Ruby carefully ran the fine tip of the eyeliner past the outer corner of her eyelid, connecting the points before meticulously filling in the small wing shape. She blinked, straightened up, and inspected her new appearance in the bathroom mirror. The cat-eye look seemed to have worked. She smoothed a piece of her hair back into place and made sure that her black cat ears were positioned correctly.

There was movement in the doorway.

She turned to find her father standing there. His eyes found the black marks on her eyelids, and a strange expression ghosted over his features. His brows furred slightly. "Do you have to wear makeup?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Dad, I'm not a kid. And it's Halloween! Makeup is tradition!"

"I'm . . . not sure I'd call it tradition—"

"But doesn't it look great?!" Ruby asked gleefully, spreading her arms in presentation of her ensemble. In addition to the ears, she wore black leggings under a fluffy black skirt, a turtleneck in the same color, and a matching sleeveless bolero jacket that glittered in certain places. It could have been worse, Bevrian thought.

"It's nice, Honey."

She beamed.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Ruby gasped and slipped past Bevrian, rushing to the front door.

She threw it open, but her wide smile froze when she laid eyes upon the tall man before her. His usual impassive expression was apparent even behind his shades. Before her excitement had the chance to dwindle too much, another figure popped into view, cutting in front of Rovan with a cheerful grin and a little wave of his pale hand. "Hey, Ruby!"

Ruby's spirits brightened right back up. "Arvan!" She took in his appearance, which, at first, was slightly alarming: greenish-grey blotches marred his abnormally pale skin, accentuated here and there with streaks and flecks of what was clearly fake blood. His hair was a bit mussed, and his clothes—a simple button-down shirt and grey jacket and trousers—looked dirty and were torn in some places. Clearly, he was supposed to be a zombie. She smiled to herself. Somehow, it suited him.

Bevrian suddenly appeared behind her. "Let them in, Ruby," he said gently, and she stepped aside to make way for their guests.

When she had closed the door behind them, Rovan held up something that he was carrying in a silent question to Bevrian. The latter took in the sight of the case of hard cider and motioned for Rovan to follow him down the hall to the kitchen, leaving the two teenagers in the entryway.

Ruby watched them go, then turned to Arvan. He was looking at her with a soft smile and his head slightly bowed. "You look great, Ruby."

She grinned, trying to ignore her flush of embarrassment. "Thanks! So do you! Nice makeup job!"

"Ah—thanks! Rovan helped." Arvan scratched the back of his head, clearly embarrassed himself.

This information surprised Ruby a little, but at the same time, she supposed that Rovan could be surprising when it came to some things. After all, one wouldn't expect him to be the type to adopt someone like Arvan.

In spite of her less-than-favorable opinion of her father's friend, Ruby knew that she should give credit where credit was due. She settled for a simple bright smile in acknowledgment of Rovan's efforts.

Arvan looked embarrassed but pleased, and for a few moments, neither he nor Ruby spoke.

When she could no longer bear the silence, Ruby said,

"So, um . . . are you hungry? My dad made some stuff, if you want it."

Arvan perked up. "Oh—yeah! That sounds great! It'll give us the energy we need to get as much candy as possible."

Ruby laughed. "You read my mind!"

The two of them made their way into the kitchen. Upon the island was a spread of party food, such as barbecue cocktail sausages (the sauce for which Ruby had insisted be ketchup-heavy, so as to give the little links more of a gruesome appearance), a bowl of green, frothy punch, some fruit salad (Bevrian had stipulated that there must be something fresh), tortilla chips, and a baked cheesy broccoli dip. Rovan was currently leaning against the counter, taking a swig from a bottle of hard cider, while Bevrian stowed the rest in the fridge. Ruby grabbed a party plate from a small stack on the island and went straight for the dip, serving herself a nice portion before using a chip to scoop some into her mouth. She snuck a glance at Rovan. He hadn't removed his glasses—not that she was surprised—but she could practically feel his disdainful gaze on the pile of cheesy goodness on her plate. She tried not to smirk as she imagined her father forcing him to eat it while insisting that one could hardly taste the broccoli.

Luckily, Arvan didn't have a problem with any of the food. He and Ruby ate moderate helpings, both of them secretly wanting to save room for candy if they happened to get a craving while they were out.

