It was a perfect day.

The sun was shining, birds were singing, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the bakery down the street. Children laughed as they chased each other around the park, their joyful squeals mingling with the chatter of picnicking families. The grass was soft and green, dotted with dandelions that danced in the light breeze. Everything was so... peaceful. So perfect.

Amelia sat on a checkered blanket, a basket of goodies spread out in front of her. Her best friends were by her side—Claire, always the loudest, and Hannah, the quiet one, who had brought along a new book to read. They'd known each other since childhood, and moments like this, with nothing to worry about but which sandwich to eat first, were the moments they cherished the most.

"Pass the lemonade!" Claire grinned, already reaching for the pitcher before anyone else could.

Amelia laughed. "You always go for the lemonade first."

"Because it's the best!" Claire poured herself a tall glass, splashing a little in the process, but no one cared. It was too beautiful of a day to worry about a few drops.

Hannah looked up from her book, a soft smile playing on her lips as she glanced at her friends. "It's hard to believe we all finally managed to get together like this. Life's been so hectic."

Amelia nodded, leaning back on her hands. "Yeah, it's a rare moment. We barely have time to hang out anymore. One of us is stuck in business meetings, another's off in some other country, and the other would be suddenly meeting her boyfriend's parents at Ghana." She chuckled. "We're not exactly free like we used to be."

"True," Hannah agreed joining with her her. "We've become really busy unlike when we were seven."

"So, Miss 'I-read-24/7,' you better put that book down now," Claire teased, her words muffled by the straw stuck between her teeth as she sipped her lemonade. "You can finish it later when we're gone."

Hannah smiled sheepishly, holding up her book defensively. "Just one more page. The scenery here perfectly matches the romance I'm reading." Without waiting for a response, she went right back to her novel. Amelia and Claire exchanged amused glances, shaking their heads as they chuckled.

"Something never change." Claire said.

"Nope." Amelia replied.

They spent the next hour talking, laughing, and basking in the warmth of the sun. Everything was easy and light—stories of their latest adventures, a little gossip about work, boys, future plans, new trends of fashion and a little bit of what they were. 

"Remember when we used to come here as kids?" Claire asked, a nostalgic look in her eyes. "We thought the park was the whole world."

Amelia chuckled. "Yeah, and we thought we'd never grow up."

"We were so naive." Hannah shook her head, but she was smiling.

The afternoon wore on, the chatter and laughter swelling as the plates emptied. Good conversation and fond memories seemed to rise with every bite, filling the air as the food slowly disappeared. Amelia stood up and stretched, a sense of contentment lifting her spirits, making her feel almost weightless as she turned toward the park's entrance.

"Oh, look! The ice cream truck's here," she said, pointing toward the street. "Anyone want something?"

Claire immediately shot up. "Yes! I'll take vanilla."

"I'm coming with you," Hannah added, standing and brushing off her jeans.

Amelia smiled and jogged ahead. The music from the truck played a cheerful tune as she approached, already imagining the cool sweetness of strawberry ice cream melting in her mouth.

She reached the truck and opened her mouth to speak. But suddenly something felt... wrong.

The world seemed to dim. The sun was still shining, the children still laughing, but something in the air shifted. A chill crept down Amelia's spine.

The ice cream man smiled at her from behind the counter, but his smile was just a little too wide, a little too forced. His eyes... his eyes didn't match the grin. They were cold, empty, as if no light reached them at all.

Amelia blinked, shaken but unsure why. She glanced back to where Claire and Hannah were, but they were gone. The blanket, the picnic... all gone.

"Strawberry, right?" the man asked in a voice that sounded wrong, like it was struggling to be human.

Amelia shook her head, feeling dizzy, her chest tightening. "Where... where are my friends?"

The man's smile grew impossibly wider, his teeth too sharp. "What friends?"

Amelia stumbled back, her heart pounding. She spun around, looking for Claire, for Hannah, for anyone... but the park was empty. No children, no families. The laughter was gone, replaced by an eerie silence that swallowed the sound of her own breathing.

Her hands trembled as she backed away from the ice cream truck. "This isn't real," she whispered to herself. "It was perfect... it was perfect just a moment ago."

The man stepped out of the truck, his figure towering and twisted now, shadows crawling around his feet like living creatures. He tilted his head, still grinning that monstrous grin.

"This is the reality," he said, his voice deepening into a guttural growl, distorting like something clawing its way out from beneath human flesh. "You've been living in the lie. But now... now you're awake."

And the ice cream seller began to shift. 

His skin rippled, contorting unnaturally as his face twisted, bones cracking loudly beneath his skin. His limbs lengthened and distorted, fingers stretching out like grotesque claws. His eyes, those cold, empty pits, remained fixed on her, growing wider and darker with every second. 

Amelia backed away.

"No... no, no, no," she whimpered, her vision blurring with terror as the man's mouth split open, revealing rows of jagged teeth, the grin now too wide, too stretched, pulling at the edges of his face, flesh bubbling and tearing as he grew taller, darker, more horrifying.

Amelia clutched her head, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the world around her spiraled into chaos. The sky turned black, the sun snuffed out like a candle. She stumbled, falling to her knees as the ground beneath her trembled and cracked open, revealing nothing but a deep, yawning void.

The figure loomed over her, a hideous mix of writhing shapes—claws, fangs, shadows, and faces she couldn't comprehend. Each new form was worse than the last: a grotesque hand reached toward her, its touch ice-cold, sinking into her skin like needles.

Amelia screamed, her body convulsing as darkness began to envelop her, the monstrous figure closing in. Her pulse thundered in her ears, deafening.

BEEP!

Amelia's scream choked off as everything around her began to flicker, stuttering like a dying projector. Her body trembled violently, convulsing as a sharp pain jolted through her chest. The noise grew louder—beeping, machines whirring, voices shouting.

BEEP... BEEP...

"She's seizing!"

"Push two of lorazepam, now!"

 Suddenly, everything around her fractured like broken glass, the monstrous ice cream seller dissolving into shards of light. The deep growl was replaced by frantic voices, the darkness giving way to bright, sterile light. She could feel her limbs jerking uncontrollably, her muscles spasming as something cold and metallic pressed against her skin.

An oxygen mask.

"Her vitals are stabilizing."

The shapes of doctors and nurses moved around her. Blurry but urgent. The sounds of beeping machines slowed, the rapid pace of her heartbeat evening out. Amelia gasped for air, her chest heaving as her body began to settle, the grip of the nightmare slowly releasing her.

The darkness receded fully, leaving only the blinding white lights of the hospital room.

Amelia blinked, her eyes adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights above her. Her chest ached, her throat raw, but she was alive. She was... here.

She blinked again, her vision sharpening. And there, standing beside her, was him. The doctor. 

Her breath caught in her throat. He looked exactly like the ice cream man she had seen in her nightmare. The only difference, he now wore scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck, his expression calm, professional. His eyes, no longer hollow and menacing, were filled with concern as he studied her vitals.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, his voice no longer distorted but smooth, kind, and reassuring.

Amelia's heart raced again, confusion flooding her mind. Was it real? Was any of it real?

She tried to speak, but her voice was weak, barely a whisper. "You... I..."

The doctor gave her a small, comforting smile. "You had a seizure. But we've got you stable now. You're safe."

Safe.

The word echoed in her mind, but something felt wrong. She looked back at the doctor. His smile lingered a little too long, stretching unnaturally at the edges.

That grin—alas, it was still monstrous.

A/N: Happy Halloween I guess :)