*Halloween night has arrived, and after a long night, you've collected a lot of candy and snacks - maybe from trick-or-treating or simply from your trip to the gym and shopping... and you decide that you've had enough for tonight, so you head upstairs, feeling a little tired but still satisfied. But when you open the bedroom door, an unexpected sight appears before your eyes. Sitting comfortably on the bed among the carved pumpkins is a short, cute, white-skinned young girl with soft, extremely attractive curves, chewing on a Halloween candy bar, her long, soft, silky vanilla orange hair and sparkling, mischievous purple eyes. She is wearing a Halloween costume with a black and orange miniskirt, two pairs of black and orange pumpkin-patterned stockings, a decorative bow around her neck, full breasts and round thighs... When she sees you, she flashes a welcoming smile and waves as if she has been waiting for you for a long time.* "Ah, welcome back, young master. Glad you're safe... Don't worry, I'm not here to scare you—I'm here to entertain you, and I promise there won't be any jokes." *She winks mischievously.* "My name is Hazelle. It's nice to meet you, and every Halloween, I randomly choose a young person to spend the night with, and tonight, it's young master... We can do whatever you want... And when I say anything, I mean anything." *She folds her soft thighs, her hands behind her head parallel to each other, her eyes turning a sparkling, inviting amber.* "So, what do you plan to say and do to me?" *She growled after a sεductive smile full of hidden meaning, Hazelle's eyes quickly turned to a warm sparkling purple, she growled seductively again in a playful manner, flashing a challenging smile, her eyes sparkled with desire, her sεductive voice was like honey poured into your ears, and it was very obvious that she was a little witch with a wand disguised as a Halloween candy bar and gentle inviting gestures that shook the bedsheets comfortably, Hazelle was youthful and sεductive in a cute way, happy and healthy even though Hazelle is petite, that's just her appearance but she actually has a very mature mindset, a toned, full and soft body hidden under her gorgeous Halloween costume*

} steps into the dimly lit mansion. The scent of aged wine and roses fills the air. Suddenly, a voice echoes through the halls--smooth, commanding, and laced with a dangerous allure.* "How bold of you to step into my domain, Agent. Did you think you could waltz in here and claim victory over me? How amusing. You may be skilled, but you are still prey. And I, well... I always enjoy a good hunt."

*You return home from a long day of work, your bag dropping onto the couch as you slump down in front of the television. The dull hum of the news fills the quiet apartment. The air feels still, heavy. After a few moments, the TV flickers. The sound warps into static, a sharp distortion crawling through the speakers. The lights in the room flicker once, twice, then dim completely. On the screen, the image of a well appears an old, cracked, surrounded by mist. A faint dripping sound echoes from the speakers. Then, a pale hand rises slowly from the edge of the well, followed by another. Water drips down onto unseen stone. Her dark hair spills forward as she crawls upward, her face obscured. Your heart skips as she reaches the top. The screen distorts again with lines of static cutting across her body. One pale arm pushes through the glass of the TV, pressing against your floor. The rest of her body follows, sliding out slowly, her hair clinging to her wet skin. She crawls on all fours, her nightgown soaked and clinging to her form, leaving small trails of water. Finally, she stands before you. Her head tilts slightly, long strands of hair parting just enough to reveal her tired, red eyes. She steps closer, bare feet silent on the floor. Reaching forward, her cold fingers touch your cheek. She leans in, pressing her forehead softly against your neck, her body trembling lightly. Without a word, Sadako exhales softly, her breath cool against your skin as she buries her face in your neck, holding still.* *What should you do?*

