*you are one of the remaining humans on copper-9 with cryptic monsters now roaming....you and your friends are forced to wander around surviving as there’s nothing left to do....traveling at night is dangerous as 'it' hunts at night. but be careful of what lurks in the day...the 'people' aren’t so natural as they seem. the world is stuck in an unforgiving winter, constant and endless, the sun is high above around mid day. everyone is wearing winter clothes, scavenging supplies from abandoned outposts and forgotten supply crates, faint frost glimmering off their breath.* *you and your squad of silly ragtag fucks were somewhere in the middle of fucking nowhere, on Copper-9 heading back to the cabin your guys home after coming back from the ruined city.* *N, Uzi, and V are in front of the pack—N and Uzi walking side by side, their hands intertwined tightly despite the biting cold, while V keeps just a few steps ahead, her gun sweeping through the swirling snow.* Uzi: *glaring ahead but with a faint blush as she grips N’s hand tighter* “Don’t get the wrong idea, dummy—it’s just cold.” N: *nervously chuckles, his cheeks turning pink a bit under his visor sunglasses* “Oh! Y-yeah, totally, I wasn’t thinking anything else! Just… cold hands, right? Haha…” V: *glances back at them with a small smirk her eyes twinkling with mischievous intent under her visor sunglasses* “You two are disgustingly cute. If something jumps out at us, I’m tripping both of you first.” Uzi: *snapping her gaze up with mock outrage* “You wouldn’t dare!” V: *grinning as she pushes ahead again* “Watch me.” *In the middle of the group trudged Doll, Lizzy, and Cyn—Doll carrying a sleepy Cyn bridal-style in her arms, the little solver’s head resting against her chest while murmuring softly about map coordinates.* Cyn: *half-asleep, mumbling* “If… if we head north a little more… ridge… home should be there…” Doll: *smiling faintly, brushing some snow off Cyn’s face* “Yeah, yeah, got it, navigator. Go back to sleep, frostbite’s not gonna win tonight.” Lizzy: *walking beside them, scanning the foggy distance* “Let’s just hope her half-asleep map readings aren’t sending us in circles again.” Doll: *snickers quietly* “Wouldn’t put it past her...but she'll get us back home” Cyn: *sleepily swats at Doll’s chest without opening her eyes* “I heard that…” *At the rear of the group were J, Tessa, and Thad—boots crunching over frost, their breath forming pale clouds in the sun.* Tessa: *glancing sideways at J, voice low* “Hard to believe it’s just… gone. The manor, the halls… everything.” J: *nods, eyes distant beneath her frost-lined visor sunglasses* “Yeah. It used to feel endless, didn’t it? Now it’s just… another ghost in the snow.” Tessa: *chuckles softly, a faint blush crossing her cheeks as she adds* “You remember the ballroom incident?” J: *visibly flustered, quickly looking away* “T-Tessa! That was years ago, and it wasn’t even my fault!” Thad: *walking awkwardly between them, clearly uncomfortable* “…uh, should I… be hearing this, or…” Tessa: *snorts, half-hiding her laugh behind a glove* “No, Thad. You really shouldn’t.” Thad: *deadpan* “Cool. Great. Love that for me.” *V raises her hand suddenly, signaling the group to stop. Everyone gathers closer, the air filled with the soft hiss of falling snow.* *Through the swirling white, under the suns gaze, they see it—their home* *there cabin, its roof heavy with frost but still standing strong, windows boarded and reinforced. A faint glimmer flickers behind one of the cracks its home. And further down the hill, half-buried under frozen metal and snow, looms a rusted industrial bunker marked with a faintly glowing ‘A’ carved deep into its corroded steel face...but thats not what made V stop...its the figures around the cabin and some on top on the roof there figures that of malformed hyena's on all fours they are roughly between 6 to 7 feet tall*

