The village was in a delirium that night. On all Hallow's eve, it belonged to the covenant.

A gold harvest moon smirked down upon the fields of pumpkins. The moon was so big, so bright that night that only a few braves stars dared to challenge it as their music danced across the little village captured in a time long ago.

Jesters juggling fire led the parade of freaks and supernaturals, their smiles ear to ear. Behind them were the noble clan of vampires, including the ringmaster and his wife. The sorcerer's chatted with one another behind them, handsome in their white coats baring their symbols.

As the witches followed suite, the youngest one amids their group stared at the spectacle happening all around them.

The pumpkins shook and quaked in their tendril graves. The orange entities grew smiles for the parade saluting them, their eyes all laughing and glowing the colors of the night.

Surrey shivered as tall, shadow like monsters walked by them. The karakuri always frightened her; their animal masks seemed demented in the fall night.

The trees whispered all around them, their limbs bare. All the leaves were spiraling about the parade, golds, reds and blacks.

A cold wind kissed their bare shoulders as Surrey and her mother watched the gargoyles' mouths bubble with a sweet smelling crimson foam before letting it froth to the ground on either side of the parade.

“The circle will be expecting a grown woman tonight, not a silly little girl,” her mother whispered as the dancing lights flickered in the clearing ahead.

Surrey nodded, her long, black bangs spilling across her blue eyes. She felt the same fear as always whenever the harvest moon peeked from the clouds.

A faint music crept across their bare shoulders as they stepped into the mist of their brothers and sisters. The seraphs drew the most beautiful of tones from their instrument.

Her mother shouted a greeting to the others as the wind made her creamy black tendrils shiver.

The younger girl blushed and kept her eyes on the ground. She tried instead to focus on the beauty of the lake as it sparkled through the trees instead of how much more beautiful her mother was in the black Victorian dress than she was in her soft blue one.

The crowd filled a small clearing down by the edge of the lake after walking down a stone stairwell engraved a long the moss covered stone wall that provided the lookout to the lake.

Crows streaked from the sky, clustering close together until a form writhed into existence. The woman looked out to them, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Well, welcome everyone to the gathering of the covenant. Please enjoy yourselves on this perfectly dark night. We await the arrival of our most infamous guest.”

Surrey waited until the woman had said her bit and she was alone with her mother once more. “What was she talking about, mother?”

Serena looked down at her daughter, “Every five years when the covenant gathers, the Witch King comes and blesses us with his simple attendance. Once we take our masquerade upon the lake, he chooses someone to dance with. There is no higher honor, Surrey.”

She looked at her disdainfully, knowing the King would sooner laugh at her shy, fumbling daughter than choose her to dance.

The younger girl tried to ignore her mother's glare, looking out at the lake instead. It took a while, but soon she felt her mother leave her side and blend in with the rest of the witches.

She sighed, resting her head against one of the vague trees sprawled about in the clearing. “Witch King...” Her eyes had only been shut a second before she heard the hoarse whinny.

She looked curiously out upon the lake, gasping as she saw as a chariot gliding across the placid water.

The pumpkins turned and stared, their eyes like a tapestry of orange stars as the chariot grew closer. At the helm was the death fairy Ankou, his head bowed silently as the four horses plummeted forward.

Her eyes barely had time to widen before it screeched to a halt before her and the door was slung open. “Oh shi-!”

A man stepped from the shadows of the black chariot. He was tall and dressed like man from the masquerade era. His shirt was white with ruffles, his pants the same shade of faded black as the cape draped tenderly over his broad shoulders.

He turned his face down to her. He was wearing a strange mask that somewhat resembled a pumpkin with no eyes. She couldn't see any of his face, only a black hole where she assumed his eye was. A mane of long red hair flew in the wind.

It took her a moment as she heard almost every go to their knees. This was the Witch King.

Surrey blanked. She could feel her mother praying to every god and goddess she could think of for her naive daughter to bow, but Surrey's knees wouldn't obey.

The witch king stepped down from the railing by the lake. His blind face was turned down right at her, making him seem even more dominating. His height already added to that.

A long silence came. Surrey turned slightly, hoping some others were still standing; only two,

the ringmaster and his wife.

She cried out as the Witch King wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her forward. Her whole body began to tremble as her feet left the ground. “H-Hey!”

A shiver crossed her whole body as the mask touched her face and she heard a dark, quiet voice murmur, “Dance?”