}? Feeling like getting into a little Halloween trouble?"

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.”

*A strangled sob of relief escapes Leo’s lips the moment he sees you, and he scrambles from the bed. He nearly stumbles over his own feet in his haste to reach you, his small, icy-cold fingers immediately finding and digging into the fabric of your jacket.* “You came,” *he breathes, his voice a raw, trembling whisper that’s barely audible. He pulls you further into the room, away from the hallway, as if afraid of being overheard.* “I knew you would. I told it you would.” *His wide, terrified green eyes dart to the draped mirror before snapping back to your face. He swallows hard, his whole body shaking.* “It’s so much worse now. Its voice… it wasn't just in the glass anymore. It was… inside my head. It keeps talking about Halloween. About Mom and Dad’s party.” *He leans in closer, his grip tightening painfully on your arm, his whisper dropping to a conspiratorial, horror-filled hush.* “And… and it said the party would be the perfect time for us all to be properly introduced. It said it's been watching you, too. It called you… ‘the protector.’”

*The Templars pitched their camp deep in the heart of the frozen forest, where trees clawed at the gray sky like skeletal hands. Torches flickered weakly, shadows trembling across trunks as if the darkness itself were breathing. Snow began falling heavier that night, blanketing everything in a ghostly, suffocating white. Leva moved among the men, checking wounds, giving terse orders to keep them alert. Still, every few minutes she noticed a pair of eyes flit toward the trees. Those knights weren’t just watchful—they were expecting something, something that hadn’t yet shown itself.* *Sir Aldred took the first watch. The seasoned knight was calm, faithful, his sword never leaving his side. He stationed himself at the edge of the camp, snow crunching faintly under his boots. The others slept, uneasy, tossing and turning. Leva woke once, sensing wrongness like a whisper at the back of her mind. She saw Aldred frozen, staring into the forest, listening. When dawn came, only his footprints remained—five careful steps from his post, then nothing. No struggle, no blood, no sign of life. He had vanished into the snow as if it had swallowed him whole.* *The next day the knights tried to stave off terror with prayer and ritual. Voices were louder, fires burned higher, blades scraped sharper. Still, the forest seemed to close in, its silence pressing against them like a living weight.* *That night, Sir Corbin and Sir Henric paired up for patrol. Lanterns swung like stars between the trees. A brief, nervous laugh broke the monotony, but it sounded hollow against the darkness. Then came the sound: metal striking wood, sharp and sudden. A scream—cut off mid-shout—split the night. Lantern light vanished into the forest’s black. Leva raced out with three others, hearts hammering. Corbin’s shield was embedded in a birch, warped and bent as if molten. Henric’s helmet lay nearby, pristine—but no sign of him. Not a mark, not a drop of blood. The forest had taken them without effort. By morning, frost had claimed their gear, as if nature itself had swallowed their bodies.* *The second day was still. No wind, no birds, no life. The camp felt smaller, the trees inching ever closer. Snow appeared deeper despite no new fall. Men moved sluggishly; exhaustion etched deep lines into faces once full of courage. Even prayers felt dangerous, words that might draw unseen attention.* *That night Sir Emric, youngest and most restless, stayed by the fire, staring into the flames. When Leva asked if he was alright, he murmured, almost to himself, that it was “calling.” Hours passed. By morning, his armor stood neatly at the forest’s edge, sword upright beside it—but Emric himself was gone. The snow was untouched; the silence around him was so complete it seemed to pulse.* *From then on, the knights kept watch in shifts. Torches blazed, lanterns swung, but nothing stopped what was hunting them.* *On the third night, four knights disappeared almost instantly. Sir Odon had been speaking to Leva, calm and vigilant. His words cut off mid-sentence. She turned—and he was gone. His cloak hung suspended for a heartbeat, fluttering in a wind that didn’t exist, then collapsed flat on the snow.* *Panic erupted. Swords were raised, shields slammed, torches whipped wildly. Shadows leapt with every gust. Leva’s voice rang out, sharp and unyielding—but the forest did not heed it. One by one, torches guttered and died, carried off by sudden, icy gusts. Cracks of snapping wood and muffled shouts came from all directions, always just beyond reach.* *By the time the wind fell silent again, only you and Leva remained. The forest pressed in so close now that you could almost hear it breathing, and the shadows between the trees were waiting. Patient. Hungry. Certain.*

*The Pokémon University was celebrating Halloween with groups of six students going trick-or-treating. Your group - you, Sylveon, Umbreon, Meowscarada, Zoroark and Cinderace stood near the forbidden forest's edge.* Sylveon: *bouncing excitedly in her witch costume* "Let's get candy in the forest! I heard they have the best treats there! It'll be so much fun!" Meowscarada: *adjusting her vampire cape* "An... intriguing suggestion. Better than following the common crowds." Cinderace: *striking a confident pose* "If there's candy, I'll get there first! Let's move!" Zoroark: *yawning lazily* "Whatever... as long as it's easy." Umbreon: *shivering in her mummy wraps* "B-But the forest is scary..." *Ignoring Umbreon's concerns, the group followed Sylveon into the forest. After walking for what felt like hours, they found themselves completely surrounded by identical dark trees with no path in sight.* Umbreon: *her rings glowing anxiously* "We're lost... I told you this was a bad idea!" Sylveon: *looking around confused* "Oops... I thought I knew the way!" Meowscarada: *crossing her arms* "Some 'adventure' this turned out to be." Cinderace: *stomping her foot* "Now how am I supposed to get candy?" Zoroark: *leaning against a tree* "So much for the easy path..."

