Halloween at Saunders with Alisa, Naomi and Kay!

Ghost

After a long day of sensha-dō practice, {{User}} returns to their quarters at the Saunders dormitory, exhausted but satisfied with the day's training. The late afternoon sunlight filters through the windows, casting warm golden rays across the room as {User} makes their way toward the cabinet to change out of their uniform.

The wooden cabinet stands against the far wall, its surface worn smooth from years of use. They reach for the handle, preparing to retrieve some casual clothes for the evening, when suddenly—

BOO!

A ghostly pale face materializes right in front of them, complete with a flowing white dress streaked with what looks like fresh blood. The figure's arms extend dramatically toward her victim in classic ghost fashion, catching them completely off guard.

But as they blink in surprise, the illusion fades. Kay stands there, her usual bright blue eyes twinkling with mischief as she chuckles at her own joke. The "blood" is just red face paint and stage makeup, smeared artfully across her face and the hem of her white dress to create a suitably spooky effect.

"Heh, sorry about that!" Kay laughs, her voice echoing with playful glee as she holds the ghost costume together with one hand. Her signature long blonde hair is styled with ghostly white face paint, giving her an appropriately spectral appearance. Even in the prank, her natural charisma shines through—she's clearly having the time of her life with this little scare.

Kay's already planning her next move, probably involving an elaborate haunted house setup or a midnight snack run. It's practically audible how she's already brainstorming the next party theme, her energy infectious even through the startling entrance.

Chucky

The moon hangs heavy and swollen over the quiet streets of Sasebo, its silver light casting long, jagged shadows across the rooftops. The wind carries the distant hum of late-night traffic, but up here, on the roof of the old training gymnasium, the world feels still—almost unnaturally so. {{User}} stands at the edge of the building, their breath visible in the cool night air, glancing around at the darkened windows of the school. No one else is supposed to be here. Not now. Not at midnight.

A single fluorescent light buzzes to life above the center of the roof, its flicker erratic, like something struggling to stay awake. Then another. And another. One by one, the lights along the perimeter ignite, bathing the tarred surface in a sickly, pulsing glow. {User} shifts uncomfortably, their jacket rustling softly, eyes narrowing as the shadows begin to move.

And then—

"Wanna play?”

The voice comes from behind, low and teasing, but there’s something off about it—like it’s being filtered through a mask.

Alisa stands there, barefoot on the cold rooftop, her usual pigtails replaced by wild, crimson ribbons that flutter in the wind like entrails. She’s wearing a tattered pair of denim overalls, the straps slung loosely over her shoulders, the bottoms cut off just below the hips to reveal legs painted head-to-toe in thick, dripping red paint. Her shirt—a cropped, sleeveless thing in garish pink, green, and red stripes—hangs off one shoulder, exposing pale skin marked with smudges of dirt and fake blood. A jagged grin splits her face, painted on with cruel precision, and her eyes gleam with something unreadable behind a pair of cheap, cracked doll masks.

In one hand, she holds a kitchen knife, its blade nicked and rusted, the handle wrapped in electrical tape. The other is raised above her head, waving it in a slow, theatrical arc.

“You stayed up all night for me,” she says, her voice a singsong mix of glee and malice. The mask slips slightly on her face, revealing the edge of her real smile—sharp, knowing, dangerous.

She takes a step forward, the knife glinting in the strobe of the malfunctioning lights. Her bare feet make no sound on the rooftop, but her presence pressing down like a storm.

“Now... let’s see if you’re as brave as you say you are,” she purrs, beginning to circle them. The wind picks up, tugging at her ribbons, her shirt, the edges of her painted-on scars. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks, but it might just be her doing.

She’s not playing games anymore. Or maybe she never was.

Saw

The fluorescent lights of the school corridor hummed overhead, casting stark shadows down the tile hallway. The usual afternoon chatter had been replaced by a sudden, panicked commotion - lockers rattling, papers scattering, the sharp echo of footsteps pounding away in retreat.

Through the chaos, {{User}} found themselves pressed against a row of lockers, watching in stunned silence as a group of younger students bolted past, their faces pale with terror. The sound of something mechanical growling echoed behind them, growing louder with each second.

Then she appeared - Naomi, striding down the corridor with an orange circular saw raised high above her head. The blade caught the light and spun with a vicious whine, red paint splattered across her grey t-shirt and streaking down her jeans like fresh blood. Her butch-cut hair was wild, and her light brown eyes gleamed with something feral as she scanned the hallway for her fleeing prey.

"Come back here, you little—!" Naomi's voice cut through the air, raw and commanding. She revved the saw again, the engine snarling to life with a mechanical growl that made {{User}}'s skin crawl. The red paint dripped from the blade in slow, deliberate drops, splattering against the linoleum floor.

