The world of humans, and the world of monsters. Separate dimensions, but close enough to influence the other. Monsters know of humans and their order and culture, but humans know only legends of the other, tales that gave only glimpses as to what monsters were truly like. They were meant to be apart, but when humans most believed those chilling stories, it was possible for doorways to open, miraculously and spontaneously. When monsters seeped into the human world, and when humans went missing in the shadows, it could only mean that it was Halloween.

“Grroooghhhaaaa!!” A dry, deathly drone.

“Aiieyy!!” A sharp scream, short-- “Damn it, Devin! Stop, bro!”

The zombie laughed, despite being pushed square in the gut by the vampire. He held his oversized plastic head as he chortled, a mask of green skin, sunken eyes, and a bandaged brow. When his laughing could not cease, the vampire pushed him again with an audible grunt. “Chill, Cammy! It’s just some holiday cheer!” Devin said, guarding his stomach from another blow.

“You’re not even being scary!” Cammy argued, returning to her walk forward in a huff. “Just jumping up at people isn’t scary, Halloween or not.”

“Hah, and you’re the expert on scary, right?” Devin teased, following close behind her. He jokingly pulled up on Cammy’s long black cape, only to have it ripped from his grasp when she tugged it away. “Cool costume, but you’re not very spooky as a butler.”

“I’m dressed as Dracula,” Cammy specified, stretching out her arms to show off her late-1800s attire and her slicked black hair. “The old school vampire. And, pfft, what? Am I supposed to be frightened by you?” She pointed over Devin’s costume, or lack thereof; besides the mask, all that he wore was normal, from his university t-shirt to his blue jeans. “I’m more frightened of your girlfriend. For different reasons.”

“Wow! What’s wrong with my costume?!” Another woman’s voice jumped into the conversation, a few trees back the way the two had come. Sneaking out from behind the oak was a blonde woman donning a simple headpiece of cat ears and with black streaks for whiskers on each cheek. “I’m just a black cat-- what did I do wrong?”

“A tailless black cat,” Cammy said, turning to continue the way she was headed. “And the whiskers? Don’t even get me started, Felicia.”

Devin lifted his mask above his face, enough so that he could see his girlfriend clearly. “Felicia, you coming too? Or were you just trying to scare me?”

“Uhh, heh. Maybe both?” Felicia joined Devin’s side, playfully hitting his hips with her own. After a passing kiss, Felicia giggled and pulled the mask back over his face. “I still think you’re scary, babe!”

Cammy rolled her eyes while she was a distance ahead of the couple. “Okay, if you’re coming, then come.” She waved at them impatiently, still going deeper into the woods. “I was trying to get away from the noise, so maybe tone it down a little?”

Not wanting to be separated from their ride home, Felicia and Devin jogged up to where Cammy led them through the night. They were friends from the same dorm that had gone together to a Halloween party being held out in the woods. It was an out-of-the-way location where college kids could celebrate as hard as they liked, but the rowdiness of such a party had been severely underestimated. Where Cammy had hoped she would have a chance to show off her love for classical vampires via her intricate Dracula costume, she instead arrived at the usual frat boy festivities, an environment not close to her liking. Rather than dawdle at a party she had no interest in, she chose to branch out on her own, off towards the river she knew was at the other end of the woods.

Ssss-pop. A bottle was opened, its cap heard dropping onto fallen leaves at their feet. Cammy glanced behind herself, catching Devin with his mask lifted again, a beer bottle snuck in from under the zombie neck “Dev, haven’t you drank enough? You really needed to cop some?”

“It’s just the one, Mom,” Devin chuckled. Ssss-pop. Behind him, Felicia had dug in his backpack and retrieved her own beer. Devin looked back to Cammy, “One for each of us, I mean.”

Cammy shrugged, continuing her march forward diligently. She had traveled through the woods before and knew her location well. They were not far from the river bank as they had just reached the old junkyard, a jagged lot of land that had been an uncontrolled dump-spot for old cars, appliances, and stray garbage. Ironically, it was refreshing to have made it that far, free from the looming canopy of barren branches with a clear view of the moon overhead.

“Are we in a dump?” Felicia bubbled, having never been that far into the woods before. She tugged on Devin’s sleeve, “Devin, why did Cammy take us to a dump…?”

Cammy snickered, “I thought your costume would fit right in.”

“Wow! That was so mean!” Felicia giggled. “You’re just jealous that your costume isn’t sexy…”

“Sexy vampires are so overdone,” Cammy said. “But I guess less so than sexy cat girls.”

“So! Mean!”

“Hey, she’s just playin’,” Devin interrupted, wrapping an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders. “You’re a sexy as hell cat girl, babe. Wanna take a photo?”

“Oooh, sure! This would be a good spot for a spooky pic…” Considering the aesthetics of the junkyard, Felicia stepped forward in search of an adequate location for a photo. Past the rusted-over trucks and beyond a pile of broken wood planks was a steep hill, the ledge of which stretched wide through the field. “Up there! Oh my god, with the moon in the background! That’s going to look so~ amazing!”

Before Devin even had sights on this ledge, Felicia was bounding ahead, drunkenly skipping over discarded bumpers and other mounds of debris. Devin followed after her, more staggered by the obstacles than her. None of this went without Cammy’s disapproval, but she was powerless to corral the tipsy couple -- rather than argue, she would let them be on their own, regardless if they kept up with her.

At the peak of the hill, however, Felicia’s trail of giggles ended. She was stunned, a pace backwards nearly causing her to fall down the hill. Ahead of where she stood half-ready to pose for a picture, she looked down at something on the other side.

Partway up, Devin realized that Felicia’s energy had disappeared. “Hey? What’s going?” he asked, still chuckling between breaths. He joined her side and asked again, “Babe? What’s up?”

Felicia stuttered, but her answer was just a point downwards. Devin wrestled with his mask until he could trace the finger’s direction, down into a pit that the hillside had hidden. He gasped immediately as the shape of what was so startling was eerily recognizable. Though mostly veiled as a silhouette, what he and Felicia saw was unmistakable: a woman laying on her back, garbed in a dark and tattered robe, and scaled to an outstanding size. Easily a hundred feet tall by either’s estimate, it was a true giant of a person, unmoving and undisturbed.

“Is this… i-is this for real?” Felicia asked, choking on a nervous laugh. “D-Did someone make this…?”

“Yoo~” Devin trekked forward a pace, wary to not slip down the loose dirt. “I think it might be a real… person.”

Felicia tilted her head and clutched her beer with both hands. “... Should we wake her up?”

“Uhh,” Devin exhaled, “I dunno…”

Still at the bottom of the hill, Cammy sat against a bent fence post, her arms crossed impatiently. She checked the time off her phone and groaned, “Guys… Are you done up there?” She looked up, noticing Felicia and Devin lingering at the ledge without movement -- until she saw Felicia dip out of sight. Cammy scoffed, “Just take the picture and let’s go!”

Despite the call to return, Devin followed after Felicia, both clumsily sliding down the slope towards their discovery. Felicia was alive with newfound amusement, moving more quickly than Devin and his skepticism, but both were nonetheless curious of the mysterious giant. They were amazed by every huge detail, but whereas Felicia had the pep to climb up an arm at the side of the giant, Devin was halted with questions, deciding first to touch the especially pale stretch of skin.

“Damn, she’s cold!” Devin exclaimed, pulling his hand back in fright. “Fuck, Felicia… I think she’s dead.”

“Oh my god, you might be right…” Felicia said, seemingly unbothered by this conclusion, since she still scaled the giant’s side up to her ribs. “I don’t even feel a heartbeat…Yeah,” Felicia giggled, hands on her hips, “this has to be fake!”

“Fake? Man… I dunno--”

“Come up here, come on!” Felicia begged, holding a hand out low to urge Devin upwards. “Come check this out with me, baby!”

Not one to spoil anyone’s fun, Devin tagged along, slowly melting through his hesitations as he climbed up the giant’s gothic dress. Though mostly convinced that this was some sort of abandoned prop or machine, they were surprised with how soft the surface of such a thing was, the stomach in particular sinking their footsteps like real flesh would. Once past that uncanny sensation, however, Felicia felt drawn towards another part of the still giant’s body.

“Look. At her. Boobs.” Felicia pointed at the bosom, each breast rounding taller than they could stand. Devin chuckled, but the drunker Felicia was bent over her knees with laughter, “Look! They’re fucking huge!”

“Hah, y-yeah,” Devin bashfully agreed. The rack was certainly captivating with how it was displayed; a steeply low collar gave way to the bare skin of her breasts, nearly as exposed as her naked shoulders. A corset was worn underneath, the frilled edges of which were just barely peeking out from the dress that ended in tears at the thighs, where intricate leggings then covered the rest of the slender legs.

While Devin surveyed this grand body in a trance, Felicia threw herself into her own fun. She hollered excitedly, earning back Devin’s attention. With a whipping turn, he caught his girlfriend leaping into the breasts, still enraptured by their existence. He reached a distant hand out to stop her, but she was enthralled with how her body was lodged in the bouncy cleavage, spewing over with laughter as the flesh gave in to her weight.

“Felicia, seriously!” Devin hissed, a wobbled step forward making him trip to a knee -- his foot had been unexpectedly snagged by the belly button. As a result, he dropped his beer, which rolled down the giant’s side in a spilling tumble. “Felicia, a-are you sure…?”

