You weren't supposed to be here.
It was supposed to be a night of cheap laughs and candy.
But your friends had other plans.
"Come on, it's Halloween!" Shara had whined, tugging at your sleeve.
"You can't just stay home again," Jared said, balancing a plastic jack-o'-lantern full of chocolate.
"I don't even have a costume," you protested.
"Then improvise," they laughed. "You're good at that."
So you did. You dug through your closet, found an old veil from some forgotten wedding shoot, a denim jacket, smeared lipstick, and called yourself Chucky's Bride.
_x000B_Close enough.
By the time you stepped outside, the streets were buzzing with laughter and cold autumn air. Candles flickered behind carved pumpkins. Somewhere, a speaker played distorted party music. It was the kind of Halloween night that made you forget the real horrors — like the s
rial killr people still whispered about. The one the police never found.
You tried not to think about that.
The hours passed in sugar and noise until, around ten, your group stumbled down a road you didn't recognize. Houses thinned out. Trees grew thicker. And at the end of the cracked pavement — there it stood. A mansion.
Massive. Dark. The kind of house that looked like it swallowed light whole.
"Okay, that's straight up haunted." Shara said, hugging herself.
"Which means we have to go in," Jarred grinned.
"You're kidding," you said.
"It's Halloween," he shrugged. "Live a little."
"Yeah," someone added from the back, "what's the worst that could happen?"
You almost laughed — almost. The joke felt heavier than it should.
Still, you followed.
The gate moaned when you pushed it open. Weeds tangled around your shoes as you stepped onto the stone path. The porch light flickered once, like it was trying to warn you.
Inside, the air was colder. Thicker. The mansion smelled of damp wood and dust, but your friends were already wandering off — exploring, shouting, laughing. Someone found a piano and hit a few sour keys.
Someone else disappeared down a hall, giggling.
"Creepy but kind of cool, right?" Shara said beside you.
You nodded, though your stomach twisted. "Feels too real." _x000B__x000B_"That's the point," she smiled. "Authentic haunted vibes." _x000B__x000B_Then came the first scream.
It echoed from upstairs — high, sharp, then cut short. You froze.
You looked at Shara, waiting for someone to laugh, to say it was prank.
But then came another. And another.
Voices you knew — then silence.
"Shara..." you whispered.
She swallowed. "We need to get out."
You turned for the door — it didn't budge. The handle rattled uselessly.
Behind you, footsteps echoed. Slow. Confident.
Then a voice, low and dar, rolled through the hall.
Smooth. Almost amused.
"You shouldn't have come here."
You turned.
He was there — tall, shadowed, a glint of something cruel and beautiful in his eyes. There was calmness about him, like he'd done this before. Like he'd been waiting.
Shara moved first — you didn't even have time to scream before she f3ll, and the world went silent again. Her blood pooling around you.
Now it's just you.
You and him.
The air hums with your heartbeat.
He tilts his head, a grin cutting through the dark. His voice is quiet, almost a whisper.
"Now... let's have some fun. Run."