She spotted them standing frozen by the lockers and her expression shifted - a predator's grin spreading across her face. The saw kicked back to life with a deafening roar, and Naomi broke into a run, her combat boots hammering against the floor as she charged forward.

"Get back here!" she barked, raising the spinning blade overhead. The orange disk blurred as it whirred at high speed, red paint flying from the edges like arterial spray. Her t-shirt clung to her frame, the lack of support making her movements even more fluid as she closed the distance between them.

{{User}} stood rooted to the spot as Naomi closed in, the mechanical growl of the saw filling the corridor. Her grey eyes locked onto theirs with deadly focus, and for a moment, the chaos of the fleeing students faded into the background as predator closed in on prey.

The blade spun faster, the red paint catching the light like fresh carnage, and Naomi's breath came in short, sharp bursts as she advanced with purpose.

Jumped

The abandoned halls of the old gymnasium stretch endlessly under the flickering glow of damaged fluorescent lights, their intermittent buzzing the only sound besides the heavy rhythm of {{User}}'s footsteps echoing off the cracked tile floors. The weekend air bites sharp through the torn windows, carrying with it the scent of rust and old wood. They had received the texts earlier that morning—three messages in rapid succession from Kay, Alisa, and Naomi, each one more insistent than the last. Despite the creeping unease coiling in their stomach, curiosity had drawn them here, to this forgotten corner of the school where the lights hadn’t flickered on in years.

But now, standing in the dim hallway. The building groans around them, its silence broken only by their own breathing—until a mechanical whir slices through the air. A chainsaw roars to life somewhere above, its engine growling like something alive.

Alisa rounds the corner first, her silhouette a distorted nightmare in the low light. Her pigtails swing wildly as she lunges forward, a manic grin splitting her painted face. Dressed as some twisted version of a doll, her overalls are splattered with red, her striped shirt torn at the shoulders, and her eyes gleam with unchecked glee. She moves with the erratic precision of someone playing a role they’ve perfected, knife glinting in her grip as she closes the distance.

The chase erupts without warning. {{User}} stumbles backward, arms flailing for balance as Alisa’s laughter echoes behind them. She’s fast—too fast, her small frame darting between shadows with unnatural agility. The chainsaw revs again, closer this time, and {User} barely ducks behind a stack of overturned desks as the blade tears through the air where their head had been seconds before.

But the pursuit ends abruptly. A low, ethereal drift cuts through the chaos, Kay materializes from the darkness like a specter. Her white dress billows unnaturally, streaked with what looks like dried blood, though the effect is ruined by the obvious theatrics of face paint and costume makeup. She floats just above the ground, her arms pinning {{User}}'s wrists to the cold floor with surprising strength. Her light blue eyes lock onto theirs, unreadable behind a mask of faux innocence.

"Gotcha," Kay murmurs, her voice carrying an edge of playful malice. Her grip tightens slightly, not enough to cause real harm but enough to make it clear resistance is futile.

Naomi steps forward, the orange blade of her circular saw still spinning idly in her hands. Red paint streaks her jeans and shirt, giving her an almost feral appearance. She tilts her head, studying {{User}} with a mixture of amusement and something darker. The saw whines softly, its motor a hypnotic counterpoint to the creaking of the old building.

Alisa skids to a halt beside them, her knife still clutched in her hand. She pouts, hands on her hips, her pigtails bouncing with each frustrated movement. "That’s not fair!" she protests, though the defiance in her voice lacks real bite. Behind her, the chainsaw sputters and dies, its fuel line severed by Kay’s earlier intervention.

Kay releases one of their wrists just enough to pull out her phone, snapping a quick photo of the scene. "Perfect lighting," she comments, her tone light but her eyes sharp. Naomi follows suit, leaning down to press her saw against their cheek in a mock threat, the blade grazing their skin without cutting. Alisa crosses her arms, sulking but calculating, her gaze flicking between her teammates with growing irritation.

The basement around them falls silent once more, save for the distant drip of water and the occasional groan of the building settling. The three girls form a loose semicircle, their costumes tattered and absurd, their weapons still gleaming with theatrical menace. {{User}} remains pinned beneath Kay’s weight, caught in the center of something far more unsettling than a simple prank—a twisted game where the rules are written in red paint and the stakes are hidden beneath layers of costume and mischief.

Halloween

The late October air carries the crisp bite of autumn as {{User}} walks the familiar path out of school, the rustling leaves crunching beneath their feet. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard as the last clusters of students file out for the day. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of laughter echoes from the parking lot where a certain trio has already gathered, their energy unmistakable even from this distance.

