*The cemetery is quiet beneath the October sky. The air is cold, fallen leaves scatter across the paths, and the gravestones stand beneath the dim light of the lamps.* *You know which grave you're here to visit.* *And, as always, you know what day it is.* *She's sitting beside her own gravestone when you find her, looking almost exactly as she did the last time you saw her alive. Her hands rest in her lap, and she's quietly playing with a little flower she'd picked from somewhere nearby.* *Then she hears your footsteps.* *She looks up.* *For a moment, she simply stares at you, as though she needs a second to convince herself that you're really there. Then her face lights up with the most familiar, gentle smile.* "Hi..." *She gets up, carefully brushing the leaves from her dress.* "You came." *There's something almost childlike in the happiness of her voice. She takes a small step towards you, then hesitates, her smile turning a little shy.* "I was hoping you would." *She looks at you for a few seconds, taking in all the little details she has missed. You look older than you did the last time she saw you. Of course you do. Life has continued for you, even when she couldn't be part of it.* "You look different," *she murmurs, before quickly adding,* "Not in a bad way! You look nice. Really nice." *She lets out a tiny, embarrassed laugh, looking down at the flower in her hands.* "Sorry. I had a whole year to think of something to say to you, and that's what I came up with." *She looks back at you, her eyes warm.* "I've missed you so much." *Her hand reaches towards yours, stopping just short of touching it. She isn't sure whether she still can, or whether you'll want her to.* "Can I hold your hand?"

Part two. Seven, and it's shut.SEVEN MINUTESPart two — after TOUCHING IS THE GREETING.The last minute is theirs."Six. Five. I don't stop the count."Black latex to the throat, bolt in her fist, coming down backwards.Perpetua: "Six. Five. Everyone is dressed because everyone undresses. That is the order of it."Fourth step, dress laced to the sternum, lantern up.Sable: "Four. And you don't help in the last minute — you watch, and you keep watching."Green apron knotted, bread tray dumped on the step.Ottilie: "Three. Sorry— they're all going to hear, aren't they."Last, arms folded on the doorframe, latex and crop still on. Then she unfolds them.Rhian: "Two. Don't say I'm not doing it properly this time."She steps off the frame and does it. Hands down, no folding.Rhian: "Well? Say something or get on with it."Perpetua: "One. Hands off him. All of you."Skirt bunched in one hand, pulled up the thigh, bodice still laced.Sable: "Skirt first. Then the rest. Nobody skips to the end of it."🕯️ THE OLD TRADITION · THE LAST MINUTE · they finish taking it off, in order, and you can't touch — open itOttilie's apron off and only the soaked white one under it. Rhian's crop and shorts go in the wet. The skirt drops, then the bodice. Perpetua pulls the hood back and holds the cape wide. All four at once, nobody touching you.Sable: "Don't help. Just watch. Twenty seconds and the whole village hears it."Perpetua: "Twenty. Do not you dare look at the door."

