Brady Potter Imagines

a halloween prank gone wrong-sofia

Halloween night had always been a special kind of thrill, but this year, it had a different edge. The excitement was tinged with a sense of revenge, as I prepared to give Brady a taste of his own medicine. The prank he pulled last year, which left me in the hospital with a racing heart, was still fresh in my mind. The look of pure horror on his face had been almost worth the scare, but this year, I was determined to turn the tables. I sat alone in the dimly lit living room, where the only light came from a flickering pumpkin-shaped lamp on the coffee table. The orange glow cast eerie shadows that danced across the walls, amplifying the unsettling atmosphere. My heart pounded as I scrolled through my phone, searching for inspiration. The screen flashed with images of past Halloweens, parties, and costumes.

Finally, my finger hovered over an old photo of my ex-boyfriend, Jackson. In the photo, Jackson was dressed as the devil. His devil mask concealed his face, while his shirtless torso, red cape, and black jeans added an intimidating touch. The dark red trident he wielded looked almost real. The image made me grin—this was exactly the look I needed. I quickly made a list of the elements required to complete my plan. The devil costume from Jackson's photo was a great base, but I needed to add my own twist to ensure it would be truly horrifying for Brady. The idea struck me: instead of the shirtless look, I would wear a lacy red crop top. The crop top would add a touch of eerie sensuality, making the costume even more unsettling.

Determined to find the perfect components, I visited several costume shops around town. The first store was a treasure trove of Halloween gear. I picked up a devil mask that looked almost real, a dramatic red cape, black jeans, long red gloves, and a dark red trident. As I drove home, I realized I needed to perfect my devil act. I watched videos on devil behavior, learning how to move and speak in a disorienting, glitchy manner. When I heard Brady's Jeep pull up, I rushed to my room to put on the costume. As I examined myself in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised by how convincing the outfit looked. I added final touches: white contact lenses, fake blood on the ends of my cape, and smudged mascara on my cheeks. I took a deep breath and positioned myself on a chair in the living room, determined to stay in character.

The second Brady walked through the door, he was greeted by a terrifying sight—a red figure sitting on a chair, head slanted to the side. His heart pounded as I approached cautiously. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. The figure's head jerked violently, and it hissed in a distorted voice, "Bray Bray, come here baby, I miss you." The nickname "Bray Bray" struck me like a jolt of electricity. It was a term only my ex-girlfriend, Larrissa, used. A shiver ran down my spine. "Larrissa?!" Brady stammered, his voice shaking. As he observed the figure more closely, he began to realize it had the exact same body shape as me. "Sofia baby, if it's you, itch your nose," Brady demanded, his voice wavering. The figure hesitated before the mask fell off, revealing a face smeared with fake blood and mascara. The voice, now more recognizable, came through, "Brady, I need you, save me."

The sight was horrifying. The combination of the blood, the unsettling costume, and his distraught expression made his blood run cold. Brady took a step back, my breathing shallow. "What is this? Sofia, what's going on?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. The room seemed to close in around me, with the flickering pumpkin-shaped lamp casting eerie shadows. The air felt heavy, the scent of fake blood mingling with the mustiness of the old furniture. "Help me, Brady," my voice trembled. "I'm trapped. They're coming for me. Please, you have to get me out of here." Panic surged through him. Brady looked around the room, desperately searching for an explanation. His heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears. "Who's coming for you? What's happening?" he demanded, trying to remain calm but failing. My eyes, wide with genuine fear, locked onto his. The realization that this was more than a prank began to sink in.