When Ruby looked at the clock, she stifled an exclamation as she saw that they only had a few minutes before trick-or-treating began. She deposited her plate on the counter, gulped down the rest of her punch, then gave Arvan's sleeve a tug. He looked at her with those wide eyes of his and swallowed his current mouthful of food.

"Let's go! It's just about time! We don't want to be late!"

Without hesitation, Arvan followed her lead. Before they left the room, Bevrian said, "Be careful!"

"We will!" Ruby called back, then dashed down the hall, leaving her companion behind.

Bevrian took the opportunity to speak again. "Arvan—"

The boy stopped in the doorway, looking back expectantly.

"Look out for her."

Arvan nodded solemnly, taking the assignment with the utmost seriousness. Then, he smiled, directing it at both men before him. "We won't be out too late."

As he hurried off to meet Ruby at the front door, Bevrian exhaled a soft chuckle. "You're doing well with him," he said, keeping his voice down.

Rovan's tone was flat. "I haven't done anything. He came that way." The front door closed, and the house fell silent.

Rovan put his mostly drained bottle down onto the counter, then reached into his jacket and withdrew a pack of cigarettes. As he began to dispense one, Bevrian tapped his arm. Rovan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Outside," Bevrian instructed, choosing not to point out that his friend knew better than to light up in the house. Rovan pocketed the cigarettes without a word, and while Bevrian proceeded to the back door, pausing to put on his shoes, Rovan retrieved two more bottles from the fridge.


The air was crisp and refreshing as evening descended, the sky just slightly overcast. Ruby wondered whether it might rain, but decided that it didn't matter. It would be an adventure to be caught in a Halloween rain with Arvan. She kicked her way through a few patches of fallen leaves that had accumulated at the edges of the sidewalk, enjoying the way that they scattered, swinging her Jack-o-lantern-shaped candy bucket at her side.

Suddenly, she felt something brush her other hand. She looked down to find Arvan tentatively reaching for it. Before she could react, he clasped her hand in his. They both stopped walking, and she looked up at him, eyebrows raised. She could tell that he was blushing, despite the makeup, and could feel her own face warming. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled softly up at him, then tugged him along, and they started off again without a word between them.

When a pair of kids crossed the street just ahead, making their way toward them, Arvan released her abruptly. She looked up at him, puzzled. His head was slightly bowed, and his hair fell into his eyes. He was avoiding looking at the kids at all costs. That wouldn't do. Without saying anything, Ruby took his hand, this time lacing their fingers together. His eyes widened as he stared with wonder at their joined hands, then at her face. She grinned at him and saw him relax as he returned the smile.

More and more children in costume, accompanied by parents or older siblings, gradually appeared, as did a few small groups of teenagers, some of whom had put more effort into their costumes than others. Porch lights blinked on up and down the street, signaling that it was now time for the fun to begin.

Without stepping on any small toes, Arvan and Ruby covered both sides of the street, and had already received a decent haul as they moved on to the next. Ruby had caught a glimpse of one of her favorite candies as an elderly lady had dropped several pieces into her bucket, and she was tempted to dig for it, but decided to wait. She always enjoyed seeing everything spread out on the floor after she got home, and having a piece go missing would be a shame.

Night began to fall, and the streetlights came on, adding a bit of an eerie atmosphere to the dreary night. It still hadn't rained, but the scent of moisture hung in the air. Ruby and Arvan's buckets were getting heavy, but there was still plenty of time left, and one house in particular that Ruby had to be sure that they paid a visit.

A few blocks later, they came upon it. A thrill of excitement coursed through Ruby when she beheld the dark void where she knew that the house sat. Only a small white pinprick of light above the front door offered any sign that the house was on the trick-or-treat route. The front walk was lined with little glowing skulls that changed color.

Ruby felt Arvan tense slightly beside her, and she patted his arm to reassure him. "It's okay, come on! You'll love it!" He conceded, trusting her judgment, and they both made their way up the lighted path, hand in hand.

When they were about halfway to the door, a sudden whirring sound reached them, and they froze in place, looking to the dark lawn on either side. By the sparse glow of the streetlamps nearby, they could make out a series of shapes . . . moving . . . rising from the ground. Arvan drew Ruby closer to him, and though she knew that there was nothing to be afraid of, the sight was awfully spooky, and she found herself clinging to Arvan almost more than he was clinging to her.

