Page 26 of Deadmen's Captive

“I told the night watchman,” I said. “The first night I was followed home, and the second and third times. I asked the day watchman about the letters but he knew nothing. They think it's a Halloween prank by some ex-boyfriend.”

“I suppose that’s plausible.”

“Not really, I’ve never dated anyone.”

Kate stuck her head around the curtain, a look of shock on her face. “Anyone? Like, ever?”

“Like ever,” I confirmed. “My mother didn’t let me date. She wanted me pure for my future snobby husband. Urgh, I swear if arranged marriages were legal in this country, she’d have found some way to marry me off to some ancient decrepit millionaire with status. She loves the idea of Tristan.”

Kate shook her head and disappeared again. “But you’re twenty two,” she said, her voice muffled by fabric. “You can’t get married now. And I don’t see Tristan Blackwood as the marriage type.” She stuck her head back out and reached for a nearby carousel covered in feather boas, dragging three back through the curtain and disappearing again.

"I know, I know..." I said, reclining back onto the chair again. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I had that feeling again. Like someone was watching. But I pushed it away and focused back on our conversation. "But between classes, my art projects and all these weird things happening, I don't really have time to think about dating. I should tell Tristan I’m not interested."

There was a pause and then Kate’s muffled voice broke through the silence. "Well, you need to make time. Everyone needs a little romance in their life."

"Yeah, I’m a hallmark heroine" I muttered, not really convinced. "Right now, I'd just like a little less creepy skull mask stalker horror slasher film in my life.”

Kate laughed, and pushed the curtain aside. “What do you think?” she asked, coming out into the shop. She turned slowly, and I shook my head. The dress could have been made for her. It looked like some old wedding dress, dyed black and torn, with faded fabric roses, and Kate had found a blood red feather boa to set it off.

“Perfect,” I said. Kate gave her appearance a stern look in the mirror.

“It has potential,” she said. “Yes. Definitely potential. but I’ll need to get home soon to work on it. We’ve only got a few hours till the ball and there’s hair and makeup too. You need to go find something while I’m getting changed.”

I stood back up, but hesitated. “Kate, I really don’t feel up to going, not with all this going on… and what if he delivers another letter while we’re out? Or we get followed again?”

"Got any on you?" she asked, backing out of the changing room, arms full of black tulle.

“Um, yes, I have a couple in my bag…”

“Show me,” she ordered, dumping the dress next to the chair. I reached into my bag and removed the bundle of red envelopes. I handed them over, watching as Kate’s eyes narrowed while she read the letters through twice.

"Jesus, Paige," she muttered, scanning the looping, almost elegant handwriting. "These are straight-up ominous."

I shrugged, trying to mask the shudder that ran down my spine. "I told campus security. They think it's some dumb prank."

"Prank?" Kate scoffed, her gaze flicking up to meet mine. "This is next-level creepy. They can't just brush this off."

“Well, they did. Three times. As soon as I mentioned being followed by a guy in a skull mask, they backed off. It was almost as though they were afraid to pursue it further, though they just kept telling me not to take it seriously and that it would be over after Halloween. I'm assuming it's some malicious prank those reaper guys play on some unsuspecting new student every year, but it’s working. I feel totally freaked out, and I always feel like someone is watching me.”

Kate stood up and handed me the letters. I tucked them back into my bag.

“Ok, that settles it. you are coming tonight, because I am not leaving you alone in the dorm room with some psycho around.”

“Kate, there’s the nightwatchman and…”

“The nightwatchman who doesn’t see the guy in the skull mask sliding creepy letters under your door in the middle of the night? The one the guy sneaks past every time he does that? that watchman?”

“Good point.” I sighed. “Fine, I’ll come, and I’ll wear a costume, but nothing too… much. Last time I went to a costume party, my mother made me go as Maire Antoinette, and I want something less constricting.” And something I could run in, I added silently in my head.

Kate nodded, her face lighting up at my agreement. “Deal.” She reached out, grabbing a hanger with a dramatic flourish, pulling a witch's costume, complete with a pointed hat and black tulle skirts, off the rail. Without a word, she grabbed another—a gothic vampire dress —and steered me towards the changing rooms, her determination a palpable force.

"Come on," she said. "We're not letting whoever this is win by scaring you into hiding. You need a costume, and we're going to find one that makes you feel good. And that makes Tristan salivate like a starving dog shown a ribeye."

The changing room was cramped, the mirror speckled with age. Kate handed me the vampire one first, the fabric cool and slippery between my fingers. I pulled it on, but the fabric was scratchy and uncomfortable.

"Try the witch," Kate insisted, thrusting the costume into my arms.

The dress hugged my body in a flattering way, but there was too much tulle and it looked similar to Kate’s costume, only with a witch’s hat. I shook my head and pulled it off.

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