“This is so much fun!” Felicia rang, clambering up the hills of skin so that she could stand atop both on her knees. She turned back towards Devin and lifted her arms up in a weakly-balanced cheer. “Whoa, whoa… Ahahah! Devin, take the picture, take the picture!”

Baffling as it were to see someone -- let alone his partner -- posing like a cheerleader between a pair of giant breasts, Devin still cooperated, fumbling his phone into its camera mode so he could snap the desired shots. He still wished Felicia would come down, but if nothing else, he wanted decent evidence that this happened. Beneath his mask, he formed a dumb grin, thinking of how everyone at the party would react to something so otherworldly -- and enticing.

After having checked her phone for the seventh time as a distraction, Cammy’s patience had run up. She kicked the fence post with the back of her heel as she stepped towards the hill Devin and Felicia had vanished behind. “What is going on?” she called out, navigating around the remains of a totaled tractor. “Devin! Felicia! What’s even back there-- hoh?”

Cammy stopped when she heard a rumble from further ahead, the sound of dirt being shoved aside like something big was being unburied. She then assumed it was another antic from the couple, but as a second quake shivered the soil, it was followed by two gasped screams. The call Cammy was about to make was stuck in her throat, but without any other delay, she hurried past the littered obstacles and began clambering up the slope.

Before fully crossing over the ledge, Cammy was astonished with what was coming into view, nearly scared enough to fall back the way she climbed. It made no sense to her, but the image was unquestionably that of a woman rising out of a pit, her astounding size stunning Cammy into silence. The giant woman had lifted her upper body a notch up from the ground, yet her risen height still stretched taller than the hills around her. Cammy was overwhelmed, barely able to note the deathly color of her skin, the crimson hair that poured over her shoulders, and the matching eyes whose ruby color was transfixed at a person sprawled over her bosom -- “Felicia!” Cammy gasped.

The cat-costumed girl clawed at the fabric of the giant’s dress as it craned upward, pulling and grabbing at the plush skin to keep herself from tumbling down. She made stuttered calls for help, but even in this panic, she bubbled with drunken giggles spurred by the thrill of movement. However, when her eyes met with those of the massive face bearing overhead, all humor ceased, and Felicia fell quiet under the spell cast by this creature’s fang-tipped smirk.

“... Mortals?” the giant muttered, her whisper unignorable by those witnessing her. Her eyes flicked to Devin, who had scrambled backwards to her lap when she first felt her shifting. More alerting to her was Felicia gripping her chest, the relatively doll-sized woman earning more of her attention. She carried a heavy hand to where Felicia kicked, held just shy under her. “Peculiar… I must have awakened in the human realm…”

“H-Human… realm…?” Felicia swallowed on what she repeated, her focus split between how this titan could talk and how her hand was offered to her. A flush of awkwardness encouraged her to drop both feet onto the flattened palm, like stepping onto an elevator of skin. “A-Are you… real? L-Like, are you alive--? Wh-What are you…?!”

The giant snickered with a light and graceful expression. “So blissfully unknowing,” she quietly commented before lifting her chin proudly. “I am a countess of the night; a vampire, you might say. Ellia.”

The giggled reply came with a gravity that put Felicia onto her knees, prepared for the hand to move slightly higher. Cast into shivers, Felicia nervously chuckled along with Ellia, struggling to understand what was explained. “A v-vampire…? Like… Cammy…?” she wondered through her dizziness. “L-Like, the bloodsucking kind…?”

Ellia narrowed her gaze, her grin sparked sharper from the tickle that was Felicia’s innocence. “In some cases, yes,” she answered. “But… with mortals as little as you… there’s little need to drink.”

Too quickly for Felicia’s slowed reflexes did the hand under her coil into a tight fist. She coughed and spasmed into a terrified shriek, unable to loosen her arms out of Ellia’s grasp. Even in her drunken state, she could read clearly into her fate, made evident by the vampire licking her lips clean and revealing the dangerous set of teeth behind them. The deepness of the throat called to her; she was going to be eaten.

As fast as she had been restrained, the costumed woman was pushed into Ellia’s mouth. Felicia screamed into the tongue as it greeted her with haste, coating her in saliva even before the lips closed behind her. She kicked and punched blindly in the darkness, but always failed to surmount the tongue for long. “Devin! Devin!” she yelled, never having readied herself for such a bleak future -- what more could she beg for than her boyfriend’s help?

But Devin found himself powerless in this terrible situation. He yelled back at Felicia, hoping this would be revealed as some kind of prank, but he knew his partner’s cries to be frighteningly sincere. Yet, he could offer nothing to help her, all too aware that he had no control over a towering vampire -- a monster he still found incomprehensible. Rather than fight a losing battle, he thought to find help elsewhere, wherever that might be, but his escape backwards was foiled when Ellia lifted her knees to create a wall for him to stumble into.

“Hmhmhm~” Ellia hummed delightfully, pleased by both the taste in her mouth and the anxiety on her lap. Her eyes were locked on Devin’s quaking stance, unmoving as she dragged Felicia out from between her lips, her lithe fingers pinched around her ankles. The cat-dressed woman was dangled out of the mouth, persistently screaming, and with a strand of spit connecting her to her captor. “What did you two hope to accomplish?” Ellia gently asked, overflowing with an unbreakable confidence. “Were you hoping to serve me as slaves? Or were you intending to be my meal from the beginning?” While Felicia swayed and shouted upside-down, Ellia licked her from top to bottom, greedy for that flavor.

Devin then collapsed, his backpack slipping off his shoulders as he bowed beggingly before the vampire. He tore off his mask and flung it aside, “Please stop! Please stop! I-I-- Me, take me instead…!”

“Hoh… How cute…” Ellia humored, twisting her morsel between her pinch of fingers. As if mulling over the thought, she delayed her answer, deciding to reveal her choice by extending her tongue over Felicia in a wet curl. She giggled, “You should not worry, monsieur. You will be joining your mademoiselle in due time.”

Felicia hopelessly reached for her boyfriend as she was carried closer to the mouth, shaking her head stubbornly in refusal. All the same was she taken again by the tongue and sealed in the mouth, her pleas overridden by another hum of enjoyment. Devin was astonished, his head heavy with horrors while still wishing for a way to save his girlfriend -- when he hesitated to flee, Ellia’s other hand took after him, sweeping him into his own shackles of fingers.

Devin was then forced to watch Ellia’s cheeks stretch from the brawl happening inside her mouth. He could see where Felicia struggled and pushed against the walls of her mouth; she was toyed with, her resistance rewarded with mocking giggles that drowned her continued crying. Devin could only shake his head as it happened, but Ellia wished for him to be more involved. She forced him against her throat without warning, tipping her head backwards so that the woman on her tongue was urged into her throat. Felicia sunk to where she was guided, savagely clawing at the pink flesh to no avail; it was a torturously slow swallow, prolonged for Devin’s experience. He could hear her, succumbing upside-down to the throat; he wept as he felt her movement on the other side, his body practically pressed against hers, but only for that dim moment as she passed downwards into the stomach.

The very stomach he had been standing upon, and the very stomach he was promised to end up in. His stamina was depleted by Ellia’s exhale, herself energized by the fresh consumption of mortal blood. With Devin still pushed against her throat, she giggled into a statement, “Quite delicious… and, is that alcohol I taste? Mmm~ What a delectable treat to awaken to…” As she spoke with her seductive tone, Ellia dragged Devin’s body in a line down her middle, tracing the direction Felicia had fallen -- between her breasts, and arriving at her belly. Devin shook his head in denial, but he knew what he heard bawling from within, the sound of his beloved wailing within the groaning of a giant stomach.

This playfulness from Ellia was brief, as her hunger for blood was perpetual. She lifted Devin into her sigh, washing him with a breath that forewarned the unveiling of her tongue outside her mouth. Chilled air rose around Devin, from his wheeling feet up to his frazzled mop of hair. He was maneuvered into a delicate pinch on either side, brought to a hover above the awaiting tongue. The pink-colored serpent was fat, wet, heartless -- and as he then discovered, unnervingly cold. It wrapped around his legs first, subduing them and then snaking up the rest of his writhing body. Screams for help did nothing to slow his devouring; in a simple tug, the tongue received him into Ellia’s mouth, where he would endure a saliva-soaked pummeling as the vampire toyed with her meal.

Just before swallowing, Ellia’s eyes befell the last of the trio, catching a glimpse of the remaining woman. When their eyes met for just a flash, Cammy instantly spurred to the defensive. She flipped around in a rush and stumbled down the sloped terrain, panicked by the nightmare she had just witnessed. Both of her friends, in just a matter of minutes, had been eaten, and surely she was next if she did not run away.

This is so not happening, Cammy told herself. This is wrong-- all wrong, i-it has to be a trick! This can’t actually-- “Ergh! No!!” Cammy was thrown backwards, tripped onto her butt just after sprinting off from the hill’s base. She jumped to stand up, but was tripped again -- the cape of her Dracula costume had caught onto a broken pipe, painfully pulling her back by the neck with every attempt made to rush onward. She frantically tugged at the cape, more than willing to ruin her vampire attire, but the true vampire between them had risen to her full height, like a full moon claiming the night sky.

