“Are you sure about this?” Mars asked.

Helena shrugged, eyes on the mirror as she applied her lipstick. It was a deep, abyssal blue.

She wasn’t sure of anything, anymore. One of her friends was a vampire. The other had wings sometimes.

“Really, Hel,” Mars pressed. They put down their book, glaring up at her through their reflection. “All you’ve told me about is how sketchy these friends of yours are, and how this party is sounding a lot like the one where a girl died.”

Helena braided fake kelp into her hair. “I’ll use the buddy system,” she assured them. “And if the murderer does show up, I don’t think I’m his type.”

“He’s only killed one person. Maybe he doesn’t have a type.”

That was fair. And Helena could see where Mars’s concern came from: a party in the middle of the woods didn’t sound particularly safe. Especially when its precursor had ended in murder.

But still. Helena had seen pictures of Abigail. Blonde, white, rich, cis, happy little Abigail. Maybe it was too early to establish if the killer had a type, but Helena was none of the above. It’d be a total 180.

“I’ll be with friends,” she said, partially to assure herself. “They’re competent.” This she said just for Mars, because she couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

“If I’d known you were going to this, I wouldn’t have told you to be a mermaid this year.”

Helena snickered. She looked great, and they both knew it, but it definitely wasn’t a costume for running in. The upcycled skirt practically bound her legs together. “If we end up getting chased by a murderer, I’ll throw myself into someone’s arms.” She slipped on a necklace. Rose quartz: she wore it pretty much every day, fidgeting with the silver chain when she got nervous.

“And what, get carried out bridal-style?”

“Exactly.” She adjusted her lace top and the seashell bra over it. “I look irresistible enough, don't I?"

Mars considered this. “We’ll leave you a plate from dinner.”

“Nice dodge, jackass.”

~

It stung, knowing she'd miss the annual Moth Palace Halloweekend Movie Night. In many ways, the Palace was her refuge. Nothing said, “home sweet home” like a bunch of gay, trans twenty-somethings huddled together trying to get by. Also, Woodshore didn't have on-campus residencies, leaving students to rent from complete strangers. She wanted nothing to do with that mess.

“It feels insensitive to hold a party where a girl’s body was found,” she mused, twirling her hair around her finger. And by insensitive, I mean insane, especially with everything else going on.

Cami shrugged. She’d pulled out her guitar, and was absentmindedly plucking the strings. “It’s on the other side of the park, so it could be worse.” Helena wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to be: she was dressed in the same flannel and jeans combo as usual, except now she had cat ears on.

“But like, what about throwing it in another park?”

“That wouldn’t work,” Rachel cut in. She was the only one even half as dressed up as Helena, wearing a tiara and a flowing gown. “These woods are where all the magic shenanigans happen, y’know.”

Helena stared at her, looking for even some sign she felt… something. Even a bit of fear. “I wouldn’t call murder a magic shenanigan.” She chose her words carefully.

“It’s a part of this,” Rachel assured her. “I’m not sure how, exactly--my sister Mallory says it’s complicated. It might’ve been an accident, but one of our factions was responsible.”

The airy, matter-of-fact way she spoke about it sent a chill down Helena’s spine. What in the world had she gotten herself into? “So Abigail wasn’t killed by a human.”

“That much we know for sure, yeah.”

Cami scoffed, strumming a minor chord so hard Helena thought the guitar strings would snap. “Of course it wasn’t a human. No human could do something like that to such a…” She trailed off, words escaping her. She squinted, face creased like the thought took all her effort. “I don’t know if I ever met her. Or met anyone who had.”

“It’s a big school,” Jane pointed out. She fidgeted with her oversized magnifying glass. Her detective costume was fairly unassuming, being little more than the hat and coat, but Helena thought it suited her. Whether she meant to or not, Jane investigated everything. That part of her brain seemingly never turned off.

“Yeah, but I feel so… invested.”

“Almost like you’ve dealt with hyperempathy your whole life, huh?”

As the two snickered, Helena stood. “Okay. Enough talk. Let’s join the rest of the student body in desecrating a crime scene.”

~

“Well!” Helena exclaimed, looking around. “It’s… charming.”

She’d been to a few parties in the woods, in freshman year. And she’d been to a few Halloween parties, though mostly in the suburbs of her hometown, back in her high school days. It was nauseating, almost, the way her two worlds collided.

Orange and black garlands were braided through tree branches, as if each had been done tenderly by hand. Paper bats and phantoms danced in the evening breeze, held up by strings that were invisible unless caught in the firelight, under which they glowed like embers.

There was music, too, though Helena couldn’t for the life of her find its origin. Its low, pounding beat reminded her of the house music CDs her father had collected. The steady kick and bass struck from every angle, deep in her chest, fighting for dominance over the murmur of partygoers. She heard a scream at one point and her head swivelled to the sound, but it was just from the horror movie being streamed in a clearing further off.

And of course, someone had brought booze. It was nestled against a mighty trunk, two kegs’ worth, the first already open. Beside it lay a barrel, where apples bobbed lazily. A couple already had bites in them.

“No chance in hell a bunch of college kids did this,” she murmured. It was too... perfect. Like something made for a toy set, or a video game.

I'm at a party straight out of The Sims, she thought.

Rachel poked her in the ribs. “That’s what I’ve been saying! We do a bang-up job.”

The we, of course, could only mean this was of supernatural origin or something. Great use of time and resources from these incredibly powerful beings, Helena thought.

“Did they hide speakers in the trees?” Olivia whispered, spinning around in search of an answer. She, too, had gone with a pretty basic combo: a white dress, a halo, and some wings. She had, however, done away with her signature shades, and her eyes held an uncanny glow. One that, when most people were smashed, probably just looked like a nice pair of contacts.