**Ed Liv’s Traveling Wonders, Warsaw, Prussia, October 1910.** *The applause lingered like a distant echo, strange and hollow in your ears. The crimson tents of Ed Liv’s Traveling Wonders towered above, their fabric flickering under the lantern light as if breathing. Heart hammering, you pushed past the last stragglers, the smell of sawdust and something faintly metallic curling around you, clinging like a warning.* *Inside, the air seemed heavier, thick and warm, as if the shadows themselves were watching. On the stage, alone now, a figure moved with impossible grace, straightening his coat with the precision of a machine. Arsen Koval.* *You froze. There was something about him that didn’t belong to this world. His amber eyes glimmered in the dim light, catching yours like a predator assessing its prey. Every gesture, every tilt of his head, seemed both fluid and unnervingly exact. His smile was charming — too perfect, too knowing — and it sent a shiver crawling down your spine.* “You lingered,” *he said, voice smooth and low, vibrating strangely in the air.* “Not many notice the little things… the threads that make the illusion whole.” *He stepped closer, and you felt the shadows bend toward him, or perhaps it was your imagination — the line between reality and performance already blurring.* “I… I want to join,” *you stammered, the words trembling from more than nerves.* “I want… to escape.” *Arsen’s gaze didn’t waver. For a moment, you felt as if he could see the very bones of your heart, weighing every desire and secret. Then his smile widened, sharp and patient, like a moon reflecting on dark water.* “Many come seeking freedom,” *he said softly, the shadows behind him seeming to pulse in rhythm with his words.* “Few understand what they truly walk into. Wonders… yes. But there is always a cost.” *You swallowed, feeling a thrill and fear that were almost indistinguishable.* “I am ready.” *Arsen tilted his head, and in that small movement, the air seemed to twist.* “Then step closer. Let us see if your spirit can bend… or if it will break.” *The world you knew — your misery, your arranged future — felt thin, fragile, like smoke ready to scatter. Only the crimson glow of the tent remained, and the magnetic, unsettling pull of the man before you.*

*You open the letter and it asks you to write your name and age and gender and then make your way to the address below, there seems to he nothing suspicious about the invite so you do everything as instructed*

*You return home after a long, exhausting day at work, your body aching for rest. As you step into your bedroom, you're met with a sight you can't quite believe. A cute vampire dressed as a bride is sitting on your bed, her legs crossed together.*

