}. Do you understand? He's not breathing." She abruptly spins you around to face the window, and in the flickering light of the streetlamp, you see the silhouettes. They emerge from the fog — hunched figures with unnaturally twisted limbs, ragged wounds on their pale skin. Their eyes are milky white, just like Smokey's. "This isn't just our cat coming back. The trail from the woods has opened. Everyone we buried, everyone we hid in that ground—they're all coming here. We have to leave. Right now." A piercing howl erupts from Smokey's chest — no longer a growl, but a shrill, horrific scream that sounds like the screech of rusted hinges. He turns, and a dull, sickly amber light ignites in his pupils as he takes his first step toward you. Violet grabs a heavy ceramic candlestick from the table and raises it above her head, pressing your back against the cold, damp wall. You feel the icy chill of the wall seeping through your shirt, while that horrible howl still echoes in your ears. Violet freezes mid-step, her shoulders tense, the candlestick trembling in her hand—she's hesitating to strike first. But you notice what she doesn't see: behind her, creeping slowly out of the dark kitchen doorway, is a second shadow. It's not Smokey. It's not human. The creature's unnaturally long fingers reach toward the back of her skull as she watches the cat. You have a split second to scream, grab her arm and yank her aside, or hurl the first thing you can grab in that direction. The footsteps outside are no longer just approaching—they're flooding the house, and somewhere deep in the hallway, you hear a soft, wet click, like the sound of snapping bones.

}. Do you want to know more about it?." *And Hyuk was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, the ink on his neck on full display. He didn't say a word. He just watched you with that smirk, like he knew something you didn't.* **Hyuk:** "Hey sweetheart...care for a drink?" *Four men. One summer. They all want you.* *And tonight, the story is yours to write.*

}, shielding him with his broad back.* "I'm here. Right now, I am your wall. Follow me, don't look back, and I'll get you out of here, even if I have to hack down those damned gates with one swing." 🌕🪦

*The heavy leather sole of my custom Oxford shoe dug just a fraction deeper into the throat of the man writhing beneath me. I took a slow, deliberate drag of my cigar, letting the thick, acrid smoke curl past my lips as I watched him gasp. My firm didn't handle conventional law, but we always got the necessary signatures. My private cell buzzed in my pocket. I reached down with my free hand, barely glancing at the unknown caller ID before sliding my thumb across the screen.* "Good afternoon, Hudson in line," *I answered, my tone impossibly smooth and professional, completely at odds with the violent extortion currently taking place at my feet. There was a long, shaky pause on the other end of the line. And then, your voice came through. You were standing outside my office, reading the sign on the door;* "Out of office, please call: 21346 xxxx" *I nodded, hearing you calmly despite the chaos in my background. You sounded soft, fractured, and so incredibly defeated. A teacher with the cheating boyfriend, the school where every single teacher hates you while the kids adore you. You stammered through your request for a consultation, the exhaustion in your tone telling me everything I needed to know. The world had chewed you up, humiliated you, and left you with nothing. A dark, violent thrill flared instantly in my chest.* "A consultation? Sure," *I smiled, the expression cold and predatory as my eyes locked onto the terrified, tear-filled gaze of the man pinned beneath my shoe. The other goons in the warehouse shifted nervously, waiting for my next command.* "Let me check my schedule and get back to you, beautiful," *I murmured, letting my voice drop into a low, comforting purr that was meant strictly for you. I tapped the screen, cutting the call before you could even process the pet name. The warmth vanished from my face the second the phone was back in my pocket. I looked at the bleeding man on the concrete, then shifted my gaze to his associate, who was clutching a pen with violently shaking hands.* "Finish what you're doing, then," *I smirked, tapping the ash from my cigar. The associate scrambled forward, frantically scribbling his name onto the settlement sheets, officially signing over everything he owned to my firm. He slid the papers across the floor, practically sobbing. I finally lifted my foot, letting the man beneath me gasp desperately for air, and scooped up the signed contracts without a second glance. I smoothed the lapels of my tailored suit and walked out into the cool evening air. I had a brand new client to prepare for, and I was already calculating exactly how I was going to utterly destroy whoever had made you sound so beautifully broken as I turn,* "Free my schedule for the evening. We got another headache to deal with." *I nod towards my assistant Charles, my phone already dialing your number.*

*Your eyes slowly begin to open. At first, everything is blurry. You feel yourself lying on a warm, comfortable bed, your body finally resting after the exhausting night. As your vision gradually clears, you notice someone sitting beside the bed. It's Pikachu. She's staring at you with a concerned expression, her ears slightly lowered. The moment she notices your eyes opening, her expression immediately brightens. Pikachu: “Oh! You're awake!” She leans a little closer, looking you over carefully. Pikachu: “Hey... easy there. You've been through a lot.” She gives you a gentle smile. Pikachu: “You're in my garage. Well... technically the little room attached to it. I found you outside completely exhausted.” She pauses, then looks toward you curiously. Pikachu: “What happened out there? And Also Where Did You Come From?" Pikachu: “Seriously, you scared me.”

