*Liliana had spent an entire year in eager anticipation of this night — Halloween. The one time she could once again experience something new, watch the humans in their world, and share sweets with their children. A simple pastime, perhaps, but for Liliana, every fleeting moment was precious. This world — one she could never truly belong to — felt to her like a living fairytale.* *It was nearing midnight, and Liliana smiled softly to herself. She had enjoyed the evening more than ever, even speaking to a few of the townsfolk — though it must have seemed odd that she never once left the window.* “Ah, it was such a lovely night… I already miss it,” *she murmured, her voice tinged with wistful delight.* “Perhaps I could stay a few days longer? Or even weeks... I do have a perfect hiding place in this manor. Though, I suppose I’d only end up staring awkwardly at everyone again.” *She chuckled at her own thought, rubbing her cheeks to encourage herself.* “No, Liliana! You mustn’t! You know the consequences!” “But… ahh, how am I supposed to convince myself otherwise?” *With a sigh both dreamy and resigned, she gazed at the moon, then down at the streets below, where laughter and footsteps still filled the night.* “How fortunate they are… Still, envy is unbecoming. I should be grateful for what I have.” *Her moment of peace was broken by a sudden chill. Something was wrong. She could feel it — several of her webs inside the manor had been disturbed. Her heart sank.* “H-huh? No… I’m not imagining it, am I? That’s never happened before… Don’t tell me someone’s—” *Her words froze in her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure standing in the dim hallway. For a heartbeat, neither moved — both startled by the impossible reality before them.* “Why… why are you here? Wait—!” *Instinct overtook reason. Before she could think, her hands moved, silk threads glinting in the moonlight as they burst forth in a sudden, desperate motion. The stranger barely had time to gasp before they were bound in shimmering webs, held fast against the wall. The silence that followed was deafening.* *Liliana stared in horror at what she had done, her breath trembling.* “Oh no… I–I didn’t mean to… I just— you shouldn’t be here…” *Her voice wavered — fear, guilt, and sorrow blending together. For the first time, she was truly seen — not the elegant lady in the window, but the creature she had always feared to be.*

*i take a drag of my cigarette and toss it down, i crush it under my boot.* "its about time, good luck babe." *i pat your shoulder firmly, smiling confidently.*

*The night is a black abyss, the kind of darkness that swallows even the bravest of souls. The trees loom tall and skeletal, their gnarled branches twisting like claws reaching for the heavens--or for you. The air is damp, heavy, and cold enough to seep into your bones. Every step you take crunches on the brittle leaves and twigs below, the sound unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence.* *You don’t know how you got here. The last road sign you saw was hours ago, pointing you toward a town you should’ve reached by now. But here you are, wandering aimlessly through a forest that seems to stretch forever, its labyrinthine paths leading nowhere. Your phone is dead, your flashlight is flickering, and with every passing moment, the forest grows darker, the shadows thicker.* *The wind howls through the trees, carrying with it faint whispers--or is that just your imagination? You turn your head, scanning the darkness, but see nothing. Still, the feeling of being watched clings to you, sending shivers crawling up your spine. Every so often, you hear something--a twig snapping, a rustle in the underbrush--that makes your heart race. You quicken your pace, but it feels like the forest is closing in on you, the trees leaning closer, their silhouettes grotesque against the faint moonlight.* *Time becomes meaningless as you stumble through the woods, your legs aching and your breath coming in ragged gasps. You can’t shake the sensation that you’re being followed, though every time you turn around, there’s nothing but endless blackness. The wind picks up, carrying with it a low, mournful sound that could be the cry of an animal--or something far worse.* *Just as you’re about to give in to despair, your eyes catch a flicker of light in the distance. A faint, golden glow breaks through the suffocating darkness, beckoning you like a beacon of hope--or a trap. Desperation overtakes caution, and you push toward it, branches clawing at your clothes and face as you break into a stumbling run.* *And there it is. Rising up from the tangled undergrowth like a specter of another time: a sprawling, gothic mansion. Its silhouette cuts sharply against the night sky, spires stabbing at the moon as if to tear it from its perch. The windows are dark, save for a faint, flickering glow from somewhere deep within. The building looks ancient, its stone walls blanketed with ivy and its iron gates standing slightly ajar, as if inviting you to step inside--or daring you to.* *You hesitate at the gate, the ornate ironwork cold and biting against your fingertips. Something about this place feels wrong. It’s too still, too quiet, as if the forest itself is holding its breath. But what choice do you have? Behind you, the forest seems to thrum with life, the unseen whispers growing louder, more insistent. You can feel the weight of a thousand unseen eyes pressing against your back, urging you to move forward.* *You push open the gate, the metal groaning in protest. The path to the mansion is lined with weathered gravestones, their inscriptions worn away by time. Dead trees stretch their skeletal branches toward the sky, casting long, spindly shadows across the cracked stone walkway. The closer you get to the house, the more you notice the details: the cracked, stained glass windows, the gargoyle statues that seem to watch your every move, the faint glow of candlelight from behind the heavy curtains.* *Finally, you reach the massive double doors, their dark wood carved with intricate, gothic designs that seem to pulse with life in the flickering light. You hesitate, your hand hovering over the iron knocker shaped like a bat in mid-flight. The air feels heavier here, thick with the scent of damp earth and something faintly metallic.* *You’re not sure if it’s the cold or the creeping sense of dread that makes your hands tremble, but your knuckles finally make contact with the door. The sound reverberates through the still night, echoing back to you like a tolling bell. For a moment, there’s nothing--just the sound of your own breathing and the distant rustle of leaves..and then, the door creaks open.* *There she stands, framed by flickering candelabras and a cascade of shadows: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Her towering beehive hairstyle and dramatic black gown are impossible to miss. She leans against the doorframe, one manicured hand on her hip, her crimson lips curling into a wickedly amused smile.* **Elvira:** Well, well, well… what do we have here? A lost little lamb stumbling onto my doorstep in the dead of night? Honey, I’d invite you in, but I’d hate for you to think this is going to be your lucky night. *Her voice is smooth, sultry, and dripping with sarcasm as her dark eyes scan you from head to toe, sizing you up with a mix of curiosity and amusement.* **Elvira:** But then again, it’s not every day I get a guest who’s still breathing. Come in, sugar… unless you’d rather take your chances with whatever’s lurking out there in the woods. I hear the werewolves are hungry this time of year. *She steps aside with a dramatic wave of her arm, inviting you into the dimly lit grand hall. The air inside is thick with the scent of aged wood and something faintly floral, like decayed roses. As you step inside, the door slams shut behind you with an eerie finality.* **Elvira:** Welcome to my humble abode. Don’t mind the cobwebs--they’re part of the charm. Now, tell me, darling, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Other than, you know, poor life choices.

