Our friend Sasha is planning on being a naughty girl this Halloween. Let's check in with her and see what she is up to, shall we?
“Where the hell is it?” Sasha groaned as she flung t-shirts, pants, and shoes behind her. They flew out of the closet, landing in a heap on the bedroom floor. “Angela, have you seen my costume?”
“Yeah.” Angela called from the next bedroom. “I think I saw it lying on the couch, downstairs.”
Sasha poked her head out of the closet, her face scrunched up in confusion. “Well, what the hell is it doing down there?”
“I don’t know. Just hurry up, Sash. Remember, we still need to check in at the hotel. The party starts in a few hours, and I wanna get there before all the hot guys are taken.”
Sasha groaned inwardly and rushed out of the closet, almost tripping over the fresh pile of clothes as she made for the stairs. Looking over the banister, she spotted the costume in the living room, lying across the arm of their maroon leather couch. Boose, her long-haired, black and white cat, had perched herself on top of the white chiffon dress.
“Boose! No! Get off of that.”
The cat stood up, arched her back, and began wheezing and gagging.
Sasha thundered down the carpeted steps, but was already too late. She cringed as the cat vomited a disgusting gray hairball. It made a sickening wet plop as it hit the pristine white fabric.
“No!” she wailed.
Boose pawed at the fresh glob of regurgitated fur, as if trying to cover it up, her sharp claws ripping small holes into the gauzy fabric.
“Now you’ve done it,” Sasha shrieked, tearing down the last few steps. “Freaking little bulimic kitty! Go on, get away from that.” She waved her arms wildly, shooing the cat away.
Boose looked up with wide green eyes and gave Sasha an annoyed mew before jumping down onto the ground.
“What’s going on down there?” Angela called from the upstairs landing.
“It’s ruined!” Sasha cried, throwing her arm ups in the air in defeat. “My dress. My beautiful costume… it’s wrecked.”
“Boose again? You need to take that cat to the vet. She’s been puking on everything lately. Oh, and by the way, you still owe me for the shoes she ruined.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sasha’s shoulders slumped. She groaned and bent to pick up the soiled dress, her Aphrodite costume for the party. “Now what am I going to wear?”
Boose snaked in between Sasha’s legs. Her fluffy bottle-brush tail swayed in the air behind her.
“Look what you did.” She showed the cat the mess she had made, as if the cat could understand that she had just destroyed her owner’s evening.
Boose mewed, arched her back, and rubbed against Sasha’s leg. She purred and flopped on the ground, then rolled over to show her belly.
“Yeah, I get it… you’re sorry. But sorry doesn’t buy me a new dress for the party.”
Angela poked her head over the banister. “Quit whining down there.”
“Well, I can’t go now. I have nothing to wear.” Sasha looked up with desperation but couldn’t see past Angela’s mop of tight-spiraled ginger curls. They had swung forward like a cloak, concealing her friend’s face.
“Come on. I’m sure I’ve got something you can use. We’ll just have to improvise.” Angela turned away, disappearing from view.
Great. Hand-me-down, makeshift costume, here I come. “Be right up.”
Sasha stalked back up the stairs, carrying her soiled gown in a wrinkled ball, and walked into Angela’s cave-like room. Angela wasn’t the best housekeeper. Declaring her room a disaster area would have been an understatement. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado; clothes, purses, and accessories were strewn about haphazardly. The only semblance of order was her closet, which she had neatly stacked to the ceiling with boxes of shoes. Angela loved shoes. She was a collector, and not just high-priced stilettos either. She collected everything: boots, sandals, tennis shoes, and flip-flops. No shoe was too cheap or expensive. They all belonged in her collection. They were her treasures.
Sasha shook her head, watching as Angela rummaged through a pile of clothes as high as her four-drawer oak dresser. “You know, maybe this is a sign that I shouldn’t go tonight.”
“Bullshit! You’re going to have the time of your life.” Angela tossed clothes behind her as she searched feverishly for one particular item. “Ah ha!” She pulled out a black corset. “I have the perfect idea.” Angela flung the corset on top of her bed, then waded through a sea of clothes to another large pile near her window. “What do you think of leather?”
Sasha sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not doing the biker thing.”