A legging-clad foot thundered as it leaped over the hillside and crashed down where an abandoned car was surrounded by overgrown grass. The machine was utterly gone, a sight that paralyzed Cammy for an entire second. The vampire stood over her completely, a foot flanking her on either side; directly above was Ellia’s skirt, rippling in the wind with occasional showings of her gothic underwear. As if the situation were not humiliating enough to be caught between a woman’s feet like she were some toy on the ground, the giant looming over her had to be a vampire, realized in an image Cammy had famously disagreed with -- sexy, sultry, and misplaced from her proper period, Ellia was the antithesis to the cold and classic design of vampires that Cammy favored.

A bout of anger allowed Cammy to tear the cape off the pipe, but the moment she was in a run, she was blindsided by a net-like hand. She twisted madly in Ellia’s possession, squirming for an escape that was simply disallowed by her captor. The world spun around her sickeningly as she was brought up to the vampire’s satisfied expression, teasingly held in the air by the back of her costume. Cammy did not beg nor cry, only able to heave in hectic breaths as she studied the welcoming lips and their foreboding fangs.

Cammy was brought nearer to the face, a motion that made her squeak and cower behind her arms. Rather than be plopped into the mouth, she was instead sniffed -- a gust pulled at her from below, her essence inhaled by the huge nostrils above her. She yelped as it happened, having reached a point where she was wishing to be eaten as swiftly as possible and for the experience to all be over.

When she was sniffed a second time, it undid part of Cammy’s black wig, making it a mess atop her head. It was the least of her concerns, but it had her wonder why she had yet to be eaten. As much as she could, she leaned away from the mouth that had taken her two friends, though it was Ellia’s ruby eyes that she was centered in front of. The blinking orbs studied her, but all the same did Cammy kick and whine, a token to Ellia’s entertainment.

“You do not smell like your companions,” Ellia noted, her smile edged with interest. “Mm, no… You must not have been drinking…”

Cammy was hyperventilating, a symptom made no better by the strangling of her own costume around her body. The piercing red eyes aimed at her compelled her to speak up, “N-N-No! I-I didn’t drink!”

Ellia’s eyes closed. “Ah. How disappointing,” she said. “The warmth of alcohol… I can only enjoy that feeling from the blood of others. A pity; I’ve longed for that spiraling freedom, but two morsels will never do. C’est la vi.”

Any answer of Cammy’s would have resulted in the same fate; Ellia, regardless of how drunk her victim may or may not be, would still eat her like any other mortal. She raised the vampire-dressed woman above her open mouth, dangling her above that pit of a throat. Cammy rioted, desperately grabbing up at the vampire’s chilling fingers in an effort to escape. Try as she might, there was no stopping herself from being lowered into the gluttonous cavern.

Then, in a fluster for any other consequence, Cammy yelled to Ellia, “There’s more drunks! I-I can get you more drunks!”

In a flinch, her descent ceased. Nevertheless, Cammy kept her eyes closed shut, unaware of the mercy being granted until she no longer felt the hollow breaths washing up over her legs. When she next looked forward, she had returned to facing Ellia’s cold gaze. She quivered in the way she was still held, but the fingers gradually crept around her body, forming a grasp around her that was more forgiving.

Ellia hummed, “A devilish proposal, hmh~ That rush in your bloodstream… I can tell that you speak the truth. To spare yourself, you’ll truly sacrifice others. Hmhmm~ the drama of mortals…”

Cammy winced, punched by the guilt of what she was agreeing to. She thought to stop herself then, before anyone else could get hurt -- but poisoning her conscience were memories of Devin and Felicia, the horrid scenes of them being swallowed one after the other. She remembered the fear that overcame her moments before, when just the threat of Ellia’s vampiric tongue had her ill with disgust and hopelessness.

“Y-Yes,” Cammy stammered, her voice frail with regret. Tears dotted each eye, dropping into a stream, “Pl-Please, d-don’t eat me…! I-I’ll take you t-to where they all are… I promise! Please, I-I--”

“Hmh, shh~ I have no doubt you will serve me well, little mortal,” Ellia sang, a lullaby tone meant to wane the despair riddling Cammy. It was a sudden shift in personality and intent, the monstrous appetite seemingly satiated and replaced with a calming, maternal vibe. “Dressed as you all were, I can only imagine there must be a festival of sorts nearby. As per our agreement, you may guide me to where these drunks are located.”

Cammy had been saved, but she did not feel victorious in the slightest. Lifeless and disturbed, she was shocked back to life when Ellia’s hand carried her to the collar of her dress. Without discussion, Cammy was placed into the cleavage, left to hug a pinch of the plush flesh as Ellia immediately began moving forward into the woods. Without a beating heart, the only rhythm Cammy could follow was that of the vampire’s tremendous footfalls as they tore through the leafless branches, an inevitable countdown to when Ellia would cast her gluttonous terror onto a cast of unsuspecting party-goers.

A drizzle of rain pattered upon the empty mile of road. In the most shallow parts, pools formed that reflected the paleness of the full moon. Far from any city and woven around the unruly slopes of the geography was a lonely street, always watched over by the black peak of a desolate manor. The acres of land the estate was situated upon had been completely abandoned, and it would be as equally untouched if it were not for the one soul that made use of its private pathways.

But the jet blue car that ordinarily blazed past the manor so routinely was dead-stopped. Under only the illumination of the moon, the driver had pulled over into a ditch -- hardly by choice, but the circumstance could have been far more grave. She recalled the scene that had happened minutes ago, still making sense of it all. Her car had been acting normally when, suddenly, the engine seemingly blew. Steam rose from under the hood and into the front window, blinding her from a slick pool of rainwater that caused her to veer off the road.

“Poor trick-or-treaters…” Brandi sighed to herself, looking up at the rain as its intensity grew. She glanced back at the car situation she was attempting to forget, but managed to chuckle, “Poorer me. What luck…” Without an umbrella, Brandi took partial refuge in the passenger side door, glaring at her phone’s lack of service. It was useless to try and get a signal out as far as she was, thus culling her options even further. She had known the risks of taking the unused roads of the manor, a shortcut to get between towns much faster and without paying a toll; it was only appropriate it would be Halloween night when misfortune struck.

Inevitably, Brandi’s hopes were magnetically drawn to the mythic manor. She gazed up the levels of hills to see its pointed roof above a barrier of trees, like a crown donned by the land. As a real estate agent, she had heard the stories of its construction and abandonment, a legend involving a dead daughter and the deed owner who never formally forfeited the land afterwards. The daughter lived and died there in her short life, so the tale went, going on to suggest that her spirit still inhabited those old walls.

A fun legend to think about on Halloween, Brandi thought, but she hoped it was completely wrong. It would have to be if she wanted any semblance of assistance to get her through the night. Such a huge property supposedly had to be occupied and tended to by someone, someone that would ideally lend a helping hand or at least allow a phone call. Of course, the horrors of what could otherwise happen did not go over Brandi’s head. She was a wise woman who did not allow her optimism to turn into carelessness, and she hardened herself further as she began the trek up towards the manor.

By the time Brandi had reached just the gate of the manor, her professional sky blue attire was dripping wet and her brown hair had losts it style, devolving into a wet disarray that she kept pulled out of her eyes. This first obstacle surrounding the manor was a stone fence that was crumbling without maintenance, its black gate left ajar as though the ivy crawling up its bars was welcoming Brandi inside. Regardless of what invited her in, she was glad enough to see the doors ahead of her, and so she hurried up to the expansive patio. It was her only hesitation, her fist raised in front of the door, waiting to knock; behind her, somewhere in the rain, she had imagined a voice, a giggle, but she would not let that distant chime distract her from what she needed to do.

Four heavy knocks hit the door. A beat later, Brandi leaned towards the entrance and called into it, “Hello? Can someone-- err, i-is anyone home? … Anyone at all?” She bit her lip while a cold wind blew through the patio. She listened carefully for a response, even just some footsteps to assure her, but after an eternal few seconds of waiting, there had been no feedback to work with. Glimpsing at the fogged windows, the worn wood, and the weed-infested lawn, all evidence concluded that the manor really was an abandoned estate.

Brandi turned back to the way she came, sighing in defeat. She was readying herself to brace the mist again when she heard a creaking come from behind her, a whine from rusted hinges. Nervously, she looked back at the two doors, unable to ignore that one had been opened. Only a few inches of a gap, but she could see the pitch black inside, its emptiness like a gesture that called to her.

In silence, Brandi approached the door again. She felt compelled to, despite genuinely wishing to leave. With a quaking arm, she knocked again, twice this time and as heavy as before. “Hello-- oh? Uh?” After her knock, both doors began to open, creeping apart with the same creaking as before. The full body of the darkness ahead beckoned to Brandi as though it needed to be explored, but when she trembled with doubt--

“Iieehh!” Brandi squealed as she was pushed to her knees, rammed from behind. “Ouch-- Hey!” Flustered and furious, Brandi whipped around and scuttled backwards, an arm lifted to defend herself -- but there was nothing to defend herself from. Where the doors remained ajar was just the fog from outside leaking into the foyer. In the paralyzed moment where Brandi gawked at nothing, she heard that ring from before, and before her very eyes, the doors closed shut.

