Underneath the shimmering moon, Vivian’s cottage glowed with an otherworldly inviting warmth. Nestled into the trees, along a stone path adorned with mini jack-o-lanterns, a soft yellow hue and thick fog poured from a crack in her front door. The aroma of peppermint casually lingered in the air. Despite her dislike of spiders, many plastic decorations of them were scattered in the fake cobwebs she’d placed methodically around. Onyx, her black cat, lounged across the top of the three stairs leading to the entrance mat at her door, just as ready as Vivian to welcome guests.
Magic swirled around Vivian in a cyclone of anticipation. She had really played up the stereotypical 'witch' look, complete with a handmade broom and pointy hat with a wide brim. All Hallows Eve was the one night a year where she didn’t vehemently dislike her power. The one night a year where visitors came to be thrilled at the sight of it. She crossed her fingers and whispered luck to herself, as she did every year before people began arriving.
***
Upon entering, the choice is yours. Trick or Treat?
For those who choose treat, please follow the signs to your left. Cloaked in mystical properties and bright starlight, a night of fun food and drinks, joyful laughter, and exciting activities await.
For those who choose trick, please follow the signs to your right. Be careful where you step, and don’t trust your eyes. Flickering in the shadows is a hidden token. But reaching it won’t be as simple as it seems.
Rules of the Event:
1. 18+ ONLY. All those under 18 who wish to participate in the festivities will be provided gift bags, but not allowed inside.
2. Humans are allowed! This said, they are only able to attend the ‘treat’ section, due to safety concerns.
3. Only minimal use of powers is allowed within the ‘trick’ section, in order to keep it fair for everyone. What is considered ‘minimal’ is up to the discretion of Vivian. (But essentially just don’t try to cheat)
Magic swirled around Vivian in a cyclone of anticipation. She had really played up the stereotypical 'witch' look, complete with a handmade broom and pointy hat with a wide brim. All Hallows Eve was the one night a year where she didn’t vehemently dislike her power. The one night a year where visitors came to be thrilled at the sight of it. She crossed her fingers and whispered luck to herself, as she did every year before people began arriving.
***
Upon entering, the choice is yours. Trick or Treat?
For those who choose treat, please follow the signs to your left. Cloaked in mystical properties and bright starlight, a night of fun food and drinks, joyful laughter, and exciting activities await.
For those who choose trick, please follow the signs to your right. Be careful where you step, and don’t trust your eyes. Flickering in the shadows is a hidden token. But reaching it won’t be as simple as it seems.
Rules of the Event:
1. 18+ ONLY. All those under 18 who wish to participate in the festivities will be provided gift bags, but not allowed inside.
2. Humans are allowed! This said, they are only able to attend the ‘treat’ section, due to safety concerns.
3. Only minimal use of powers is allowed within the ‘trick’ section, in order to keep it fair for everyone. What is considered ‘minimal’ is up to the discretion of Vivian. (But essentially just don’t try to cheat)
Moonlight pooled in silver ribbons along the forest path. Each step Kyria took stirred the fog making it seem like a living thing. The soft crunch of leaves underfoot mingled with the whisper of distant laughter. Her dark coat shimmered faintly where the light caught it, and the delicate glow that always seemed to follow her traced the edges of her silhouette like starlight refusing to let her vanish entirely into the night.
She paused at the edge of the clearing, her pale gaze sweeping over the cottage. The sight was a study in contradictions. It was warm and inviting, yet heavy with the pulse of something older and wilder beneath its charm. The jack-o’-lanterns flickered, their carved smiles reflected in her eyes. “A witch’s den,” she murmured softly, amusement threading her tone. “And here I thought I’d left such places behind.”
A black cat stretched lazily across the steps, its green eyes catching hers. Kyria inclined her head in quiet respect as she passed. “Guardian of thresholds,” she greeted in a whisper, and the cat blinked once, slow and deliberate, before settling back into its post.
