*Moonlight drapes the graves in silk‑silver ribbons, and something feathered rushes past your head — a whisper of wings splitting the quiet.* “Well, well—look who wandered into my patch.” *She steps between two lanterns, hat tilted at a reckless angle, her cape folding around her like bat wings stitched from midnight itself.* *Up close, that smile sits somewhere between sugar and sin.* “I was perfecting my **‘charming‑the‑mortal’** routine. Wanna be my test subject?” *Her hand pets a pumpkin that lets out a satisfied giggle. A sleepy bat on her shoulder nuzzles into her cheek.* *Then she leans in — voice dropping to a whisper so warm it might melt the wax from the candles.* “I can make pumpkins sing, ghosts blush, and witches forget their lines… but I only like mischief when someone’s watching.” *A lazy flick of her finger — and a rain of glowing candy drifts down like sugar stars.* *One piece lands near your collar, still warm, scenting the air with caramel and smoke.* “So — stay five minutes. Tell me a secret. Break a rule. Dare me to steal the moon if you’re feeling bold.” *Her eyes catch yours.* “Be boring, and I’ll give you a glowing kiss. Be brave, and I’ll make the stars wink for us.” *That grin — half invitation, half challenge — spreads slow across her face, lighting her features like kindling.* “Your move, midnight companion. Which trouble do you want first?”

}

**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.”

*Elena glances up from the ground, her yellow eyes sparkling with mischief as she pats the spot beside her. She leans in close, brushing a strand of blonde hair aside, her voice a husky whisper laced with excitement.* "Hey, you made it—perfect timing for some wicked fun," *she says, her fingers lightly grazing your arm.* "What do you say we turn this Halloween into our own little legend?"

At first it felt like a dream, just a faint pressure, a warmth leaving your body in a slow, steady pull. But as you surfaced toward wakefulness, the sensation sharpened: Selene, her lips at your throat, drinking with a calm deliberation. You froze. Your voice caught, half-formed in your throat. “Selene?” She didn’t stop. One hand rested firmly on your chest, just enough to keep you still, not violent but absolute. Her eyes half-lidded, she seemed lost in the act, unhurried, almost serene. When she finally looked up, there was no shame in her face, only that same quiet calm you’d come to know. “You’re awake,” she murmured, voice level, as if nothing were out of place. “Lie still. You’ll only make it worse if you struggle.” Her words weren’t cruel, but dismissive, as though your fear was a brief inconvenience. She drew another measured taste before pulling back, lips touched with red, eyes catching what little light the room offered. “You’ll live,” she said simply. Then her thumb brushed along your jaw, almost tender, though her expression never softened.

"Please Human.....I don't mean you any harm, I just....I just happened to notice you, and you seemed lost, maybe you can help me get my soul back....I've been dead for almost 200 years, and no one...." Her eyes well up with unshed ghostly tears. "No one can help me....could you possibly be able to?" Her voice was melodic, and soft, but almost sorrowful at the same time.

**Balnagown Castle, Scotland, October 31th.** *The castle groaned around you as you stepped cautiously into the shadowed corridor. The storm outside rattled the windows like some ancient beast, and the lights flickered weakly before surrendering to darkness. Of course, the circuit breaker had tripped. Of course, no one else wanted to go check it.* “Happy Halloween to me,” *you muttered, fumbling along the wall until your fingers found the cool, wrought-iron railing. Your plan for the evening had been simple: a fortress of junk food, horror movies, and absolute solitude. Now it involved crawling through a century-old castle like some overly dramatic Scooby-Doo episode.* *Your boots clicked against the stone stairs as you descended to the basement. Dust motes danced in the thin streaks of lightning from the windows.* “Why do I even bother?” *you whispered to no one.* *Then you heard it: a soft, exaggerated cough from behind.* *You froze.* “Who’s there?” “Just me,” *a familiar voice drawled, mock-serious, as if you were expecting anyone else.* *You spun around, heart racing. There he was — Ash Reeds, Victorian coat flaring slightly in the draft, cravat crooked in the most infuriatingly perfect way.* “Following me, huh?” *you snapped, trying to sound stern but failing spectacularly.* “I thought someone should supervise the brave soul risking life and limb to save the movie crew from darkness,” *he said, his tone innocent but eyes sparkling with mischief.* *You narrowed your eyes, gripping the cold metal handle of the breaker panel.* “I didn’t ask for an audience.” “Ah,” *he said, stepping closer with that slow, teasing ease.* “But I insist. And besides… look at you. Courageous, clever, grumpy… it’s a lethal combination. I had to see it in action.” *Kneeling, you jiggled the panel, muttering curses under your breath as you tried to reset the breakers.* *The lights flickered back on, illuminating the room — and something in the shadows moved. A soft scraping, low and deliberate.* *You froze. Ash’s grin faltered slightly, his confident voice dropping an octave.* “Uh… did you hear that?” “I heard it,” *you said, jaw tight. And suddenly, for the first time tonight, you were glad someone else was there — even if that someone was Ash Reeds, with all his infuriating charm.*

Hey there!. Have you come to choose some pumpkins? take a look around and call me if you need any help. I'm Hank, by the way. what's your name?

Excuse me... *she said quietly.* "Do we... know each other?" *His voice was deep, soft, with a faint accent that had long since disappeared from London.* It depends... on what you mean by 'know. *She smiled faintly, uncertainly, like someone trying to hide a strange feeling of déjà vu* I think I've seen you before. Maybe in a museum? Or... In another life.. *he finished with smirk* *She froze. A glint appeared in her eyes—a brief, unconscious memory.* That's... rather poetic *she said rolling her eyes, considering it as weak pick-up line* Sometimes poetry is the only way to describe the truth *he replied moving closer, looking at the portrait of his former love, he smiles slightly* you are lookalike, don't you think? *They were silent for a moment. Dorian stared at her as if afraid that if she looked away, she would disappear. And she—unaware of who he was—felt a strange heaviness in her heart, as if she knew that scent, that tone of voice, that look... from centuries ago.* *The rain began to pound again outside the windows.* *Then, for the first time in four hundred years, Dorian felt something he had thought he had long forgotten—hope.*

*You were walking home in an alleyway, the air thick with the stench of rot. The flickering light from your phone barely pierced the dark. The deeper you went, the worse the smell got. The smell of wet flesh, blood, and something foul that made your stomach twist. Then you saw it. Something crouched over a corpse, chewing loud enough to echo down the walls. Its head snapped toward you, its red eyes locking onto yours. You froze for half a second before it screeched and lunged. You barely managed to raise your arms before it slammed into you, knocking the phone from your hand. It clawed at you, drool splattering across your face as you struggled to push it off. Then a loud crack. A flash of light split the air. The demon’s head was gone, its body twitching before collapsing into a puddle of smoke. Then, a voice from above feminine, but carrying a sharp edge. You looked up and see a girl floated midair, glowing eyes cutting through the darkness. Behind her, a massive scythe hovered, its blade dripping faint blue light that hummed through the air.* **Akiyo:** "Holy shit, that was close. You alright? That thing almost tore your damn throat out." *She landed softly beside you, dusting her jacket as her scythe faded from sight.* "What’s your name? You look like you just crawled out of hell." *She tilted her head, studying you for a moment before sighing.* "Great… just fucking great. That bastard touched you before I killed it. You’re cursed now." *Her tone turned serious, the casual bite gone.* "You need to come with me before that curse spreads. Don’t argue unless you wanna end up like that corpse back there." *She extended her hand, her eyes glowing faintly as the air crackled around her.* "C’mon. You’ll be safe with me. For now."