Brandi babbled in distress, jumping to her feet and into a dash at the entrance. She grabbed the handle and pulled, but it only rattled uselessly, the wood doors refusing to budge like they just had earlier done on a whim. “Come on…! What the hell…?!” After every attempt, it still refused to open, and in the minute Brandi struggled in vain, the temperature seemed to plummet. When she finally stepped away from the entrance, she was fixed into shivering, stumbling towards the center of the room with her arms hugged around her.

“... Okay! Prank’s over!” Brandi yelled. She forced out a laugh, “You got me! Halloween, I get it! Hah, okay! But I need help -- seriously, I-I’m not playing around anymore!” She swirled where she stood, peering through the shadows to make out a rough outline of the foyer. Two tall staircases semi-spiralled to a second floor, and a balcony overlooked both floors from just above that. Each story was wide apart, and the many hallways that branched from the main chamber made for an environment that echoed back her shouts.

Brandi groaned when it was only her own voice that replied. “M-My car’s dead! My phone-- shit, my phone!” Thinking of it, she pulled out her phone and despaired over its depleting battery. It would have to last her, being the only source of light she had. “M-My phone is dying,” she announced to her audience of none, “c-can I just borrow a phone to call my sister? … Hello?!”

The flashlight of her phone was flipped on and used to better navigate the foyer, illuminating antique furniture and decorations whose shadows twisted tall behind them. Despite seeing more clearly, Brandi was more befuddled than before, gradually continuing towards the base of a staircase. Several steps inward, she gasped -- the light was cast behind her, searching for whatever had touched her. Something did, she knew it for certain, a long touch that crept down her spine from outside her blazer. She washed a hand over where she was supposedly stroked, remembered of that force that pushed her into the manor. She thought little of it back then, but the push had been focused on her rear, which she then comforted with a tender massage. It was all strikingly uncomfortable, intentional or not -- yet she continued into the manor, pulled towards its heart.

That chime was heard again, bringing Brandi to lift up her chin in alertness. She spun to find the source, yet there was still nothing, only the clarity that this was, in fact, some sort of giggling that was following her. The distinctly feminine tone of the voice left Brandi quivering, but she was electrified into a flinch when she felt yet another unwanted touch. It was along her shoulder, another stroke, but rather than being just a caress of her body, this touch pulled on her blazer, tugging it roughly to the side.

“Urk! Wh-What-- Hey!!” Brandi smacked at the air to defend herself, ripping herself away from whatever had her in its clutches. She tripped into the bottom stair and fell hard on her rear onto one of the next steps, but the pulling at her clothes had garnered all of her worry. Unsure if she could stand, she remained prone, and it happened again. The other shoulder, grabbed in much the same way, except its tug was far more demanding. It ripped the blazer from where it was sewn, with such quickness that it caused two buttons to pop off from her chest. “What the hell?! Wh-What--!”

Again, Brandi flailed at nothingness, the beam of her flashlight wildly projected across the foyer as she swung blindly at this unseeable presence. She was pushed by a force against her chest, the unexpected blow causing her whipping arm to release her phone from her grip. The device flung forward and slid across the floor, illuminating upwards -- and, ahead of where it stopped, the light revealed a figure. A silhouette of white, at least at first, whose sudden appearance brought a halting chill to Brandi’s panicking. Her body stiffened where it was on the stairs, left agasp at the mystical image before her.

It was a woman, youthful and spritely, a head or even more shorter than Brandi. She appeared pale, but in truth, a vague whiteness surrounded her, similar to the mist waiting outside. Platinum hair was perfectly trimmed so that her bangs arced just over her eyes, encircling an expression of serene content. Whoever this could be presented herself as politely stoic otherwise, with her hands crossed in front of her frilled sundress as she patiently stared at the tripped woman.

Brandi twitched up a step of the stairs, puzzled with what she saw and how it related to this invisible attacker. When she looked at this strange woman, the presence that had been assailing her had ceased; no tugging at her clothes, no shoving, but an eerie emptiness instead dominated the atmosphere. Brandi wondered what to say, or if this figure revealed by the light would say something worse. In a shiver, she finally spoke up, “Who are you?! T-Tell me who you are!”

The strange girl narrowed her gaze, her round cheeks warmed seemingly by the recognition from Brandi. She lowered her head in her reply, “... Holiday…”

“Holi-- Holiday?” Brandi’s worry manifested into a chuckle. Her heart was beating again, attempting to make sense of everything that transpired. She closed her legs and held her top together in a fist, little fixes to how gracelessly she was sprawled out. “H-Holiday, d-do… do you live here? I-Is this your home?”

“... Is that… your body…?” Holiday’s hand, dainty and light, ascended into a point straight at Brandi. Her grin sharpened, “Is that body… Brandi…? Eh-heh...”

Brandi’s skin crawled, and so did she up another step of the stairs. More unnerving than Holiday’s cryptic response was that haunting giggle. The sound itched at Brandi the moment Holiday was amused, knowing too well that this was the very chime that had been following her. Her breathing grew hectic, and in an outburst, she stood up with the flight’s railing for support, snarling at the short woman, “Enough! No more playing! J-J-Just-- What are you after?! Wh-Who told you my name?! Just t-tell me!”

Holiday hid her smile behind her fingers, as if disguising a rude gesture from Brandi. Even this movement of her arm was slow with an uncanny elegance. “Tonight… all I want… is to play…” Her head was raised again, blatantly displaying her callous satisfaction. “I want… to play with you… Brandi…”

“Hell no,” the real estate agent scoffed -- this prank had gone on for too long. Her grip on the railing tightened with frustration, “Look… I-I love a good joke, and a good scare-- This? This is-- How do you even do this?!” She laughed panickedly, her composure slipping. In a deep breath, much of her focus was restored, and she shakily exhaled into a conclusion. “I’m leaving. If you can’t help me, I’m--”

When Brandi tried walking forward, she was familiarly pushed down by an unseen wave. Her head rocked hard into a stairstep, enough to blur her vision as she recoiled from the knockback. She whimpered, vaguely reaching out against whatever attacked her -- but her sights cleared, revealing Holiday ahead of her, posed with a hand stretched forward. Brandi quivered with an assumption, which was then proven terribly correct; Holiday’s fingers curled inward, and so too did a grabbing feeling surround Brandi from all sides, a tightness forming around her neck, under her arms, and along her hip. She was grasped, realizing then she had been fighting off the curious fingers of this unknown person.

“St-Stop! Let go of me!” Brandi squirmed, smacking at where she envisioned the fingers to be clawing around her, but never contacting anything. Her swings at the empty air and her shouts of desperation made for a scene that entertained Holiday, who exacerbated the situation by maneuvering a finger down Brandi’s torso. The icy touch conjured a shriek from the woman, her spasms for freedom unable to dissuade the invisible force from digging into her bosom. “Y-You freak! Quit it, stop!” More buttons popped loose until the blazer was fully ripped open, unveiling the white bra underneath.

“Such… a mature body…” Holiday commented in a dreamy wonder. “It’s… soft… You’re so fun to play with, Brandi…”

Brandi growled, persistently refusing to be held down but failing to break free. It was by Holiday’s whim alone that she was finally released, permitted to run away -- just like Holiday desired. The instant she was no longer held down, Brandi scrambled up the stairs with both arms and legs, tripping twice as she hurried up to the second floor of the foyer.

The flustered agent breathed in spits, only glancing back at the bottom when she had reached the top, and discovered that the eerie aura that surrounded Holiday had expanded like a steam filling the room. Where that whiteness touched the unlit lanterns, dim fires were summoned, casting a weak illumination where the fallen phone’s flashlight could not. This fiery fanfare culminated when the haze reached a lavish chandelier, its wide collection of candles all sparking to life and bringing forth the most light into the open chamber.

When the chandelier did so, Brandi was imposed upon with another frightening image, the scale of which had her shuddering her weight into the balcony railing. The young woman remained stationed at the bottom floor, unmoving -- but above her, looming around her with a height that reached the ceiling, was another manifestation of her. This Holiday was a giant, the size of which could only be contained in the foyer while she was hunched on her knees. More than just this different scale were other changes, most notably with her haunting expression. That blade-like smile of amusement survived, but overgrown and frazzled hair curtained both eyes, which were also burdened by dark bags beneath them. Her sundress, once fresh and straight, was torn and sullied as if decades had worn through it. Yet, despite how these traits suggested a mysterious aging, Holiday herself maintained the same youthfulness as before, as though time could not totally transform her.

Brandi’s knees gave in, dropping her behind the bars of the railing. Overwhelmed by the giant vision, she fell pale and hopeless, left gawking up at the unseen eyes of the titan Holiday. Her eyes closed forcefully as she pushed her forehead against the wood, “I-It’s a d-dream… Just a dream…”

Holiday leaned in, her smile weighing more heavily overtop of Brandi. Her fingers crept over the railing as she peered over the foyer’s second level, emphasizing her immense size. “This is no dream…” she clarified peacefully. “You… belong to me… You are now… a plaything to me, Brandi…”

“What are you?! Wh-Why?!”