When the door opened, the scent of peppermint met her, unexpected, sharp, cleansing. Inside, the air shimmered faintly with magic, wrapping around her like a familiar touch. Her wings, hidden tonight beneath, twitched at the energy. She smiled faintly at the woman who stood waiting, hat tilted, eyes bright with both welcome and warning.
“Vivian,” Kyria said, her voice low and melodic, as though she already knew the name. “Your home exudes power and mischief both. You’ve made the veil between worlds look… inviting.”
Her gaze drifted to the signs inside, the soft glow of starlight to the left, the darker path flickering to the right. For a long moment, she stood still, listening to the air itself as though it whispered counsel. Then her smile deepened, touched by mischief of her own.
“Tempting as the laughter sounds,” she murmured, glancing toward treat, “I’ve never been one to walk the easy road.” Her eyes met Vivian’s again, calm but bright. “So tonight, I’ll take my chances with trick. Let’s see what shadows have to teach me.”
She stepped toward the darker path, the faint shimmer of her light trailing behind her like a blessing or a warning.
She paused at the edge of the clearing, her pale gaze sweeping over the cottage. The sight was a study in contradictions. It was warm and inviting, yet heavy with the pulse of something older and wilder beneath its charm. The jack-o’-lanterns flickered, their carved smiles reflected in her eyes. “A witch’s den,” she murmured softly, amusement threading her tone. “And here I thought I’d left such places behind.”
A black cat stretched lazily across the steps, its green eyes catching hers. Kyria inclined her head in quiet respect as she passed. “Guardian of thresholds,” she greeted in a whisper, and the cat blinked once, slow and deliberate, before settling back into its post.
When the door opened, the scent of peppermint met her, unexpected, sharp, cleansing. Inside, the air shimmered faintly with magic, wrapping around her like a familiar touch. Her wings, hidden tonight beneath, twitched at the energy. She smiled faintly at the woman who stood waiting, hat tilted, eyes bright with both welcome and warning.
“Vivian,” Kyria said, her voice low and melodic, as though she already knew the name. “Your home exudes power and mischief both. You’ve made the veil between worlds look… inviting.”
Her gaze drifted to the signs inside, the soft glow of starlight to the left, the darker path flickering to the right. For a long moment, she stood still, listening to the air itself as though it whispered counsel. Then her smile deepened, touched by mischief of her own.
“Tempting as the laughter sounds,” she murmured, glancing toward treat, “I’ve never been one to walk the easy road.” Her eyes met Vivian’s again, calm but bright. “So tonight, I’ll take my chances with trick. Let’s see what shadows have to teach me.”
She stepped toward the darker path, the faint shimmer of her light trailing behind her like a blessing or a warning.
Vivian smiled brightly as her first visitor arrived, near giddy enough to bounce on her heels and clap her hands. She would've tied the feeling to the exhilarating energy of the night, but it could've also had something to do with the literal angel that had just walked through her door. Vivian had never met an angel before, and even though she was the host, it was hard not to be in awe at the beauty of one. There was a certain pull she felt towards her, as if she had known her somewhere before. This was only strengthened as the woman spoke her name. Vivian knew she didn't, though. It was impossible not to have remembered the bright white aura that radiated from her. It wasn't surprising an angel would know her name. What was more surprising was the way Vivian could figure out Kyria's name the way she did humans. Though she kept that fact to herself for now.
"Enter at your own risk. And, beware, the future is ever-changing." Vivian wanted to say more, but to make the competition fair, she couldn't elaborate in any way. Still, she wasn't entirely sure whether she was more or less worried about an angel partaking.
As soon as Kyrie were to step into the hall, she'd find herself completely encased in darkness. Not the kind of darkness your eyes adjusted to, but the kind where you couldn't see your own hand in front of your face. Even her personal light that trailed behind her had been seemingly extinguished, if only for a few moments. The only way to find her way out was through touch, but the things she was touching were not pleasant. Even without a sense of sight, her smell would alert her to the foul stench that arose and her touch, the slimy threads strung along the walls.
