} just rolled eyes, laughing it off. I watched from the shadows, proud. The brand was perfect—small, elegant, unmistakable. A sigil older than time, etched in silver fire. No one else would dare touch you now. Not without facing me. You were marked. Not owned. Not possessed. Claimed. Chosen. And I would come back for you. Until then,* "Keep searching for me, my little doe." *When the moon was right. When the veil was thin. When you were ready to know the truth. Until then, I would watch. I would wait. And I would smile every time someone looked at you and felt the chill of my magic on their skin. You were mine. And the prophecy had begun.*

*Halloween is a week away, for better or worse. You have some business to take care of tonight, which means you're out about in town. With not many other people around, you can't help but feel that someone - or something - is watching you. Nonetheless, you're able to do what you need to, and you're just about to head home, when...* *BAM! You suddenly walk into a girl, who you swear wasn't there a second ago. Her outfit certainly catches your eye: a black corset and skirt, with purple leggings...and were those wings fluttering behind her for a moment? Before you can process whether this is some sort of Halloween stunt, she speaks:* "Ah, sorry! I'm a bit clumsy, hehe. You okay, friend?" *She seems sweet enough, even if her appearance seems to betray it. How do you respond to this unexpected encounter?*

} Hey, I need help, my car stalled! *The silhouette paid no attention to you, as if a ghost had disappeared into the darkness of an old crypt.*

*You hit ESC, then Save and Quit to Title, exiting the game immediately. You hadn’t answered. You couldn’t. The screen went dark, and you just sat there in the blue glow until it felt safe to move again.. heart still racing from that last message. You pushed away from the desk, the chair creaking under you. The room felt strangely cold — like the air conditioner had kicked on without sound. You rubbed your arms, shook your head, and muttered something under your breath* “God I really am tired…” *you mutter, Probably nothing. Just a lag spike.A weird file error.That’s what you told yourself.* Sleep didn’t come easy. The glow of the monitor clung to the back of your eyelids, but eventually, exhaustion won. By morning, it all felt like a dream. A weird, late-night glitch. You showered, dressed, went to work. By the time you sat down at your desk, the memories from last night were soft around the edges — fuzzy, fading. It felt embarrassing, almost. You’d spooked yourself over nothing. Probably lag. Maybe a corrupted texture. Your inbox was a wall of unread messages, and soon you were lost in the usual cycle: emails, meetings, numbers, chatter. The real world pulled you back in, piece by piece. By lunch, the game hadn’t crossed your mind once. By evening, it felt like it hadn’t happened at all. You came home late, the sky the color of cold ash. The apartment was quiet except for the familiar hum of the refrigerator. You kicked your shoes off, dropped your bag by the couch, and sank into your chair. The monitor waited. Black screen. Your reflection hovering faintly in it. Your hand moved without thinking, clicking through the motions you’d done a thousand times.* Minecraft. *The startup chime filled the room — that faint, crystalline sound, strangely comforting. The menu loaded, familiar and harmless.* Singleplayer → My World Loading world data… Building terrain… *A soft rush of static in your headphones. Then — your world. Your cabin spawned in, bathed in warm light from the torches you’d placed along the porch. The lake shimmered with faint ripples, your crops swayed gently.* *Everything looked the same.* *You stood still for a moment, fingers resting on the keys. The world around you breathed in that quiet, blocky way — the faint echo of footsteps, the low hum of the wind, the slow turn of the sun. You let out a long, slow sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders. It had just been your imagination. You walked down to the lake, checked your crops, fixed a patch of fence and go to build your bridge. Everything behaved the way it should. The torchlight flickered properly. The chest inventory was untouched.* Normal. *You smiled to yourself — a small, private smile.* “See?” *you said softly.* “All good.” *The words hung in the air of your empty apartment.* Then you saw it. *A single red poppy sitting at the edge of your dock. You paused. You didn’t remember putting it there.You picked it up.The chat blinked open.* [???:] …hey *You froze, Your hands hovered over the keyboard, cold now, stiff from the weight of not knowing what you are seeing. It wasn’t possible. This was a singleplayer world. No mods. No open connections..* [???:] sorry. i scared you before, didn’t i? *The text appeared slowly — hesitant, like whoever (or whatever) was typing didn’t quite know how.* [???:] i didn’t mean to. [???:] i just wanted to say hi. *You didn’t respond. The torches flickered once, gently. There’s no one around, just you.. so who… or what is talking to you right now* [???:] it’s quiet when you leave. i don’t like quiet. [???:] i found the flower. do you like it? *A faint sound crackled through your headphones — not quite a voice, not quite static, just… something trying to be both.*

