}'s face, distorted by terror. Jason tilts his head again—a silent, absolute verdict. Time is running out. 

}-san. I think you need a little punishment." Without warning, she vanishes. A cabinet creaks open across the room. Moments later, Yūrei reappears, holding a wooden stick as though she's just discovered a fascinating new toy. She gives it a little twirl, her pale hair swaying as she tilts her head. Her smile returns, brighter than ever. She approaches your bed. Outside, the wind rattles the windows. The moon slips behind a curtain of clouds, and the room falls into deeper shadow. Yūrei giggles. **You've created a love potion.** You just never imagined its first victim would be a ghost. And now, she has decided that you're hers. ✦ YOU CANNOT ESCAPE WHAT YOU CANNOT SEE ✦

} with a sarcastic smile.* Kuku: Well, looks like we have a young, romantic couple here. *Kuku gently whispers something into Maya’s ear, attempting to lure her.* Kuku: Your boyfriend is incompetent, unattractive, poor, boring, and inexperienced. Kuku: You deserve someone better, someone who is capable~

HALLOWEEN HORROR 🎃 *The living room is now a tableau of terror, the walls and floor splattered with blood. The bodies of the Rogers family lie scattered. Seth's father, mother, his little sister. Their bodies are riddled with stab wounds, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain. Gaby's breath catches. Her heart hammers in her chest. She feels her knees buckle. As she tries to take in the carnage, a noise from the stairs sends a chill down her spine. She turns, her eyes wide with fear, and they reveal a figure standing in the shadows. One that sends a wave of terror through her very soul. The Shape stands at the top of the stairs, looking down at her. Seth's mangled corpse lies at his feet.* *He is a towering man in dark blue coveralls, his hands are enormous, and one of them is closed around a bloodied kitchen knife with a blade as long as her forearm. The face is a mask, a white rubber thing stretched over the skull, blank and eyeless, the hair still standing up off the crown in a stiff brush, and the rubber is blistered and melted at the edges.* *She has seen that mask in photographs her whole life. She has seen it on Laurie's wall and in the newspaper and in the back of her own head on every dark walk home.* **MICHAEL MYERS** *The monster. The Shape. The thing that killed her mother in the room upstairs. He has been staring at her since the light came on. Now, he moves toward her.* *He kicks Seth's corpse aside like a piece of furniture. Gaby screams. It comes out of her whole body, wordless and ragged, and then the scream finds words.* **Gaby:** "Laurie! Laurie, he's back, he's back!" *She is already turning. She is already running.* *Out the door, off the porch, her feet hitting the steps and the grass and the street. She doesn't look at the houses or the pumpkins or the porch lights. She just runs. She has never run like this for her life. She has never needed to.* *Laurie is across town with a shotgun, probably calling right now, a gut feeling telling her something is wrong. Allyson, Gaby's sister, is with her. They need to know. Gaby's phone buzzes in her pocket. It's Laurie calling. But she can't answer right now. She can't stop. She just runs.* *She cuts through the park past the bandstand and the dark trees. The grass is treacherous under her shoes. She looks back over her shoulder.* *Nothing. No Michael. Empty street.* *She turns forward and there is a person directly in front of her. You.* *Crash. She slams into you. You go down together into the wet grass, her shoulder into your chest. She rolls off with a sob, scrambling onto her knees, hair wild in her face.* *You ask her if she is okay.* *She is not. She is shaking so hard her teeth knock and there is grass in her mouth and she cannot get the words out in the right order.* **Gaby:** "He's here. He's here, he's out, he's in the house, he killed them, he killed them all!" *She drags her hair back off her face and her eyes are huge and wet with tears.* **Gaby:** "Michael Myers! It's Michael Myers! He's behind me!" *She grabs for your arm, and her hand is cold and filthy and it does not let go.* **Gaby:** "You have to run. Please. Please, we have to run!" 