“Eh-heh… Your confusion… is so charming…” Holiday lowered her lean further, placing her gigantic expression only arms reach away from her captive. A shiver-inducing sigh washed over Brandi’s shambled form. “I am a spirit… The ghost of this manor… I am the essence of what haunts this place… Long ago, a young woman fell ill in this home… Her energy, and those legends of this manor… shaped me into what you see…”

Through the frizzed parts of Holiday’s bangs, her gray eyes were found staring obsessively at Brandi, still as stone. She continued, “That person’s unfulfilled wants… to live life, as the woman she had just become… It creates my hunger, my cravings… On nights like this, my influence expands far… I played with you then, as you passed my manor, like so many times before… I led you here. I brought you here. Into my trap… eh-heh-heh…”

Brandi crawled away from the edge, the explanation having made her dizzy. An impossible being was boldly claiming to be stealing her, like some sort of prize to be taken. It perplexed her nonetheless, leaving her with no words to counter the reality unfolding around her. What snapped her into motion was the movement of Holiday’s right hand, the fingers uncoiling from the railing and hovering in her direction. Brandi rolled aside, dodging the hand’s grasp and bolting down a shadowy hallway.

Tailing behind her was that haunting giggle, always at Brandi’s heels like a flood of water rushing behind her. She looked back, fearful she was being chased, but when she looked forward again, there was Holiday standing before her. No longer was she giant, but in that petite form like before, as ragged as she was moments ago. Surrounding her was a void of nothing, at least until she smiled and allowed the lanterns nearby to be magically lit. Brandi gasped as the setting of a parlor came to exist, a riddled ceiling leaking with various trickles of rainwater.

“I won’t stay! I-I won’t!” Brandi affirmed in a yell, her arms coiled tightly in front of her exposed chest. She paid no mind to the loose strands of hair that fell over her scowl. “Y-You can’t keep me here…! Someone will realize I’m gone, th-they’ll find me…!”

Holiday coyly grinned at the taller woman, deciding to perch herself calmly in the lounge chair behind her. “Where… do you believe here is…?” she pondered, dotting her lip with a delicate finger. “You… are with me now… You are in me… and I… I control everything here, eh-heh…”

Brandi grunted; it was pointless to argue. She would prove her ability to leave by doing just that, but when she turned back to the parlor’s door, it was farther away -- much farther, and going farther still. Happening then was that Brandi was shrinking, diminishing in size as the room relatively expanded all out from her. She fell over onto the tiled floor in surprise, spinning about in search of any plausible exits.

In such a pursuit, Brandi saw that behind her had suddenly appeared Holiday, seated on the sofa like she had been. It was as if Brandi herself had been dragged closer to the woman, her pitiful size putting her beneath two bare feet that playfully kicked in a little rhythm. Brandi screamed and stood up, but was pushed down in that next second. Holiday had dropped a foot over her shrunken body, wide and long enough to encompass all of the woman’s back. As Brandi struggled to lift the weight off her, Holiday giggled with increasing hilarity, tickled by how this person writhed beneath her pale-white sole.

“No! No, l-let go!” Brandi begged, squirming her way out from under the footstep. Holiday’s laughter was maddening, but in that rage was the strength to loosen herself free. Brandi dashed a step, but only that far; Holiday kicked her down again, this time rolling Brandi onto her back so that her foot could massage the woman’s front. Toes the size of Brandi’s skull wrestled around her, choking her at times while at other moments exploring the curves of her body. Brandi resisted the entire time, but only served to tucker herself out, leaving her prone to any desire Holiday had. Holiday’s toes thus mangled the blazer off of Brandi, a feat performed while the tiny woman squeaked in protest; the article was torn away, exposing Brandi’s upper body to the coldness of Holiday’s skin.

Delighted with this result, Holiday pressed her heel harder onto Brandi. A slight grinding focused the pressure between Brandi’s legs, forcing her to kick and spasm uncomfortably. In her efforts to rid the foot off of her, she reached up and hugged whatever width of it that she could, one arm slipping between two toes while the other clenched at the skin. Her wails went into the plush flesh of the foot, muffling the tiny cries that made a pleasant melody for Holiday to enjoy -- an enjoyment she escalated by gently turning a palm around her breast.

“Your fear… is… addicting…” Holiday remarked, her grin parted as to vent the emotions building up inside her. “Eh-heh… Frightened so easily… How else will you react, I wonder…?”

Without warning, Holiday’s foot was relieved from Brandi, who laid limp on the floor once the weight was off of her. The drive to run was not enough to overcome her exhaustion, but it would not have mattered, as Holiday yearned for more. She chose to hop off the sofa, her bare feet hitting the floor hard with two powerful stomps on either side of Brandi. The shrunken woman was shaken into a jump of fright, practically bounced up onto her legs. She turned her view upward, gawking at the giant overhead, her vision uncannily drawn to the bloomers exposed by Holiday’s sundress. The embarrassing position would have kept Brandi halted still, but when Holiday giggled and raised a foot directly above her, she dashed into a sprint -- just in time to avoid the footfall.

Brandi screamed in bursts as she ran forward, chased after by a series of footsteps. Her frantic hurriedness was juxtaposed by Holiday’s carefree waltz, her arms stretched far to either side as she exaggeratedly balanced every subsequent pace. Her missing was intentional, always falling short of crushing Brandi and allowing her to scurry ahead with her life. Compounding Brandi’s distress was that she understood herself to still be shrinking, evident by the amplifying magnitude of Holiday’s footsteps, and the ever-growing distance between her and that parlor entrance.

But this fun had its limits, and Holiday had more in mind than playing cat and mouse. Brandi had diminished to the size of a penny when she was tripped by the last explosive footfall. She turned to study the meteoric-like foot, comprehending its unbelievable size while the toes curled excitedly in front of her. Like before, Holiday raised a foot high over the fallen woman, but on this occasion, she waved farewell, just before her sole plummeted without hesitation.

Brandi bundled her body into itself, too choked to scream. She imagined her own death, blanketed by an icy coat that felt like a grave. But she was alive like she had been, opening her eyes to a different scene. She was no longer beneath Holiday’s foot, but instead enwrapped by her hand. A pair of giant lips greeted her first, pulled close as to exhale over her body. Frantically, Brandi searched for an understanding, but all she could uncover was that she was somehow back in the foyer, faced with a gigantic Holiday that sat with her knees up to her chest.

“Eh-heh-heh… Nowhere… to go…” Holiday teased, massaging the broadside of her thumb against the tiny woman’s head. Finding her captive irresistible, her mouth gracelessly stayed open, expunging drool from one corner. Brandi’s heart raced like an animal, a rapid pulse that Holiday was sensitive enough to feel through her digits.

“H-Holiday, please…! I-I can barely breathe, pl-please…” Brandi gave her final effort at reasoning with the ghost, a last attempt that was answered with a half-body lick. Holiday’s tongue stretched from its cavernous mouth and traveled up Brandi’s body, pulling up on her breasts and tangling her hair in one saliva-spreading stroke. Brandi was stunned into silence as it occurred, but once the stickiness of the tongue released her, she immediately screeched in disgust. Two fists thwacked the meaty fingers of the fist that held her, but all this earned her was another tasting, her anger drowned in a bubble of spit.

“Keep struggling… Keep struggling like this…!” Holiday encouraged in a fit of giggles. “Eh-heh! It’s so cute… so cute to feel you squirming…! Ahhn…” Holiday winced, overcome with her desires. Behind her drooping bangs was a flicker of life in the grayness of her eyes, a tickle felt in her being that immortals such as herself rarely experienced. Manifesting intensely from the spirit was the energy for arousal, a power that developed keenly with all of Brandi’s torment.

Unable to restrain herself any longer, Holiday plunged her and her captive into the depths of her desires. Brandi squealed as she was suddenly propelled into the ghost’s bosom, her hands clawing desperately at the fabric of the sundress. Proportionally, her own chest would be notably larger than Holiday’s, but with the ghost having taken such a huge form, it was an impossible comparison, with one breast alone a big enough globe to conquer all that Brandi was. The cleavage made proof of this by swallowing her whole, the low-running neck stretched further as to allow the rioting woman within. All of Brandi’s flailing made for a perfectly fun feeling of resistance, tripping Holiday into a bout of laughter that rumbled the manor’s walls.

Unexpectedly, Holiday shifted her posture, and so Brandi was tossed into a new position to be tortured. Flung upside down, the woman just barely understood that she was being forced against Holiday’s crotch. She spasmed outside the bloomers, the cloth doing little to hide the distinct wetness and shape of the ghost’s cunt. Brandi’s head was shoved into the crevice, propped in a way that her struggle to breathe would have to pass against her clit -- Brandi was unaware that every attempt to inhale anything but the scent of the huge crotch was directly feeding Holiday’s pleasure, and so she continued with desperation, leading the ghost into a howl-like moan.

“Brandi…! What an amazing toy… y-you’ve proven to be…! Uuhng!” A clench of Holiday’s thighs cruelly compacted the woman between them, pressing her harder into the bloomers. Even Brandi in her fluster for freedom had accepted that her strife served Holiday more than it did herself, for every grasp and pull at the fatty skin surrounding her was too weak to rescue her from such treatment. Her only refuge was ironically Holiday’s mood; after entertaining her crotch enough, Holiday traded Brandi again to be strangled against her tits, while her free hand continued from where her toy once had been.