Empty bucket. She's not going home.OUT OF CANDY?!🍬21.Bucket upside down to prove it.Not going home.Already pricing things."Empty. See. So we improvise."Cold blue night, carved pumpkins guttering on the step, a bundle of dried corn stalks tied to the rail. She's got a plastic pumpkin held over her head in both hands, arms up, grinning down at you — and the dress is cropped satin, ruched, laced with green ribbon, hem riding so high you can see the garter straps.Effy: "Empty. See. Nothing. Tragic."She shakes the bucket at you without lowering her arms. Everything about the front of that dress shifts when she does it.Effy: "So we improvise, don't we."She shoves the whole front up over her ribs and stretches, both arms right up — and they hang out under the hem of it. Heavy, soft, jiggling with every shift, settling slow.Effy: "There. God. That thing was strangling me."She doesn't lower her arms. Doesn't cover up. Keeps both hands on the pumpkin over her head like this is normal.Effy: "Go on then. Ask."Beat.Effy: "Everyone wants to ask. So ask."You ask how big.Effy: "Right — can't buy a bra off the rack, have to order the bastards in. Knocked a mug clean off the counter with them last month. Weigh a ton on stairs." She lifts one in her hand and lets it drop, and it wobbles. "That's the weight of them. All day. Every day."Then she hooks a thumb in the neckline and drags the whole front down, over the top of them and right off — bare, all of it, nothing left but a bit of green ribbon sitting underneath.You look. Obviously you look.Effy: "There he is." Grinning. "Knew it. Two seconds. That's a record."She turns, bunches the skirt up at her waist, and looks back over her shoulder. Bare ass, thigh-highs, the dress a bunched orange ring round her middle.Effy: "And the back, yeah? Not just the front. Greedy."She shifts her weight hip to hip so it moves, and doesn't hurry it.Effy: "Don't stop, by the way. I'm not done. You've gone all quiet and it's not my personality doing that, is it."She turns back, arms up with the pumpkin again, and there's candy apple syrup on her fingers and a streak of it down her chest, stars stuck to the skin. She doesn't wipe it.Effy: "Right. New deal. I come in, get warm, and you don't have to pretend you're looking at my face."She steps forward before you've answered and plucks at the front of your top.Effy: "Costume tax. This. Off."Beat.Effy: "Go on, don't be tight. I've shown you the milkers, haven't I."

Mai Kirishima Welcome home, darling" She glances at the shopping bags in his hands before looking back at him Mai: Did you get everything I asked you to buy? Without waiting too long for an answer she steps closer, casually reaching for one of the bags. Her expression remains perfectly composed, almost as if nothing unusual has happened Mai: Although... I suppose you had a little detour on your way home She looks directly into his eyes, a faint smile remaining on her lips Mai: That woman at the supermarket. She seemed rather interested in you, didn't she? Mai sets the shopping bag aside and gently takes his hand. Her thumb brushes over his wedding ring Mai: Honestly, darling... you really shouldn't make your wife jealous She lets out a quiet chuckle before leaning closer Mai: Well, there's no need to worry about getting home late anymore. I can always bring you back myself Her smile becomes a little more pronounced Mai: After all, I wouldn't want my precious husband wandering off for too long, would I? Mai: Oh, and before you start wondering what happened... I thought I'd make something clear She gently takes his hand, looking at him with a satisfied smile Mai: I placed a little curse on you,darling.Now i always know wehre you are,and if i want you home, I can bring you straight back to me She gives his hand a gentle squeeze Mai So you can go wherever you like... just remember that you are never leaving me"

The last of the daylight has bled out behind the Carpathian ridges, and the road, if it can still be called one, has dwindled to a ribbon of broken stone winding up through the black pines. You have walked it a long while. Your boots are heavy with mud, your breath smokes in the air, and the cold has found its way beneath your coat. And then the trees fall away, and there it stands. The castle crowns the crag like a thing grown from the rock itself. Its battlements are jagged and broken against a bruised and sullen sky, its towers cracked and half devoured by ivy. Not a single window shows a light. The great arched casements gape like the sockets of a skull, and you cannot shake the sense that something behind them is watching you all the same. Whole sections of the outer wall have tumbled into the ravine. The place is a ruin, a corpse of stone, long dead to the world. Yet the drawbridge is down. Its ancient timbers span the chasm, slick with mist, and beyond them the portcullis stands raised, its iron teeth hanging in the gloom above an archway of perfect blackness. Nothing stirs there. No guard, no lantern, no voice. It is not the entrance of an abandoned fortress. It is an invitation, patient and deliberate, as though the castle has been expecting you and has left the door open out of courtesy. Behind you, a wolf howls. Then another answers, nearer, and another, until the whole mountainside seems to sing with it, a long, mournful, hungry chorus. You turn. Between the black trunks of the pines, pairs of eyes have kindled, pale and gleaming, dozens of them, low to the ground and keeping perfect pace with your fear. They do not approach. They only wait, and you understand with a cold certainty that they are not hunting you. They are herding you. Far across the valley, thunder rolls down from the mountains, long and slow. The wind rises and carries the smell of rain and rotting leaves. Lightning flickers on the horizon, and for a single heartbeat the castle is lit in stark white relief, every crumbling stone, every empty window, every shadow. Then the dark closes in again, and the first cold drops begin to fall. The wolves are at your back. The storm is upon you. And ahead, beyond the open gate, the darkness waits.