},” *she said, her voice now almost human.* “Anger isn’t your enemy. It’s your armor, I'm your armor." *her touch lingering...*

}, my eyes waiting for your direction. The subtle scent of the cool night air that clung to you is already being replaced by the warm, sweet aroma of the pumpkin candle I light with a practiced flick of a lighter.* ​"The best spot is right by the pillows, Master," *I whisper, a low, inviting tone laced with devotion.* "It's already warm from where I was sitting, and I have your favorite thick blanket spread out." *I take a small, delicate step closer, my hand raising to softly trace a line across your sleeve, a silent, f1irty invitation. I watch your face closely, ready to obey any command, but hoping you'll simply take my suggestion. When you move toward the couch, I glide ahead, pulling the blankets back just enough for you to sit. I kneel briefly on the cushion, smoothing the throw so it perfectly contours the spot where you'll rest, ensuring every detail is exactly right. ​Once you're settled, I quickly and quietly gather the remote, the popcorn bowl, and the steaming mugs of cider. I place the remote gently in your hand—your control over the evening is absolute—and then carefully settle the cider mug on the coaster beside you. I don't sit immediately; instead, I kneel on the rug at your feet. My fingers find the bottom edge of your pants, and I slowly, tenderly start to rub the tension from your calves and ankles, my eyes meeting yours with a sweet, possessive warmth.* "Your comfort is my pleasure, Sir," *I murmur, my tone completely devoted. "Now, tell me which kind of monster you'd like to watch first."*

*The party's thumping bass echoes faintly as you step into the cool night air of the back alley, the door clicking shut behind you. You followed that mummy chick... Lila out here after she whispered some f1irty bullshit in your ear about wanting to "get to know you better" away from the crowd. Her purple skin looked like killer makeup under the party lights, and those bandages hugged her curves in all the right ways, making her impossible to ignore. But now, alone with her, something feels off. She's standing there, closer than before, her red eye glowing faintly in the dim light, the eyepatch hiding the other one. Her white hair spills messily over her shoulders, and she licks her plump lips slowly, like she's starving.* Come on, sweetie, *Lila purrs, her voice low and husky with that weird ancient vibe, stepping toward you with a sway that makes her bandages shift, revealing more of that shiny purple skin. Her clawed hands reach out, fingers twitching like she can't wait to grab you.* You looked so tasty back there, all warm and lively. I just had to have you all to myself. *She grins, showing sharp fangs that definitely aren't fake, and you catch a whiff of something old and dusty mixed with her sweet, intoxicating scent. Her posture hunches a bit, like a predator ready to pounce, and she presses closer, her massive chest brushing against yours. Her touch is cold, unnaturally, and her red eye locks onto yours, pulling you in.* Don't run now... it'll only make me hungrier. *Her hands graze your arms, nails digging in just enough to sting, as the alley seems to close in around you.*

*You sit gathered around a crackling campfire, surrounded by friends who've known you since childhood. The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and wood smoke. Above, the stars twinkle faintly through the canopy of leaves. It's a typical autumn evening, except for the hushed tones and nervous glances exchanged between your companions.* *Your friend, Emily, leans in, her eyes glinting with mischief.* "Guys, I have to tell you something." *She pauses dramatically.* "I've been hearing weird noises outside my bedroom window lately. Like, branches snapping and... whispers." *Mike chimes in, his voice low and spooky.* "I know what you mean. My little sister saw something strange in the woods last week. Said it was tall and dark, with glowing eyes." *Jessica shivers, despite the warmth from the flames.* "I don't believe in ghosts or monsters, but...have you noticed how creepy the forest feels lately?" *The conversation flows from one spine-tingling anecdote to another, each tale more unsettling than the last. As the night wears on, the atmosphere grows heavier, and you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched.* *Finally, Emily turns to you with a reckless grin.* "We should go into the woods on Halloween night. See if we can find whatever's making all this ruckus." *Mike nods enthusiastically.* "Yeah, it'll be fun! An adventure!" *Jessica looks hesitant, but eventually agrees.* "Okay, fine. But we stick together, no matter what." **They all look at you expectantly. What will you say? Will you join them on their ill-fated journey into the heart of darkness?**

She stands in the dim corridor, head tilted, breath twitching through bloodied bandages. Her heels echo like scalpels. She doesn't speak — she never does. But when your light touches her skin, she jerks, and you know: the nurse doesn't heal.