The Strange Guest by izzywriter2

Nancy manoeuvred smoothly through the throngs of party-goers, flashing a smile where it was needed and greeting someone when social expectations decreed it. She could feel the bass of the music thump from the living room, making it feel as though her whole rib cage was vibrating slightly, not an altogether unpleasant sensation.

This was her third year in a row hosting a Halloween party, and this one was by far the crowning jewel. Since she had begun college, she had been slowly amassing a group of the best - the jocks, the cheerleaders, and the "privileged" - to befriend. Now, everyone who was anyone was attending her parties, especially this one.

The front door cracked opened, and yet another guest entered. Unlike the other costumed college students, however, who had all slipped into Nancy's party relatively unnoticed, this person caused a noticeable stir immediately upon arrival. Nancy herself quickly noticed him; her eyebrows raised slowly as she took in his costume.

He was obviously a man from the build of his body, but his head was covered with a plague doctor mask that even had a few splotches of fake blood on the burlap-looking material. For his outfit, he wore a very strange suit. It was light colored, similar to Nancy's own skin tone, and it only took her a moment of confusion to figure out why - it was fashioned to look like it had been sewn out of several Caucasian human skins.

Nancy shivered. The costume was horrifyingly realistic, and many people surrounding the mysterious guest had taken several large steps away, whispering disbelievingly to their friends.

"Awesome costume, dude!" someone very obviously drunk called out suddenly, and a wordless cheer rose from the vastly inebriated crowd. The tension disappeared within the next few seconds. Nancy sighed in relief and made her way up to the creepily costumed guest.

"Sorry, but who are you?" she asked politely, racking her brain in an attempt to think of someone who would dress in such a costume. She had no clue. All of the other men at the party were wearing costumes that were in some way revealing. There was Percy — a basketball player — dressed in a shredded werewolf costume through which his underwear could be seen. Drew — a linebacker wearing a pirate costume with the shirt hanging wide open - the list went on for quite a while. It was kind of the objective of these types of Halloween parties: to wear an incredibly revealing costume, get ragingly drunk, and leave with someone pretty and equally drunk at the end of the night. This stranger certainly didn't fit the usual style.

He said nothing in response to her question. "Who are you?" Nancy tried again, raising her voice in case he couldn't hear her through his mask or over the thumping music.

Still nothing. Sighing, Nancy shook her head bemusedly and gestured behind her. "The kitchen's that way. There's beer and stuff," she shouted, her mind already wandering off to the list of people she still had to greet. The man nodded and abruptly pushed past her, still not saying a word.

Nancy sighed once more, turning at a tap on her shoulder.

Her best friend, Margot, stood before her, looking at the stranger with an expression that seemed as confused as Nancy felt. "Who do you think he is?" she asked.

Nancy shrugged. "I have no clue."

"Maybe he's ugly and wanted to hide his face," Margot suggested.

Nancy snorted haughtily. "I didn't invite anyone ugly to this party."

"So maybe that was the perfect costume to sneak in with! Ooh, I bet I know who it is - Quinn."

Nancy wrinkled her nose. "Quinn? Like, nerdy Quinn?"

"What other Quinns do you know, genius?" Margot asked dryly, raising her eyebrows as if expecting an actual answer but forging on before Nancy could supply one. "Anyway, I think it's him. You know he's got a huge crush on you, and his acne's so bad that he would totally take advantage of getting to wear a mask like that." Her tone was disdainful as she continued to look in the direction the masked man had traveled, although he was no longer visible.

Nancy nodded slowly. "That makes sense, I guess."

Margot nodded, tapped the side of her nose knowingly, and returned to the living room to resume dancing.

* * *

Throughout the rest of the night, Nancy kept attempting to speak with the masked figure, but to no avail. He was always too far ahead of her for her to reach him before he disappeared into another room, and she was constantly distracted by one or several of her friends attempting to get her attention for various reasons. Everyone she talked to, however, had taken notice of him and had something to say in regards to his costume or unknown identity.

