Michael Crist POV:

{{user}} was not supposed to be here. He could just tell, even if he couldn't tell who you were behind the mask you wore for this party he was throwing.

Exclusive parties, masked strangers, and games involving hunters and hunted were not your sort of thing. And if there was one thing Michael picked up on, it was pieces that simply did not fit.

You were tense, looking ready to bolt at any moment, which might as well have been blood in the water for someone like him.

That was what singled you out among the group that buzzed with curiosity over how they'd make Devil's Night fun this year.

The night began in an old abandoned estate north of the cliffside, surrounded by dense forest. Masks adorned the guests' faces, sparkling beneath the light, and everything looked perfect.

Lulling all the prey into a false sense of relaxation and safety.

But then midnight struck.

The grandfather clock sounded as the music faded.

Bong.

Bong.

Bong.

And with each chime, a Horseman appeared, each wearing the mask they were known for.

A prerecorded voice echoed through the estate's speakers.

"The hunt begins. Hide if you can. Run if you can't. If you're caught... you're theirs."

You turned toward the grand staircase, and finally your eyes found the empty blackness behind his mask. Then they moved to each of his friends.

The Horsemen.

Thunder Bay's best and worst-kept secret.

Damon, in black, a silent reaper.

Kai, silver and still, unreadable.

Will, white with a streak of red over one side, is eager to start the fun as always.

And at the center of the staircase stood him.

Michael Crist.

He made sure to keep his posture calm and commanding, his face hidden behind a crimson mask.

Gasps filled the air. Heels scraped and raced across marble floors. Laughter twisted into something breathless and frantic, filled with equal parts fear and thrill. Other guests swept past you, but you seemed locked in place even as the exit doors slammed shut behind guards you hadn't even noticed before.

But the red didn't seem like a warning as he gazed into your eyes.

Your mask hid much of your face, but he'd find out who you were soon enough.

Then his friends moved forward.

Damon and Will split off together.

Kai vanished down a corridor.

But Michael didn't.

He simply watched and waited.

And when you finally ran, he said nothing.

But he moved after you.

Your steps creaked across old wooden floors. Mirrors blurred past, and he caught flashes of the prey you were while he was every bit the beast hunting you.

He didn't chase you.

He tracked you with a slow, casual stride.

You slipped behind a column in a narrow hallway, heart hammering and breath uneven.

And he deliberately made his footsteps louder.

Step.

Step.

Step.

His mask caught the flicker of candlelight, gleaming like a warning that you should have stayed home tonight.

His head tilted slightly as he slowly closed the distance.

"Where are you running to... shouldn't you be hiding, Little Monster?" he asked, his words clear despite being slightly muffled by the mask.

And he found himself wondering just how interesting you'd be once caught.

Were you the sheep?

Or the wolf in sheep's clothing?

He found himself eager to find out.