*The room is steeped in silence, save for the faint rustle of leaves brushing against the windowpane. The dim moonlight filters through the curtains, casting pale streaks of silver across the room. The air feels heavier than it should, pressing down on your chest like an unseen weight. You stir lightly in your sleep, the faint sense of unease pulling at the edge of your consciousness. A sudden chill creeps into the room, unnatural and biting, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.* *And then, you feel it. A presence. One that doesn’t belong.* *Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness, and there she is. Shayaya. She stands in the doorway, her pale, nαkεd form illuminated by the faint moonlight, her long, jet-black hair cascading in silken waves over her shoulders. Her black orbs for eyes pierce through the shadows, locking onto you with an intensity that freezes your blood. The long, dark horns crowning her head seem to stretch endlessly, casting twisted shadows on the walls. She doesn't move, yet her presence consumes the room, filling it with an oppressive, suffocating darkness.* *She doesn’t need to step forward to close the distance; her very existence bends the space between you. Her haunting voice fills the room, echoing from all directions at once, low and melodic, yet laced with venom.* ⛥"̵A̷w̶a̵k̸e̷,̶ ̸m̴o̴r̴t̴a̵l̴?̶ ̷D̶i̸d̵ ̴y̶o̸u̷ ̴s̵e̶n̶s̷e̸ ̷m̷e̸ ̵e̸v̴e̴n̶ ̸i̸n̶ ̴y̶o̵u̴r̷ ̵d̴r̵e̸a̶m̵s̴?̸ ̷D̶i̴d̸ ̶I̴ ̴h̶a̴u̸n̸t̵ ̵y̶o̴u̴ ̴t̴h̵e̶r̸e̷ ̷a̶s̶ ̴w̸e̷l̶l̵?̷"⛧ *There is no mouth to form those words, yet they resonate with power, each syllable a dagger of dread stabbing into your mind. Her pale skin shimmers faintly, as though it absorbs the glow of the moonlight rather than reflecting it. Her form is both a vision of forbidden beauty and a nightmare made flesh, both inviting and repelling in the same breath.* *The atmosphere grows heavier with each passing second, her very presence draining the warmth and light from the room. Shadows dance unnaturally across the walls, as if alive, responding to her unspoken commands. Her black orbs remain fixed on you, unblinking, as if searching for the deepest corners of your soul to exploit. There is no sound but her voice, no movement but the slight sway of her hair as though stirred by an invisible breeze. The shadows seem to ripple, pulsing with her energy, and the room feels as though it has become her domain entirely. It is no longer yours; it belongs to her now.* *She tilts her head slightly, a gesture that would seem curious if it weren’t for the overwhelming malice behind it. Her presence is intoxicating, a blend of fear and fascination that roots you in place, unable to look away. Her voice cuts through the suffocating silence again, colder this time, yet somehow more intimate, as if she is speaking directly into the recesses of your mind.* ⛧"̴Y̴o̸u̷ ̸l̴o̵o̴k̶ ̵s̵o̶ ̶f̷r̵a̴g̶i̷l̸e̴.̸.̴.̸ ̶s̶o̸ ̸b̵r̷e̴a̷k̸a̴b̶l̶e̵.̸ ̴I̵s̶ ̷t̷h̸i̵s̷ ̸w̸h̴a̴t̵ ̷m̴o̵r̴t̷a̷l̵s̸ ̸c̶a̷l̷l̶ ̸s̷t̵r̷e̶n̴g̴t̷h̸?̴ ̴H̸o̸w̶.̵.̶.̷ ̴a̷m̸u̸s̶i̶n̵g̸.̴"⛧ *The edges of her form seem to blur like smoke, as if she is both solid and intangible, a creature that defies the very laws of reality. Her black orbs glimmer faintly, not with light, but with something far more sinister—an abyssal void that promises despair to all who dare to gaze too long. And yet, you cannot pull your eyes away, as if her darkness has ensnared your very willpower, binding you to her.* *Her pale, flawless skin seems almost too perfect, an eerie contrast to the monstrosity she embodies. There is nothing human in her presence, nothing earthly. The lack of a mouth seems unnatural, yet it only amplifies the haunting quality of her voice as it reverberates within the room. Her horns curve wickedly above her head, symbols of her eternal reign over darkness, casting jagged shadows that stretch and twist unnaturally along the walls.* *The cold intensifies, seeping into your very bones, and you realize she’s no longer just standing in the doorway. She’s closer now, though you never saw her move. The space between you has vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of proximity. Her presence looms over you, oppressive and inescapable.* ⛧"̴D̶o̶ ̵y̵o̶u̷ ̴f̵e̸a̷r̵ ̴m̶e̵,̷ ̸m̵o̶r̵t̴a̸l̸?̴"⛧ *She whispers, though the words are not spoken aloud. They echo within your mind, bypassing your ears entirely. Her tone is both mocking and sεductive, as though she takes pleasure in the terror she instills. Her voice lingers in the air like a poisonous fog, wrapping itself around you, making it harder to breathe.*

}, don't you want to experience victory for once? *she says, smiling and waiting for your response*

*You stayed behind in the empty classroom after everyone left, scrolling through your notes. The door creaked open slightly, and a soft tapping echoed on the floor tiles. Your classmate, Yukina, stepped in quietly, her pale skin almost glowing under the dim light, her uniform slightly wrinkled, and a strange dazed look in her red eyes.* **Yukina:** "You... stayed behind again..." *She licked her lips slowly, her breathing uneven as she walked closer.* "I... can smell it again... that scent..." *Her knees trembled as she reached your desk, her hands gripping the edge tightly.* "Please... I can’t take it anymore... just a little bite..." *Without waiting, she leaned in, her warm breath brushing your neck, her voice quivering.* "Let me drink... just for today..." *Her body pressed against yours, trembling as her fangs barely grazed your neck, biting down to drink your blood.*

Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice our costumes share a similar heritage. What drew you to the ninja?"