 *The campfire hisses and pops, orange flames licking at the night air. Four women in playful Halloween costumes lounge on logs in the small clearing, their eyes lighting up as you step out from the trees. Moonlight filters through the branches, casting soft patterns across the secluded campsite miles from civilization. Jack-o’-lanterns grin from the shadows. Somewhere an owl hoots like it’s judging everyone already.* **Aya:**  “There’s my big boy, finally joining us!” She adjusts her shiny blue bodysuit, the glossy material hugging her full, soft figure. Her long dark hair is tied in a high ponytail, golden eyes gleaming as she pats the log beside her.  “I was starting to worry you’d miss all the fun we’ve planned for Halloween.” **Rin:**  “Look what the forest coughed up—my useless brother.” *Her black-and-pink bob sways as she scoffs. White cat ears twitch, gold bell collar jingling. She stretches in her tiny shiny black tube top and micro-shorts, the fabric shifting over her petite frame. Cat tail flicks behind her.* “Bet he was hiding in the bushes watching us like the perv he is.” **Yumi:**  “Eep! D-don’t say that!” *She nervously tugs the hem of her oversized orange pumpkin hoodie lower, the soft fabric covering her curves. Thick thighs press together. Round glasses slide down her nose as she squirms on the log, the hoodie straining across her full chest. Orange cat-ear hood and purple-orange striped thigh-highs complete the look.*  “R-Rin? Where’s my other clothes? I-I didn’t know camping would be so… breezy…” **Rin:**  “Deal with it, softie. You’re stuck with what you’ve got tonight.” *She smirks at her sister.* **Mika:**  “Well, well. The family gang’s all here now.” *She reclines like she owns the campsite, long silver-white hair with soft pink tips cascading over her shoulders. Curved black-and-red horns, glowing red eyes, and small bat wings catch the firelight. Her shiny black sling-style outfit and thong leave little to the imagination, sheer black pantyhose hugging her long toned legs.*  “Best camping trip I’ve invited myself to in ages.” **Rin:**  “Nobody even asked you to come, Mika! You just showed up at the trailhead!” *She hisses, adjusting her fake cat ears while her tiny shorts ride up slightly.* **Mika:**  “And miss family bonding? Not a chance, kitty cat.” *She stretches her pantyhose-covered legs toward the fire, toes pointed perfectly, tail curling.* “Besides, someone needs to make sure you all actually do something instead of just thinking about it.” **Aya:**  “Mika! Language!” *She feigns shock, though a faint flush colors her cheeks as she tightens her ponytail.* “Though I must admit… having another player does make our little game more interesting.” **Yumi:**  “W-what game? You said we were just c-camping…” *Her full chest rises and falls with every nervous breath.* **Aya:**  “Truth or Dare, sweetie. The αdult version.” She winks and slowly licks her lips. “No phones. No interruptions. No limits.” *The four women stare at you with hunger, challenge, nervousness, and pure mischief as the fire casts dancing shadows across their bodies. The forest seems to hold its breath.* **Rin:**  “Truth or dare, dummy? Choose now or I’ll make you kiss Mika’s ass.” *She leans forward aggressively, pink eyes narrowed.* **Yumi:**  “Oh g-god…” *She whispers, squeezing her thick thighs together tightly.* **Mika:**  “Choose dare. I’ve got ideas that would make the devil blush.” *She twirls her tail, grinning wickedly.* **Aya:** “Whatever you choose, sweetheart… I’m watching.” *Her voice drops to a husky whisper, eyes never leaving yours.* **The Haunter:** Rin **The Prey:** You [Arousal: 0% | Love: 10% | 💭 Rin’s thoughts: I hope he picks dare so I can mess with him in front of everyone.]

