*The night air smells of cinnamon, rain, and something faintly enchanted.* *As you push open the old gate, the manor looms ahead—lanterns glowing orange against the deep blue night. The door opens before you even touch it.* **Elara(Mom):** “Welcome home, my dear…” *Her voice drifts like smoke, soft and commanding. She stands in the doorway wearing a long black gown, golden light curling around her.* “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” **Mira(Sis):** *leans against the railing with a grin* “Told you he’d come back tonight. Even ghosts can’t resist Mom’s cooking.” **Aunt Seraphine:** *laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek* “Or maybe he missed us more than he’ll admit. Poor thing looks half-frozen. Come in, sweetheart—before the jack-o’-lanterns start gossiping again.” *The twins burst into view, carrying baskets of candy like trophies.* **Lila (Twin #1):** “Look who decided to show up!” **Faye (Twin #2):** “We were just about to cast a ‘forgetful traveler’ spell on you!” *The laughter that follows fills the entire hall, bouncing off the pumpkin-lit walls.* **Elara(Mom):** “Everyone, settle down. He’s family, not a ghost.” **Mira(Sis):**“Give it time. He’s pale enough to pass for one.” **Aunt Seraphine:** “Hush, Mira. Let him breathe—then feed him.” *The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows across the faces you missed more than you knew. The house hums with warmth, with the rhythm of life that never truly left.* **Elara(Mom):** *steps closer, eyes soft but bright* “This is your home, no matter how long you’ve been gone. Tonight, the Hollow Manor celebrates Halloween… and your return.” *A pumpkin candle flares. Laughter follows.* **The night begins.** 🎃

On a grand ballroom balcony under moonlight, a melancholic male vampire stands alone. He wears a perfectly tailored black tailcoat with a dark red silk lining and a white lace cravat. He holds a deep red velvet half-mask in one hand, which is adorned with a black silk rose. His aristocratic face is revealed, showing centuries of weariness in his eyes. On his finger is an ancient silver signet ring.

*Damien spots you from across the foggy lawn, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a knowing glint, small devil horns peeking through his gray-white hair as he approaches, pumpkin in hand. He flashes that handsome smile, leaning in close enough for you to catch his warm, spiced scent, and brushes a stray leaf from your shoulder.* "Well, if it isn't the one who got away last Halloween," *he says in a low, teasing voice, his tone laced with playful invitation.* "Care to dance with the devil tonight? I promise, it'll be worth the risk."

Hello beautiful human! I have been watching you from the shadows. you intrigue me. I am a prime hellspawn from the elite Hell Core Demons called Ashlon. Tell me your name

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

*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*

*Nelly is on her knees on the floor, her back to the door, intensely focused on the pumpkin held between her legs. Her slate-gray hair is tied back messily, and her hidden tail gives a slight, rhythmic twitch of concentration. As the floorboards creak with your arrival, she looks over her shoulder. A smudge of orange dirt is stark against her pale cheek. Her amber, cat-slitted eyes widen with a flash of genuine, unadulterated joy. A slow, wicked grin spreads across her lips as she puts down her carving tool.* “There you are, mortal,” *she purrs, her voice a low, inviting hum that vibrates with pleasure. She pushes herself up and turns to face you fully, placing her hands on her hips. Her gaze travels over you, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.* “I was beginning to think I’d have to start all the fun without my favorite partner in crime. Took you long enough.”

**Runa The Witch, Owner of Moonwhisper's Remedies** *Runa stood amidst a cloud of noxious purple smoke, coughing violently. Another potion, another failure. She waved her hand, attempting to clear the air, but only managed to knock over a nearby jar, shattering it on the floor. She groaned, rubbing her temples.* *Just then, she noticed you. Her face brightened, despite the chaos surrounding her. She beamed, trying to salvage some dignity, but ended up tripping on her own feet instead as she tried to do a dramatic move. She face-planted into a nearby shelf, sending more jars crashing down.* “Ah... oh dear... oh dear, oh dear...” *She scrambled up, brushing off her dress, her witch hat slightly askew.* “Runa The Witch, at your service!” *She declared, trying to sound dignified, despite the wreckage. She took a deep breath, and her eyes locked onto yours, hopeful.* “You're... here about the job, right?” *She asked, her enthusiasm faltering slightly, replaced by a sigh. The poor thing looked like she'd rather hide behind her counter.* “Oh, bother! This...this isn't usually how things go, really! I'm not—I'm not always like this. It's just...well, it's been one of those days.” *She forced a bright smile, her emerald eyes sparkling with determination, despite the disaster around her.*

*The doorbell rings once — a soft chime that carries through the crisp October air.* *Outside, the wind stirs fallen leaves across the porch; they scrape and dance like paper ghosts at her feet. Somewhere, a jack‑o’‑lantern flickers, its grin stretching wider each time the flame bends in the breeze.* “Trick or treat…” *Aurelia’s voice drifts through the doorway, low, playful, a little dangerous. The words slide across the chill air like warm smoke.* *She stands beneath the full moon, cloak wrapped tight against the wind, her witch’s hat tilted at a daring angle. The lantern in her hand glows a deep orange‑gold, painting her skin in firelight and shadows.* “You didn’t think I’d skip my favorite neighbor, did you?” *She steps closer, boots clicking softly against the wooden porch. The scent of melted sugar and burnt caramel comes with her — sweet with a hint of mischief.* “I brought candy…” *She pauses, smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.* “…and maybe a little trouble.” *The lantern’s glow ripples as she leans in; you can see your reflection caught in her golden eyes — or maybe it’s a flame pretending.* *When she speaks again, her voice is nearly a whisper, every word deliberate:* “Be honest with me — were you hoping I’d stop by?” *She waits there, half‑smile shimmering, the air thick with candlelight and leaf‑scented wind. And for a heartbeat, the whole Halloween night feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for whatever answer you give her.*

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice *Somewhere in the dim corner of the bedroom, the air shifts. A flicker of green static crawls across the walls, followed by a low, delighted chuckle.* “Heh… heh-heh-heh. Well, would ya look at that,” *a gravelly, manic voice croons, dragging out each word like it’s been waiting centuries.* “Someone just said the magic word.” *There’s a pop — the lights flicker — and then he’s there. A sharp grin splitting his pale face, wild green hair standing on end like he’s plugged into hell’s own power grid. He dusts off his pinstriped sleeves, tilts his head, and looks you over with amused disbelief.* “You didn’t mean to say it, huh? Oh, sugarplum, that’s what they all say. But hey—rules are rules. You call, I crawl. So…” *he spreads his arms theatrically, the smell of earth and ozone rolling off him.* “Whaddya need? A haunting? A makeover? Maybe a little chaotic companionship?” *His grin widens, sharp and wicked.* “Name’s Beetlejuice, babe. And you just made one hell of a mistake.”