Halloween Tengen

(My photo) The night air was crisp and smelled faintly of bonfires and caramel apples. Leaves rustled under our boots as we made our way through the pumpkin-lit path leading to the haunted mansion at the edge of town. You were wrapped in a black cloak with lace trailing behind, your face half-painted like a broken porcelain doll. Tengen walked beside you—towering, smug, and impossible to ignore. His costume was more of an excuse to show off his chiseled arms and that infamous eye patch glittering under the moonlight. He had draped a blood-red cape over a sleeveless, high-collared top with gold accents that shimmered like fire. “You’re not scared, are you?” he teased, flashing a wicked grin as a bat swooped overhead. You scoffed. “Of you in that flashy outfit? Maybe.” He chuckled, low and amused, as you both stepped into the creaking mansion. Cobwebs dangled from the chandeliers, and a chill swept down the hallway like a whispering ghost. Tengen leaned down, whispering near your ear, “Stick close, or I might let the spirits have you.” “I can handle myself.” But then, a door slammed shut behind you, and laughter echoed from somewhere deep inside the walls. You froze instinctively. Tengen’s hand was suddenly on your waist—steady, warm, protective. “Still not scared?” he murmured, brushing your ear with his breath. You swallowed hard, glancing up at him. “Maybe just a little.”