It's pitch black.

You can barely see the trees in front of you, and you can barely hold the flashlight steadily enough for it to be useful. It's starting to get cold as you crunch through the dead leaves on the forest floor, hugging yourself for warmth. Your own breath fogs up around your face as you walk.

You shouldn't have taken that bet. You shouldn't be messing around in the woods by yourself, at this hour, on Halloween night, for a bet. This is miserable.

You keep walking, a hand outstretched to make sure you don't run into any trees. After what feels like forever, you spot some tall hedges illuminated by the moonlight.



Looks like the place. Albin Manor... The rumor around here is that it's haunted, and the only remaining family member to own it is some old guy who shows up every few years to make sure the place hasn't burned down. Nobody's lived inside it since 1970 or something, though you can't blame them. The place is decrepit - more of a 'bulldoze the lot and start over' than a fixer-upper. You'd made a bet with your friends that you could beat them in a friendly game of Pokemon. Unfortunately, all your monsters were only level 10, so you're stuck here until sunrise.

You didn't even bring your Game Boy. This is going to be a long night.