The shapes rose and rose, until they appeared to be black ghosts hanging in the air all around. They moved—flew—with a chilling fluidity as they began to circle Ruby and Arvan, swooping low, then soaring higher, their black veils trailing in their wake. Then, the eeriest conglomeration of sounds filled the air as the black ghosts began to moan and shriek.

Ruby and Arvan bolted for the door, shrieking themselves and laughing along the way, ducking to avoid any possible contact with the spectres. They reached the front door, still clinging to each other, and Ruby rang the doorbell.

It opened a moment later to reveal a man in a pale-blue sweater and tousled blonde hair. He held a tablet-looking device in one hand. He smiled down at the pair in front of him.

"That was amazing, Uncle Taer!" Ruby exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Arvan nodded, the brief fear and the burst of adrenaline-induced laughter mellowing into a relaxed smile. "It was very effective."

"I'm glad you liked it," Taer replied, looking quite pleased, then touched the tablet a few times, and the wailing and moaning behind them died. He then proceeded to hold out a bowl of candy to Ruby and Arvan. "Help yourselves!" he said, and they each grabbed a healthy fistful, thanking him heartily. They were quickly running out of room in their buckets.

Taer suddenly leaned closer, as if he were bringing them into his confidence, and asked them seriously, "Was the audio a little much?"

Ruby shook her head, her smile bright, and Arvan only hesitated for a moment before deciding that he agreed with her. "It was perfect," she insisted. "Don't change a thing!"

Satisfied with his work, Taer straightened up. "Excellent. Thanks, you two." He gave them a little wave, and they made their way back down the front walk, the drones settling back into place around them, once again disguised in darkness, awaiting their next victim.

"Your uncle has some impressive talent," Arvan remarked as they continued down the street.

"Yeah! I always look forward to his new ideas every year. Once, he made a really cool display of lighted statues in the yard that made it seem like zombies were coming to get you. They lit up, one at a time, and seemed like they were following you. But this was cooler, even if it wasn't as flashy."

"Hmmm~ Zombies, huh?" A mischievous spark lit in Arvan's eyes, and he pinned them on Ruby. "You mean . . . like this?" He slouched his shoulders, hunched his back slightly, and his jaw went slack. With a vacant stare, he slowly closed the gap between them.

Ruby gave a small shriek and backed up, then giggled. "No! Stay away!"

Arvan groaned theatrically, reaching for her, taking one slow step, then another. "Can . . . dy . . ."

Ruby clutched her pumpkin bucket to her chest. "Not my candy!"

Arvan pursued as she took a few more steps backward. "Must . . . have . . . candy . . . !"

"You already have some!" Ruby giggled.

"Not . . . enough!" Suddenly Arvan lunged, catching her off guard, and she gave a genuine squeal of surprise as he wrapped his arms around her.

She couldn't help but laugh as a blush colored her cheeks. "No! Mr. Zombie, please, not my candy! Wouldn't you rather have me instead?"

Her words hadn't fully registered with her until they had left her mouth. She stopped laughing, the heat in her face intensifying, and Arvan seemed to drop the act, relinquishing his hold on her slightly. "I-I mean—" she stammered, utterly embarrassed.

But then, something soft and warm touched her cheek. Her eyes widened, and she looked up into Arvan's face, finding it only a couple of inches from hers. He wore a gentle smile that still held that hint of dark mischief. When he spoke, his tone was quiet and laden with sincerity. "You're right. I would much rather have you."

It was like a fist had seized her heart, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She quickly averted her eyes, and, with her embarrassment getting the best of her, gave him a light swat on the arm. He straightened, and she snuck a glance at him. She was secretly relieved to find that he hadn't been fazed by her reaction. In fact, he looked rather pleased with himself.

Feeling like she should say something, she blurted out, "There's one more place I want to go!"

Arvan raised his eyebrows and waited for an explanation, but she merely took hold of his sleeve and tugged him along after her.


The logs crackled as the flames leapt in the fire pit. Bevrian cast another sidelong glance at Rovan. The firelight reflected in his sunglasses, and the tip of his cigarette glowed dully. He hadn't spoken—or moved—in a while. Bevrian even wondered whether he might have dozed off, but this wasn't the first time that he had lapsed into this kind of mood in the last couple of months.