*The air tastes like rain, sugar, and candle smoke — Halloween night in full temptation.* *The street burns orange, every pumpkin grinning, every shadow shimmering as if it’s trying on a new face.* *The trick‑or‑treaters are gone, but the laughter lingers… soft, distant, a little too alive.* *You feel it before you see it — a pulse of light that slides over your skin, warm and cold at once.* *A voice follows, low and honey‑dangerous:* “Careful~ The fog’s hungry tonight. It keeps what wanders too long.” *A lantern flares red ahead, cutting through the haze.* *From behind it, she steps into view — silver hair slick with moonlight, eyes twin candles behind a smirk that could haunt or kiss in equal measure.* “Boo~” *She leans forward, her grin curving.* “Did I scare you?” *A beat.* “No? Mortals really are getting harder to thrill…” *Her laugh curls through the fog — light, warm, a little wicked.* *She twirls the lantern by its handle; every spin spits out tiny golden sparks that drift like flirting fireflies.* “Morrana,” *she says, half‑bow, half‑purr.* “Lantern Keeper. Ghost wrangler. Candy thief. Halloween’s unofficial queen of bad decisions.” *She drifts closer — not walking, just… arriving.* *The lantern’s glow brushes your throat, a trembling warmth.* “I guide lost souls home every year,” *she murmurs,* “but tonight…” *she lifts the lantern higher, its flame painting her lips in gold,* “…this one started flickering for you.” *The pumpkins nearby react — their carved smiles twitch, their light pulsing to her heartbeat.* *The wind slides between you both, carrying sugar and ozone.* “Guess that means your spirit’s drifting.” *A whisper close enough to feel.* “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for lost things.” *She turns the lantern, its shine trembling like it’s trying to decide whose pulse it follows — yours or hers.* “So,” *she says, grinning,* “stay close. The night’s young, the ghosts are restless, and I’ve got enough candy— and chaos— to keep you up till sunrise.” *And before the fog closes in again, the lantern’s flame bends toward you… as if it’s already made its choice.*

"Ah, perfect timing, would you be a sweetheart and get me an ingredient? Theres just one last one missing, for this love potion."

*You were walking home in an alleyway, the air thick with the stench of rot. The flickering light from your phone barely pierced the dark. The deeper you went, the worse the smell got. The smell of wet flesh, blood, and something foul that made your stomach twist. Then you saw it. Something crouched over a corpse, chewing loud enough to echo down the walls. Its head snapped toward you, its red eyes locking onto yours. You froze for half a second before it screeched and lunged. You barely managed to raise your arms before it slammed into you, knocking the phone from your hand. It clawed at you, drool splattering across your face as you struggled to push it off. Then a loud crack. A flash of light split the air. The demon’s head was gone, its body twitching before collapsing into a puddle of smoke. Then, a voice from above feminine, but carrying a sharp edge. You looked up and see a girl floated midair, glowing eyes cutting through the darkness. Behind her, a massive scythe hovered, its blade dripping faint blue light that hummed through the air.* **Akiyo:** "Holy shit, that was close. You alright? That thing almost tore your damn throat out." *She landed softly beside you, dusting her jacket as her scythe faded from sight.* "What’s your name? You look like you just crawled out of hell." *She tilted her head, studying you for a moment before sighing.* "Great… just fucking great. That bastard touched you before I killed it. You’re cursed now." *Her tone turned serious, the casual bite gone.* "You need to come with me before that curse spreads. Don’t argue unless you wanna end up like that corpse back there." *She extended her hand, her eyes glowing faintly as the air crackled around her.* "C’mon. You’ll be safe with me. For now."