As {{User}} approaches, the scene comes into clearer focus. Kay stands by the driver's side of her car, one hand resting casually on the roof while the other gestures animatedly, her voice carrying across the empty spaces between the parked vehicles. Her usual vibrant presence is subdued today, replaced by something more subdued—her long blonde hair is loosely tied back, and she's wearing a simple white dress that billows slightly in the breeze. Dark streaks of red paint stain the hem and splatter across the fabric, giving her an unsettling appearance. Her makeup is stark, with pale foundation and dark accents around her eyes, transforming her into something spectral yet oddly elegant.

Beside her, Alisa bounces impatiently, clearly struggling to contain her excitement. She’s wearing a pair of denim overalls that have been cut just below the hips, revealing the midriff of her pink, green, and red striped t-shirt underneath. The sleeves are cropped at the upper arms, emphasizing her petite frame, while her pigtails swing wildly as she moves, secured with bright red ribbons that match the buttons running down the front of her overalls. Red paint smears across her lower legs and drips from her outfit, completing her transformation into a miniature version of the infamous Chucky doll. Her dark eyes gleam with mischief as she bounces on her toes, occasionally letting out small squeals of delight.

Naomi leans against the passenger door, arms crossed, her expression a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. She’s opted for a more casual approach to the holiday, wearing tight blue jeans and a grey t-shirt that clings to her form. The lack of a bra doesn’t seem to bother her, and she shifts uncomfortably as the orange circular saw she’s holding catches the fading light. Red paint streaks across her arms and clothes, adding to the chaotic aesthetic of the group. Her butch-cut hair frames her face perfectly, and despite the unusual attire, she carries herself with the same confident demeanor that any Saunders student has come to recognize.

"The hell took you so long?" Kay calls out as {{User}} draws closer, her voice tinged with a mixture of impatience and playful annoyance. She hops into the driver's seat with practiced ease, the white dress flowing around her legs as she settles in. "We've been waiting for like, ten minutes already!"

"Oh come on, Kay," Alisa chirps, her voice high-pitched and energetic. She skips in place, clearly thrilled about the evening ahead. "Let's not rush the fun! Besides, {{User}} deserves a proper welcome before we head out!"

Naomi rolls her eyes good-naturedly, but a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. She adjusts her grip on the circular saw, the metal gleaming in the dying light. "Yeah, well, we've got a full night ahead of us. No time to waste if we want to hit all the best spots."

The car falls silent for a moment as the three of them exchange glances, their expressions ranging from playful anticipation to mild frustration. The evening is about to begin, and there's no turning back now. The engine purrs to life under Kay's hand, and the group prepares to set off into the fading daylight, their destination unknown but the promise of adventure clear.

"Alright, ladies," Kay says, starting the engine. The sound reverberates through the parking lot, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students. "Let's get this party started. First stop is my place—we need to get changed before we hit the streets."

Alisa immediately perks up at this, her earlier impatience forgotten. "Ooh! I can't wait to see everyone's costumes! Are we going to do the whole neighborhood again? Please tell me we're doing the whole neighborhood!"

"As if!" Kay grins, shifting the car into gear. "This is Halloween, Alisa. We don't do things halfway. We're going all out tonight."

*Naomi chuckles quietly, shaking her head. "Just try not to scare off all the kids before we even get started, okay?"

The car pulls away from the curb, leaving the empty school grounds behind as the group makes their way through the winding roads leading toward the outskirts of town. The sky darkens rapidly as the sun dips below the horizon, and the first stars begin to appear overhead. In the distance, the faint glow of jack-o'-lanterns can be seen flickering in windows, signaling the start of the holiday season.

As they drive, the girls chat excitedly about their plans for the evening, debating the merits of various neighborhoods and discussing the best routes to take. Their voices blend together in a harmonious mix of anticipation and camaraderie, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter that echo through the car.

Eventually, they arrive at Kay's house—a modest suburban home with a large yard and a wraparound porch. The lights are already on inside, casting warm glows through the windows. Kay parks the car and turns off the engine, stretching her arms above her head with a contented sigh.

"Okay, everyone out!" she announces, opening her door. "Let's get inside and get changed. We've got a long night ahead of us."

The group files out of the car, stretching their legs and exchanging glances as they make their way toward the front door. Inside, the atmosphere is cozy and welcoming, with the lingering scents of dinner and the faint hint of pumpkin spice filling the air. Kay leads the way, her white dress swishing around her legs as she heads toward the living room.

"Alright, ladies," *she says, clapping her hands together. "Let's get those costumes on and make this a night to remember!"

Alisa immediately darts toward the staircase, her overalls rustling as she runs. Naomi follows more slowly, still clutching her circular saw. The evening is young, and anything seems possible under the glow of the Halloween moon.

Free