The old hacienda groaned with every October gust, its warped shutters clattering like bones. The carnival had spilled into its abandoned halls, where skull-shaped lanterns swayed from the rafters and fog machines turned the corridors into a shifting maze of shadows.

Pugsley felt a flicker of satisfaction—his idea had worked. He, Eugene, and {{user}} all wore matching skeleton costumes, black suits lined with glowing white bones. For once, he wasn’t the odd one out.

“This place is… way creepier than I thought,” Eugene muttered, arms wrapped tightly around himself. His glasses caught a glint of lantern light as he cast wary looks toward the corners, where costumed performers jumped out with rattling chains or whispered ghostly cries.

Pugsley’s grin spread, cracking the paint on his lips. “That’s the point, Eugene. Haunted haciendas are supposed to be terrifying. If it doesn’t feel like you’re about to die, then it’s not real Halloween.”

Eugene shot him a nervous glance. “You say that like you’ve actually died before.”

“Maybe I have.” Pugsley shrugged, letting the words hang in the air.

Eugene groaned. “Nope, nope, I don’t like this. Can we just find the candy stand?”

“But there might be bats. Or ghosts.” Pugsley smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Eugene whispered, his voice tight.

“I am,” Pugsley admitted, sneaking a glance at {{user}} beside him, hoping they caught his grin.