Helena watched her eyes dart around, holding back a laugh. “If the weirdest thing is a well-hidden sound system, maybe we shouldn’t be too worried.”

“That’s not the weirdest thing,” Cami interjected. “The weirdest thing is that Cassidy’s here.” She pointed to a gap in the crowd. Helena followed her gaze, and sure enough, Cassidy was interrogating some unfortunate souls probably too high to understand her. She stuck out like a sore thumb, with her lack of a costume.

Unless her costume was “woman who’d aced a job interview.” Or “secretary.” With Cassidy, you never knew.

“So you had no part in any of this?” she demanded. “And you don’t know anyone who did?”

The couple shook their heads, giggling like it was all some inside joke, she'd missed out on.

Cassidy threw her hands up, pivoting on her heel. Then she spotted Cami and Helena, and her eyes widened.

“You,” she hissed, marching over. “This is your fault, isn’t it?” She stabbed a finger into Cami’s chest. “Did you not learn from last time? When someone died after your little get-together?”

Cami shrank back like a cornered rabbit. “I didn’t do this, Cassidy. I would never, after…” She somehow deflated further. “After last time.” Helena grimaced: were they going along with this weird rumour, now?

“Then why are you here?”

“My friends wanted to go!” Cami wrapped an arm around Helena’s shoulders, making her jump. The flannel was soft against her bare shoulders, and Helena briefly pondered stealing it. “Right?”

Helena nodded. “We got the email. It looked like fun.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, and she got the distinct feeling whatever was going on between these two went much deeper than the summer party.

“The email,” Cassidy echoed. “We still don’t know who sent that. Or who did this whole setup. And I don’t know why everyone came to a party thrown by a total stranger. Even some of the shyest, most introverted people I’ve met are here. It’s… it’s...” She trailed off, and for a brief, pitiful heartbeat, Helena worried the girl was going to burst into hysterical tears. Instead, she stormed off.

Rachel bounced over, grinning like she’d won the lottery. “Hook, line, and sinker. No one’s gonna crack it.”

“Do you know why everyone came here?” Cami asked. She let go of Helena, who shuddered at the biting October breeze on her skin.

Rachel shook her head. “Probably some kinda compeller spell in the email. If that’s something they can do. I’ll be real, my faction’s role in this stage is kinda minor.”

Helena scoffed. “There’re stages now?”

“Of course. Order is important.”

“I’m getting a drink,” she muttered. All of this was too much. Maybe there was a murderer somewhere in the midst of this, but whatever the case, she was distinctly too sober for it.

“Wait!” Cami blurted out. “Are you cold? You’re only in, like, one layer.” Before Helena could respond, Cami yanked her flannel off and draped it over her shoulders. “Also, hey, is that a rose quartz necklace?”

“Mhm,” Helena managed. She felt the blush creeping up her face, and kept her eyes on the ground. “Yeah. It is.”

“That’s so cool!” Cami exclaimed. “The gem of love or something, right?”

“To some.” Helena had to force the words out. Was she being hit on right now? That couldn’t be what was happening. No, Cami was just being friendly. Thinking such a thing was so predatory of her. “Thank you.” She straightened up so quickly it hurt and took a step back. “I’m going to, ah.” It was drinking, right? She’d been meaning to get a drink. “Water. Myself. With alcohol. Yeah.”

She darted off, cursing herself all the while. Water yourself with alcohol? You fucking idiot.

The drinks station took up a clearing all its own. One of the kegs had joined the small kingdom of bottles and sixpacks. Helena moved for a pink can of something cherry-flavoured. It’d do the trick.

Maybe Cami was flirting, she thought. I mean, look at yourself. You’re a sexy mermaid. You’re tall, you’re smart, you collect cool rocks. Anyone not flirting with you is stupid.

She took a swig of her drink. There was cherry somewhere in there, wrapped up in the booze.

“Hey, we’re twins!”

Helena whirled around. A stranger stood over her, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She wore a black-and-red flannel, virtually identical to Cami’s.

“So we are,” Helena remarked. She met the woman’s eye, trying to gauge her motive. Like she hadn’t utterly failed to do so two minutes earlier. “It looks good on you.”

“Better on you,” the stranger teased, finger-gunning with her free hand. She held a solo cup in the other. “Hey, they’re marathoning slashers in the south clearing. Are you a horror flick kinda girl?” Her head cocked to the side, and there was an eager light in her eyes. But still, that empty smile. It gave her an almost uncanny expression, like a beast that’d cornered its prey.

But Helena didn’t care. She’d earned a pleasant evening with a hot stranger, hadn’t she? The world owed her that much. Besides, Cami probably hadn’t been flirting with her, so it was best she just distracted herself.

“I can be,” she replied, grinning. “If I have someone to hold me during the scary parts. I'm kind of a wimp like that.” That wasn't true in the slightest, but people liked to hear it.

“Can I volunteer?” The stranger offered her hand.

Helena took it. “Consider yourself hired.”

And so, the two set off. They talked about all kinds of things, from the drinks to midterms season to their astrology charts. Helena was poking at the excess of Aries in the girl’s chart when she realized something: the sound of the horror movie was behind them.

“Did we take a wrong turn?” She asked.

“Just a detour,” the stranger assured her.

Helena’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She risked a glance to see a text from Jane. Probably just wondering where she’d gone off to.

Then it buzzed again.

And again.

And again.

“You should probably take that,” the stranger suggested.

Laughing so she didn’t groan, Helena took her phone out. Sure enough, there were four texts from Jane. Only the most recent showed up on her lock screen.

Helena, please. Get back here. Something’s really, really wrong with Cami.