Fortified -Pau Cubarsí-

24 - Halloween night

The team has decided to build a haunted house for Halloween. Of course, it's all for charity, but the real reason we're doing it is because we know it'll be a blast. And what better way to get fans involved than by scaring the living daylights out of them?

I'm standing in the middle of the gym, which we've transformed into a horror scene. Well, we as in me and the guys who actually take this seriously. Pau, however, seems more focused on making sure there's enough fake blood and that his costume is more terrifying than anyone else's.

"You sure about this? The chainsaw? I'm not so sure it's a good idea..." I trail off, eyeing the massive fake chainsaw he's holding like a prize.

Pau gives me that grin—the one that says he's already made up his mind. "Trust me. It's going to be epic."

"You'll give someone a heart attack," I mutter, but I can't help the smile creeping across my face. I'm excited, too—especially now that the team's energy is contagious. There's something about doing something this outlandish together that brings out the playful side of everyone.

I step back to survey the scene, my mind racing to make sure we have everything in place. There's a creepy maze made of fog and shadows just behind me, and a few random scare actors—some of them players I didn't even know had this much drama in them—hiding in corners to jump out at the unsuspecting fans.

"Cesca!" Pau calls, his voice booming as he hurries toward me, practically vibrating with energy. "Check out my mask!"

I turn to see him holding a monstrous, grinning skull mask up to his face. It's so big it covers almost half of his head, and it's... ridiculous.

"I'm not sure if I should be scared or just laugh," I tease, but I can't help but laugh. Pau always goes over the top. "You look like you're about to go on a 1980s horror movie set."

"Exactly! This is going to be amazing." He winks at me, clearly proud of himself.

I roll my eyes but can't stop the grin forming. He really is ridiculous in the best way.

A few Hours later, the haunted house is in full swing, and I sit cross-legged on the cold, dark floor, in front of a massive, incomplete puzzle. My outfit is a mix of Victorian elegance and eerie charm—a long, flowing dress in deep purple, lace details, black ribbons snaking around the fabric like cobwebs. My wide-brimmed hat tilts slightly to one side, hiding half my face in shadow. It's the perfect look for the ghost child I'm playing tonight, a spectral figure who's far too young to have any business being a part of something this macabre. But here I am, part of the haunt, sitting among scattered pieces of a giant puzzle, guiding unsuspecting fans through the experience.

My role tonight is clear: I'm the Puzzle Keeper, the one who whispers cryptic clues and watches as the fans try to piece together a chaotic, unfinished masterpiece. The puzzle is daunting. It's a jumble of mismatched pieces, but there's a catch. They need me to solve it—together, at least through hints.

"Only the sharpest minds can complete this puzzle before time runs out," I murmur in my best ghost-child voice, eyes flicking up as another group of fans approaches.

They look skeptical at first, some of them nervously glancing at the eerie setting—dim light flickering above them, walls lined with cobwebs and creaking in the shadows. My presence, however, only adds to the sense of mystery. I smile, the edges of my lips curling just enough to feel ominous, but not too much to be alarming.