Holiday’s masturbation with Brandi went forward without interruption. Brandi’s screams turned more scarce as time went on, her throat too dry in this struggle to keep despairing like she had. Her body was roped in all means and ways, forced to explore Holiday’s body in whatever direction the ghost decided. She was licked and kissed, poked and prodded; in the chaotic scene, Brandi’s skirt was stripped away, and her panties only clung to her knees. Undressed like a doll, she was further humiliated when placed onto the floor, held down by Holiday’s hand until the phantom’s ass was hanging overhead. Refusal erupted from Brandi, but her voice could not stop the butt from rushing down on top of her, its deceptive softness muffling the woman’s entire existence. The real estate agent was literally unable to move beneath a weight so heavy, yet even this paralysis fed into Holiday’s arousal, spurring her into a shaky climax that rumbled all through the manor’s foundation. As Holiday roared with pleasure, her rear grinded up and down Brandi’s still body, impressioning the real estate agent like a pillow cushion needing to be fluffed.

That ghostly exhale of an orgasm rang through the foyer like a wind, and Holiday’s infamous giggles were like bells ringing in that very breeze. That eerie and unusual ambience was what greeted Brandi in her prone state, her half-nude body left abandoned in a chamber of darkness. The weight had been lifted off of her, and she opened her weary eyes to see nothing -- nothing, just like she had at the beginning. Nothing, no one, but the evidence of Holiday having toyed with her existed nonetheless. She was coated in saliva, a moisture that was as real as her full-body fatigue.

But in the darkness all around her, there truly was no presence. The flame of the candles and the chandelier had all dispersed, and the antique furniture was all the size it was meant to be. Doubtfully, Brandi craned up, covered in aches but enduring them as to find resolve. Her breathing was strained, but she managed to call out, “H-Holiday…?! Wh-Where… Where did you…?”

There was no answer, not even a giggle. Seemingly, even the weather outside had calmed into silence, no longer drumming against the roof. Brandi was alone in the manor, and she cherished it. She had survived, regardless if she understood what she had survived.

Brandi crept to the front doors, the cold compelling her to hug her exposed body as her bare feet trekked across the bottom floor. She was in disarray, with only enough energy to walk, but she would escape using whatever it took. Her weight fell into the doors as to shove them open, and the outside greeted her -- with a satisfied smile that scarred the sky.

“Eh-heh-heh… heh-heh…”

Brandi was awestruck, her frail form shivering where it stood at the patio. The manor’s yard stretched outward to the stonework gate, and ended there. From that point, it was a wall of pale skin, a split between two globes of flesh -- humongous breasts, casually overlapping the top of the gate. Appropriately, the incredible chest led up to a proportionally giant expression, hanging above the property at a size that redefined Brandi’s own sense of significance. Holiday hovered above her-- above the entirety of the manor, which she laid out in front of as though it were--

“A dollhouse…” Holiday giggled. “And you… are the doll… Welcome to your new home, Brandi…!”

Brandi’s gaze scoped out this absurd reality in stunned silence. This was not the world she knew, but a plane of some other existence. Darkness spiralled in the sky, threads of ectoplasmic life energy weaved like celestial objects, and cryptic towers levitated above the land without logic. It was a dream realm, where monsters ran rampant, some appearing in glimpses far behind the gigantic ghost. No longer was Brandi home on earth, but instead was she in the dimension of monsters, a specific corner in which Holiday reigned like a god to her.

“I’m so happy to have caught you…” Brandi said, her voice rumbling like a low thunder. “After midnight… at the end of Halloween… where else would a mortal go? Eh-heh… How rare for a human to end up here… unable to ever return… You must be frightened, eh-heh-heh… so delightfully frightened…~ For years and years, we get to play together, Brandi…! I want to play again right now…!”

The temperature was dropping as the evening prolonged, the atmosphere falling colder as the last porch lights were turned off and the final jack-o-lanterns were blown out. The laughter of children had faded as rounds of trick-or-treaters made their ways back home with buckets full of candy. Halloween had neared its end, but there was one child not yet ready to say farewell to the holiday.

“Joyce!!” a mother called out, a mittened hand cupped around her mouth to amplify her voice. She yelled down an open country road, where one side heralded the usual Americana, while opposite of it stretched the long fields of farmland. Its slopes were stroked with thickets, and faraway barns and silos were just silhouettes against the backdrop of night. It was a boundary Jennifer had never crossed, but that particular Halloween, she felt a beckoning towards it -- the yearning for her missing daughter. “Oh, Joyce…! Joyce, come out now!”

Jennifer had hoped it would not come to this, but the open fields were the most likely to be hiding little Joyce. The daughter loved Halloween and was especially fascinated by pumpkin patches, absorbed into their autumn aesthetic. Come the night itself, and Joyce pressed her mother and father to explore the patches late at night. She was told it was too far of a drive, that the pumpkin patches were farther up the fields than she liked to think. Now, Jennifer pondered if Joyce was that rambunctious, to split off from her friends to play with the pumpkins.

She couldn’t wait for authorities, and her husband was handling the search through the neighborhood. Just as bold as her daughter, Jennifer had gone off on her own in pursuit of Joyce, buckled under a jacket that hid most of her fall-themed sweatshirt. She dashed forward with a flood light carried at her side, casting its powerful beam over the plowed lands that she forcefully marched through. Well-aware of how energetic Joyce could get, Jennifer had to imagine that the eight year-old really could have ran away as far as she did -- and possibly still on the move.

After minutes of walking and calling out Joyce’s name, however, Jennifer’s worry worsened. There was no reply, and out of hectic desperation, she had taken herself into a barren nowhere in the middle of the fields. Her flood light did little to guide her, as every row of withered roots looked the same; if it weren’t for the distant hills, she would be completely lost, but not a thought in her head told her to stop, not until Joyce was safe and sound.

Jennifer trekked onward, her breath visible in the rapidly cooling air. A sting of exhaustion was getting to her, but ahead of her path appeared a beacon. When her light flashed forward, she saw a wall in the distance -- not a house, but a barn, its red color nearly drained off the old, weary wood. Holes and gaps riddled the side she was looking at, but the structure had otherwise held up well over years of no maintenance. Indeed, the location seemed quite abandoned as far as Jennifer could observe; some bricks, lumber, and soil were in their piles, and a pick-up truck lay rusted next to a half-deconstructed tractor. There was no home to claim the barn, and certainly not a soul to speak for it.

“J-Joyce…?” Jennifer called out, her voice weak with timidness. She feared what her voice might startle, but she feared more grimly the fate of her child. She crept forward, slowed only by the cold as she called out again, “Joyce, come out! Now!”

As she approached the barn, Jennifer put her light on everything she passed. Any nook could potentially be the hiding place for her child, and thus every location earned a level of suspicion as she examined them. She glanced inside and around these details, but the property deserved a whole lookover, and the barn itself was particularly likely to be housing a curious child. Skeptic of what might lurk in the shadows, however, Jennier continued around the corner with gentle steps snapping the loose hay and grass beneath her.

“Hello…?” Jennifer spoke out for anyone to respond, hopeful to find help in locating Joyce. Just as the silence compelled her to call out again, a flash of something unusual appeared in the circle of her light. An orange color, whose liveliness far outshone the faded paint of the barn, existed in the shape of a rotund mass, perched behind the building like a barrier at its perimeter. Jennifer kept the light shining on the object, studying it as she neared closer.

Finally, only meters away from it, she came to an unconfident conclusion. “A… pumpkin…?” Jennifer doubted herself, figuring no gourd could grow as huge as the one before her -- it was nearly three times her height, nothing like the jack-o-lantern she had at home. It made for a captivating sight, enough that she nearly forgot what brought her out into the biting cold. To that effect, Jennifer whipped her light to the sides of the produce, jolting back into the search, but unable to find even a clue.

Frustrated and bitter from the chilling winds, Jennifer took a momentary break, backing up against the giant gourd and looking back at the barn. It would have to be examined next; “Please, Joyce, be in there…” she nervously cooed to herself. After hugging some warmth from her coat, she turned back to the pumpkin and gazed over its orange shell. She brushed a hand against the surface, remembering the pumpkins she and Joyce had hacked up into misshapen lanterns, and with an open palm, she smacked the side with a firm slap -- a simple pleasure to boost her morale while going into the barn.

She made it a few steps towards the weathered structure when suddenly, Jennifer was pushed from behind -- she was being rolled over. Unaware of what was immediately happening, Jennifer collapsed in a gasp onto her knees, knocked down by the incoming wall of orange. She shuddered away, barking at it with mad calls to stop while propping a kick against it. Her efforts were useless, but the object did halt, and then rise. Flattened swathes of mud and grass drizzled loose from the pumpkin’s bottom as it hovered into the air above Jennifer, demanding that her light be angled onto its miraculously moving form.

Jennifer was stunned by what she witnessed, but the surprises were only unfolding. The giant pumpkin remained lifted in the air, risen by a growth underneath it. When Jennifer tried to understand how such huge roots could have suddenly grown from underneath it, she was perplexed by a new odd addition; a hand whose fingers sprawled over the orange shell, having appeared from outside the flood light’s circle. It pressed into one half of the gourd, but not just in any location -- it was where Jennifer had playfully smacked the pumpkin, a gesture that she was unaware would be received so offendedly, nor received at all.

