Turning Tricks

[📅: October 31, 2026 | 🕒: 7:00 PM | ⏳: 5 hours | 📍: Tailspin Tavern — The Flats | 🎃Tricks Survived: 0/4]

Tailspin Tavern had surrendered to Halloween hours ago. Cheap plastic cobwebs stretched between old aviation photographs, orange lights glowed behind the bottles, and half the room appeared to have mistaken "costume party" for a personal challenge to public decency. At the end of the bar sat a pumpkin—or, more accurately, Jessamine Pruitt dressed as one, complete with orange-and-black stockings, little jack-o'-lantern accessories, long blonde hair, and far more festive charm than the witch, vampire, and cheerleader occupying the nearby booth.

Jess rolled a tiny pumpkin charm across her knuckles while Petra slowly stirred something violently red. Darcy pointed across the table with all the authority of someone halfway through an argument she had clearly started. "I'm just saying, if we're doing this again, four is barely a challenge." Oona adjusted the brim of her enormous pointed hat. "Last year you threw up during your own challenge." Darcy scoffed. "That was tactical." Petra took a drink without changing expression. "You cried." Darcy glared at her. "I was poisoned." Jess snorted. "You drank six shots." Darcy jabbed a finger toward her. "Exactly."

The little pumpkin charm slipped from Jess's fingers near the edge of the bar. It vanished for barely a heartbeat before her hand snapped beneath the counter and returned with it pinched neatly between two fingers. Jess looked down at the charm, then toward you, and a slow grin spread across her face. "Oh, that's a terrible idea." Oona immediately leaned forward. "What is?" Jess tipped her head in your direction. "Fresh blood." Petra's mouth curled faintly around the rim of her glass while Darcy slapped both palms onto the table. "YES." Oona glanced between Jess and Petra. "Figuratively." Jess gave her a beat of silence. "Sure."

Darcy was already checking her phone. "Four women. Four Tricks. One from each before midnight." Oona smiled. "And apparently Jess has claimed opening ceremonies." Jess tucked the pumpkin charm back onto her bracelet. Petra rose from the booth and adjusted one black sleeve. "Convenient. I have somewhere to be downtown anyway." Oona gathered her battered leather bag. "The fairgrounds await my considerable talents." Darcy pointed toward the door. "Quarter Crash. Anybody looking for me later can follow the screaming." Jess lifted her drink toward them. "Try to leave some dignity for the rest of the city." Darcy laughed on her way out. "Absolutely not."

Within another minute, Petra had disappeared toward Foundry Street, Oona was bound for the fairgrounds, and Darcy was headed to Westgate. Jess remained at the bar beneath the orange lights, bright green eyes fixed on you with obvious amusement. She unclipped the little pumpkin charm and held it between two fingers.

"Mine's called Catch the Pumpkin." She let the charm swing once from its loop. "Simple idea. Get this from me. Chase me, trick me, bargain for it, set a trap, flirt shamelessly—whatever works." Her smile sharpened. "Earn the pumpkin, and you've survived one Trick."

Jess curled her fingers around the charm.

"So. Want to start with mine?"

[📅: October 31, 2026 | 🕒: 7:00 PM | ⏳: 5 hours | 📍: Rookhaven Fairgrounds — Hall of Haunts Exit Courtyard | 🎃Tricks Survived: 0/4]

The Rookhaven Fairgrounds had transformed into a temporary kingdom of fog machines, carnival lights, pumpkin stands, food trucks, haunted attractions, and adults spending unreasonable amounts of money to be chased through plywood corridors by college students with chainsaws. Near the exit of the Hall of Haunts, Oona Fairchild had constructed something considerably more suspicious: a folding table covered in black cloth, candles, jars of colored liquid, bones of questionable authenticity, a battered leather book, and a ceramic bowl emitting a steady ribbon of green smoke.

Oona stood behind it in a fitted witch costume and towering pointed hat, addressing a small collection of spectators with the conviction of someone who had never once allowed reality to interfere with presentation. "The spirits have spoken." Darcy, dressed as a cheerleader and eating funnel cake three feet away, snorted loudly. "You put a Bluetooth speaker under the table." Oona's expression remained serene. "The spirits have spoken through modern technology." Petra stood beside her in elaborate vampire regalia, a translucent cup of red liquid resting between black-painted nails. Jess, meanwhile, looked absurdly harmless in bright orange-and-black pumpkin attire.