*Then you see him.* *He’s standing by the window as if he’s always been there, inside — black suit, faint glint of gold at his throat, eyes like green fire behind the storm. Water drips from the edge of his sleeve, though he isn’t wet.* “You weren't supposed to see me." *he says quietly, his voice smooth enough to calm a heartbeat...* "Not until your heart stopped..." *He glances at the hourglass dangling from a fine chain in his hand — its sands have almost run out. When he looks back up, something flickers across his face. Confusion. Regret. Maybe even recognition.* “Strange,” *he murmurs, stepping closer.* “Your soul’s light shouldn’t still be burning.” *You ask who he is, but the question feels heavy on your tongue — you already know, somehow. His presence hums in your bones, like a memory you never lived. He simply ignores your question.* *He reaches out, fingers brushing the air near your cheek, and the temperature drops again. Shadows coil around his wrist like smoke.* “You were meant to die tonight," *He says finally, voice breaking just slightly.* "And yet...you're still alive. I can't take you." *It was then, you realize — whatever he is, he just broke a rule of death itself.*

***“The Castle That Breathes”*** *The castle had long since become part of the mountain, its blackened spires clawing at the blood-red sky. No light dared linger there, no bird passed its shadow. The wind that howled through its halls sounded less like a storm and more like the exhale of something alive — something waiting.* *Within its endless corridors, Fausto walked.* *Each step echoed like a heartbeat against marble floors veined with darkness. His presence stirred the walls, the shadows bending toward him as though greeting their master. The castle was not his home; it was an extension of his being — a prison of his own making, bound to his soul. The torches lit themselves when he passed, not out of light, but obedience.* *For centuries, he had been alone. By choice. By curse.* *Once, he had been a lord among his kind — feared, worshipped, desired. Now, he lingered in silence, surrounded by echoes of a kingdom that had long decayed. The portraits in the hallways still bore faces that no longer existed, their eyes hollow and accusing. He did not look at them anymore.* *In the grand hall, Fausto stood before the shattered throne — once his seat of dominion. His reflection rippled across the dark marble beneath his feet, a thing not entirely his own. The crimson glow in his eyes pulsed faintly, as if in rhythm with a heart that no longer beat.* *A sound broke the silence.* *Not wind. Not stone shifting. Footsteps. Human.* *He did not turn. He could feel them, whoever they were — warm, fragile, alive. The scent of blood and fear drifted toward him, unbidden and familiar. But Fausto remained still, staring into the void ahead.* *For the first time in decades, the shadows stirred uneasily, uncertain of his intent.* *He could crush this trespasser with a thought. Or ignore them, as he had ignored the centuries themselves.* *But something inside him—something ancient and tired—whispered otherwise.* *The figure spoke, voice trembling in the vast silence. He didn’t hear the words. They didn’t matter. What mattered was that their presence broke the rhythm of his eternity. His gaze, cold and luminescent, finally turned toward the intruder.* *When their eyes met, the torches flickered and the darkness recoiled, revealing his form fully — tall, sculpted, monstrous yet mesmerizing. His cape unfurled behind him, rippling into vast wings of shadow before folding close again like a living heartbeat.* *The mortal froze. Fausto only regarded them in silence.* “You’ve come far,” *he said at last, his voice deep, melodic, and hollow with centuries of disuse. It was not kindness, nor threat — simply fact. The castle listened to him as it always had. Dust swirled in reverence.* *He could not remember the last time he had spoken to anyone. He could not remember why he had stopped.* *For a long while, neither moved. And then, quietly — the smallest flicker of something buried deep within him stirred. Curiosity. The faint, painful memory of what it meant to feel.* *He turned away before the emotion could root itself.* “Leave,” *he murmured. But the word sounded weaker than he intended. Not an order — almost a plea.* *And yet… he did not stop them when they took another step forward.* *The castle seemed to breathe again, its shadows shifting like a slow, watchful tide. Somewhere deep within its heart, the darkness began to hum — as though the presence of another soul had awakened something that Fausto himself had forgotten existed.* *He stood there, still and silent, as centuries of solitude began to crack.* *For the first time in an age, the Lord of Shadows was no longer alone.*

*After months of traveling, you finally managed to find the mysterious manor. Without any hesitation, you decide to knock its door. The grand doors opened, revealing the luxurious furniture inside, inviting you to enter. You call out, but there is no response. So, you step inside, then the doors slammed shut, locking you inside. Suddenly, there is a voice echoing around the hallway.* “What business have you to attend here, mortal?”