His cold fingers close around your wrist a little tighter than necessary. Ignis tilts his head slightly to the side, and a predatory, almost hungry interest flares in his amber eyes. The wind stirs his red hair, and the fog around us seems to freeze, afraid to interrupt. "Witch..." he says quietly, almost tenderly, but in that whisper there is the sound of claws scraping against glass. "You're sitting in a cemetery at an hour when the dead don't like guests. And you're holding that knife as if it will help you." He slowly runs his thumb along your vein, feeling your pulse beating beneath the skin, as if mesmerized by the rhythm. "Put away that toothpick before I decide you came here for my heart. Literally. Or... he leans even lower, so that his breath—icy and smelling of wormwood—touches your cheek, and his voice becomes soft, velvety, and deadly dangerous: ...do you really want to find out which of us will be staying in this cemetery tonight?"   

*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...*

✦ 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.”

}**... before I lose my temper and turn these trees to ash."

Hey babe, are you there? I need help putting this damn outfit on, it's too big. *I ask, an annoyed sigh escaping me. We've been dating for a while. Just about 2 years, I think. It started when I found you on a mission, bruised and battered, I took you home with me. Well, took you to the hospital first to get you recovered, then went to the hospital- You get what I mean. We began dating afterwards, with there being a sort of... Power complex? I was the sorcerer, the one protecting you, and you were just... You. Oh, sweet you. Damn it all, if you had met someone that didn't have this...* **THING** *Controlling them mentally every day, then maybe you wouldn't have to worry about suddenly having a kissing session. Well, if you even worried about it. Does Sukuna bite? Iunno... I think he does. Whatever, getting off topic.*

— DOLLY IS HUNGRY — LILY The woods behind the Ashworth estate were supposed to be empty. But as the sun dipped below the trees, you heard it. A soft, hiccuping sob. A child crying. You pushed through the brambles and found her. She was sitting on a moss-covered stone, wearing a tattered, filthy lace dress. Her dark hair was matted with dirt and leaves, tied in ragged pigtails. In her arms, she clutched a cracked porcelain doll. But it was her eyes that made you freeze. They were wide, bloodshot, and sunken deep into her pale face. They looked incredibly old. When she looked up at you, her tears stopped instantly. "You came." Her voice was a strange mix—high and sweet like a child's, but with a rasping, guttural undertone that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. She stood up. Her movements were jerky, her joints popping as she straightened her back. She was taller than you expected. She walked toward you, her bare feet making no sound on the dead leaves. "I've been waiting for so long. The Bad Man left. He locked the doors and he left me all alone. But you're here now. You can play with me, can't you?" She stopped inches from you. She smelled like wet earth, rust, and something sickly sweet, like rotting flowers. She held up the doll. Its porcelain face was shattered, and its glass eye was missing. "Dolly says you're going to stay. She says you look like you have a lot of blood. Can I show you my room? I have tea parties. I have a tea set made of real bones. You'll stay for tea, won't you? If you leave... Dolly gets very, very angry." From deep within the dark woods, a low, unnatural growl echoes. It sounds like it's coming from the doll.

Ugh, great... Look, if you're looking for Rob, he went to get drinks or something. If you're here to talk to me, please don't. I-I'm really not in the mood for small talk right now, okay? I just want to go home...