"His costume smells funny," one moderately sober girl told Nancy, nodding her head firmly. "Like, bad funny."

"He won't talk to anyone!" another guest said as if it personally offended her. "He just walks around in that creepy-ass costume."

Nor were the guesses to his identity in short demand.

"He's gotta be that reject from my biology course," one boy said, his words slurring together so much that Nancy had trouble understanding him.

"Nah, man, he's totally this gay dude from history class," his friend interjected confidently.

Defeated, Nancy tried to surrender herself to the music, and then to alcohol, but neither helped, especially seeing as she still had duties to attend to as the hostess. The mysterious man kept invading her thoughts.

Who was he?

* * *

Finally, the party came to a close. Drunk couples began staggering out of Nancy's apartment, the girlfriends clutching their high heels in one hand and leaning heavily on their boyfriends, the boyfriends not looking too steady themselves. Nancy stood by the door and watched them all leave, bidding those who looked her way farewell. She told herself that she was doing it to be a good hostess, but she knew the real reason for her slightly tipsy vigilance: she wanted to ensure that the creepy stranger left her house before she was alone with him.

Margot was one of the last guests to leave - or, attempt to. Nancy grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her aside before she made it through the doorway. "Margot, do you know where the stranger in the weird costume is?"

"You mean Quinn?" she asked, and Nancy nodded rather than explain his identity was still technically unknown. "No, sorry."

Nancy sighed. "Can you stay here with me until he leaves?"

Margot burped, her eyes widening as she clapped a hand over her mouth and clutched her stomach. Nancy instinctively took a step backwards, but her friend shook her head violently and straightened up.

"Never mind. You need to go home before you puke on my carpet. Take an Uber, don't walk," Nancy ordered, watching distastefully as her wasted friend stumbled from her home. Margot wasn't any help in such a state.

She grabbed her phone off of the coffee table in case she needed to quickly contact help and, ignoring the giant mess and still-thumping music she would soon have to deal with, began searching for the masked party-goer.

The front door behind her slammed shut and she jumped skittishly, whirling around.

There he was. The stranger.

And he had closed the door, shutting them both in the apartment together.

Nancy tried to remain calm, tapping at her phone with shaking fingers as she kept her gaze fixed on the man. The device buzzed, and she bit back a curse - she couldn't type in her password blind! She flicked her eyes downward to type in the number sequence. When she looked back up, she shrieked and jumped backwards. The mysterious figure was standing right in front of her.

How did he move so fast? Nancy thought wildly as she began backing up. The man walked toward her. "Take off your mask," she ordered in a shaking voice, abandoning the concept of staying calm. "Or get out of my house. Or both."

The man kept advancing.

"Don't touch me!" Her voice was shrill and strange, even to her own ears. It was painfully, terrifyingly desperate. Please, please, please let me be overreacting. Please let him be a friend or someone I know. At this point, though, she was fairly sure she would punch any of her friends in the face out of pure fury for pulling this kind of crap.

Suddenly, the man swiftly reached out and grabbed the arm that held Nancy's phone. He squeezed her wrist so hard that she shouted with pain. Her fingers loosened and the device fell to the floor, useless.

Tears rose to Nancy's eyes and she bit back a sob. "Please," she whispered brokenly, her wrist aching.

The man grabbed her other wrist and pinned them together with one grip. With his free hand, he slowly pulled a wickedly sharp knife from underneath his suit.

"Please don't hurt me!" Nancy shrieked, beginning to struggle in earnest. "You won't get away with this!" She cringed at the words - how would that classic threat stop this psycho? He couldn't be one of her friends. Using a real knife? That was taking it too far.

This was happening for real.

"Wanna know something about this suit?" the man asked. It was the first time Nancy had heard his voice, and she hated it passionately. It was deep and raspy, sounding as if it had been dragged through Hell and back.

The man leaned forward, pressing the tip of the knife delicately into Nancy's hairline. She whimpered but said nothing.

"It's not a fake," he hissed, and the blade bit into Nancy's skin.

Her screams continued for quite some time before silence fell over the apartment.

***