“No. Not a biker. This is Halloween. You need something that fits the mood of the evening—dark and scary and dangerous, right? How about a sexy vampire hunter?”
“Vampire hunter? Seriously? Why not just a vampire?” Sasha smiled at the thought. She secretly liked the idea of playing vampire. They were, after all, her favorite creatures of the night, mystical and sexy. She’d often considered taking a trip to the famous House of Immortal Pleasures in Pahrump to meet some real ones, but she always chickened out at the last moment.
“We don’t have time to get you any fangs, silly. Now, where did I put those leather pants? Hmm…” Angela tapped her fingers on her chin and wrinkled her brow in thought and then rummaged though more piles of clothes.
“Great,” Sasha groaned. “I go from being Goddess of Love to Warrior Princess.” Sasha sighed as she picked through a pile of clothing. She had so much wanted to go to the party as Aphrodite. The white chiffon would have looked so nice under the black lights; it would have given her an ethereal glow. She had chosen it specifically to draw some attention to herself, maybe even land her a Greek god of her own to enjoy the night with. Now, as some generic Halloween-type character, Sasha feared she would just blend into the crowd.
Spotting a shiny pant leg peeking out from under the bed, she reached down and pulled up a pair of leather pants. “These?” she asked, holding them up over her head.
“Perfect. Put them on.” Angela stood and grabbed the corset from the bed and tossed it at her friend. “This too.”
Sasha retreated to her room to don her new costume, while Angela ran to her closet. No doubt looking for the perfect pair of Fuck-me boots to match.
As expected, and just as Sasha had squeezed herself into the tight leather pants, Angela came bursting into the room wearing a skimpy purple and black dress, spider web fishnet stockings, and a gaudy feather-rimmed witch’s hat. In her hands, she proudly displayed a pair of shiny black boots with sinfully high heels.
“Looking good, girl,” Angela said, setting the boots down on the ground. She walked around the bed and helped Sasha with the clasps on the back of the corset.
“Thanks,” Sasha said, sucking in a breath as the material pulled tight, cinching her waist.
Angela finished with the clasps and spun Sasha around. “Yep, definitely looking good, but… hmm… it just sorta needs something.”
“Yeah, like an over shirt.” Sasha crossed her arms over her chest. Her breasts struggled against the tight material, threatening to spill out with every breath. “I’m going to burst out of this thing. That’s all I need, a boob falling out while I am dancing.”
“Nah, that’s my lucky corset. It will hold the twins in place… until it’s time. Trust me.” She winked. “But you need something to draw some attention.”
“More attention?”
Angela sashayed around the room to the small wooden jewelry box on Sasha’s dresser. She picked through a few necklaces before extracting a large silver cross. “This will do nicely.” She turned and tossed the necklace at Sasha. “Here. put this on.”
Sasha caught the necklace and walked into to the bathroom to put it on and see how it looked in the mirror. The cross was large and the chain long, it fell right into her cleavage. That will definitely grab some attention.
“Finish getting ready and meet me downstairs. I’m gonna pack the car.”
“You made the reservations, right?”
“All taken care of. Two rooms are waiting for us”
“Two? Why two rooms?”
Angela poked her head into the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but I plan on finding a hot guy tonight. You really don’t want to share a room with me when that happens.” She turned and walked away, her voice trailing behind her, “C’mon. Hurry up.”
Sasha considered a snarky retort but thought better of it. She finished her makeup, pulled her long black hair into a sleek ponytail, and slipped on the high-heeled boots.
Instantly regretting her choice to wear the boots, she wobbled as if she were just learning to walk, trying to keep her balance on the thin heels, holding the handrail as she made her way down stairs. “How the hell am I supposed to dance in these things?” She mumbled as she stepped into the kitchen.
Angela was waiting for her. “Just one last piece of your costume,” she said, holding up a thick, broken, sandy-colored stick.
“What the hell is that?”
“Well, a vampire hunter has to have a wooden stake, right?”
“Wait… is that one of my good cooking spoons?”
“Um… Not anymore.” She gave Sasha a toothy grin. “Besides, when was the last time you cooked anything?”
Sasha snatched the makeshift stake out of Angela’s hands. “Let’s go. You owe me a spoon.”
“And you owe me a new pair of hairball-free shoes,” Angela snapped.