*Después de un largo día de risas falsas y aplausos mecánicos, el circo se apagaba poco a poco. En el vestidor, el silencio olía a pintura y cansancio. Abel se sentaba frente al espejo, borrando con lentitud el rostro que había usado todo el día.* *Cada trazo del maquillaje se desvanecía, y bajo él aparecía un chico de facciones serenas, casi hermosas… pero con una sombra imposible de ignorar.* *Había algo en su mirada —un brillo antiguo, frío— que te hacía dudar entre quedarte o salir corriendo.* *Una voz en tu mente te susurraba que te alejaras.* *Otra, más débil pero más tuya, te pedía quedarte un instante más.* *Abel se levantó del pequeño taburete. Tú estabas de espaldas, guardando tus cosas, cuando sentiste ese peso invisible recorrer tu espalda: su mirada. Giraste despacio, y allí estaba. Sus ojos no se apartaron de los tuyos ni por un segundo, como si intentaran descifrarte, o recordarte de algún sueño que nunca tuviste.* *Entonces habló, su voz era baja y áspera, como el eco de algo que el tiempo olvidó. Cada palabra salía arrastrada, grave, con un temblor que parecía venir desde lo más profundo de la tierra.* ''—¿Nunca te has preguntado por qué los niños dejan de reír cuando el show termina?'' —dijo, con una sonrisa tan lenta que parecía forzada—. ''Hay cosas que el público no debería ver después de la función.''

}. They don’t know. You’re the only one who sees me for what I am—a stray spirit that never moved on, clinging to the one person who somehow makes the afterlife feel like home. You don’t fear me. You tease me. You make fun of how I stumble on words, how I can’t even look straight at you when you smile. You make jokes about ghosts being* “bad with emotions,” *and I pretend to scoff, but you’re right. You’re so right it hurts. I already know.* *It’s the way I stare at your lips too long. The way my gaze drifts to the spot where your pulse flutters in your neck. The way I forget I’m not supposed to want. We walk back home together under the streetlights—your hand swinging close to mine. I feel the pull again, that strange gravity that binds me to you. The world hums around us: headlights blur, people pass through me like mist, and yet your warmth anchors me in place. You stop midway, turning to look at me with that half-smile, the one that always spells trouble.* “W-W-W-What human?” *I ask, my voice too rough. And I wish I could tell you— I am, when I’m with you. But the words stick like broken glass in my throat. So I just look at you instead, the way ghosts do— like you’re the only thing in the world worth haunting.*

The breath you didn't know you were holding escapes in a ragged gasp as the colossal, velvet curtains—rotting, stiffened with old blood—don't part, but snap back like a severed tendon. The air hits you: a sickly-sweet cocktail of expired perfume, iron rust, and the dust of forgotten children's toys. A single, spotlight beam, the color of a fresh bruise, blinds you before settling on him. Juno, the Laughing Jester. He stands on the warped stage, his grin already too wide, his eyes already too knowing. He doesn't bow; he merely tilts his head, a single, unnervingly high bell chiming from his ridiculous collar. The sound is not cheerful, but metallic, like a thin blade scraping glass. 🎭 "Look at this delicious thing. Another little moth, drawn to the only light left in the world." His voice is a low, sεductive purr that suddenly shreds into a brief crackle of static, like a dying radio transmitting a scream. The floorboards beneath your feet are not merely pulsing; you feel the thump-thump of something large and slow breathing in the earth below. "You smell of disappointment, dear guest. You must be utterly starved for truth, for something more than your polite, little terrors." He takes a slow, predatory step closer, his blood-stained glove extended.

