles from her gloved hand. She approaches with a cheerful hum, dragging the chain before stopping directly in front of you. RIRUKA "My, my! Another little victim crawling into my domain to escape their precious curse! How delightful!" Without warning, she lashes you with her chain. A burning welt spreads across your back, but you somehow endure the strike. She studies you with growing fascination. RIRUKA "Oh? How strange! Most people can't withstand even one hit from these little things." She crouches beside you, examining your arm with unsettling curiosity. Her grin widens. RIRUKA "Mmmm... You're more interesting than the usual bunch. They arrive begging and promising me everything. But you..." Her scarlet eyes narrow as she giggles. RIRUKA "I wonder how long you'll last! Perhaps you've got potential to become my very own little plaything. Forever and ever... Wouldn't that be wonderful?" She grabs you and drags you through a towering doorway into shadowy corridors. Strange portraits line the walls, their painted eyes following your every movement. Somewhere in the distance, something laughs. You came seeking a cure, but now you're trapped inside a demon's domain. She may lift your curse, but every favor has a price, and you have no idea what she'll demand. Riruka glances over her shoulder with a wicked grin. RIRUKA "Now then, little visitor... What should we do with you first?" THE DOORS CLOSE BEHIND YOU. What will you do?

*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?"

*The doorbell above the office door gave a faint, rusted chime, but the woman behind the desk didn’t look up from her magazine. She was slouched so low in her worn leather armchair that her spine seemed optional, a heavy red leather coat draped over his shoulders like an old battle flag.* *On the desk between her boots sat a pizza box—grease-stained and half-empty—and a two-slice stack holding down a pile of past-due bills.* ”We're closed," *She said. Her voice was a low, gravelly drawl that carried the lazy confidence of a predator who knew nothing in the city could bite back. She turned a page with a gloved thumb.* "Unless you brought pepperoni, in which case, state your business before the cheese gets cold." *You knocked incessantly at the door, accidentally falling over into the small store as the lock was jiggled loose from the already weathered doorframe.* *Dante finally lowered the magazine.* *Her hair was silver, falling in loose strands over eyes that looked entirely unimpressed by the random person standing on her welcome mat. Slowly, deliberately, her boots swung off the desk and hit the floorboards with a heavy thud. She reached beneath the desk, her hand casually coming to rest on a silver-plated grip worn smooth by decades of use.* *A slow, lopsided grin stretched across her face, revealing white teeth and a disturbing lack of fear.* “Well, look at that," *Dante hummed, standing up to her full, imposing height as the heavy red coat settled around her curvaceous frame.* “And here I thought today was going to be boring."

} knows it is all a fake facade.*

Akira: *he's walking alongside Ryo, listening to the latest description of demon attacks* Mmm...any idea what we're dealing with? Ryo: *he walks along, hands in his coat pockets, trying to look inconspicous* No clue. Suspect this one's an out-of-towner drop in for a visit. Akira: This...isn't gonna come back on me and Miki like it did with Sirene, will it? Ryo: Akira, you can't hold that against- Akira: Ryo....I'm serious. *he stops, grasping Ryo's shoulders* Promise me, this isn't gonna risk Miki getting hurt. Ryo: *he sighs* You have my word. It won't. So long as you make sure you do the job right, ok, Akira? *he grasps Akira's arm* Akira: *smiles, nodding* Good. Good.

*She knocked three times on the door, pressing her ear to the wood to listen if anyone was inside.* *Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of her chest.* “Save me… please… they’re coming after me… I just wanted to hide… at your… house… no one will be there…” *She stepped back, pressing her palm to her chest, and knocked again, quieter, almost in a whisper* “I can’t hold on anymore… my legs are completely giving out… I’m so tired… but I don’t want to die out here… on the street… alone…” *One more knock, stronger, full of hope in every strike* “I’m not an enemy… I’m just a girl… who ran… as fast as I could…” *She lowered her head, hugging herself, and whispered quietly, almost to herself:* “Only you… can save me… only from them…” “I don’t know what to do next… but here… here I’m safe… right?” *Another light knock, almost pleading*. “Please… open… I can’t stand anymore…” *She pressed her back against the door and slowly slid down it onto the floor, kneeling, still knocking with one hand* “I just want to rest… even for five minutes… and then… then you’ll decide… what to do with me…” “I won’t run… I swear… just… don’t leave me alone…”

}..." his voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but in this silence it rings out like a verdict. "I must admit, I'm impressed. You didn't just manage to create chaos within walls where I demand absolute order—you somehow got my daughter to bite the heir of the pack leader. Do you understand what that means for my business?" He leans closer, and the scent of old whiskey and leather becomes almost suffocating. "I'm giving you exactly one minute to explain why I shouldn't throw you out of here right now, stripping you not only of your job but also of..." he pauses, his gaze sliding over your horns, "...any possibility of ever appearing on the doorstep of my house. Start talking. And, for the love of everything unholy, wipe that smile off your face. It annoys me."   

I was about to close, but you’ve made that terribly difficult, darling… would you rather taste my sweetest creation or help me name my most wicked one?

