I try not to let my heart sink too much. It was just a spur of the moment thing, and a shallow one at that. Besides, even if the people Robin picked were probably the best I’d pick, it’d still probably be a dumb decision. (if FORREST/SEB picked: Condoms didn’t prevent every disease.)

I could still probably find someone, but... I mean, I don’t know. It’s hard not to be a little discouraged.

Time for more chocolate strawberries to fill the void, then. Give it a bit to recover before I maybe try again.

My ankle throbs a little with every step back through the crowd. Right, another reason to tuck in early. Smart thinking, past me.

But wading back through only kills the vibe harder when I get a now empty platter for my troubles.

I mean... there’s still plenty of candy corn, at least?

I just. I think I’ll just find my heels and cut my losses. It’s not like I had a horrible time, not at all -- but the thought of drifting around as the party slowly dwindles just makes my hackles rise more.

Di: “Now where did Yvonne toss them, again?”

I’m pretty sure I saw a slip of mirror, and a counter. And it wasn’t further in, so it wasn’t one of the bedrooms. So one of the bathrooms, then.

Di: “Robin mentioned one was down and around somewhere here...”

It takes two more crowds, a couple wrong tries, and more than a couple minutes, but I find it.

The door’s shut when I find it, but since there’s no light slipping through the crack underneath, I figure there’s no one there.

And, you know, like an idiot, just barge on through.

[BANG SFX]

???: “Ouch!”

Just to get treated to the sight of a couple totally making out against the counter. Or, well, not currently because of the whole door hitting thing, but they’re still holding each other and they were there together in here, and and one wasn’t leant over the toilet while the other held their hair up or something, so I mean --

Di: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean --!”

I hesitate when I recognize [Madison/Forrest/Sebastian/Yvonne] rubbing [her/his] shoulder, the person [he/she] ran off with slumping down to half-lean on the counter.

I freeze when I see the blood.

It has to be, even if it looks all gross and black in the candlelight. It’s just gushing out of the other [guy/girl]’s neck in a way that can’t be healthy, and I can barely make out the two even tears in [his/her] throat they stem from.

[Madison/Forrest/Sebastian/Yvonne]’s mouth is slathered in it too, even down to the teeth. It only takes a second for [her/him] to wipe at [her/his] mouth with a hand and then -- lick it, gross - to let go and reach for a towel.

[Madison] then turns on me, eyes glowing and absolutely furious.
“I’m kinda in the middle of something!”
[Forrest] looks at me with glowing eyes wide and frantic.
“It’s not what it looks like!”
[Sebastian] manages a dry smirk my way, definitely annoyed. His eyes gleam dangerously.
“You’re actually going to make someone die at this rate.”
[Yvonne] looks at me from under her lashes, her smile promising murder, eyes shining bright like a cat with its next prey.
“It’s rude to interrupt a meal, you know.”

Di: “What? I don’t...”

There’s one last chance I’m misunderstanding and the klaxons screeching in my head are for nothing.

I fumble for the lights.

Vamp: “Agh --!”

The fangs stand out all the more prominently in [Madison/Forrest/Sebastian/Yvonne]’s mouth as [he/she] blanches.
[If Forrest: He definitely wasn’t wearing those before. I would’ve seen them during the ritual thing.]
[If Others: Those definitely weren’t part of the costume.]
My heart drops to the pit in my stomach and my mouth goes dry.

Vamp: “Wait --”

[She/he] takes a step forward and stumble, glancing down. I forgot that we’re not the only ones there. [Name] mutters a curse under [her/his] breath and tries to pick the -- not corpse, that was a groan, okay -- back up as they ragdoll. Definitely out of it. Definitely real blood. Oh God.

I take my chance and bolt. A voice call out my name and it just makes the blood rush louder in my ears.

Logistically speaking, jumping straight to the supernatural option would be a reach in most circumstances. Even with the blood and the fangs. [He/she] could’ve just been awful at hickeys. Or super into that. Or a cannibal. Tis the season and all that.

But magic or not, I have a feeling that sticking around wouldn’t have done me any favors.

And the other person -- God, okay, it takes a hot second to grab a lift anyway, I’ll find Robin let him know, and okay, okay, lift and call the cops and let Robin know that someone might’ve just been murdered in his bathroom before I get the hell out of dodge. Perfect.

I run, but I forgot about my ankle.

The door’s in sight when I feel a sharp pain shoot up my leg, and everything tilts sideways.

Di: OUCH!

I practically piledrive my knee into the hardwood when I crash, knocking the wind out of me. Holy shit.

ROBIN: Woah, hey! Hey.