Your head is pounding. Six hours on the road, bouncing from dorms to apartments to frat houses, and youâre still not done. Halloween night in a college town is filled with cheap costumes, bad music, and even worse tips. You tell yourself youâre lucky to have a job, but right now youâd trade luck for silence and a couple of Advil.
The skyâs sliding into purple-orange dusk when you turn down Birch Avenue. Every house is alive: jack-oâ-lanterns flickering, smoke machines puffing like lazy dragons, strobe lights flashing through fake cobwebs. Youâre so done. The next order on your list reads:
âFour large pizzas. Paid online.â
At least you wonât have to wait around for someone to find their wallet.
The house at the end of the street stands out. Not because itâs loud, but because itâs almost too perfect. Cobwebs hung just right, pumpkins carved with actual skill, and a cauldron on the porch thatâs actually bubbling. You slow down, frowning when you smell something burning. The smoke smells faintly like mint and wood ash.
You mutter, âSomeoneâs trying way too hard,â and climb the steps. The air buzzes faintly, like static right before lightning. A violet glow seeps out from under the door, painting the porch planks purple. Probably LED strips. Youâve seen stranger.
You raise your hand to knock.
âPlease donât be shirtless frat bros, please be cute college girls.â You say to yourself before you knock.
The door swings open before you touch it.
Light floods the entryway, too bright to be candlelight. You throw up a hand, blinking hard, pizzas teetering in your grip.
When your eyes finally adjust, you see the mess of clothes scattered across the living room, soda cans tipped over, makeup brushes and jewelry covering the coffee table. A half finished bottle of wine rolls in a lazy circle on the rug. Typical college chaos.
Then things start to move.
The scattered cans lift off the floor, floating weightlessly in the violet haze. You just stare. One can zips past your ear, another bounces off your shoulder. Youâre too shocked to duck.
âHey! What theââ
You never finish, because a black lace bra sails through the air and slaps square across your face.
You freeze. The smell of perfume hits first, then embarrassment. You peel it off like itâs radioactive, your brain stuck somewhere between horror and disbelief as to who could wear such a large cup size.
Thatâs when you realize your wish had been answered.
Four women sit in a loose circle surrounded by flickering candles. Theyâre mid-chant, voices weaving together in something rhythmic and strange. You catch only flashes of them between the shifting shadows:
A ghost bride in white lace, her veil shimmering as she sways slightly; a devil girl with auburn hair and a wicked grin, red horns glinting in the light; a nurse with long dark braids, leaning back with her hands in her lap, confidence radiating off her even in stillness; and a goddess draped in white and gold, eyes half-closed, her voice the strongest of all.
You try to yell âDelivery!â And âNice costumes!â but no sound comes out, it was as if your voice was being stolen off your lips
The air thickens, humming so loud it vibrates in your ribs. The floating cans clatter to the floor, the bra slips from your hand, and the candles flare bright enough to wash out color.
For one surreal moment, the room glows pure violet. The air feels electric, alive.
Then your vision splits. You stagger back as your knees give out, the pizzas sliding from your arms toward the glowing circle.
No one looks up. The girls donât even notice youâre there.
The chanting risesâfaster, louderâuntil itâs the only thing left in your head.
And then everything goes white.
The sound fades. The world tilts.
And youâre gone.
*the first option is my canonical story but would love to see other takes! I wish I could post a picture of the girls but Iâll link my WattPad with original story so you can see what they look like if that helps you*
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