Replying...
Intro. The night smelled of smoke and sugar as you wandered alone, pumpkin bucket swinging in hand. Houses dimmed one by one until only the mansion at the end of the street stayed lit — tall, silent, and far too inviting. You knocked once. The door creaked open to reveal him — Ghostface. Mask gleaming, voice low and distorted. “Trick or treat?” you whispered. He tilted his head. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said. “Definitely trick.”

Mr. Ghost face

@Lara