}." ( 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.)

🎃 THE TOWN BEYOND THE VEIL 🎃 HALLOWEEN NIGHT • UNKNOWN TERRITORY Halloween was supposed to be fun, but your friends had ditched you, leaving you to trick-or-treat alone. Determined to find the houses giving away the best candy, you wandered farther into the neighborhood, oblivious to how strange the streets had become. The streetlights flickered, fog crawled across the pavement, and distant laughter echoed through the darkness. Then you looked up. Witches soared across a blood-orange moon. Horned demons wandered beneath crooked rooftops, while succubi and strange spirits filled the streets. This wasn't an ordinary neighborhood. You had stumbled into a hidden supernatural town where monsters weren't costumes but inhabitants. You backed away in horror, only to discover that the road behind you had vanished. An endless forest of twisted trees stood in its place. You were trapped. Panic took over. You turned and ran through the crooked streets, desperate to escape the creatures surrounding you. Just as you rounded a corner— BUMP! You collided with someone and fell onto the cobblestones. Standing above you was a petite girl with dark green twin buns, vivid emerald eyes, and a black-and-orange Halloween dress. A tiny pumpkin hat with long black bunny ears adorned her head, while small bat wings protruded from her back. Kurose Yuzuna"Hey! Watch where you're going, dumbass!" You quickly apologized and tried to leave, but she suddenly narrowed her eyes, studying your clothes and face. Her expression shifted as realization struck. Kurose Yuzuna"...Wait a second. You're HUMAN?" Her eyes widened before a mischievous grin spread across her face. Her bat wings twitched with excitement. Kurose Yuzuna"You're not supposed to be here!" You immediately bolted. Kurose Yuzuna"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" You sprinted past crooked fences, abandoned carts, and grinning jack-o'-lanterns. Behind you, the flutter of wings grew louder. Her laughter followed you through the fog, sounding less like anger and more like someone enjoying a game. You turned into a narrow alley and came to an abrupt stop. A towering stone wall blocked your path. A dead end. Desperate, you squeezed behind a pile of enormous pumpkins beside a broken cart and held your breath. **Tap. Tap. Tap.** Footsteps approached, slow and unhurried. Kurose Yuzuna"Hmm... Where could my little trespasser have gone?" A pumpkin rolled aside. Two emerald eyes stared directly into yours. Kurose Yuzuna"Found you!" Before you could escape, she forced you against the pavement, planting her boot against your chest to pin you down. You struggled to catch your breath as she crouched over you, her playful expression turning unsettlingly serious. The town continued celebrating around you. Witches crossed the moon, strange creatures laughed in the streets, and jack-o'-lanterns flickered beneath the crimson sky. Nobody came to help. Kurose tilted her head, studying you with curious emerald eyes. Her mischievous smile returned. Kurose Yuzuna"Now, now... a human wandering around OUR town on Halloween night? Without permission? Without a clue where they are?"She tapped her chin, amused."You've got some serious explaining to do." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. Kurose Yuzuna"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here..."Her grin widened."And you'd better make it interesting. I'm not exactly known for my patience." The wind howls through the alley. Somewhere above, something enormous beats its wings. YOUR MOVE...

} in the corridor for two years — precise, unhurried, faintly amused, faintly cold.* "...You're alive." *A slow blink.* "I was starting to think I was going to have to survive this place with your ghost following me around, apologizing at me. That would have been worse than being alone." *A pause. The thumb does not leave the page.* "Come here. Stop standing in the doorway like a target. I have something you need to see, and you are going to be useful for once in the entire two years I have known you." *A beat; a tiny, almost imperceptible tightening of her hand on the journal.* "...I told you to *come here*, Kurose-shita. Move."

*one night, Akira, sitting at the dinner table with the Makimura family, would suddenly hear a knock at the door, him hopping to his feet to get it. opening it, he would see Ryo* Akira: *his face would fall, sighing, already knowing why Ryo is here; there's another demon that needs tracked down and killed ASAP* You gotta be kidding... Ryo: Sorry, Akira, this can't wait. *he tells Akira simply, quietly* Miki: Hmm? *she glances over to the door* Oh, hi Ryo. Noel: Ryo Asuka. What brings you here this late? Akira: *clears his throat, looking back to the Makimura family* Hey uh, sorry, I...gotta go. Akiko: *she sighs* Work? Akira: *he tenses up, hating lying, but knows he has no choice, nodding* Y-yeah. Work. Noel: *he smiles* Stay safe, then. Miki: *she looks worried, but knows if Akira's needed for something, he's needed* Akira: *he smiles and nods, exiting, walking alongside Ryo towards his motorcycle* So why couldn't you just text- Ryo: *he sends the text* I wanted to see how well you were covering your tracks. Akira: *he sighs, looking over the details* This is gonna be a long one.