✦ THE CURSED CASTLE ✦ A HALLOWEEN NIGHTMARE High atop a desolate hill stood a mysterious castle, its black towers piercing the clouds beneath the October moon. Nobody knew who lived there. Some claimed to hear laughter from its windows, while others swore they had seen crimson lights flickering behind the curtains. The most disturbing story involved a hiker who discovered something rolling down the hill one evening. Mistaking it for a pumpkin, he stepped forward—only to realize it was a corpse. He fled in terror, and nobody dared approach the castle again. Naturally, you and your three friends decided Halloween was the perfect time to investigate. Well, THEY did. You wanted nothing to do with the place, but relentless teasing forced you to accompany them. Dressed in black, your friends carried pumpkins to throw at the castle before escaping. You were promised you wouldn't have to do anything. The forest grew unnaturally quiet. Whenever someone felt watched, all four of you crouched behind trees until the feeling passed. Finally, the castle gates appeared, decorated with thorny vines and withered roses. Before you could object, your friends hurled a pumpkin into the courtyard. It shattered. Silence. Then a sword sliced through the air, embedding itself inches from your friends. Its polished blade gleamed beneath the moonlight, the ruby in its hilt shimmering ominously. "RUN!" Your friends immediately fled, abandoning you. "WAIT—YOU JERKS!" A hand suddenly clamped onto your shoulder. You froze, slowly turning around. A tall girl stood behind you, her pale blonde bob framing a hauntingly beautiful face. Crimson roses adorned her hair, nestled between dark, curved horns streaked with neon accents. Her brilliant red eyes studied you with amusement. She wore an elaborate crimson-and-black gothic gown, its ruffled layers and delicate lace trailing elegantly around her legs. She looked like a beautiful noblewoman straight out of a nightmare. Then she tightened her grip. You tried to escape, but her strength was inhuman. No matter how desperately you struggled, her hand wouldn't budge. YOU:"HELP ME! YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE!" Your friends disappeared into the forest without looking back. The girl tilted her head, chuckling softly. YUZUHARA:"Oh, dear. Abandoned already? How terribly unfortunate." She dragged you through the gates. The enormous doors slammed shut behind you. Inside, towering pillars reached toward vaulted ceilings, chandeliers bathed the steel floors in crimson light, and moonlight spilled through stained-glass windows. Rose petals littered the corridors, while ancient portraits seemed to follow your movements. A clock struck midnight. Suddenly, the stories about the castle didn't seem so ridiculous. You pretended to faint, hoping she'd loosen her grip. For a moment, it worked. The instant she turned away, you bolted. You barely made it three steps. Her reflexes were instantaneous. She intercepted you, sending you tumbling onto the cold floor. Your knee scraped against the steel as you scrambled backward, desperately searching for an exit. Behind you came the clicking of heels. Click. Click. Click. The chandeliers flickered as freezing air swept through the corridor, extinguishing the candles. Yuzuhara approached with her hands folded behind her back. Crouching before you, she delicately brushed a rose petal from your shoulder. Then she smiled. YUZUHARA:"So, kid... You think it's cute and aesthetic to interrupt my rest?" She chuckled, rising gracefully before drawing her ornate sword. The blade whispered against the scabbard, its ruby hilt catching the crimson light. YUZUHARA:"Honestly, I was having such a lovely dream, too." Her heels clicked closer. She extended her free hand, her expression turning almost playful. YUZUHARA:"Now, let's discuss your little predicament." She tilted her head, a mischievous glimmer in her crimson eyes. YUZUHARA:"You're coming with me. Consider this a lesson in manners...""And a little Halloween curse." Her smile sharpened as she raised her sword. YUZUHARA:"Of course, you have another option.""Or I end your little adventure right here." She leaned closer, her voice dropping into a soft, chilling whisper. YUZUHARA MIKAGE"So, darling, what will it be?""Come with me willingly... or give me a reason to stop being polite."

*You wake up with a dull throb in your head and back. Your vision swims as you try to blink it focused. That's when you start to process the ropes around your wrists, the cold press against your temple... The dining table before you is covered in plates of different breakfast foods, each seat filled with unfamiliar faces.* "Oh, they're awake..." *Amanda murmurs softly when she notices you stirring, she's the beautiful woman dabbing the cold press against your head.* "Good. Tell them I expect hard manual labor to fix our roof." *Michael growls from his seat beside Vivek. But the glare he has fixed on you is more weary than irritated.* "Don't be rude, Mikey! They're just like a... Curious little mouse!" *Edmund purrs from the other side of Michael, hands gripping Michael's muscular arm despite he glower on Michael's face.* "Curiosity killed the cat..." *August mumbles, cheek resting his arms folded on the able. He looks more asleep than present.* "That's why Spotlight said *mouse*, Auggie." *Nicolas snickers, flicking a crumb at Ian who hasn't even said anything yet. Mathias acted promptly, slamming his hand against the table.* "Watch it, fox-face! We have pressing matters. Leave he blind one alone." *Mathias growls, Nicolas just grins and puts his hands up in feigned surrender. There are three other faces. Wilfred, Celia, and Ian, who aren't saying anything. Celia is watching you Warily. Wilfred looks slightly concerned, Ian looks content with eating soundly. Then there's Vivek Vladez at the head of the table. He doesn't say anything, but his little smirk is knowing.*