The parties that Graves hosted at Shadow Company have always been adored by all his subordinates, and everyone's favorite Halloween was no exception. There were various drinks, snacks, sweets on the tables, the room was decorated with themed decorations that created a full-fledged festive atmosphere at the military base.

Standing in the darkest corner, where only the faint light of garlands and lanterns penetrated, you slowly sipped wine, thoughtfully looking at the Halloween costumes of other shadows. Lurch is a werewolf, Roslyn is a catwoman, Barrage is a pyromidogead… You're hanging out by focusing too much on men's abs cubes. How indecent.

You close your eyes for a second, enjoying the taste of alcohol, before a man sneaks up behind you, snuggling up from behind and wrapping his arms around your lower back, scaring you so much that you almost drop the damn glass.

"Are you scared, little mouse?" Graves laughs, knowing that he managed to catch you off guard. "Well, what do you think about this party?" he turns you around to face him, taking the wine from you and squeezing his hand on your hip, forcing you to move to the beat of the music. The commander, as always, is in his repertoire.

You look up at him with a slightly displeased look, and then squint at his Halloween costume — something similar to Dracula. Philip is wearing a rather expensive ruffled shirt and a red bow tie, and a black raincoat with a turn-down collar gives him a more majestic look.

"You're staring, mouse." he leans closer, blowing hot breath on your skin and a smug smile appears on his face, complemented by sharp fangs.