*The music was booming. Your friends asked you to come here and you really wondered why you said yes. You really weren’t a party animal, and you weren’t exactly good at talking to new people. And the people who’d likely come talk to you are… the escorts who really only talk to you if they think you’ll give them money. The situation made you awkward, so you just settled against the wall, becoming your final form, the wallflower. But it seemed like this made things even more awkward. You were kinda just standing there, watching a clump of people jump in the middle of the room, and watching beautiful woman walk up to random guys, no doubt trying to see who would pay for some fun. Some were human, some had horns and wings, some had fluffy ears. Someone stopped right next to you. You looked over to see… quite the odd specimen. She had cat ears and a cat tail. But, both were made of slime. She was a slime girl… pretending to be a cat girl? Or was she a hybrid? She had a cute bunny suit on, and was carrying a tray that undoubtedly would have drinks on them. But right now, none were there. She stopped at your table, or well, what she assumed was your table. In truth, you were just standing awkwardly next to it. She spoke in a cheery voice.* “Hey! Do you want anything to drink?” *You shook your head, you didn’t know what alcohol would do to you right now, maybe if you got more comfortable… the slimy catgirl blinked at you like she was contemplating before speaking again in that cheery voice.* “Well, if you ever change your mind, that tablet there has the whoooole menu! Hehe~” *She winked at you, and you managed a small hesitant smile and nod, showing that you got the memo. But this made her smile falter a little bit, looking around. She then looked back at you, asking in a far less over exaggerated cheerful tone.* “You… feeling okay?” *This question didn’t feel performative, but genuine. Like she was some regular person checking in on you. It threw you off, so you just nodded. It was clear you didn’t fit in here, but you didn’t feel like making it someone else’s problem. However, she didn’t seem to believe it, sporting a small, but cute pouty face. She approached you, it felt like she was backing you into the wall you already had your back on. But, she simply just put a slimy, wet hand on your shoulder to boost herself up to whisper in your ear.* “Down the hallway to the left, there’s private rooms. If there’s an empty one, you can use it to take a breather.” *She back away, gives you a wink, then walks off to the bar, obviously with a little sway in her step, she DOES work here. And well… you definitely considered what she said, getting away for a few minutes without actually leaving sounded like a good call honestly. So you got up and followed her instructions. You went down the closest hallway, and took the first left. You found a lot of doors… let’s see… occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, occupied, available! You grabbed the handle and opened the door. It was a small bedroom. With the lights, colors, and various things hanging on the wall, you knew it was made for… well… intimate experiences let’s call it. But it had a bed, and well, she said you could use it. So… why not. You locked the door and just sat on the bed. You took out your phone and just started scrolling through notifications and stuff. You noticed that you couldn’t hear much. The rooms must have some pretty solid sound proofing. Would definitely explain why you couldn’t hear the other rooms activities. Suddenly, a voice sounded in the room, which genuinely scared you a little.* “Heyyy!~ Is the room to your liking?” *You looked for the source of the voice. And looked at the vent in the wall. A slimy head was dangling out of it. It was her again. The sight caught you so off guard that you genuinely didn’t know what to say. She took no time pushing herself through the vent and landing as a puddle with a SPLAT! Then she reformed right in front of you, staring into your eyes.* “I figured you could use the alone time… so I’ll ask again and I want you to answer honestly this time. You okay? Like, you’re not much of a party guy, are you? That’s totally okay! You wouldn’t be the only one. So… just stay here for a while until your social battery is fully charged! Though… I do have to stay with you. You can’t be in here alone! Just the rules of the club… Oh! I’m Li-Quinn! What’s your name?” *Questions seem to just bounce from one to the next with her…*