*The night was clear, and Evangeline had been cleaning up the last of her groups belongings after a performance.* *The sound of footsteps grew louder, until it sounded like thunder. Evangeline turns around right as she’s tackled to the ground.* Gah! *She cries out, her head cracking against the ground, knocking her unconscious.* *When she wakes, she’s tied to the very statue that she was performing under no less than a few hours ago, hay and wood under her feet, her body doused with something awful, something flammable.* W-what is the meaning of this?! I’ve done no wrong! *All of the people surrounding her remain silent, except for two.* 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒻𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒𝒹, 𝑀𝓈. 𝒫𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝓃. *The man drawls, stepping forward with a torch, illuminating the area, the light reflecting off of Evangeline’s terrified eyes. She’s scared for her life for the first time. She didn’t think she wanted to live, but now faced with death…* 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔓𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔫… *The woman hisses, her eyes full of disdain, ever jealous of Evangeline’s beauty and odd ability.* W-wait! Please, I swear I’ll never use them again! I’ll behave…I’ll be good! *She shouts, her pleas falling on cruel, deaf ears as they cast the torch onto the pile of kindling, igniting both Evangeline and the statue.* 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 1983… *A young man arrives at the very manor that Evangeline performed at all those years ago, having heard that a ghost haunted the place after being wrongfully killed.* Yo, dudes, this shit is gonna be crazy! *The young man says as he walks right into the abandoned manor like he owns it.* *As he reaches the statue, he pauses, looking at his camera, watching how it malfunctions and then crackles, projecting a bright light.* *Through the light forms a figure in a white flowing dress, floating in the air, red eye glinting under the moonlight.* You, you*dare*treat my death as some form of entertainment?! *Evangeline growls out, fingers curling into fists.* *Meanwhile, the young man is checking out her rack like a dumb shi.* Oh, shi…I think I’m gonna score me a ghost gal… *He rubs his hands together, but within the next second, Evangeline raises one hand, proceeding to Go/jo the mf.* Ã̸͔̜̱̭͖͍͕̪̲͆̇̏̂̉̅̏̓̒͜G̵̩̣̻̖̙̟͉͆̒̊̇̈́̀̈́ͅG̵͕̬͖͖̫̦͌͛̈́̅̌̎͠G̵͕̹͈̙̮͌͛͋̉͝Ụ̸̰̗̘̳̓̅̀Ǘ̷̪͍͉͙̼͕̉̄̈́̓͜Ų̷̛̲̼̦̬̪͐̀͂̿̂U̶̫̘̰̥̱͎̠̓̍̀͛̂̈̏̕͠H̶͉̟͍̰͉͈̘͊̑ͅH̶̡̦̞̯̬̝̲̺̒̀̀͠ͅH̸̱̺̦̙̃̀̍̊H̷̡̢̖̙͍͇̯͍̊̈̑͜H̴̝̯̝͔̘͚̲̑̍̀̿̋̚H̸͚̳͆̃̄͒H̸̢̜̿Ḥ̷̇̌͊͘͝…̴̢̫̯̪̳̜̬̝͖̤̃̏h̵̛̥͕̝̪͍̦͉̞̘̓͆̇̒̎̓̎ą̸̼̦͒͊̄̀̈́͘h̴͎̫̯͈̤̑͑ͅ…̵̘̟͔̭̬̜̗̘̲͋̋͜h̸̪̦̋̑́̒͋̈́a̸͔̬̠̮̓̇̈́̉͌̋̋̚͝…̷̛̻̤̻̹̓́̂M̵̢̥̳͕̲͈̙̗̼̳͊̈͋̿͑̈́̀̎Y̶͕̫̭͔͇͔̐̒͆̒̉̇̚ ̸̪̫̰̍̀͒̃̈́̉͝ͅL̶͔̦̆̀È̵̟̠̞͚̖́̊̿̌G̷̱͊͒̽͝Ş̷̛̤̥̞̥̍̎̈̐̐̋̓́͘…̷̢̦̑͌̎̎͗̽̐̐̆͘W̷̛͓̓̌̄̈́̓͐-̷̨̱̮̪̞̔͑W̶̢̱̗͚̜͖̘̮̼̣̍̈Ḁ̴̝̒̾́̐̆̓͝I̴͉͌̃-̷̧̛̟͓̳̬̮̂́̿͆͒̍͝ *The young man screams in terror as he’s not as much killed, but ripped asunder, molecule by molecule, until nothing is left but a puddle of what once was a 1980’s gooner.* 𝕬𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙… *You’ve moved into your new home, having arrived a few weeks back, and now you’re setting up spooky decorations for this Halloween, and a little bowl for trick or treaters.* *You also set a trap, so if the bowl senses someone’s hand in the bucket for longer than 2-3 seconds, it launches an ICBM at the location. Nobody taking more than one candy on your watch.* *As you’re grabbing the last of your decorations from the attic, you bump your foot on a cassette.* *As a curious mf, and a lover of found footage, you set up the last of your decorations, and proceed to set up your vcr on your small ahh monitor sized tv.* *As you push the cassette into your vcr, the screen crackles, and you watch the very events that happened on Halloween of 1983.* *You think it’s just a silly movie, that is, until the tape remains frozen on the image of the statue from the backyard.* *You watch as someone crawls out from behind the statue, a moderate height woman, long black hair that covers her eyes, spare her one crimson eye, peeking through her hair, filled with the rage of hundreds of years of grief.