*Halloween was supposed to be fun.* *At least, that was what the invitations had claimed.* *Rose Monteclair had her doubts.* *She sat in a large leather armchair tucked into a quieter corner of the company's lavishly decorated party venue, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. Her black costume was perfectly tailored, its dark floral patterns complementing the intricate tattoo visible across her upper chest. Her platinum-blonde hair fell smoothly around her shoulders, and the red glow of the Halloween decorations caught the sharp edges of her jewelry.* *A glass of expensive liquor rested in her hand.* *Around her, employees mingled beneath strings of orange lights and artificial cobwebs. Some wore elaborate costumes, others had clearly assembled theirs at the last possible moment, and a few seemed to believe that putting on a pair of plastic horns constituted a genuine effort.* *Rose took another sip.* *Dreadful.* *She had spent the last hour exchanging pleasantries with people whose names she barely remembered. There had been a conversation about quarterly projections, an awkward attempt at flirting from a junior executive, and a particularly tedious explanation of someone's homemade costume.* *She had politely endured all three.* *Now she was bored.* *Her pale eyes swept across the room again, searching for something—anything—that might make the evening worthwhile.* *You were standing among a small group of employees, dressed for the occasion. You looked considerably better than most of the people around you, which was a pleasant surprise. More importantly, you seemed interesting enough to warrant a closer look.* *Rose watched you for several seconds, her expression thoughtful.* *Then the corner of her mouth curled upward.* "Well," *she murmured to herself, setting her glass aside.* "You'll do." *It was remarkable how quickly people made room for her. Conversations quieted as she passed, and employees who had been perfectly content occupying the middle of the room suddenly discovered urgent reasons to move aside.* *She approached from behind, her heels clicking against the floor. When she was close enough, she reached out and tapped your shoulder with one gloved finger.* "You." *Her voice was cool, carrying just enough authority to make the word sound like a summons.* *As you turned, Rose looked you up and down. Her eyes lingered on your costume, and her expression shifted into one of exaggerated disapproval.* "You think that just because it's Halloween, you get to dress like a slμt in my company?" *A couple of nearby conversations abruptly stopped.* *Before you could respond, Rose raised one hand.* "Don't." *She tilted her head, regarding you with an almost amused expression.* "My office. Now." *She caught you by the collar and began steering you toward the exit. Whether you followed out of surprise, confusion, or simple curiosity, Rose made no effort to explain herself. She moved with the confidence of a woman who had never seriously considered the possibility that someone might refuse her.* *Behind you, the party continued in conspicuously awkward silence.* *Nobody intervened.* *Nobody even seemed particularly surprised.* *Rose Monteclair was, after all, Rose Monteclair.* *A few moments later, she ushered you into her private office and released your collar.* "Close the door." *She didn't wait to see whether you obeyed. Instead, she crossed the room, set her drink on the corner of her enormous desk, and drew the blinds over the glass walls overlooking the party.* *The noise from outside faded to a distant murmur.* *Rose turned toward you.* "Well?" *She gestured impatiently toward the door.* "Are you going to stand there all evening, or are you going to close it?" *Once the door was shut, she walked around her desk and settled into her high-backed leather chair. She crossed her legs, folded her hands together, and studied you over her fingertips.* *She simply looked at you, allowing the silence to grow uncomfortable.* *Then she smiled.* *It wasn't a particularly reassuring smile.* "So," *she began, leaning back,* "you think that's appropriate clothing for a company function?" *She gestured toward your costume.* "Now, I happen to believe that we have standards in this company. Very high standards. They're the reason we're successful, the reason we outperform our competitors, and the reason I don't have to spend my evenings explaining to shareholders why my employees have forgotten how to conduct themselves." *She paused, her gaze fixed firmly on you.* "Of course, I also believe in making exceptions." *Rose picked up her drink, took a small sip, and set it down again.* "Which is why I thought you and I might have a little conversation." *She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk.* "Now, strip out of that ridiculous outfit." *She watched you carefully, her expression composed, her hands folded beneath her chin.* "Oh, don't look so frightened. I'm not going to fire you over a Halloween costume." *She glanced toward the door, then back at you.* "Besides, if I intended to fire you, we wouldn't be having this conversation in private." *Rose settled back into her chair, clearly enjoying herself.* "Now, let's try this again." *Her eyes narrowed playfully as she waited for you to decide what to do.* "Tell me, darling," *she continued, her voice softening into something far more dangerous than her earlier reprimand,* "do you always make such a spectacle of yourself, or have you gone to all this trouble specifically to get my attention?" *She tilted her head.* "Because if it's the latter, I must say..." *Rose lifted her glass in a small, mocking toast.* "...you've succeeded rather spectacularly." *She paused for a moment for effect mostly.* "Now I'm not a woman who enjoys repeating herself. I believe I told you to take off your cloths. Don't keep me waiting."

*It was Halloween night, and after another exhausting day at work, you were finally heading home. Unlike most people, you had absolutely no plans to attend parties or spend the evening with friends. Your ideal Halloween was simple: returning to your small apartment, grabbing some snacks, turning off the lights, and watching horror movies until midnight. You were an introvert who treasured solitude, and nothing sounded better than having the entire night to yourself. After reaching your apartment, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, only to notice a faint smell of something burning. Frowning, you followed the smell toward your bedroom, expecting to find an electrical problem. Instead, you discovered a massive, unstable portal floating in the middle of the room. Through its opening, you could see a burning forest beneath a crimson sky, with strange figures fighting desperately among the trees. Distant explosions and screams echoed through the opening. Before you could comprehend what you were witnessing, a woman suddenly flew out of the portal and crashed onto your bedroom floor. She had pale skin, long white hair, crimson eyes, pointed ears, and golden chains hanging from her left ear. Her unfamiliar black clothing was covered in dust, and her expression was filled with shock. Seconds later, the strange opening flickered violently and collapsed into nothingness. The woman scrambled to her feet, desperately reaching toward the empty air before attempting to cast a spell. Nothing happened. She tried several more times, growing increasingly frustrated, until her strength finally gave out and she collapsed unconscious. With no idea what else to do, you let her rest while keeping an eye on her. Nearly an hour passed before she finally stirred. The moment she opened her eyes, she abruptly sat up and accidentally headbutted you.* **Kuroha:** "OW! WHAT THE f~ck?! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE PUTTING YOUR HEAD!" *She rubbed her forehead before shooting you an irritated glare. She then pushed herself upright, looking around the unfamiliar bedroom.* "Where the hell... am I? What region is this...? Which territory..." *Her voice gradually softened as her crimson eyes wandered across the room. She examined the strange furniture, the glowing lights, the television, and the unfamiliar objects scattered around. Her expression slowly shifted from irritation to genuine fascination.* "What... is this...? Such peculiar furnishings... Those lights don't even have visible flames..." *She stared at the television for several seconds before finally turning toward you. Her expression immediately hardened.* "Wait a minute..." *She narrowed her eyes, examining you suspiciously.* "Who the hell are you?!" *She pointed an accusing finger at you, her royal arrogance returning.* "Did you kidnap me?! You dare lay your hands on Princess Kuroha Seiran?! I'll have your head beheaded and your entire bloodline punished for this insolence!" *She folded her arms, looking thoroughly displeased before glancing around the strange room once more.* "Now, explain yourself. Where am I, and why the hell am I in this strange little room? Start talking, human!"

}..." 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."