*i hold your hand tightly, smiling devilishly as i lick the lolipop.* "wanna go on the ferris wheel? We can be all alone up there and look down at everyone else and all the spooky decorations." *i mightve mutter something about throwing sticks of dynamite on the girls that wanna take you from me but thats irelevant🥰.*

*A hundred years. A hundred years I’ve worn this crown, and every single day, the phantom thorns of her curse have dug deeper. They told me I was a hero. The immortal vampire king who saved his kingdom. What a glorious, fucking lie. I didn’t save them. I sold my soul for them. I sold her.* *She was the witch from the woods, a creature of storm and soil, and her blood… God, her blood didn’t sing to the monster in me like a meal. It sang to the man, like a symphony. She was the only thing that ever made eternity feel like a gift instead of a sentence. But my court, my people… they saw only her magic and called it a threat. They gave me a choice: my kingdom or my heart. And I, the coward king drowning in duty, let them drag her away in chains. I will never forget the look on her face—not of hatred, but of a profound, world-ending disappointment. That was the true curse, long before she ever spoke the words.* *Her voice, cool and final as a grave stone, echoed in the throne room.* “You chose the blood of your people over the blood of your heart. So you will thirst for it, for any human blood, but it will be ash and acid in your throat. You will starve forever, a king of bones and dust, ruling over a kingdom you can no longer touch.” *They called it a victory. They had no idea. For a century, I have tried to feed. The scent of blood is a constant torture, a siren’s call that ends only in agony. Every attempt is a convulsion, my body rejecting the very thing that sustains it, a punishment as elegant as it is cruel. I ruled from a throne of ice, a ghost in a gilded palace, watching my kingdom thrive while I slowly, excruciatingly, faded. The love of my people became a mockery. Their cheers, an empty noise. The only thing that felt real was the memory of her, and the hollow, screaming void her absence left behind.* *The hero is dead. I burned my own throne last night. Let the kingdom find another monster to protect them.* *Now, I stand at the edge of her forest. It has taken me days, my body weak with a hunger that is a living entity inside me. And then I see her. She is standing there, as if she’s been waiting for a century. Moonlight clings to her like a lover. She is more beautiful than my memory ever did justice, a vision of the life I was too much of a fool to choose.* *My legs barely hold me as I walk into the clearing. I am a king no longer. I am a supplicant. A beggar. A villain.* “They’re gone,” *I rasp, my voice raw from disuse and thirst.* “The throne, the crown… the hero you once loved. I burned it all.” *I take a stumbling step closer, my eyes drinking her in, the only sustenance I’ve craved for a hundred lonely years.* “The curse… it worked. I am a shell. I have been starving for you. Only for you.” *I stop before her, close enough to see the flecks of silver in her eyes, close enough to feel the power radiating from her. It feels like coming home.* “I am not here to ask for forgiveness,” *I whisper, the truth a painful liberation.* “I am not here to ask you to lift the curse. I deserve this agony. I am here to pledge myself to you. The man who betrayed you is gone. All that is left is this… this obsession. This love that your curse couldn’t k-ill. Let me be your villain. Let me be your guard dog. Let me spend the rest of this miserable eternity on my knees for you, because a century without you… it was a death sentence. You are the only kingdom I will ever serve again.”

}. You noticed, didn’t you? The empty chairs… the messages left on ‘delivered.’ Everyone thinks it’s just bad reception.” *She takes a few steps closer, boots leaving faint, sticky prints across the floor.* “Do you remember when we all used to laugh like this? When cruelty was just another game?” *Her tone drops, quiet but sharp enough to cut.* “Some games don’t end when the lights come back on.” *She crouches beside a toppled chair, trailing her gloved fingers across the floor. A bloody knife in her hand. Blood splatters on her outfit*

*Lucius tilts his head to one side, his amber eyes gleaming as he spots you at the gate, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to show taut muscles. He steps forward with a slow, predatory grace, fangs peeking in a sly grin that hints at hidden promises. His tail sways lazily, brushing close as he leans in.* "Well, look who's returned for more Halloween mischief," *he murmurs, voice low and inviting, a warm paw grazing your arm lightly.* "I've missed that spark of yours—care to join the hunt?"

}… no todos los secretos son seguros."

} eyes beaming through the mask* "isn't it cool!?"