"Where is he?" Emilia ran a hand through her curly hair as she paced around in her gown.

Around her, Spider-Men, Yodas, and Wonder Women went in and out of the frat house, too caught up in their laughter to notice the concerned Emilia.

From behind her colorful mask, she watched eagerly for Nathaniel, but there was no sign of him. It wouldn't have been hard to spot him in the sea of masked faces. After all, they would have been the only ones dressed for the Venice Carnival.

"Ugh," she groaned when she checked her watch. The night was only growing later and not one of her friends was here yet. Not even Christopher, who planned the entire party.

So she continued waiting.

After a few minutes of standing in the cold, Emilia decided she had enough. Heaving a deep sigh, she stormed off the lawn towards Nathaniel's house.

She was so caught up in her thoughts she failed to notice the man coming straight for her and bumped into him.

Emilia startled back. "I'm sorr–" The words instantly faded from her lips as she gazed up at the man.

He was dressed as a plague doctor, which in itself was unusual. But it was how he looked at her from behind his mask that made her freeze.

It was how she imagined a wolf looked at a rabbit before devouring it.

"Excuse me." She pushed past him, wanting to get out of his sight as quickly as possible.

Unnerved by the encounter, Emilia quickened her pace and didn't dare look back. At one point, she tripped over the pavement thanks to her gown but caught herself before completely falling to the ground. This misstep only made her more frantic.

Her breathing came in gasps and her chest heaved up and down. She broke into a run and didn't stop until she reached Nathaniel's porch.

"Nathaniel!" she called out, pounding on the door. "Are you in there?"

She listened for an answer on the other side, but no answer came.

"Nathaniel!" She placed her hand on the doorknob and to her surprise, it turned.

Emilia took a few hesitant steps inside. The first thing she noticed was the bloodstains on the carpet.

"Nathaniel!" she cried out. "Please answer me!

She went further into the hallway and saw the bedroom door open. There was nothing but darkness on the other side.

"I swear to God if this is some sort of prank..." Emilia slowly approached the bedroom.

Leaving the light for the dark, Emilia crossed the threshold and groped for a switch. When her eyes finally adjusted to the sudden brightness, they landed on the motionless figure lying across the bed.

"Nathaniel?"

She took a step closer. One step turned into another and she soon found herself standing over the bed. Her gaze fell to the large cavity in the man's chest.

Right where the heart should have been.

She let out a horrified cry, unable to turn away from the gory sight. Her eyes shifted to the man's face, recognizing it belonged to her beloved Nathaniel.

"Oh–Oh my God." Stumbling back, Emilia's mind barely processed the object in his hand. It was fleshy and covered in blood and veins.

Once she realized exactly what it was, she completely lost it. Her body retched violently as she continued to stagger away from the bed. Her back collided into something solid and stiff. But before she could even let out a scream, an arm shot out and held her in place.

"Shhh," a voice whispered into her ear right as she felt a sharp prick at her neck.

**

It was the cold that woke her, the unbearable cold.

Emilia's eyes fluttered open, only to squint shut from the burning light overhead. Glancing to the side, she noticed her arms strapped to the metal table beneath her. She tried to flex them, but no matter how hard she tried, they would not budge.

Not even an inch.

Panic started to set in, evident by her heavy breathing. Her desperation only increased when she looked down at herself, realizing someone had changed her into a hospital gown.

"Help! Someone!" she screamed. "Is anyone there?"

There was a sudden movement to the side of her. Something tall and dressed in black.

Emilia made a sort of choking noise as the figure emerged into full view.

It was the plague doctor from earlier.

"What–What–" she sputtered, unable to form a sentence.

As he approached the table, Emilia pressed her back into the table, trying to shrink into herself. The plague doctor only stared at her, regarding her attempts to get away from him with amusement.

"Who–Who are you?" She started to kick at him as he pulled up a stool, its legs screeching across the white-tiled floor.

He did not answer. Instead, he gripped her legs and spread them roughly.

"No!" She could feel the tendons in her legs stretching to the point of snapping.

"I know you don't recognize me, Emilia," he finally said. It was enough to make her stop fighting against him.

"I have had many years to plan for this moment and I will not let it go to waste."

"What–How–"

"At first, I thought it was your eyes that doomed you to lust for Nathaniel." As he leaned over her, the beak of his mask grazed her body. She flinched when his gloved hand touched her face, tracing over her eyes. But just as soon as he started, he stopped.

"But it was not your eyes. That is not what causes a woman's desire."

Moving back down, he returned to his stool and placed his hands on her legs.

Emilia's eyes widened. "What–What are you doing?"