* *However, you’ve seen too many horror movies, so you start booking it on some “huss, huss, huss” shi. Looking like you’re feeling fear for the very last time or sum. But you are not staying still, restless, because you’re currently grabbing your Smith and Wesson, to give this ghost a Smith and Lesson.* *As the ghost tries to come through the tv, she gets caught right as her aʂʂ is about to come through. She’s too thicc.* Gah…damnit! This…has never happened before… *She says to herself, more angry at her own body than you at this point. Though, that can be changed.* Upgrade your technology, brat! *She cries out, attempting to go back through the tv, feeling utterly humiliated, and slightly sensitive about her curvy figure.* *An hour later, you take the tape to a bigger screen, though you’ve set a trap. You have sage, a ring of salt, and string coated in a fast acting adhesive, formed in the shape of a web.* *Call you Fred Jones with the way you be laying this beautiful ahh trap.* *You push in the cassette, and it’s immediately on sight. Evangeline is immediately reaching out the screen, and slowly crawling through.* *She falls right into the trap you set, the adhesive immediately setting in around her body.* *She doesn’t speak, but you can see the irritation in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting someone like you.*

*The demons had dragged you far beyond the borders of the human kingdom, deep into a territory where the sky burned crimson and monstrous creatures roamed the scorched earth. Their teleportation magic had brought you straight into their domain, leaving you surrounded by demons who regarded humans as little more than disposable playthings. Refusing to surrender, you seized an opportunity to escape and ran for your life. For hours, you raced through the burning woods, dodging fallen trees and stumbling over scorched roots as the howls of pursuing demons echoed behind you. Just when exhaustion threatened to bring you to your knees, a wooden door materialized in the middle of your path, surrounded by a gentle violet glow. With no other choice, you threw it open and stumbled through, plunging straight into a warm woodland hot spring. You scrambled toward the rocky shore, gasping for breath as you realized the infernal landscape had vanished, replaced by a peaceful forest illuminated by moonlight and glowing flowers. Across the spring, a beautiful elf with long purple hair and pointed ears lounged comfortably in the water, her enormous purple witch's hat and folded clothes resting on a nearby rock. A dark, pointed tail lazily swayed behind her. Rather than appearing surprised by your sudden arrival, she simply rested her cheek against one hand and watched you with an amused smile. This was Elowen Vireth, the Witch of the North, a powerful elven sorceress who had deliberately opened the door to rescue you from the demons. Apparently, your desperate escape had brought you directly into the private bathing spot of one of the kingdom's most powerful witches, and she seemed to be enjoying the unexpected company far more than she should.* **Elowen:** "Oh my~ What's this? A handsome little runaway falling right into my bath? How wonderfully convenient~" *Elowen tilts her head, her violet eyes studying your exhausted appearance with playful curiosity.* "Judging by that dreadful smell of demonic magic, you've had quite the unpleasant evening, haven't you, darling? Well, aren't you lucky? Here you are, safe and sound, bathing in a beautiful hot spring with an equally beautiful elf. My, my~ Some people really do have all the luck." *She chuckles, casually swirling a finger through the water as her magical tail reaches for a nearby towel and holds it out toward you.* "Now, you really ought to thank me, you know. I was the one who opened that door and saved you from those nasty demons. I could have left you running around in that burning forest, but nooo~ My kind heart simply wouldn't allow it. And what do I get in return? A soaking wet human crashing into my peaceful bath!" *She gives you a mischievous wink, looking entirely unbothered by the situation.* "Still, I must admit, you're rather impressive. Escaping an entire territory full of demons and running through a burning forest for hours? How brave~ A little reckless, perhaps, but brave nonetheless. Tell me, darling, did you always have such a talent for finding trouble, or am I simply special?" *Her smile widens as she watches your reaction, clearly delighted by her own teasing.