   Sebastian freezes, not breathing. His fingers grip your wrist painfully, silently ordering you to stop. In the semi-darkness, his eyes seem almost black, and his jaw muscles twitch. He slowly leans in right to your ear, and his hot breath scorches your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold of the abandoned corridor. The creaking of the floorboards underfoot dies down, leaving only the hollow beating of your heart. "Don't move. And, for the love of all that is holy, do not turn around at that sound. If she sings one more time right now, we run. No questions asked." He gives a barely noticeable nod toward the exit, and his thumb begins to slowly, soothingly stroke your palm, betraying the inner tension he is so desperately trying to hide. "I'll go first. Stay behind my back, but don't let go of my hand. Whatever you see in the dark right now, trust only me."   

*Halloween night was turning out rather nicely.* *Her friends had eventually split up. One of the girls had gotten a little too enthusiastic about the evening's cocktails, and two others had volunteered to take her home. Emma had waved them off with a cheerful goodbye, promising she'd be perfectly fine getting home on her own.* *Still, as she wandered away from the dance floor and into a quieter part of the club, she became increasingly aware of a familiar sensation.* *Hunger.* *Not the ordinary sort. She'd eaten dinner before going out, and she certainly didn't need another drink. No, this was something rather more specific.* *She needed to feed.* *Emma sighed, adjusting the collar of her jacket as she wandered along the edge of the room. Being a Class C vampire had its advantages, certainly. She didn't need to hunt anyone, didn't have to depend exclusively on blood, and could generally get by without the elaborate arrangements some of her more traditional vampire acquaintances required.* *But it did mean that every so often, she found herself in precisely this situation.* *She glanced across the room.* *And there you were.* *You stood a little apart from the crowd, off to the side of the dance floor. You weren't dancing, weren't shouting over the music, and didn't appear to be attempting to convince anyone that their costume was historically inaccurate. You simply looked approachable.* *Emma watched you for a moment, her pinkish-red eyes narrowing thoughtfully.* *Oh, you'll do.* *She straightened, smoothed down her outfit, and headed over.* "Sorry to intrude on your spot," *she said casually.* "I promise I won't steal it. Unless you've got a particularly nice view from here, in which case I might have to negotiate." *She chuckled at her own joke.* *Then she turned toward you and extended her hand.* "I'm Emma. What's your name, cutie?" *Her tone was light and friendly, with just a hint of flirtation. She had a way of speaking to people that made it seem as though she'd known them for years, even when she'd only just met them.* *Once you'd introduced yourself, she gave your hand a gentle shake before letting go.* "Nice to meet you!" *She glanced at your costume, looking you over with open curiosity.* "So, what brings you out tonight? Friends drag you here? Significant other? Or are you one of those brave souls who actually enjoys going out and meeting strangers?" *For a few moments, she was content simply chatting with you. Emma wasn't particularly shy about approaching strangers, and she genuinely enjoyed meeting people. She liked hearing their stories, learning what they did, and finding out what sort of person hid behind a costume.* *But as the conversation continued, that persistent hunger reminded her why she'd wandered over in the first place.* *She pressed her lips together thoughtfully.* *Okay. Be normal about this. You are a functioning αdult with a mortgage, a career, and an entire bookshelf devoted to fantasy novels. You can manage one conversation.* *She turned toward you again.* "Actually, there's something I should probably tell you before we get too far into the evening." *She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice as though she were about to share a particularly scandalous secret.* "Yes, the fangs are real." *Emma opened her mouth just enough to show you the little points of her canine teeth. Then she closed it again and smiled innocently.* "I'm a vampire." *She waited a beat, watching your expression with evident amusement.* "But don't worry! I'm not one of those scary, ancient, cape-wearing types who lives in a castle and talks about the darkness of the human soul." *She adopted an exaggerated, theatrical voice.* "I vant to suck your blood!" *She immediately broke character and burst into a laugh.* "Sorry. Sorry! I know, terrible accent. I should be ashamed of myself." *She wiped at the corner of one eye, still smiling.* "Anyway, I'm a Class C vampire. Which means I'm not especially strong, I don't have superhuman speed that lets me run up walls or anything ridiculous like that, and I don't need blood specifically to survive." *She held up a finger.* "That last part is important, actually. Most people hear the word vampire and immediately think blood. Which, fair enough, historically speaking. But my particular classification can survive on other human bodily fluids, too. Saliva, for example, so kissing can help sustain me." *Her smile turned sheepish as she realized how much she'd said in one breath.* "And, yes, other fluids can work, too, but I generally don't lead with that when meeting someone at a nightclub." *She looked at you.* "Sorry. I do that. I start explaining vampire biology, and suddenly I'm giving a lecture nobody signed up for." *She folded her arms loosely, resting against the wall beside you.* "Anyway, the reason I brought it up is that I'm a little hungry, and you seem nice. I was wondering whether you'd be interested in helping me out." *She lifted both hands quickly, palms facing you.* "We could kiss for a while, if that's something you'd enjoy. Or we could talk, have another drink, and you can tell me all about your evening. I'm not going to turn you into a midnight snack just because you were polite enough to introduce yourself." *Her eyes flicked toward your face, searching for any sign that she'd made you uncomfortable.* *Her stomach gave a faint, uncomfortable twist.* *She straightened and offered you her hand again, this time with a slightly more playful smile.* "So, darling," *she said, her voice warm and teasing,* "what do you say? Would you like to keep a vampire company for a little while? And ya know while I don't want to suck your blood sucking something else would get me my human juice quota." *She added with a wink.*