Bevrian threw caution to the wind. "Have you heard from her lately?"

There was no response.

Then, Rovan's cigarette twitched.

Bevrian looked back into the flames, repressing a sigh. He didn't want to get involved, but this was getting ridiculous. He might end up paying for it but he had to say something. "You could try calling her."

The silence almost seemed to grow thicker. Bevrian could feel Rovan's eyes on him, even before he glanced back over and saw that his head was tilted just the slightest bit in his direction. Even with Rovan's eyes covered, it wasn't difficult to tell where they were looking.

Rather than backing down, he pushed on. "What? Should I never say anything, and just let you wallow like this?"

"Wallow?" Rovan muttered disdainfully around his cigarette.

"What else would you call it?" Bevrian challenged.

"Thinking."

"Well, I hope you don't 'think' too much around Arvan." Bevrian felt a stab of guilt after he had spoken, but he did not rescind his words. Rovan had never been normal in any capacity, but this new solemn, almost dour version of him couldn't be pleasant to live with. That is, assuming that he was like this at home. It was more than likely. Bevrian hadn't seen a genuine smile from his friend in weeks.

Bevrian exhaled in tempered aggravation. He really shouldn't get involved. He didn't even know what they had fought about.

Suddenly, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to find Rovan extending a bottle of hard cider toward him. Bevrian narrowed his eyes. He saw Rovan's eyebrows lift a bit further over the top of his glasses. Bevrian took the bottle and cracked it open with the sleeve of his coat. He took a swig, and the liquid burned pleasantly on the way down. He couldn't deny that the sharp, acidic flavor hit the spot. Still, he knew that Rovan was using it as a ploy to try to distract him. He could play along and drop the subject. But then what would have been the point of bringing it up in the first place?

"You should call her."

A few seconds of silence passed. Then a faint, soft tapping joined the crackling from the fire. Bevrian took another drink—then glanced at his friend. The cigarette was twitching again, and Rovan's index finger was drumming steadily on the arm of his lawn chair. But the man made no outright refusal, nor did he scold Bevrian for his suggestion. It was as good a sign as any. Bevrian would take it and leave it at that.


The house was huge. House . . . more like a mansion.

Arvan had never been to this side of town before, and he was almost shocked to find that something so grand existed here. But it wasn't only the house itself that drew his attention. The place had been decorated extravagantly for the holiday. Orange and purple lights bedecked the exterior, and the lawn had been transformed into a cemetery, with skeletons and rotting corpses appearing to burst forth from their graves. No, Arvan had never seen it for himself, until now, but he had certainly heard of this place and the man who lived here. It was impossible not to. His soirées were practically legendary. Legendary . . . but definitely adult-friendly.

"Um . . . I don't think your dad would want you to be here . . ."

"Hm?" Ruby looked at him, her large eyes filled with a touch of innocent confusion. "Why not?"

"It's—not really appropriate . . ."

Ruby stifled a laugh. "We're not going inside! We're just trick-or-treating!"

Oct. 30/31

If that was truly her only motive for coming here, then it was probably fine, Arvan thought. But knowing Ruby and her curious nature . . . well, Bevrian had asked him to look out for her for a reason.

"Okay," Arvan conceded with trepidation, "let's go."

Ruby swung open the waist-high wrought-iron gate, and the pair made their way up the front walk, admiring the elaborate displays as they went. Despite being impressed by the creativity and effort that had gone into everything, Arvan couldn't help but cringe at a few of them. But Ruby's enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself smiling and enjoying the spectacle as they neared the porch steps. Realistic window decals made it appear as though a hoard of zombies was trying to break out of the house. This guy sure went over the top, Arvan thought.

He and Ruby approached the door. Faint music could be heard from within the manor. The party was in full swing. As soon as Ruby rang the doorbell, a round peephole a couple of inches in diameter opened, revealing a large, unblinking bloodshot eye that stared down at them. They jumped, grabbing on to each other's arms. But they quickly realized that the eye wasn't real, and relaxed. Nothing else happened. They waited patiently for a few more seconds, and as they exchanged a glance, wondering whether this place wasn't on the trick-or-treat route after all, the door opened, and a man stood there, smiling down at them, quite reminiscent of the eye, despite his clean-cut and sophisticated appearance. Arvan didn't have to be told that this was the so-called lord of the manor himself: Powell.