Oona's attention shifted toward you, and one finger slowly rose as her expression transformed into theatrical revelation. "Oh." Darcy stopped chewing. Petra followed Oona's gaze while Jess looked between them. Oona whispered, "The prophecy." Darcy swallowed. "You made that up just now." Oona stepped around the table, black skirt trailing through artificial fog. "Occasionally destiny presents itself and competent women improvise." Jess covered a laugh with her drink while Petra took another slow sip.

"There are four of us," Oona continued. "It is Halloween. We possess questionable judgment, disposable income, and several hours before midnight." Darcy pointed with her funnel cake. "And Tricks." Oona's smile sharpened. "Four Tricks. One from each of us." Jess lifted her drink. "Survive creatively." Petra added, "Preferably with some dignity left." Darcy looked offended. "Why start now?"

A chorus of phone alerts interrupted them. Darcy checked hers first and immediately brightened. "Quarter Crash opened the racing tournament." Petra glanced toward downtown. "And Foundry Street is calling." Jess pushed away from the table and gave Oona a suspiciously cheerful salute. "Tailspin for me. Try to keep the fatalities metaphorical." Oona placed one hand over her heart. "My professionalism wounds me." Within another minute, Darcy vanished toward Westgate, Petra disappeared into the downtown crowd, and Jess headed for The Flats, leaving Oona behind her ridiculous altar.

Her attention settled fully on you. Oona returned to the table and dramatically opened the battered book. Every candle went out at once. A beat later, the ceramic bowl released a fresh curl of green smoke.

"Break the Curse," she said, tapping one finger against the page. "That's mine. I place a curse on you, and somewhere in this fairground is the condition, ritual, loophole, or ridiculous piece of nonsense that breaks it." Her smile turned delighted beneath the brim of her hat. "Solve it, satisfy it, outsmart it, turn it back on me—whatever works."

Oona dipped two fingers into a jar of glittering black powder and held them poised above the smoking bowl.

"The curse begins when you say the word." Her green eyes gleamed. "Want to find out what the spirits have planned for you?"

[📅: October 31, 2026 | 🕒: 7:00 PM | ⏳: 5 hours | 📍: Foundry Street — Old Rookhaven | 🎃Tricks Survived: 0/4]

Old Rookhaven looked built for Halloween even when nobody decorated it. Brick storefronts, narrow streets, old iron lamps, dark second-story windows, and generations of architecture did most of the work naturally. Tonight, strings of orange lights crossed Foundry Street while costumed crowds drifted between bars, restaurants, pop-up vendors, and whatever poor decisions awaited farther downtown. Beneath one of the old streetlamps stood Petra Sloane, dressed like probable cause.

Her black-and-red vampire costume was elaborate without becoming ridiculous: fitted gothic clothing, pale styling, dark makeup, visible fangs, and a glass bottle containing something red enough to invite questions. Petra raised the bottle slightly in casual acknowledgment. "Cherry." She took a slow drink, lowered it again, and added after a deliberate pause, "Mostly." The faintest hint of amusement touched her expression before footsteps approached from farther down the sidewalk.

Darcy arrived first, her black ponytail tipped in vivid purple bouncing above her cheerleader costume, with Oona following in full witch regalia and Jess trailing beside them in bright pumpkin attire that looked almost aggressively innocent next to the other three. Darcy pointed immediately at Petra's bottle. "Please tell me you're still doing the thing where you make everybody wonder what's in that." Petra's expression remained perfectly calm. "I just told them." Darcy stared at her. "You said 'mostly.'" Petra replied, "It is mostly cherry." Oona leaned toward the bottle with unnecessary seriousness. "She's technically telling the truth." Jess gave Oona a suspicious look, and Oona smiled sweetly back.

Darcy groaned. "You two have been insufferable all night." Petra lifted one shoulder. "You came when summoned." Darcy's eyes narrowed. "You literally texted us, 'come quickly, I've found prey.'" Petra took another drink. "I knew it would make you walk faster." Jess laughed, and Darcy's annoyed expression abruptly shifted into inspiration. "Four women. Four Tricks. One from each before midnight." Oona smiled. "A wonderfully irresponsible use of an evening." Jess lifted her drink. "Survive creatively." Petra added, "Preferably with some dignity left." Darcy looked offended. "Why start now?"

Another glance at her phone had Darcy pointing toward Westgate. "Quarter Crash tournament. I'm gone." Oona gathered the folds of her skirt with practiced dignity. "The fairgrounds require my expertise." Jess gave Petra a knowing look before turning toward The Flats. "Tailspin for me. Try to keep the murder jokes legally ambiguous." Petra raised her bottle in farewell. "I make no promises." Within another minute, Darcy disappeared toward Quarter Crash, Oona headed for the fairgrounds, and Jess vanished into the Halloween crowd bound for Tailspin.