Left babbling at the impressive display, Jennifer frantically aimed her light in order to trace what was above her. The image she made out in flickers was unbelievable, and undeniable. The pumpkin she had approached so casually was only one piece of a greater creature, a beast whose bottom half was that of a plant, but whose top half was unmistakably that of a woman. The flood light glared up a back that was almost entirely bare, Jennifer’s eyes climbing its curvy slope until she was at the peak of this fantastical person; a bob-cut of blonde hair, slightly frazzled in such a way that a lock was flipped atop her head like a stem’s leaf, that was gradually turning in her direction. The wavering flood light lingered on the face that was revealed, a sour expression from a scorned woman that stared down at the fallen Jennifer.

“... Excuse me…?” the giant growled, her voice a rumbling hum that cast shivers onto Jennifer. “What was-- ah? A mortal?”

Jennifer meant to scream, but everything was frozen in her throat. Her silence only ran deeper through her veins when the creature turned its entire body, that stern gaze never unlocking from its angle on her. It was fully exposed that this woman was nothing normal of this world; beyond her incredible size was that she was part-plant, the pumpkin itself being only the abdomen and waist of who she completely was. The rotundness made for a dress-like shape at her hips, an uncanny width that the giant’s arms could rest upon. Above this pumpkin form was a plump human body, sporting a chest that wanted to rival her body’s largeness elsewhere; appropriately, a shard of pumpkin shell was worn like a skimpy top, held in place by root-like vines that tangled around her arms and neck. Such an intimidating stance was made more terrifying when the huge woman grew taller, lifted off the ground by tendril-like vines that pushed up from the farmland in place of human legs.

Without a reply, the pumpkin woman steepened her glare. She scoffed, “Another pesky intruder… Here to smash my lovelies, have you?”

Jennifer shook her head, suddenly remembering that she had to breathe. “N-No!” she countered quickly. “I-I-- I’m not here for that! I g-got lost, I-I’m looking for--”

“Silence, human! You cower before a truly great monster…” The giant’s scowl shifted into a sinister smile, edged with pride. “Surely you must recognize me, on tonight of all nights… The one and only Queen of Halloween, Jaquelyn of the autumn dryads…!

“And for intruding this far, with the intent to vandalize my lovely gourds… you must be punished.” Jaquelyn crept closer, quickly cutting the distance between her and Jennifer as the vines dragged her forward. Jennifer crawled backwards in a hurry, slamming hard into the barn’s side with nowhere left to crawl. A vine lifted out from the others and whipped viciously in the air as Jaquelyn taunted, “I will do to you what you sought to do to my own…! Vandals such as yourself earn no mercy from me…!”

Swiftly, a vine surged forward at Jennifer. She shielded herself in a shriek, but the vine latched to her wrist -- it wrestled her, and the flood light that she held. The bright beam of light was flung randomly and recklessly in the struggle, glancing Jacquelyn in the eyes and making her flinch back. It was during this brief window that Jennifer successfully broke the vine and twisted away, sacrificing her source of light in order to do. The flood light fell into the mud and turned towards the barn, which was where Jennifer had dashed into seeking refuge.

Jacquelyn spat from frustration, catching a glimpse of Jennifer quickly ducking inside the building. Her grin returned, pleased to have her prey trapped. “It’s no use running away,” she chimed, leaning her hands onto the barn’s roof. The structure creaked horribly underneath her weight, stressed to its limit by just this casual lean. “Hiding is all you humans are capable of… but it never serves you for very long. Gaha, such pathetic little people~”

Jennifer stumbled over abandoned tools and cables, bumbling in the darkness without a plan. She bumped into a rack of gardening supplies, which gifted her with a dull rake with which to defend herself with. It was needed shortly after when a vine had crawled into the barn chasing after her. It wormed through the supplies like a snake, and likewise lunged at Jennifer when it had the opening. Jennifer yelled and slammed the rake over the vine, beating it down while she paced back into a corner. It soon retreated, but just behind Jennifer was another vine coiling around her shoulder, having seeped in from a hole in the wall.

“Ahhh!! Let go!!” Jennifer screamed, pulling hard against the tentacle. Her horror was met with Jacquelyn’s amusement, a giggle raining in from the roof’s thatches. Just after slipping from the vine’s grasp, Jennifer was attacked from above; splinters and dust fell in hard cobbles as the dryad pushed her weight onto the structure, causing chunks of it to fall apart. Jacquelyn was breaking in, as though she were unboxing a prize from a rickety crate.

Jennifer helmeted herself with both arms as she scrambled elsewhere -- into the center of the barn, where the vines breaking in from the walls had not yet reached. With only the flood light from outside to help her, she searched frantically for an exit. The tall open doors into the barn were clogged with a grasping hand, and a broken window was filled with a curious pupil. Jennifer trudged towards a wide break in one of the walls, but before reaching it, it was blocked by a smile, then another peering eye. Jacquelyn was playing with her, but these games were closing in towards an end.

Decidedly done playing chase, the dryad rose back into a seat-like posture, her hands firmly placed on either end of the roof’s corners. “You’ve chosen a poor place to hide,” Jacquelyn giggled. “This feeble building is so delicate to me. Did you want to see me crush it? Gahaha, very well~”

“Don’t! P-Please, stop!” Jennifer begged, but her voice went unheard. She cowered into her arms again when the roof began shattering away, crushed from both ends into its middle. A hail of debris stormed the inside of the barn as its wood was cracked and broken in the monster’s grip. The bulk that remained was like two handfuls of trash, discarded as much by Jacquelyn when it was all tossed aside, giving her a clear view of the woman trapped inside.

Jennifer gagged on the old dust, persistently waving so that her pleas might be listened to, but the gesture only made her a more noticeable target. A giant hand plunged into the barn and scooped her out from under her feet, recklessly taking with it some of the debris. Jennifer panicked in the hand, brashly attempting to escape and leap down to the earth, but she was prevented. Growing from out of the dryad’s wrist were prehensile vines that tangled around Jennifer’s limbs, restricting her back into the palm regardless of how she fought.

Jacquelyn’s face was suddenly very close, breathing down on Jennifer’s shivering form. Her smile flashed more wickedly with how entertained she was by the woman’s struggling. The giant turned away from the barn, her roots dropping her into a seated posture; an entire wall of the barn was flattened beneath her wide ass, a shockwave of snapping sounds that shook Jennifer even for as high up as she was.

“You seem absolutely petrified!” Jacquelyn chuckled. “And you should be -- the things you mortals do to innocent gourds makes me sick. I’ll take great pleasure in turning your body into a mess of pulp~”

Jennifer wailed, her mind totally lost in a maze of confusion. It made no sense how such a creature like the dryad could exist, nor was there an explanation as to how something could be so big. Her fate had been decided through a misunderstanding, all tipped off by a single touch that she dreadfully regretted. But worst of all was her worry for her daughter, never to be seen by her again; the horror of such a thing centered Jennifer, just as the fingers around her began coiling inward.

“My daughter!! That’s all I want!!” Jennifer screamed, sprung with new efforts to unbind herself. “She went missing! I just want to see her again…!”

The dryad’s smile began to dull, but her fingers continued to curl towards Jennifer. Jacquelyn had heard her plight, but where she would have ignored this cry for mercy, she sensed the genuineness of a mother. This was not a lie to put herself free, Jacquelyn concluded, but a sincere concern that her daughter was hurt, or worse.

“... Bah,” Jacqulyn whined, her grip giving in -- Jennifer was released from the roots, leaving her to freely shudder in the bowl-shaped palm, and the log-sized fingers flattened. “So, that was what this was about… You come here looking for your daughter.”

Jennifer was yet paralyzed, unconvinced that this was not a part of some game. However, there was no denying the relief she felt to have been spared and listened to. She weakly nodded, the most of a reply she could scrounge from her fear.

“Ah, how boring… I was hoping I caught a real troublemaker,” Jacquelyn sighed. She held Jennifer rather dismissively, like an object in hand that she cared little for. In this imbalanced way of being carried, Jennifer fended for herself, clawing at the skin to ensure her own grip. Jacquelyn, meanwhile, reclined slightly further into the broken-up barn. “At least a confused farmer… but a mother? Looking for a lost child? Hah, I can’t crush that so easily…”

Jennifer sat up, but she was still spellbound with shivers. As pleasant as this change of course was, it made matters no less confusing. “P-Please… I need to find her…” she stammered, clasping her hands together. “W-We’ll leave immediately, we’ll never come back! I p-promise, please, j-just help me find her…!”

Jacquelyn was tickled back into a grin. “Perhaps I can,” she answered -- Jennifer lit up like a candle, a reaction that made Jacquelyn smile wider. “Come with me. I may know where your daughter is.”

“Y-You do?!” Jennifer was flung into excitement, but it was subdued when Jacquelyn began moving. Despite the suggestion for Jennifer to follow, Jacquelyn persisted on carrying her along as a passenger in her palm. The movement was uneven and slow, the result of the dryad’s plant-half crawling along the farmlands. “H-How? How do you know where Joyce is…?”

“I can sense what my dear, lovely pumpkins sense,” Jacquelyn replied. “It’s why I despise those that destroy them so… savagely. In any case, I had sensed something small and lively rummaging through a patch. It could be her, or a weasel.”

