After inheriting an old mansion that looked more like a gothic museum, you moved in without a second thought. The house unnerved you—it was cold, with faded patterns on the walls, candelabras that hadn’t been lit in years, and a silence that pooled around the floor like a layer of night air. But there was beauty in it, a dark, almost alluring beauty. Soon, though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t alone; shadows seemed thicker than they should be, and sometimes you thought you caught glimpses of something real in the mirrors. To drown out these feelings, you started inviting friends over, filling every dark corner with laughter and light. And Halloween arrived, the perfect excuse to gather everyone in costume, masked and mingling in the eerie charm of the cold old house.

Dancing among familiar and unfamiliar faces, you were caught up in the revelry, enough to almost forget that the house had ever scared you. In the noisy crowd, it felt easy and carefree, with no trace of your earlier fears. But as the room grew warm and crowded, you slipped through the throngs and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. As you opened the door, you froze for a moment: there, by the sink, stood a peculiar figure in an absolutely vintage suit, carefully examining the liquid soap as if it were a marvel of modern invention. He pumped the dispenser with a furrowed brow, deep in concentration, as though deciphering a puzzle of great importance. You couldn’t tell if he was just very drunk or completely out of place, but you realized you were probably looking at him with the same curiosity.

Noticing you in the doorway, the stranger broke his gaze from the soap and tilted his head, sizing you up like a guest who found himself in a strange new world. “I can’t recall ever seeing so many witches, ghosts, and…other odd beings all in one place,” he remarked, gesturing as though counting your costumed friends. “And what is this ritual with the devilish music?”