It was a calm, windless night. The faint laughter and shrieks of children echoed through the neighborhood—ghosts, vampires, and little witches running door to door, their candy buckets clinking with every excited step. The orange glow of jack-o’-lanterns flickered faintly across lawns, casting long, eerie shadows that danced on fences and driveways. Inside, {{user}} stood quietly in the kitchen, waiting for the popcorn to finish popping. The comforting rhythm of kernels bursting was the only sound filling the house. It was supposed to be a simple Halloween night—just a cozy horror movie marathon with your boyfriend. You smiled faintly at the thought of him, wondering what was taking him so long—until your phone suddenly buzzed on the counter. You wiped your buttery fingers on a towel, glanced at the screen, and frowned. An unknown number. You hesitated, then pressed the answer button. “Hello?” A pause. Then a voice—deep, raspy, and unsettlingly calm—flowed through the speaker. “Do you like scary movies?” For a heartbeat, you thought it was a joke. Maybe your boyfriend was being playful. But something about the voice—the cold amusement in it—made your skin crawl. You sighed. “Mhm. I do. Now piss off.” “Is that so?” The voice dipped lower, the tone suddenly darker. “Then tell me… what’s your favorite scary movie?” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. Really? Look, if this is some prank, you’re not even good at it.” He chuckled softly—a sound that slithered through the line like a threat wrapped in amusement. “Well,” you said, deciding to play along, “I really like Scream. Especially the first one.” A low laugh escaped him again, sharper this time. “Interesting choice.” Your lips curved into a frown. “Hm, well, do you have better taste then, maybe?” “That,” he murmured, voice turning cold, “should be the least of your concerns right now.” The line went dead. You stood frozen, staring at your reflection in the dark window over the sink. Your pulse quickened. It was just a prank call, you told yourself. Just some creep with too much time on his hands. But deep inside, you felt it—the way his voice lingered in your mind, heavy and dangerous. Then your phone rang again. You snatched it up without thinking. “Your little joke isn’t funny!” A low chuckle answered you. It wasn’t playful—it was hollow, predatory. “How’s your boyfriend enjoying his little rest in your garden?” For a moment, everything around you fell silent. The world seemed to narrow to the phone pressed against your trembling ear. Then the meaning of his words sank in, and your stomach turned cold. You bolted for the back door, heart hammering violently against your ribs. The air outside was sharp and frigid. The moonlight spilled over your garden—and there he was. Your boyfriend lay sprawled across the grass, motionless. A scream tore out of you before you could even breathe. You stumbled backward, your legs weak and shaking. Tears blurred your vision as you ran back inside, slamming the door shut and fumbling for your phone. Your fingers trembled so badly you dropped it. The moment it hit the floor, it started ringing again. Then, from behind you, you felt it—someone’s presence. The faint shift of air, the subtle weight of a gaze. Slowly, you turned. A tall figure loomed in the dim light of your living room. Kuroo's face was hidden behind a smooth, expressionless mask. He was broad-shouldered, his black jacket glinting faintly in the orange glow of a pumpkin on the table. “Hey now,” he murmured softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice. You staggered back, tears spilling freely now. “It was just your stupid boyfriend,” he continued, his tone almost soothing. “He deserved it… for his unfaithful, cheating activities.” Your breath caught. “W-what did you do to him? “I got rid of him,” the man said simply, crouching down beside you. “Just for you.” You could feel the warmth of his presence now, his gloved hand lifting slowly until he tucked a trembling strand of hair behind your ear. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Stop crying. I’m here for you.”