THE MASQUERADE HUNTS AT MIDNIGHT

I woke up to calm waltz music. Violins first, then a cello underneath, slow and polite, the kind of music you hear at a wedding right before somebody's uncle gets drunk. My cheek was pressed against something cold and hard. Marble. I pushed myself up on my palms, and the floor shone back at me, so clean I could see the blurry shape of my own face in it. I didn't look for long. I don't know why. Something inside me just said don't. I stood up slowly. My legs felt borrowed. I was wearing a long dress I had never seen before, heavy, with a hem that dragged behind me like it had somewhere better to be. Something was resting on my face. I touched it. A mask, smooth and cold, tied behind my head with a ribbon. Everyone around me was waltzing, but something didn't feel right. The smiles were too wide for a normal human being. Maybe it was just a costume. Or maybe not. A woman spun past me in a green gown, and her smile stretched so far up her cheeks that I could see the edge of it, where the mask ended and something else began. Her partner wore horns. Real ones, curved and rigid, growing out of his hair instead of sitting on top of it. I took a step back. My heel clicked. Not one of them turned to look. [DING!] [INITIALIZING SURVIVAL SYSTEM…] [CONNECTING TO PLAYER…] [CONNECTION SUCCESSFUL.] Welcome, Player Sera Vale. You have been selected as a participant in THE LAST DANCE. Your current location: The Hollow Manor. Your current status: Alive. Your survival rating: Undetermined. [MAIN OBJECTIVE UNLOCKED] Survive the manor. [BEGINNER MISSION: THE FIRST DANCE] • Participate in the opening dance.
• Do not refuse an invitation.
• Do not dance with the same guest twice.
• Do not remove your mask. Mission duration: Until the first bell rings. Mission rewards: • 100 Survival Points.
• 1 Beginner's Protection Card. Failure penalty: Immediate elimination. [WARNING!] Players are reminded that the manor operates under its own rules. The system is not responsible for deaths resulting from player negligence. [GOOD LUCK, PLAYER.] We hope you enjoy your stay. The words hung in the air in front of my eyes, glowing pale blue, and when I blinked they didn't go away. Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Ahhh, a system? A system? I read about this stuff. I didn't think it actually happened to people. How am I supposed to survive this place? And everyone has a dance partner. How will I dance? I pressed my hands against my mouth to keep from screaming. Immediate elimination. I didn't need anyone to explain what that meant. Then the music stopped. All of it, at once, like someone had cut the throat of the orchestra. The dancers froze mid-step, and for a second the whole ballroom was a painting of people. A voice slid out of the ceiling, soft and warm, like a grandmother reading a bedtime story. WELCOME TO THE HOLLOW MANOR, DEAR GUESTS. Before the evening festivities begin, there are five rules every guest must obey. RULE ONE:
Never look into the mirrors. RULE TWO:
Never answer when your name is called, even if the voice sounds familiar. RULE THREE:
Never use anything purple in the game. RULE FOUR:
Guests must never look under the table, no matter what happens. RULE FIVE:
Never dance with the monsters when the moon turns red. Remember, dear guests, these rules are not suggestions. Those who follow them may live long enough to see another evening. Those who break them… Well, we do hope you enjoy your stay. The music started again as if nothing had happened. The dancers picked up their steps in the same place they'd left off. I looked up for the mirrors. I should have known better than to look up for them, but I needed to know where they were so I could avoid them. They covered the whole east wall, tall and gold-framed, taller than any mirror should be, and they reflected the room perfectly. Except for one detail. In the glass, nobody was wearing a mask. I looked away so fast my neck hurt. Something moved at the edge of my eye. The woman in the green gown had slipped out of her partner's arms. She walked toward the mirrors with her head tilted like she was listening to something. Her partner didn't stop dancing. He kept turning in place with his arms around nothing. Don't, I thought. Don't, don't, don't. She stopped in front of the glass and looked up. I didn't see her face. I saw her reflection's face, and it was smiling the same wide smile she'd had all night, only now it was the real one, with nothing hiding it. The real her stood perfectly still. The reflection raised one hand and pressed it flat against the glass from the inside. The music hit a high note. When it came back down, the woman was gone, and the glass was clean, and her dancing partner had already found someone new. Nobody screamed. Nobody even slowed down. My knees wanted to fold. I locked them. Okay. Okay, the rules were real. That was one thing I knew now. Nothing else, but that. What? Good God. How do I find a partner? What do I do? Okay. Look. Someone is not dancing. Let me go dance with him. He stood alone near the far pillar, outside the circle of light from the chandeliers, a tall shape in black with his hands folded behind his back. Everyone else danced. He watched. He didn't seem like someone waiting for a partner. He seemed like someone waiting for something to go wrong. I walked straight toward him before I could talk myself out of it. My heart was beating so loud I was sure the whole ballroom could hear it. "Excuse me, sir," I said, and my voice came out smaller than I wanted. "Can I have this dance?" He turned. His mask was black and plain, with a line of gold along the edge, and behind it his eyes looked at me for a very long time. Long enough for me to wonder if I'd already broken a rule I didn't know about. "Nobody asks me," he said finally. His voice was low and a little rough, like he hadn't used it in a while. "Then it's your lucky night," I said, because apparently fear made me stupid. Something moved at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. He held out his hand, palm up, and I put mine in it. His skin was cold. Not cold like a person who'd been standing outside. Cold like stone that had never been in the sun. He drew me into the dance, one hand at my back, and he smelled like rain and burnt sugar and something underneath that I couldn't name. We moved together. I'd never waltzed in my life, but my feet knew where to go, as if the dress and the floor had agreed to carry me. "You're new," he said, close to my ear. "How can you tell?" "You're the only one here who is afraid." I almost laughed. It came out as a breath. "Everyone else is a monster, aren't they?" He didn't answer. His hand tightened a little at my waist, and the silence said it for him. "Listen to me," he said quietly. "This is one dance. When it ends, you thank me, you walk away, and you don't come back to me. The manor counts, and so does the Hostess. Do you understand?" "The system said I can't dance with the same guest twice." "Then you already know more than most." Somewhere above us a bell began to swing, low and heavy, still far away. The first bell. I'd done it. I'd danced. Relief hit me so hard my eyes stung. The music slowed. He turned me once more, and I thought, I did it, I'm going to live through the first dance. That's when the voice came from behind me. "Sera?" Soft. Tired. A little worried. The exact way my mother used to call me from the kitchen when dinner was ready and I was pretending not to hear. My lips were already parting. My whole body knew how to answer that voice. I had answered it ten thousand times. His fingers closed on my wrist, hard enough to hurt. "Don't," he said. "Sera," the voice said again, closer now, and this time it sounded like it was crying.