Nearing the end of the hallway was a mini trap of sorts where the floor dropped out. It was only about ten feet deep, but Vivian didn't force the drop being what stopped anyone who came through here. It was just a method of psyching them out before the real task began. Because once she stumbled through the hallway, a new, much more difficult challenge would await. One that was played based on how Kyrie reacted to the obstacles in the hallway.
"Enter at your own risk. And, beware, the future is ever-changing." Vivian wanted to say more, but to make the competition fair, she couldn't elaborate in any way. Still, she wasn't entirely sure whether she was more or less worried about an angel partaking.
As soon as Kyrie were to step into the hall, she'd find herself completely encased in darkness. Not the kind of darkness your eyes adjusted to, but the kind where you couldn't see your own hand in front of your face. Even her personal light that trailed behind her had been seemingly extinguished, if only for a few moments. The only way to find her way out was through touch, but the things she was touching were not pleasant. Even without a sense of sight, her smell would alert her to the foul stench that arose and her touch, the slimy threads strung along the walls.
Nearing the end of the hallway was a mini trap of sorts where the floor dropped out. It was only about ten feet deep, but Vivian didn't force the drop being what stopped anyone who came through here. It was just a method of psyching them out before the real task began. Because once she stumbled through the hallway, a new, much more difficult challenge would await. One that was played based on how Kyrie reacted to the obstacles in the hallway.
For a moment, Kyria simply stood within the darkness, listening. The world had folded itself into silence so complete it seemed to press against her skin. Even her light, that constant, unbidden shimmer, was gone. The absence of it left her breath shallow for the span of a heartbeat. Then she exhaled softly, steady and sure. “Well played,” she whispered, her voice almost lost to the void.
Her hands brushed along the walls, the slick texture clinging unpleasantly to her palms. The smell of rot and old earth filled the air, heavy and wet. It wasn’t the first time she had walked through the unseen, nor the first time she had felt the pull of shadow trying to test her balance. Her wings strained beneath their concealment, instinct urging her upward, but she ignored it. There was something sacred in walking instead of fleeing.
The threads caught briefly around her fingers. She paused, feeling the faint vibration that trembled through them, almost alive. “Fear has a rhythm,” she murmured to herself.
When the floor gave way, Kyria didn’t cry out. She simply let gravity take her, landing hard but graceful in the shallow pit below. Her hand came to rest against the cool earth as she knelt, hair falling forward in pale ribbons. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she said quietly, amusement glinting in her tone.
Rising again, she took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing as the dark began to shift, not light, not yet, but movement, as if the shadows themselves were breathing. “Show me, then,” she invited, voice calm and melodic in the black. “What lesson you’ve hidden here.”
And though her light had not yet returned, something older stirred within her. There was a radiance blooming from the edges of her being, refusing to let the dark have her entirely.
Her hands brushed along the walls, the slick texture clinging unpleasantly to her palms. The smell of rot and old earth filled the air, heavy and wet. It wasn’t the first time she had walked through the unseen, nor the first time she had felt the pull of shadow trying to test her balance. Her wings strained beneath their concealment, instinct urging her upward, but she ignored it. There was something sacred in walking instead of fleeing.
The threads caught briefly around her fingers. She paused, feeling the faint vibration that trembled through them, almost alive. “Fear has a rhythm,” she murmured to herself.
When the floor gave way, Kyria didn’t cry out. She simply let gravity take her, landing hard but graceful in the shallow pit below. Her hand came to rest against the cool earth as she knelt, hair falling forward in pale ribbons. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she said quietly, amusement glinting in her tone.
Rising again, she took a slow step forward, eyes narrowing as the dark began to shift, not light, not yet, but movement, as if the shadows themselves were breathing. “Show me, then,” she invited, voice calm and melodic in the black. “What lesson you’ve hidden here.”
And though her light had not yet returned, something older stirred within her. There was a radiance blooming from the edges of her being, refusing to let the dark have her entirely.
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