Nightmare Encounter

October 31st, 9pm

Mikey’s Pub is packed.

As per usual, the pub will get packed with adults in costumes. Ready for the fun this night brings.

I find Amy with Landon and Maria in one of our favorite spots; a table in the corner with a view to the outside woods. The night sky is clear today, just the moon and the night chills. Bad Things by Jace Evertte blast through the whole room, bodies swaying on each other while others drink or sweet talk a person or two into a dark corner.

“Finally you made it!” Amy jumps out of her seat and hugs me.

I roll my eyes, as always dramatic. “Hey guys.” Landon winks at me and Maria waves.

Amy is dressed as snow white this year since she cut her black hair into a bob. The costume is not kid friendly though, not if the sight of her n*****s slipping through the mesh of the corset is anything to go by. Maria is dressed like a vampire with fake blood running down her chin and down her neck. And Landon is a sexy firefighter. No shirt, just pants that hug his ass really nice and suspenders. I lift my eyes at him, his smirk telling me he knows exactly how hot he looks.

“Oh my god, are we ready to get f****d up tonight?” Amy asks, clapping her hands and jumping her t**s nearly out of her dress.

“I honestly can not wait. I have my eye on Justin.” Maria points a finger to the right where a group of three guys dressed as zombies without shirts are dancing.

“Oh yeah so hot,” Amy says, looking around for her victim.

“Who are you interested in being chased by, Gina?” Landon asks, taking a sip of his beer.

I pretend to look around before shrugging, “I don’t know. No one here seems to get my attention.” Landon rolls his eyes, smirking into his drink. The sudden urge to snatch his beer and drip it all over his muscled stomach and lick it strong but soon enough I might just get the chance.

“I hear this year's game is the girls being hunted like prey.” She sighs, “I hate to be the one being hunted.”

“Could be fun to be dominated for once.” Amy states.

I can feel my heart start to pound in anticipation.

Ironically, I love Halloween but I’m scared of the dark and the unknown. Something about not knowing or seeing what someone is going to do scares the s**t out of me. This year we knew the pub was going to take things up a notch. Every year prior has been hot and scary in a way. But nothing like running away from a predator and into the woods and most likely gettin f****d if caught.

The music fades into the background as Mike speaks into the microphone, “Happy Halloween everyone!”

We all cheer, “As you all already know, this year things are taking a darker turn. I hope the men have taken the time already to scope out your pry and formulate a plan for them. You are to chaise, and scare your pry into submission. And girls, you are to let loose this year, he may not want you but if he catches you, you will be his pry!” We all clap and cheer at that, “As always, no rules but be safe. Have fun, and let the chase begin!” The energy in the pub shifts instantly, a mix of excitement and tension crackling in the air.

My heart is pounding in my chest, a mix of fear and thrill making my skin prickle with anticipation. The crowd surges toward the exit, the women laughing and screaming as they bolt into the night, while the men hang back for just a moment, their eyes dark with intent.

Amy grabs my hand, dragging me out into the cool night air, her Snow White dress fluttering behind her as she laughs wildly. “Come on, Gina! Let’s see who catches us!” I follow, my pulse racing as we dash across the parking lot and toward the woods.

The moonlight casts long shadows on the ground, the trees looming like silent sentinels. The sound of laughter and footsteps echoes around us, blending with the rustling of leaves and the distant howl of the wind. We stop at the edge of the woods, panting, our breath visible in the chill. Amy looks at me, her eyes wide with excitement. “Ready to run?”

“Always,” I say, though my voice betrays a hint of the nerves swirling in my stomach. I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of the men spilling out of the pub, their eyes scanning the darkness for movement.

The hunt has begun.

“Let’s split up,” Amy suggests, her grin mischievous. “Make it more interesting.”

“Okay,” I agree, though the thought of being alone in the dark woods makes my heart skip a beat.

Before I can second-guess it, she’s off, disappearing into the shadows with a quick wave. I take a deep breath and turn, slipping into the trees, the sounds of the night closing in around me.

The further I go, the quieter it becomes, the only sounds being the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant echo of voices. I can’t see much beyond a few feet in front of me, the thick canopy overhead blocking out most of the moonlight.

My senses are on high alert, every creak of a branch or rustle of leaves making me jump. I slow my pace, trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping to evade whoever might be out here looking for me.

The thrill of the chase sends adrenaline coursing through my veins, but underneath it all is a lingering sense of dread. The darkness is thick, oppressive, and it’s hard not to think of the nightmare that still lingers in the back of my mind. Suddenly, a snap of a branch nearby makes me freeze.

I turn, scanning the shadows, but see nothing. My breath catches in my throat, and I slowly back away, trying to be silent. But another sound—this one closer—makes me spin around, only to find a figure looming behind me.

A very tall person. His face is hidden by both shadows and his cloak. I suddenly feel a cold shiver come over me. His costume seems really authentic. He's dressed as the Grim Reaper but there’s something that looks and feels different about him and yet familiar.

In the distance I’m aware of the screaming sounds and the moans of pleasure that seem to echo in the night sky, but everything is drowned out as the beating of my heart becomes more frenetic with every slow step he takes towards me.

I take a step back, my breath hitching in my throat as the figure continues to approach, each step deliberate and measured. The air around him seems to thicken, a cold, oppressive weight that presses down on me, making it hard to breathe.

The hood of his cloak obscures his face, leaving only darkness where his features should be, but I can feel his gaze locked on me, sharp and unyielding.

My instinct screams at me to run, to turn and bolt out of the woods, but my body refuses to move, paralyzed by the intensity of the moment. Every muscle is tense, coiled like a spring, yet I’m rooted to the spot as if he has some invisible hold over me. He stops just a few feet away.

I swallow hard, my mouth dry, as I try to summon the courage to speak, to demand to know who he is, but the words die in my throat as he raises a gloved hand. The movement is slow, almost languid, as if he has all the time in the world.

In the pale moonlight, I can see the gleam of something metallic in his hand. A scythe. The blade is long and wickedly sharp, glinting ominously as he tilts it slightly, letting the light catch on the edge. It’s just a costume, I tell myself, just part of the game. But there’s a dark edge to it, a sense of reality that makes my stomach churn.

I take a shaky step back, my breath coming in short, quick gasps. “Who are you?” I manage to whisper, though my voice is barely audible, quivering with fear. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t make a sound. Instead, he takes another step closer, closing the distance between us.

He reaches out with his free hand, the one not holding the scythe, and I flinch as he brushes his fingers against my cheek. The touch is cold, colder than the night air, and it sends a shock of fear coursing through me. His hand lingers for a moment, as if savoring the contact, before he pulls away, leaving me trembling in the wake of his touch.

The world around me feels distant, unreal, as if I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest, my breaths coming in ragged, desperate gulps. I want to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here, but I’m paralyzed, held captive by the sheer intensity of the moment.

Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he leans in, his breath ghosting over my ear as he finally speaks, his voice a low, rumbling whisper that sends chills down my spine. “Run, little prey,” he murmurs, the words laced with dark amusement. “Let’s see if you can escape me.”