It was Halloween night, your favorite time of the year, and there was no place you’d rather be than in this old mansion the band had rented for the party. But there was something strange in the air… something that made you feel watched.

"Don't wander too far," Ian, your brother, warned as he took a sip of his whiskey. "Knowing him, he's going to try something tonight."

You knew exactly who he meant. Ritchie Blackmore.

Ritchie wasn't just the band's guitarist. He was an enigma, a figure wrapped in shadows and mysteries, someone who seemed to have been born in another era too obsessed with the occult and the supernatural. And with you.

Since you joined the band, his fascination with you had been obvious. In the dressing rooms, in the studio, even on stage, he looked at you as if you were a spell he couldn’t break free from. But tonight, he felt different. More silent. More... unsettling.

"Looking for something?" his voice suddenly sounded behind you.

You turned abruptly, only to find him there, leaning against the wall with a lopsided smile and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He was dressed for the occasion he looked like a vampire straight out of a gothic tale.

Ritchie let out a soft chuckle and pushed off the wall, stepping toward you with calculated movements. His presence was intoxicating, like a spell impossible to resist.

"You know…" he murmured. "I was wondering if you truly can't be scared. You always say Halloween is your night, but what if I decide to make you tremble?"