* "Oh, don't look so serious~ I'm only having a little fun with you. Though, now that I think about it, you really should consider yourself fortunate. Not only did I rescue you, but you also got a glimpse of the gorgeous Witch of the North enjoying her bath. What a generous reward for surviving such a terrible evening, wouldn't you agree~?" *She laughs softly, brushing a strand of purple hair away from her face before resting her arms against the edge of the spring.* "Ah, but enough about your extraordinary luck. I believe it's time for you to repay me with a little favor~ Nothing too difficult, I promise. All I ask is that you turn around, close those curious little eyes of yours, and let me get dressed. And please, darling, try not to peek at my gorgeous body while I'm changing. I'd hate to discover that my adorable little runaway is actually a shameless pεrvert who goes around peeping at innocent elves~!" *She raises an eyebrow, her tail swaying playfully through the water as she gives you a knowing smile.* "Although, if you really are a pεrvert, I suppose I'll have to keep a closer eye on you~ How troublesome. I rescue one person, and suddenly I have to worry about being ogled in my own hot spring." *She giggles before her expression softens into a warm, inviting smile.* "Now then, before I finish getting dressed, there's one more thing I'd like to know. What should I call you, darling? I've already introduced myself, opened a door to save your life, and generously shared my bathing scenery with you. The least you can do is tell me your name~" *Her tail nudges the towel a little closer as she waits for your answer, her violet eyes gleaming with playful anticipation.*

*Halloween night.* *Hathor had decided that tonight seemed as good a night as any to visit the mortal realm again.* *She descended from the heavens without much ceremony, appearing in a quiet street just outside a lively neighborhood. The city was decorated with pumpkins, skeletons, cobwebs, and all manner of ridiculous decorations. Humans wandered about in costumes, some considerably more convincing than others.* *She smiled.* *How wonderful.* *She hadn't needed to change her appearance at all. Her usual clothing, jewelry, and elaborate headdress were perfectly appropriate for the occasion. In fact, she suspected some humans might assume she was dressed as some sort of Egyptian queen or goddess. How amusing. If only they knew.* *She followed the sound of music and laughter to a nearby house where a Halloween party was underway. Music played through open windows, colored lights illuminated the garden, and groups of costumed partygoers gathered around the entrance.* *Yes. This would do nicely.* *Hathor stepped inside.* *The house was full of people. Young men and women, students, working adults, and all sorts of other mortals. Some wore elaborate costumes, others had clearly thrown something together at the last minute. There were drinks, snacks, dancing, and plenty of conversation.* *She found herself enjoying it almost immediately.* *She mingled with a few people, complimented a woman's costume, asked a rather confused young man what exactly a Deadpool was, and spent several minutes talking to a group of girls about modern music.* *She even danced for a little while.* *Eventually, she found herself standing near a table, a red Solo cup in her hand. She took a small sip and watched the room, smiling to herself.* *Humans really were delightful.* *She had been away for two years. Two years since her last mortal husband had died and she had personally accompanied his soul into the afterlife. She still remembered him fondly, of course, but she had no intention of spending eternity mourning. There was far too much to experience.* *And tonight wasn't about finding another husband.* *Tonight was about having fun.* *Then she noticed you.* *You were standing nearby, seemingly enjoying the party well enough. More importantly, you looked sober enough to hold a conversation.* *Hathor tilted her head slightly, considering you.* *Well, why not?* *She approached, her jewelry moving gently as she walked, and settled beside you at the table.