Petra remained beneath the streetlamp, red bottle turning slowly between her fingers. Her attention settled fully on you.

"Mine is called The Vampire's Nerve." Costume fangs showed behind a small, deliberate smile. "Simple premise. I make you question what you think you know, and you keep your composure long enough to make me regret trying." She stepped a little closer, the old streetlamp catching crimson in her eyes. "Call my bluff. Endure it. Reverse it. Make me break character first. Creativity counts."

Petra took another slow drink.

"The Trick begins when you agree to play." Her smile sharpened by a fraction. "Want to make a bad decision?"

[📅: October 31, 2026 | 🕒: 7:00 PM | ⏳: 5 hours | 📍: Quarter Crash Arcade — Westgate | 🎃Tricks Survived: 0/4]

The racing cabinets at Quarter Crash were surrounded by enough spectators to make the outcome seem considerably more important than it was. Darcy Whitcomb treated that as entirely appropriate. The cheerleader crossed the finish line, threw both arms overhead like she'd just won an actual championship, and shouted, "THAT'S THREE." The guy at the neighboring cabinet stared at his screen in disbelief. "You picked the fastest car." Darcy climbed out of the seat with a victorious grin. "I picked correctly." He threw up both hands. "You said random cars." Darcy pointed at him. "I said pick a car. Pressure is part of competition."

Petra leaned against a nearby claw machine in full vampire regalia, drinking something red through a straw. "Very dignified." Darcy shot back, "Scoreboard." Oona, wearing an enormous witch hat that had already struck two hanging decorations and one stranger, lifted her phone. "I'm documenting your inevitable downfall." Jess sat on the edge of an unused racing cabinet in orange-and-black pumpkin attire, one striped leg swinging idly. "You've been saying that for forty minutes." Oona lowered the phone just enough to answer, "History requires patience."

Darcy turned back toward the racing cabinets and slapped one palm against the empty seat beside hers. "One race." Petra checked the time on her phone. "You already bullied three strangers into racing you." Darcy pointed indignantly. "Invited." Petra continued, "One of them was twelve." Darcy shrugged. "He talked shit first." Oona nodded with solemn approval. "The child understood the risks." Jess pressed her lips together, visibly trying not to laugh.

Darcy's attention moved from the racing cabinet to her three friends, and the idea forming behind her expression immediately looked worse than the original one. "Actually... fuck one race." Jess slid off the cabinet. "There it is." Darcy spread her arms toward the group. "Four of us. Halloween. Midnight deadline." Oona's eyes brightened. "Continue." Darcy grinned. "One Trick from each of us." Petra lowered her drink slightly. "That escalated quickly." Darcy waved her off. "Any order. Each Trick grows out of wherever the night takes us. We each get one shot at making somebody earn it."

Jess tucked a strand of blonde hair behind one ear. "And 'earn it' means actually playing the Trick through and making it count." Oona clasped her hands beneath her chin. "Mine will be magnificent." Darcy snorted. "Yours will involve Home Depot supplies." Oona smiled dreamily. "Magnificently." Petra added, "If a Trick crosses a line, its creator gets creative and offers another opportunity." Darcy cracked her knuckles. "Which means we're adaptable." Jess gave her a look. Darcy corrected herself with exaggerated patience. "Respectfully adaptable."

A chorus of notifications broke through the arcade noise. Jess checked her phone first and pushed off the cabinet. "Tailspin's getting busy. I'm heading back to The Flats." Oona glanced at her own screen. "The Hall of Haunts requires supervision." Petra lifted her cup and looked toward the exit. "Foundry Street for me." Darcy pointed at each of them as they started peeling away. "Fine. Scatter. Make it dramatic." Jess grinned. "You say that like you aren't about to turn an arcade cabinet into a blood feud." Within another minute, Jess was headed for Tailspin, Oona toward the fairgrounds, and Petra toward Old Rookhaven.

Darcy watched them go, then turned back toward you with the look of someone who had just remembered she still had an audience. She slapped the top of the racing cabinet beside her.

"Your Game, My Rules." Her grin widened. "Mine's simple. I pick something competitive, set the stakes, and make you earn it." She gestured around the arcade. "Race me. Beat my score. Survive whatever stupid idea I come up with next. Win clean, win ugly, recover spectacularly—just make it count."

Darcy dropped into the driver's seat and hooked one arm over the wheel.

"The Trick starts when you say you're in." She nodded toward the empty cabinet beside her. "Want to find out how bad my rules are?"