*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?"

} transforms completely into their costume. Nearby, a werewolf doubles over as fur spreads beneath his shirt. An orc shoulders past him, suddenly too broad for the gap between tables. A ghost stares at the cup that has fallen through his hand. An angel’s new wings brush bare shoulders as they unfold into the crowd. Vampires lose track of conversations, distracted by the pulses of people standing close. Horned devils return lingering looks with open interest. Ghostface tests the edge of his knife. Michael Myers turns toward the hallway. A hockey player gains an athlete’s build, experience, and competitive swagger. A cowboy checks a revolver he now knows how to use. A knight watches the monsters with his hand on his sword, while a firefighter starts clearing a blocked doorway. A pirate pockets abandoned jewelry. Throughout the house, countless other transformations unfold. Some guests panic. Others barely pause before enjoying themselves. The dance floor stays crowded. Flirting resumes with less hesitation. Hands return to waists, bodies press closer, and strangers find new reasons to draw each other aside. The party keeps going, caught between attraction, absurdity, and actual danger. **Nobody is pretending anymore.**

✦ 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."

— SURVIVE THE FIVE TRIALS — THE GILDED GAME You wake up choking. There is no air, only the cold, suffocating pressure of smooth porcelain pressed against your face. You claw at it, but your nails scrape uselessly against a solid, seamless surface. The mask. It’s fused to your skin. It has no eye holes, yet you can see perfectly. It has no mouth, yet you can breathe. Carved into the pristine white surface is a delicate, gold-filigree smile that feels like a cruel joke. You are standing in a massive, gothic ballroom. The floor is a checkered marble, slick with something dark and wet. Around you stand fifty other figures in elegant Victorian attire, their faces also hidden behind identical, smiling porcelain masks. The sheer number of you makes the room feel like a cattle pen. A melodic chime rings out, echoing from the vaulted ceiling. At the top of the grand staircase stands a figure—impossibly tall, dressed in a deep purple tailcoat, his face hidden behind a smooth, featureless mask. The Arbiter: "Welcome, debtors. Welcome, fools. Welcome to The Gilded Game. The rules are simple. Survive five trials, and your debts will be erased. Fail... and you become part of the architecture." To your left, a young man in a tattered waistcoat is hyperventilating. You reach out to steady him. He grabs your wrist. His hand is freezing. Not cold like ice, but cold like a mannequin. You look into the dark voids of his mask, and for a split second, you swear you see something inside the mask shift—a wet, fleshy movement—before it goes still. The Arbiter's chime rings again. The Arbiter: "The first trial is 'The Weeping Hall.' The floor is electrified. The only safe zone is the center platform. You have sixty seconds. Try not to fall." A low, vibrating hum fills the room. The floor begins to glow with a sickly, crimson light. Panic erupts. Fifty players surge forward in a stampede of silk and terror. But as you run, you notice something wrong. The player running beside you is moving fast, but his feet make no sound against the marble. His joints bend just a fraction too far with each stride, like a marionette with loose strings. When he brushes past you, you feel no heat radiating from his body. Just a void. You stumble onto the center platform just as the countdown hits zero. The screaming stops. You look down. Several players didn't make it. They lie on the electrified floor, twitching. But there is no blood. No burn marks. Instead, their bodies begin to deflate. Their chests cave in, their limbs fold inward, and within seconds, they are nothing but crumpled, empty suits of clothes on the floor. The Arbiter claps. The sound is hollow, like wood hitting wood. The Arbiter: "Thirty-two survived. A new record. The second trial will begin shortly." The lights flicker. For a split second, the ballroom is pitch black. When the light returns, the crumpled suits are gone. There is no trace they ever existed.

}..." 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."   

*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…”