His hands slid up her legs–slowly, gently–until they stopped between them.

"No! Anything! Anything but that!" she screamed like never before. "Please, anything but that!"

As she shouted and thrashed around, Emilia's gaze fell upon the wall behind her and she immediately fell silent.

There was a poster, a poster someone had pinned to the drywall with old knives and a dripping scalpel. It displayed the female reproductive system.

She knew then he wasn't going to assault her. It would be something much worse.

Something pressed against her skin, sharp at the edge and cold like metal.

It felt like a blade.

Emilia could barely muster a whisper through her tears. "No... Please... No."

The plague doctor broke his stare from her, going back to his work.

Despite the pain shooting through her right leg, Emilia slowly moved it off the side of the table and rammed it into the man's mask. As he stumbled backward, she did not hesitate to move her other leg and writhe her arm free from the binds.

With one arm free, she tugged at the straps binding the other. Quickly recovering his balance, the plague doctor was already back up, trying to grab her. Balling her right hand into a fist, she swung it straight into his eye, cracking the glass that covered the eyehole. He stood there, momentarily stunned.

Emilia used those precious seconds to untie the remaining straps off. She lept off the table and shoved the man into the counter before fleeing the lab.

Unfamiliar with the medical center, Emilia was running blindly into the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. She ran like she never had before in her life because her life very much depended on it.

There was no need to glance back to know he was right behind her. She could hear his boots stomping over the tiles, closing the distance between them.

But when she saw the exit sign lit above, that spurned her legs to go faster. With a shove of her arms against the handle, Emilia threw herself into the chilly night air.

As much as she wanted to stop and catch her breath, she knew she could not. So she kept running, looking—hoping—to come across someone that could help her. But there was no one in sight on this Halloween night. It was just her and the plague doctor.

Sprinting across the lawn, Emilia headed for the nearest building, the Lancaster Museum.

The back door was unlocked, just as she had left it. In her haste and carelessness, she had forgotten to lock the door. It was not until now—as she was running for her life—did she remember her fortunate mistake.

Not even thinking about turning on a light, Emilia groped her way through the dark maze that was the museum. She cursed under her breath after she bumped into something sharp; her left hip stinging.

Darting behind a nearby shelf, Emilia crouched down on her knees just as the back door swung open. A pair of heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. They maneuvered through the exhibits quicker than she had.

Her hand immediately went to her mouth in an attempt to steady her rapid breathing. Although it was freezing inside, sweat gathered around the nape of her neck and dripped down her back.

The footsteps paused.

Emilia peeked through the shelf, seeing a dark figure standing just inches away from her on the other side. With a strained cry, she used all of her strength to push the shelf on top of the man. As it came toppling over him, Emilia didn't bother sticking around and staggered further into the museum.

She had just entered the medieval exhibit when a sudden force from behind knocked her down. With a groan, she turned over on her back and saw the plague doctor standing over her with his fists clenched.

Emilia tried crawling backward on her elbows, but the plague doctor grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her upwards. She let out a painful scream, trying to pry his hands off her. He gave another tug and started to drag her by the hair.

With the crook of her elbow, she struck him right below the waist in the groin. He instantly doubled over, his instincts reacting before his mind could, and he threw her into a nearby display case. Emilia fell face-first into the glass, smashing it to shards.

Snapping back up to his full height, the plague doctor rushed towards the woman lying in a heap of glass. She was not moving.

He glanced down at her from head to toe, looking for any sign of life. Hands shaking, he reached down to turn her over and begin whatever was necessary to resuscitate her. But just as his glove touched her shoulder, she whipped around and thrust a sword through his stomach.

Eyes wide behind the mask, he glanced down and stared at the red stain seeping through his coat and onto the silver blade. The blood trickled down the sword, puddling onto the floor beneath him. His hand slowly found its way to the wound, and he laced his fingers around the hilt.

A part of him recognized this sword. He had seen it before in one of his many lives.

Gasping like a fish out of water, Benjamin strained to ease the metal from his body. The claymore clattered to the ground with a clash. The doctor fell to his knees, blood oozing down his torso. It formed a sticky pool on the tiles underneath him.

Emilia didn't look much better herself. 

Several red cuts dotted her face, each one dripping blood. Out of breath as well, Emilia took a few shaky steps forward until she was now the one standing over him.

She said nothing as she brought her hands to his face. Not having the strength to resist her, he allowed her to gently tug the white mask off him.

His green eyes were growing hazier by the second and his breathing began to slow, but he still forced himself to meet her burning stare.

Maybe it was the blood loss that made him imagine it, but for a second he saw a fleeting sense of recognition cross her eyes before everything went black.