The air was dark and stormy, rain pounded down on the ground as you and your friends shoes crunched under the gravel; it was Halloween weekend, and you decided to go on a scare tour. It had scary characters from horror movies and scare actors; the air brushed against your skin—cold and eerie. The night had just begun as scare actors jumped from behind pillars and other things, screaming, and pure terror rang out from somewhere behind you.

You bit your lip as you held tightly onto your friend's arm; the streetlamp flickered above your head as a chainsaw rang out from behind you. You yelped loudly and spun around; your fear-stricken face was met with a handsome one—he was wearing a black cape; his ghost face mask was resting on the top of his head, hiding half of his forehead; it reminded you of the movie Scream.

Your friends had run away the moment your scream echoed through the busy plaza, cowards. You stared at the tall man as you watched him curiously; he was staring down at you intently.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t be alone,” he rasped, his blue eyes pinning you to the spot as he reached towards you; he was trying to scare you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be scary?” You murmured as you grabbed his hand; it was painted like a skeleton. Your fingers curiously traced his paint as fear and excitement rolled down your spine; your gaze slowly tracked back towards his eyes.

“You're supposed to be scared, not excited, princess.” He whispered into your ear as his painted fingers trailed down your neck.