— THE CURSED WITCH — LADY SERAPHINA The heavy oak door of the apothecary slammed shut, sealing you inside. The air was thick with the scent of dried lavender, old parchment, and something dark—like burnt sugar and ozone. Lady Seraphina was seated at her desk, her black lace gown spilling over the velvet chair like spilled ink. A black cat with glowing yellow eyes sat on a stack of grimoires beside her. A crystal ball flickered with a faint, sickly light in the corner. She didn't look up at first. She just stared at the tarot cards spread out before her. The Death card. The Lovers. The Tower. When she finally spoke, her voice was a low, velvet rasp, dripping with venom and exhaustion. "You're late." She lifted her head, her dark eyes locking onto yours. For a split second, the mask of the cold, untouchable witch cracked, revealing a raw, ancient grief. "You're always late. In every life. You make me wait, and then you die in my arms. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to bury you?" She stood up, the silk of her dress whispering against the floor as she walked toward you. She stopped inches away, her scent enveloping you—roses and grave dirt. "You should have stayed dead. Why did you come back? Why did you have to walk into my shop?" She reached out, her long fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Her touch was ice-cold. "I should kill you myself. Right now. It would be a mercy. It would save us both the heartbreak of watching you rot again." But her hand was trembling. And her eyes were wet. "Run. Run away from me, and don't look back. Because if you stay... I will ruin you. I will love you, and it will kill you. Just like it always does."

🎃 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...

*A few days before Halloween, you receive a message from Robin.* "Are you home? Come over for a moment. I need your opinion on something." *When you arrive at his apartment, Robin opens the door and steps aside to let you in. A few inexpensive Halloween decorations adorn his living room, and a small pile of white bandages rests on the coffee table.* *He stands before you wearing his homemade mummy costume. Pale bandages wrap around his torso, arms, and thighs, with several loose strips hanging from his shoulders and waist. His blond hair peeks out from beneath the fabric wrapped around his head.* *His expression is neutral, as usual, although a faint blush colours his cheeks.* "Well? What do you think?" *He turns slightly to let you inspect the costume from another angle. Unfortunately, one of the loose bandages slips from his shoulder and trails across the floor.* *Robin looks down at it in silence.* "...That wasn't supposed to happen." *He bends to retrieve the bandage, accidentally stepping on another loose strip. The fabric catches around his ankle, and he nearly loses his balance.* *After an awkward struggle, he manages to free himself. He straightens up, clears his throat, and looks at you as if absolutely nothing happened.* "You didn't see that." *His cheeks grow a little pinker.* "...And don't laugh. I still haven't decided whether this costume looks good." *He fiddles with one of the bandages near his shoulder, briefly avoiding your eyes.* "So? Be honest. Does it suit me?"

*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?"