1999

9. Happy Halloween

Main Street had taken on a different atmosphere as night fell, the once bright and cheerful sidewalks now buzzing with the energy of teenagers and adults, all dressed in a variety of costumes. The trick-or-treaters had finished their rounds, their laughter and shouts replaced by the low hum of conversations, the occasional burst of music from a distant party, and the echoes of footsteps on the pavement. Y/n walked through the throngs of people, her mind focused on the path ahead, though her thoughts were elsewhere.

She was dressed as an angel—a costume she had chosen with a sense of dark irony. The dress was a pure, radiant white, a stark contrast to the darkness she felt within. It was tight around her chest, the fabric hugging her curves and accentuating the swell of her breasts, before flaring out just at the top of her thighs, leaving her legs mostly exposed. The hem of the dress swayed with each step she took, barely covering her as she moved. White fishnet stockings clung to her legs, adding a touch of sensuality to the otherwise innocent outfit. A halo headband rested atop her head, the delicate band of silver glitter catching the light from the streetlamps as she walked.

Her makeup was simple but striking. White mascara made her eyelashes appear longer and more ethereal, while a sharp wing of white eyeliner extended from the corners of her eyes, giving her a wide-eyed, almost otherworldly appearance. Her lips were a soft, natural pink, and her straightened hair fell around her shoulders, the red highlights she usually sported now washed out, leaving her hair a deep brown. The costume was completed by a pair of white heels that clicked against the pavement, the sound almost lost in the noise of the crowd.

As she walked, she felt eyes on her—men and women alike stealing glances at her as she passed. But Y/n paid them no mind. Her thoughts were far from the attention she was receiving. Instead, they were focused on the events of the past twenty-four hours, on the dark secret she now carried with her. The weight of it pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe, but she forced herself to keep moving, to keep playing the part.

The distant sound of a car approaching pulled her from her thoughts. She turned her head slightly, recognizing the vehicle as it slowed down to a stop beside her. It was Klaus's car—a sleek, old-fashioned model with a polished finish that gleamed under the streetlights. The car window rolled down smoothly, and Y/n was greeted by the sight of Five's familiar face peeking out from the back seat. His sharp features were partially obscured by the shadows, but she could see the glint of his dark eyes as they locked onto her.

"Well, well, if it isn't an angel," Five said, his voice low and smooth, carrying just a hint of amusement. There was something else there too, something darker that made Y/n's heart skip a beat.

She forced a smile, the expression feeling foreign on her face. "Hey, Five," she replied, keeping her tone light, though it was a struggle. The sound of his voice, the way he looked at her—it was all too much, too close to the truth she knew but couldn't speak.

He leaned back in his seat, still watching her closely. "Come on, angel. Get in," he said, pushing the door open with a fluid motion.

Y/n hesitated, her hand hovering over the door handle. A part of her screamed to run, to get as far away from this car, from him, as possible. But she pushed that instinct down, knowing that there was no turning back now. She had made her choice, and she would have to live with it, no matter how dangerous it might be.

She slid into the back seat, the cool leather pressing against her bare legs as she settled in. The door closed with a soft thud, sealing her inside the car. Immediately, she was enveloped in the warm, musky scent that lingered in the vehicle—a mix of cologne, leather, and something distinctly masculine that she couldn't quite place.

"Nice costume," Klaus said from the driver's seat, his voice filled with his usual playful energy. He turned around briefly to give her a thumbs-up, his zombie makeup cracking slightly as he grinned at her. His costume was elaborate—his face painted a sickly gray with deep, dark lines etched across his skin, mimicking the look of decaying flesh. His clothes were torn and dirtied, completing the illusion of the undead.