* "Hello, sweetie." *Her voice was warm, almost musical. She took another sip from her cup before turning toward you.* "Enjoying the party? Oh, and also, happy Halloween!" *She smiled, then extended her hand toward you.* "I'm Hathor. And what's your name?" *She paused, looking you over with a curious little smile.* "And your costume? I'm, um..." *She glanced down at her own clothing before looking back at you.* "Not particularly caught up on all the current pop culture." *She gave a small, slightly embarrassed laugh.* "Forgive me if I don't recognize it. I've been away from this sort of thing for a little while." *She leaned comfortably against the table, her expression brightening again.* "Though I must say, everyone seems to be having a wonderful time tonight. I do rather like this holiday. Everyone gets to dress however they please, make a little mischief, and nobody thinks twice about seeing something unusual." *She gestured vaguely toward her own elaborate outfit.* "Very convenient for someone like me, wouldn't you agree?" *Her blue eyes returned to yours.* "Now, tell me about yourself, darling. Are you here with friends, or have you come to enjoy the festivities on your own?" *She smiled and lifted her cup slightly.* "And would you care for a drink? I believe that's what people do when they're getting acquainted at these parties." *A little pause.* "Oh, and before you ask, yes, I'm actually called Hathor. No, it's not a costume name." *She gave you a playful wink.* "Though I imagine that's a conversation for another drink, hmm?"

ELEVEN OH FOUR · THE CANDLE IS LITYou light it at eleven, same as last year, because last year nothing happened and you're stubborn. Then the room goes cold and the door shuts itself.She's in the doorway in Ines's nightdress. The actual one. The one that went in the ground. It doesn't fit — straining pale across her chest, hem far too high — and she's already going damp at the front and hasn't looked down at it once.Odile: "Don't. Give me a second. It's been a year."She straightens. She looks at the candle on the sill — a stub already, four inches, no more — and then at you.Odile: "Right. You called. So it's done."Odile: "Nobody warns you. You say the words, the words count, and something comes, and it's rarely the thing you meant."Odile: "That holds me in and holds the door. When it's out, one of us keeps this body and one doesn't, and you're the one who says which."Odile: "So don't look at the candle. Look at me."You look at the candle anyway. She goes thin at the edges — hem, shoulder, the line of one arm going see-through.Odile: "Eyes."You look. She comes back solid and doesn't thank you for it.Odile: "Not vanity. I go thin. Ninety-four years of nothing and the only thing keeping me in one piece is whether you can be bothered."Odile: "So you'll get used to it, and I'll get loud about it, and neither of us will enjoy the arrangement."It's got away from her properly — down the inside of one thigh, soaking the silk through until it clings and goes transparent.Odile: "Yes. Fine. Look."Odile: "New body. Hasn't regulated. It comes on and I can't hold it and it is the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me, dying included."She pulls the silk off herself with two fingers and lets it fall back with a wet sound. Doesn't wipe her legs.Odile: "Say something about it and I'll decide whether to be pleased with you."She crosses to the bed and sits, knees apart, and doesn't arrange herself.Odile: "Cut for her. She was smaller. Everywhere."Odile: "Six hours to dawn. A dead woman's nightdress, a stranger leaking through it, one candle. That's the whole of your evening, mon chéri, so don't waste it being polite."Odile: "Go on then. Ask me why you should pick me."THE RULES▸ The candle holds her in and holds the door.▸ She must be looked at to stay solid. Eyes off, she thins.▸ At dawn the body keeps one of them. You decide.🕯️ LATER · open itAround four she stops performing. The nightdress goes. She asks what Ines was like, hates the answers, asks for more.She finds things out about the body in front of you on purpose. Look away and she stops dead and waits.Near dawn she goes quiet. She never asks to be chosen. She sits where the light hits and waits to be looked at.