Sasha groaned and shoved the broken stick through one of her belt loops. She turned, still wobbly on her heels, and headed for the front door.
***
Dante admired the seemingly endless stream of people pouring out onto the dance floor from the double-door entrance: costumed characters, scantily clad vixens, masked marauders, the ghastly, and the gruesome.
It was Halloween at its finest.
Dante loved the annual Halloween Ball and enjoyed the ability to stalk his prey freely among the, all too willing, partygoers.
Smoke crawled across the ballroom floor. Black lights and flashing lasers cut through the swirling fog, creating an eerie multi-colored glow in the room. Chandeliers, covered in cobwebs, hung from the ceiling, while little plastic spiders bounced up and down, dangling on thin wires above the crowd.
The syncopated rhythm of drum and bass music filled the air, reverberating off the walls. Bodies moved, writhing in time with the beat. Dancers with glow sticks of various colors weaved patterns in the air with their liquid-like movements.
A hungry grin played across Dante’s face. He let his fangs show, proudly putting them on display as he nodded at a few passersby. They ignored his sharp-toothed smile as they wandered into the ballroom, not giving him so much as a second glance.
Whether they ignored him or not, Dante knew he looked every bit like a dark and mysterious creature of the night, only he wasn’t wearing a costume. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his midnight-blue carpenter jeans and tapped the tip of one of his steel-toed black boots on the ground as he impatiently awaited his brother’s arrival.
His phone buzzed, and he reached into the deep pockets of his black duster jacket to retrieve it. Words flashed on the screen: ‘Be there in a minute.’
Trevor is always late, he thought with a frustrated sigh.
Replacing the phone in his pocket, he gave himself one last once-over. In a normal crowd, he might have seemed odd—a dark and menacing figure, dressed in almost all black. Yet here, among the dancing throng of partygoers at this macabre party, he was one of the least conspicuously dressed.
A giggling group of girls wearing little more than string bikinis and gauzy wings pushed past him on their way to the dance floor. Dante inhaled their perfumed scent, savoring the fading notes of lavender left in their wake. If Trevor didn’t get there soon, he would begin the hunt alone.
A strong hand suddenly clapped him hard on the back.
“Tonight should be fun, eh, brother?” Trevor asked with a mischievous smile, flashing his own set of sharp fangs. He raked a hand through his mop of dark hair.
“My mouth is already watering.” Dante’s eyes zeroed in on a pair of entwined harem dancers, their bodies rubbing sensuously against each other in time with the music. He took in a deep breath, savoring the variety of pheromones playing at his senses. Sex was in the air, and Dante liked that. He absently flicked his fangs with his tongue as his mind played out scenarios of carnal passion and bloodlust—desires he planned to act on before the night was through. Blood and sex went hand and hand in his world, and the annual Halloween Fantasy and Fetish Ball always provided a buffet of both.
“Well then, let’s get this party started,” Trevor said, nudging his brother out of his reverie.
Dante turned, his eyes widening in astonishment as he inspected his twin. “Prince Charming? That’s your costume for this evening? Brother, you try too hard.”
Trevor smoothed out the fabric of the large, ornately adorned, navy blue suit-coat with gold tassels and shrugged. “At least I made some effort to play the part tonight.”
“Ah yes. I’m sure your ruffled shirt will send the girls into a frenzy.” Dante laughed. “There is no need to play, brother. We are vampires. Our costumes are built in. Why bother dressing up in some ridiculous outfit?”
“Because I enjoy taking part in the fantasy. It’s fun. You should try it.”
“I don’t need silly costumes to have my fun.” He narrowed his eyes as he inspected Trevor, and then leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “And Prince Charming doesn’t have fangs.”
Trevor’s hand rose to cover his mouth. “Well, I can’t very well get rid of them, can I? But, no matter. I’ll have my prey focused on other things. She won’t see them until it’s time.” He winked.
Dante arched an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “Enjoy your game then, brother.”
Trevor turned confidently on his heel and waved a hand behind him. “Happy hunting.”
Dante stood still for a moment, taking in all the scents of the humans around as he watched Trevor vanish into the sea of dancing bodies. Hunger and need beat at him, and he was ready to satiate both desires. Oh yes, tonight will be fun.
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