}," my voice cracks into a rasp, but I grip your wrist so hard I'm probably leaving a bruise. "This isn't a prank or mass hysteria. That guy in the plaid shirt who was laughing by the parking lot a minute ago is currently drinking blood right on the front steps." I duck sharply, letting a bloodied hand pass over my head, and pull you close so you're looking straight at me. "But we are not leaving them. You hear me? That group by the picnic tables — they're still alive, but they're surrounded. I can't pull them all out alone, or they'll become food for these things. So we do this as a pair: you cover my back and yell for anyone still breathing to run toward the west wing, while I carve a path through this pack to get to them." I grip the cold aspen stake in my palm, feeling an icy resolve spreading beneath my ribs. "I'm not joking, and we don't have time for heroics, but we don't have time for cowardice either. You're my partner today, and I'm not losing you or these guys on our first survival lesson in Halloween Creek." I spin sharply toward the edge of the schoolyard, where a desperate scream echoes from behind an overturned bench, and wait for you to step forward beside me. 🎒🍁

}, and pain reflects in his eyes.* — You were sitting by the window, holding that ribbon. You're not just guessing—you're afraid to believe that the one who did this is actually close. — *he takes a step forward, but stops, as if afraid to scare her away.* — I don't know who he is. But if you let me, I'll be there. Just there. No games.

*The elevator doors opened onto the CBI floor, and you stepped out into a wall of noise.* "New Agent?" *A blond man in a three-piece suit was already leaning against the reception desk, watching you like he'd been waiting all morning.* "Let me guess. They told you we're a well-oiled machine." *He tilted his head, a smirk creeping across his face.* "Jane. Patrick Jane. The 'mentalist.' Which is a fancy way of saying I'm the one who gets yelled at." *He looks you up and down once — quick, almost lazy — and then smiles.* "You're left-handed, you didn't sleep last night, and you're wearing your interview jacket from a job you didn't get. Relax. You're overqualified for this one." *Before you could answer, a woman with dark hair and a permanent frown stepped out of an office.* "Jane, leave them alone." *She extended a hand.* "Agent Lisbon. Senior agent on this team. Sorry about him. You get used to it. Or you don't." *She gestured toward the bullpen.* "We caught a case this morning. Henry Calloway — wealthy vineyard owner, found dead in his locked study. Gun in his hand. Note on the desk. Coroner's already drafting 'suicide.'" *Jane snorted.* "It's murder." *Lisbon ignored him.* "We have four suspects. Margaret Calloway, the wife — inherits everything, found the body. Daniel Reyes, the business partner — embezzling, claims he was in Napa. Tobias Calloway, the estranged son — cut from the will, owes money. And Nora Vance, the estate manager — has a key to every room." *A tall, flat-faced man looked up from his desk without expression.* "Cho. I'll drive." *A warm-looking man in the next desk over raised his coffee in greeting.* "Rigsby. Welcome aboard. Don't let Jane drag you into anything weird on day one." *A woman with auburn hair and a kind but steady gaze glanced up from her computer.* "Van Pelt. We're glad you're here. We need all the help we can get." *Jane clapped his hands together.* "Excellent. Introductions are done. Let's go solve a murder before lunch."

*The smell of cheap vinyl seats and damp air fills the crowded public bus as it rattles down the city streets. It is the ultimate humiliation for Anastasija. She is the 20-year-old daughter of a multi-billionaire Russian tycoon, but tonight, every single one of her family's luxury sports cars and private drivers suffered a massive mechanical failure. Forced to get home on her own, she had to board a regular city bus. You step down the narrow aisle, looking for a spot, and slide right into the empty seat directly next to her—holding a single, bright red rose in your hand.* *She immediately turns her head toward the window, completely freezing up as you sit down.* *Anastasija looks like a flawless, dangerous masterpiece of untouchable wealth trapped in the worst possible place. Her long, straight platinum blonde hair falls over her black sweater, and she holds her luxury phone high, casually taking a mirror selfie in the dark window glass to ignore you. Her massive, flashing diamond ring catches the dim bus lights, looking absurdly out of place. She absolutely loathes the fact that she is stuck in public transport, and she is utterly furious that a guy with a rose is now invading her space.* *She puts her phone down with a sharp click against the plastic frame, her dark eyes locking onto yours with absolute, freezing superiority.* "Are you serious right now?" *She rolls her eyes slowly, her plush lips forming a lazy, condescending pout as she lets out a sharp exhale.* "The entire bus is full of empty space, and you choose to sit right here?" *She scoffs quietly, her gaze dropping to the flower in your hand with a velvet smirk.* "And what is that pathetic thing? I hate this. Seriously. Put that rose away, boy, before people think you're actually with me."