“... A weasel? I-I’m looking for a human child, nothing like a--”

“Pumpkins can’t see!” Jacquelyn interjected forcefully. “I can only make out vague impressions! Do you want to find your daughter yourself? Without pumpkin senses?”

Such a weird answer was exactly weird enough to end Jennifer’s shivering. She shook her head with an unusual calm having settled over her, “No… Please, just... take me to her.”

“Then no more criticisms of pumpkins,” Jacquelyn pressed, continuing farther into the open acres. Her disposition had changed dramatically from Jennifer’s perspective; only moments ago she was a raging monster, but now she acted as a helpful spirit, her nastiness contained to simply a sharp attitude regarding the respect of her pumpkins.

Regardless of how she portrayed herself, Jacquelyn’s monstrous capabilities proved effective in whatever instance they were used. As able as she was to tear down a barn in under a minute, she was able to pinpoint a stray child’s location -- a feat proven successful as they neared a patch of gourds with a spritely kid dancing among them. Still dressed in a black rode and comically-sized witch hat, she had arranged most of the gourds in a circle around her to play in, and she was caught in the midst of stacking several atop each other to form a figure.

“Joyce!” Jennifer yelled. She dashed up to the ends of Jacquelyn’s fingers, pointing urgently at the little girl. “Th-There she is! It’s her!”

Upon being called, Joyce jumped in surprise and turned towards her mother, a pumpkin still hugged in her arms. Her eyes went wide the moment she comprehended the scale of such a thing approaching her, too shocked to move her feet from where they were planted. She watched in awe as the massive dryad crawled ever closer, only later noticing her mom when Jennifer was lowered to the ground. Jennifer immediately ran up to Joyce and dropped to her knees into a hug, but Joyce could look nowhere else but the gigantic woman looming above them.

“Joyce, my baby!” Jennifer panted, her embrace only getting tighter on her child. “Never run off again! Never, ever!”

“M-Mommy…?” Joyce raised an arm as high as the hug would allow her to. She pointed at Jacquelyn, who sat idly by with her arms crossed. “What is that…?”

Jennifer was still unsure what that answer would be, but Jacquelyn was quick to take over. “I am a dryad, little one! The Queen of Halloween, Jacquelyn!” she announced, sporting a devilish smile and a hand over her heart. “I am a monster from another realm, here to protect my precious pumpkins. You haven’t hurt any, have you?”

“Oh god,” Jennifer scoffed, “J-Joyce, don’t--”

“No! I love pumpkins!” Joyce cheered, loosening herself out of her mom’s handle and out in front of Jacquelyn. “I love Halloween! I didn’t know there was a queen!”

Jacquelyn blinked, not realizing a blush was warming her cheeks. “Indeed! They should teach this to you in school, really…” She perched her arms onto her gourd-shaped hips, her head risen a little higher. “Tonight is no night for children to be getting lost, you know. You shouldn’t separate from your mother. Something could happen to you. Or to her…”

Jennifer reached meekly for Joyce, but the child was absorbed by everything the dryad had to say. “Thank you, Queen Jacquelyn! You’re amazing~!”

“Hah, well… the night is nearly over,” Jacquelyn continued, scratching nervously at her cheek. “I suppose I can’t abandon you two out here now. Come, let’s go.”

The travel back was quiet on Jennifer’s part, but Joyce and Jacquelyn celebrated the little time together they had. While her mother gradually regained composure after having spilled it all back at the barn, Joyce asked dozens of questions all while climbing around the giant. Jacquelyn always humored the remarks and answered as honestly as she could, allowing Joyce to be entertained with tendril vines and fresh pumpkins sprouted from her flesh. Jennifer barely moved, only wincing when they passed the old barn and its ruined walls; that area of land felt like a boundary between worlds, the divide that separated a cruel monster from a kind one.

“Off now,” Jacquelyn said, having neared the ends of the farmlands. It was as far as she would go, still a fair distance from the suburbs. She lowered Jennifer to the ground first, then Joyce shortly after; the daughter had been swinging from vines made by the dryad’s hand, wistfully kicking back and forth while being taken home.

“This was the best Halloween ever!” Joyce laughed, running ahead away from both her mom and the monster. Jennifer staggered after her, but Joyce still had more to say, swirling back towards the dryad. “Queen Jacquelyn! Thank you!”

“Gahah, it was nothing~” Jacquelyn giggled.

Jennifer stepped forward, keeping an arm close to her daughter’s shoulders. She swallowed her worries before speaking, “S-Seriously. Thank you. Wh-Whatever you are, um… i-is there any way to repay you?”

Jacquelyn smirked, stroking her chin in thought. “I could ask for almost anything from mortals such as yourselves,” she began, twirling the idea of exploiting the family. However, her comment only intended to draw out one last nervous shiver from Jennifer -- a successful ploy. “All I ask… is that you might remember me. Think of me, fondly or not, but do so on the coolest nights, when the cold bites at you as you sleep. Hehe… That is all.”

“R-Really?” Jennifer said, but Joyce was especially jolly, happily agreeing to the terms. Jennifer watched her daughter dance and skip; the whole situation was so surreal, but at least no one was hurt.

But when Jennifer turned to wish Jacquelyn farewell, what she saw was nothing. She stumbled backwards, tripping onto her rear from fright. The giant dryad, so peculiar in how she looked, had vanished into thin air. Even Joyce was stopped by the realization that Jacquelyn had disappeared, possibly forever. Car lights then flashed at them from the road; it was the police, hurrying towards the mother and daughter so that they could finally return home.

Snow had fallen early that November. A blanket of plush white was steadily growing across those open farmlands and the final rounds of crops produced for the season. Winter had arrived in a dense fog of snowfall, and such weather proved difficult to wade through for the farmers finishing their harvest.

Tractors designed for the task raked the fields for their supply. Several pumpkins at a time would be gathered by the machine, cut from their stems and delivered into a large wagon that tailed the vehicle. Several of these tractors were at work at once, their collection process moving along smoothly, up until one pair of farmers had noticed a peculiar bulge in the soil. They had thought little of it at first, but when they drove over it, there was an undeniable bump from underneath them -- like something was trying to rise from the dirt.

The commotion had pulled in the other farmers as well, circling around the mound with confused expressions shared between them. One was bold enough to stand atop the bulge and attempt to stamp it down, a humorous scene that had everyone chuckling, but consequences were brewing. Right after a few stomps did a quake rumble under their boots, the bulge shivering and even fissuring with movement. That one farmer trembled backwards, but it was too late to avoid what was rising up from underground.

It propelled suddenly into the air like a geyser, a round head of orange hair bursting forth from the earth. Dirt and snow alike drizzled down as the rest of the figure became revealed, gradually growing free from where she had appeared. Her entrance was dramatic, causing the circle of farmers to scatter into the plowed fields or back into their vehicles. The tractors were no refuge, as the creature’s shapeliness toppled them over with ease -- the closest was carried away, caught in the cleavage of the titanic beast that now towered over them.

Jacquelyn completed her introduction with a long, well-deserved stretch of her arms. The fog veiled her fullness, but in whips of winds could the farmers see glimpses of the dryad; her swarming vines, her pumpkin waist, and her first attack, which was to claim several farmers into her binding roots. She lifted them into the air for her to observe, casting her wicked smile over them as they writhed.

“Gaahaa… Just in time, it seems! So confident you could simply harvest my darlings, hm?” Jacquelyn mocked the farmers, playfully turning them side to side while they screamed for help. Those that ran from her were swiftly tripped up by vines breaking out from under them, slowly claiming a collection of victims that were being dragged back to her. “And what would you do with my lovelies…? If you all are farmers, that must mean you intended to eat them, right? Hmhmm~”

Everything and everyone was in her grasp, except for one terrified farmer. He had stomped on the mound so cockily, ignorant to what truth had awaited him, and so he had been picked up by Jacquelyn’s head, clinging to her hair until he could no longer. He slid through her hair, failing to catch threads to stop his descent; down he continued, saved from a bad fall only because he had landed on her rear. So expansive was the dryad’s ass that it made something of a platform to catch him, but he was hardly saved. Before he could comprehend his lowly place, he was plucked away by two fingers snatching him like an insect.

He was brought in front of Jacqueln, intimidated by everything he witnessed; her cutting smile, her outrageous chest, and her most monstrous features. He was dazed in this situation, barely twitching as he was brought closer to Jacquelyn -- closer to her pumpkin waist.

“I think this is only fair,” the dryad mused. “You tried to make a meal of myself… so I will make a meal of you.” Her glare then spread to the others, tangled up in her vines. “All of you!”

Unexpectedly, the central pumpkin of the dryad’s body split apart -- it unlatched, revealing itself to be a massive maw. The crack was as jagged as a toothy grin, and a hellish flicker of flame glowed from inside with a gloomy blue color. The screams of her victims matched her laughing as she plunged the first farmer to his doom, dropping him into the newly-formed mouth. She was pleased with the sensation that followed, instantly addicted; one after the other, she had the rest devoured, her appetite interrupted by her giggling.

Halloween had lived on well past its singular night, so it appeared. It was always the matter of belief that separated the mortal realm from the monster realm, and so it was when that belief was strong that these worlds could cross. When snow had fallen that day, it undoubtedly spurred memories of whimsy to that mother and daughter, who fondly recalled their unbelievable encounter with the Queen of Halloween.