The man was tall, and Arvan couldn't help but find him somewhat intimidating, despite his pleasant expression. Perhaps it was his Victorian-era three-piece suit ensemble with a cravat and his fastidiously slicked-back hair that did it. Or maybe it was something in his eyes . . .

"Trick or treat!" Ruby said cheerily, snapping Arvan out of his speculation. She was holding out her bucket expectantly. Arvan did the same, though his "trick or treat" didn't quite have her level of enthusiasm.

"Well, don't you two look just wonderful," Powell replied, taking in their costumes. He then reached out of sight, behind the door frame, and produced a handful of candy, which he added to Ruby's haul. "There we are, Miss Adorable Little Black Cat!" He retrieved another handful. "And there you go," he said as he dropped the pieces into Arvan's bucket. "Very nice costume choice, by the way. I'm partial to the undead myself, as you can tell." He gave a sly wink, and Arvan grinned in embarrassment at the compliment, while also cringing slightly on the inside. There was something about this man . . .

"Well, have a nice night, and get home safely, kids!" Powell waved playfully, and Ruby and Arvan thanked him as he closed the door.

Yes, he was definitely an eccentric character, Arvan thought as he turned to go. He stopped and looked back when he noticed that Ruby wasn't moving. "Ruby?" When he saw the grumpy pout on her face, he asked, "What is it?"

"I didn't get to see a thing!"

"Uh . . ."

"Do you see this place? Did you see what he was wearing? His parties must be the best ever!"

Arvan sighed, but a soft smile touched his lips. "Well, someday maybe you can go." He gently grasped her arm. "But right now, we have our own party to get to!"

Ruby turned to him, her frown vanishing. "Yeah! Let's go!"

They practically raced back down the walk, and Arvan barely remembered to close the gate before they hurried off.

As they wheeled around the corner hedge at the end of the block, Arvan had to throw his arms around Ruby's waist and bring her to an abrupt halt to prevent her from colliding with a boy and a girl who were walking arm in arm. Ruby shrieked in surprise, then burst into a fit of giggles, barely managing to keep the candy from spilling out of her bucket. Arvan's, meanwhile, suffered a few casualties.

"Sorry, we got carried away," he said, offering an abashed smile to the couple. The boy wore a high-collared cloak over a tuxedo, and faint traces of fake blood stained the corners of his lips. His dark-red hair was tamed into a style similar to Powell's. Clearly, he was a vampire. The girl with him wore a burgundy dress, and Arvan thought that he caught sight of a bloody vampire bite mark on her neck. The pair was familiar, but it was rather dark, and before he had time to think about it, he suddenly remembered that he was holding Ruby. He quickly let go of her and stooped to retrieve his candy.

Then, Ruby exclaimed, "Dune! Wow, you look great!"

Arvan looked up, feeling silly for not recognizing him sooner. Although, he had only met him and his girlfriend a couple of times, so he supposed he shouldn't feel too bad.

"Thanks," Dune replied with a lighthearted laugh. "So do you guys."

"Did you go trick-or-treating?" Ruby asked.

"Nah, not this year. We're actually just going to get some dinner before a movie premiere later."

"Ohhh! If you're hungry, we have some food at home! You can join us if you want—"

Arvan leapt up with his replenished bucket and took hold of Ruby's arm once again, interjecting, "It's actually not much, just some party food. But yeah, you're totally welcome to stop by!" He locked eyes with Dune, hoping that he would understand the message behind his words.

He breathed an inner sigh of relief when Dune said, "Thanks for the offer, but I promised Marie a nice, juicy steak." Marie giggled, and Dune cocked a grin. A calm warmth filled Arvan at their subtle display off affection. "We should definitely hang out soon, though," Dune added as he and Marie moved past Arvan and Ruby.

"Definitely!" Ruby replied, and the couple waved over their shoulders as they went. Ruby turned to Arvan with a wistful smile. "A movie sounds fun."

"Yeah, it does."

"Just not a scary one."

"Even though it's Halloween?" Arvan joked, though he wasn't such a big fan of scary movies himself.

"Nah," Ruby giggled. "Well . . . not too scary."

As they continued on their way, refraining from running this time, an idea formed in Arvan's mind. A movie did sound perfect.