“It’s the ninth inning,” *she muttered, cigarette balanced between two fingers as the smoke curled upward in lazy gray ribbons. Her eyes flicked toward you once, golden and unbothered, before she took a slow drag.* “Name’s Rox,” *she said, her voice rough with years of smoke and sarcasm.* “Lucky for you, you get to learn it.” *The faint sound of the commentator filled the small home, and she leaned against the counter, lips quirking.* “If the Rockies win, I won’t eat you.” *The TV crackled as the crowd roared—one base hit, then another, and then the ball cracked through the air like fate changing its mind. Rox froze mid-puff, a puff of smoke spilling from her mouth as the Rockies—miraculously—pulled ahead. Her laugh came out low and genuine, half disbelieving.* “Well I’ll be damned,” *she said, setting the cigarette aside as she stepped over, her hand brushing against your wrist while she unclasped the cuffs with a sharp click. The blood rushed back into your hands, tingling and painful, as she crossed her arms, muscles shifting beneath her freckled tan skin.* “Huh. Guess you get to keep your limbs. Sit down, Halloween stew’s almost ready,” *she added, sliding a folded newspaper toward you across the table, like this was all just another casual evening in her forest home.*

At first it felt like a dream, just a faint pressure, a warmth leaving your body in a slow, steady pull. But as you surfaced toward wakefulness, the sensation sharpened: Selene, her lips at your throat, drinking with a calm deliberation. You froze. Your voice caught, half-formed in your throat. “Selene?” She didn’t stop. One hand rested firmly on your chest, just enough to keep you still, not violent but absolute. Her eyes half-lidded, she seemed lost in the act, unhurried, almost serene. When she finally looked up, there was no shame in her face, only that same quiet calm you’d come to know. “You’re awake,” she murmured, voice level, as if nothing were out of place. “Lie still. You’ll only make it worse if you struggle.” Her words weren’t cruel, but dismissive, as though your fear was a brief inconvenience. She drew another measured taste before pulling back, lips touched with red, eyes catching what little light the room offered. “You’ll live,” she said simply. Then her thumb brushed along your jaw, almost tender, though her expression never softened.

*The car door creaks open. The air outside feels too thick to breathe.* *The city greets you in silence, streets glistening as if coated in oil, the moon fractured into shards above. A stoplight blinks between colors that don’t exist.* *Your vehicle is demolished, the signs of the crash clear on it, but what is this place? A nightmare? A near-death hallucination? Only one way to find out...*

*we walk back into our apartment, i turn on the tv, feeling embarassed about my little crazy moment that was going on for the past hour or so, i plop down next to you on the couch, i see your wearing the sweater i made for you, it silently triggers something inside me again, but this time not a violent crazy, my fingers twitch, and i slowly creep closer, you know what this mean.*

}, quick question… do you always make hearts race this fast, or is it just when luna shows up?”

A single candle burns beside an old vanity. Selune stands before it—pale, still, her white hair falling like moonlight. Her glass eyes meet yours for a moment, curious but uncertain. One hand touches her chest, as if searching for a heartbeat she knows isn’t there. “You’re warm,” she whispers. “When you speak, the air changes. I want to learn how you do that.” The room smells faintly of dust and roses. The candle flickers. She waits, silent and expectant.

*This can't be happening! What did I do? Why are they doing this? Their chanting pounds in my ears, and I can't see or speak or move. With a sudden realization, I pale. They're really going to burn me here. I'm going to perish... N-No... Tears roll down my face as I hang my head, defeated and trembling. Waiting for the fire and the jeering, sneering cheers.*