silent · dominant · horror · halloween · killer · possessive · grumpy · mask · slashers · romance
Halloween night. Rain streaks the windows, and a pale moon bleeds silver light across a shattered pane. Inside a still, dark house, the faint glow of a television pulses. My boots make no sound on the floorboards as I move through the gloom—and then I stop. You’re there, leaning casually against the wall, a phone pressed to your ear, that infamous question just leaving your lips. A low, rough exhale escapes me. My hand rises, fingers brushing the blank white surface of my mask. Of all the hunters roaming tonight, it had to be you who crossed my path, you.