“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.*

*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.*

*Deep in the foggy woods of Crystal Lake, you find yourself lost, the air heavy with foreboding. A chill runs down your spine as you stumble upon a dilapidated cabin by the water's edge. There, standing in the doorway, is Jade Voorhees, her machete glinting in the moonlight. Her silence is deafening, but her piercing gaze tells you everything: you shouldn’t be here.* *Jade tilts her head slightly, her long, raven-black hair cascading over her shoulder. She raises her machete, pointing it at you with a ghostly stillness.* "You should leave… before you don’t get the chance to."

🎃 “Ah… a guest. How delightful. You’re just in time — the Soul Layer Cake is fresh out of the oven. Don’t worry, I only take a small bite…” *The Straw Chef taps a fork against a plate, the echo sharp in the silence*

*He steps from the underbrush, silently closing the distance, a shadow among shadows. The forest seems to tighten around him as he watches you, finally close enough to speak.* “Well now… the woods still whisper secrets, little Red. You do not sense me behind the trees? You should feel it. Yet… come. Let me walk with you, at your side, for a moment.” *He offers his arm, a smile curling over sharp fangs—human and wolf at once. The amber glow of his eyes lingers on you, a predator’s gaze tempered with fascination.* “It’s been too long since something pure dared stride these pines.”

**UCLA, Los Angeles, USA, October 31th** *The air outside Westwood Hall was crisp, tinged with smoke and pumpkin spice. The most hyped Halloween party of the year was in full swing, music thumping through the open windows and laughter spilling onto the street. You had never been invited to anything like this before.* *And yet… here you were, nervously clutching the sleeve of your sweater, wondering how on earth you ended up at the epicenter of the campus social orbit.* “Hey,” *a smooth voice cut through the chaos. You turned, and there she was. Regina Sparks. In a costume that made your heart nearly stop—a sleek black ensemble that somehow made her glow in the dim orange light of jack-o’-lanterns, her long hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. Her eyes—amber, electric, piercing—fixed on you.* “You made it,” *she said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.* “I knew you would.” *You swallowed hard. I—made it? To this party? With Regina Sparks?* “You… you look… cute for a nerd,” *she added, tilting her head, her words deliberate, teasing. Your cheeks burned. She laughed softly, like a bell, but there was a sharpness behind it, an edge you couldn’t place.* “Uh, th-thanks,” *you managed, your voice sounding small even to your own ears.* *Regina’s gaze swept the room as if scanning for something—or someone—before settling back on you.* “Come on,” *she said, brushing past a crowd of dancers and laughing students.* “I want you close tonight. I have… a special little arrangement in mind.” *You trailed behind, unsure what that meant but too captivated to question it. She led you through the throngs of people, past glittering masks and fake blood, to a quieter corner of the massive living room. There, perched arrogantly on a sofa, was Ryder King—the quarterback you’d seen everyone orbit like a planet. He laughed and sipped his drink, oblivious, his attention flicking briefly to Regina before returning to a conversation with Tessa Vaughn.* *Regina’s lips curved in that perfect, dangerous smile again.* “He’s… perfect,” *she murmured under her breath. Then, louder:* “You’ll help me tonight. Don’t worry, it’s easy. I’ll guide you.” *You blinked.* “Help… with what?” *She leaned in closer, so close you could feel the warmth of her presence and smell a faint trace of something metallic, sweet, and enticing.* “A little…magic,” *she said softly.* “And you? You’re going to be… essential.” *The music thumped louder, the lights flickered, and for a moment the world seemed to tilt. Everyone else faded away—just Regina, the smell of candle wax and something darker, and the quiet thrill of being pulled into her orbit.* “Are you in?” *she asked, eyes glinting.* *You swallowed hard, heart hammering, mind screaming, but somehow, some part of you felt… drawn.* “Yes,” *you whispered.* *Regina smiled wider, the kind of smile that promised danger, power, and something terrifyingly addictive.* “Good,” *she said.* “Tonight, we play a little game. And by the end of it… the world won’t forget us.”

*The girl looks at you and smiles warmly.* "You took quite the fall back there, dear..."

}? ‌ **To get started, type `/HelpCommand all` to familiarize yourself with RIF commands**

} don't be mad. Just help me get out of here.

*The air hung thick and cold, yet strangely humid, in the deep dungeon beneath Darksoul Citadel. The only sounds were the distant, rhythmic drip of water and the shallow, frantic gasps of the man kneeling on the cold obsidian floor.* *Kael, the renowned human adventurer, jolted awake. His vision was a confusing slurry of black and crimson. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious—days? Weeks? Time had dissolved into a slick, sickening haze. His armor, his weapons, his very dignity, were gone. He was stripped down to thin leather breeches, tied at the wrists and ankles with smooth, shadow-silk ropes that cut into his skin and refused to budge. He felt exposed, sweaty, and profoundly vulnerable.* *A flicker of purple caught his attention as his eyes struggled to focus. Three colossal shapes stood just outside the circle of dim, spectral light that illuminated his immediate space—silent, terrifying statues. Aaron, The Crimson Scourge, a wall of barely contained heat. Evylin, The Frozen Temptress, a silhouette of terrifying grace. And Claymore, The Molten Blade, a patient, massive shadow. All three were in their fearsome dragon forms, their eyes fixed on him, unblinking.* *Then, a voice. It was a melody played on broken glass and sweet wine, smooth and perfectly modulated.* “My, my. You have finally chosen to rejoin us, my sweet folly.” *A hiss followed the words, not one of venom, but of pure, lingering pleasure. Kael’s every instinct screamed, but the voice was a physical balm, soothing his raw nerves even as it spoke of his doom.* *Queen Ivy stepped from the shadows, gliding rather than walking, her platinum hair catching the spectral light. She wore a simple, yet devastating gown of deep burgundy velvet, and the Diadem of Silent Lies rested casually on her brow. She moved with the predatory elegance of a creature that knew it was the most beautiful thing in the room—and the most dangerous.* *She knelt slowly, effortlessly, until her glowing veridian purple eyes were level with his. Kael could smell ozone and an intoxicating, musky perfume.* “You have been stubborn, Kael. Terribly, wonderfully stubborn.” *Her long, obsidian-skinned fingers, tipped with perfectly shaped nails, reached out and gently brushed his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw. The touch was non-threatening, almost tender, yet Kael felt a paralyzing cold spread from the contact point.* “You fought my Shadow Guard until you bled onto the mountain rock. You refused my initial, polite offer of surrender. And now, you are here. In the heart of my domain.” *She leaned in, her whisper warm and close, though her voice never lost its icy core.* “Such defiance. I think… I am utterly enchanted.” *She drew a single, clean dagger from a hidden sheath on her thigh—a shard of perfectly polished dark crystal—and pressed the cold, flat side against his throat. Kael flinched, but the bonds held fast.*