Every Halloween for as long as anyone could remember, someone went missing. It was shrugged off as coincidence, that Halloween was an opportunity for a kidnapping. But those who were taken were never found, and no evidence ever came up to point towards a kidnapper. It was like they simply vanished.

One Halloween night when you were a child, you remember walking along with your friends. You were separated from them by accident and wandered through a secluded area of the city.

Suddenly, someone grabbed you, placing their hand over your mouth and hefting you up in their arms. You tried to scream, kicking out with your legs, but they were too strong. They carried you into a dark alleyway and deposited you on the ground.

You whirled around to face your captor, trembling in fear. He looked like a normal person, but his skin and eyes seemed odd. They were waxy and somehow didn't quite seem right. You tried to scoot away from your captor, but behind you came the voice of someone else.

"No, not that one," a smooth voice said from the shadows.

The man with the strange skin scoffed, crossing his arms, "You've never been picky before. Why now?"

"You must never harm this one," the voice responded almost gently, "Take [him/her/them] back."

"Fine," the man responded. He reached for you. You tried to evade him, whimpering in fear. He growled in anger, "Come here, you little mongrel."

From the shadows came a growl. Suddenly, you were scooped up in gentle arms, pulled into the shadows. "It's okay, little one," the being cooed softly, carrying you towards the entrance to the alley. The shadows moved around them as though they were part of them. The being deposited you gently just outside of the alleyway. "Run along. There's no need to be afraid."

You could not see their face, but their eyes glowed red from the shadows. A moment later, they were gone. And you were alone on the street.

Years had passed. Now, as an adult, you stood at the entrance to that same alleyway on Halloween night.

You had never dared come back for so many years, but something about tonight had drawn you to this place.

You cautiously entered the alleyway, eyes searching through the darkness. Had all those things really happened? Or was it the overactive imagination of a child?

But a smooth voice came from the shadows then, confirming your suspicions. "Hello, little one."

The bar was the only place in the city where heroes and villains could both go to without fear of being attacked by their enemies. Not because they formed a truce or anything like that, but because they all feared the Bartender more than they hated each other.

The two of us were inseparable from a young age. We were two halves of the same coin: dark and light, strong and smart, responsible and rebellious. Our differences made us stronger, our similarities made us better. We thought it would never end.

But this isn't a story about how we became friends.

It's a story about how we became enemies.

And ANGST!

For your daily skin care

Your comments crack me up!

It started out as a simple poker game.

You had played before, of course. Some would even say you were quite good. But you'd never played with something so important on the line. It was a family heirloom, the last piece of your mother. She had passed it on to you, but before you'd had a chance to claim it, your step-father had pawned it. After that happened, you never expected to see it again.

But when you saw the one-of-a-kind piece of jewelry worn by one of the VIPs entering a crowded casino, you'd done everything you could to sit at the same table as them. It hadn't been an easy task, but now you had a chance to win it back.

The game had been heated. You won the first two rounds, your heart pounding at the sums your opponent was able to bet with. The third round, you removed a heavyset gold ring from your finger and placed it on the table. It was beautiful, inlaid with diamonds. You had stolen it from your step-father before you'd left home.

"Why don't we throw in something a little more personal?" You recommended boldly.

Your opponent's eyes narrowed, fingers touching the piece you had been looking for. Obviously, they had noticed your longing gazes. But, cruelly, they plucked a ring from their finger instead, placing it in the center.

You opened your mouth to protest, but they held up a long finger, "Nothing on this table is worth the piece you're after."

"Then what is?" You demanded.

Their eyes glittered, "You have only one thing to bet that is of equal value."

"Name it."

With a grin that seemed inhuman, they growled, "Yourself."

You stared, eyes widening in shock. But, as you looked over your cards, you decided it was a gamble you had to take. It was unlikely that they would win this round. "Fine."

They placed your mother's jewelry on the table, eyes shining with a sort of glee. With your heart pounding in your chest, you resumed the round.

You stared at the cards on the table, heat searing along your skin. You'd lost.

Your opponent grinned, something about their attractive face seeming off, somehow. "It seems I've won."

"What- what happens now?" You stammer, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. The loud sounds of other patrons nearby was nothing in comparison to the roaring of blood in your ears.

"It seems you belong to me, now," they get to their feet, collecting their earnings. They replace your mothers jewelry on their person, the gemstone gleaming as it caught the light. Their eyes flash back up to yours, sending a shiver down your spine. You still haven't moved, too shocked to do anything other than wait.

"But... what does that mean? What- what should I do now?"

The question seems to please them. They smile, sauntering around the table until they were towering over you. You tremble as they reach for you, hand stopping a mere inch from your skin. They pull back, their smile disappearing, "Go home. Come back with any of your belongings you treasure. Anything else will be left behind."

"We're... leaving?" You can't seem to wrap your mind around it.

They nod slowly, "You have loved ones you need to say goodbye to?"

"No one," you admit, your head lowering.

"Then we will leave tomorrow," they decided.

"And my job? I don't have any money," you motion to the table in front of you, every last dime having been spent in the futile attempt to retrieve your mother's jewelry.

"Don't worry about that," they tell you. "You're mine, now. You won't be needing money or a job anymore."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you stay silent, still staring down at the table.

"I'm staying here at the casino. In the penthouse. Arrive by 8 tomorrow morning." They commanded. They didn't seem worried that you wouldn't show, although you weren't sure why. They didn't even know your name. "Goodnight," they vanished into the crowd, leaving you dumbstruck at the table.

"What have I done?" You whisper to yourself, staring at your hands. "What the hell have I done?"

How did i never found this before?? This one's GREAT

Thanks!

It started out as a simple poker game.

You had played before, of course. Some would even say you were quite good. But you'd never played with something so important on the line. It was a family heirloom, the last piece of your mother. She had passed it on to you, but before you'd had a chance to claim it, your step-father had pawned it. After that happened, you never expected to see it again.

But when you saw the one-of-a-kind piece of jewelry worn by one of the VIPs entering a crowded casino, you'd done everything you could to sit at the same table as them. It hadn't been an easy task, but now you had a chance to win it back.

The game had been heated. You won the first two rounds, your heart pounding at the sums your opponent was able to bet with. The third round, you removed a heavyset gold ring from your finger and placed it on the table. It was beautiful, inlaid with diamonds. You had stolen it from your step-father before you'd left home.

"Why don't we throw in something a little more personal?" You recommended boldly.

Your opponent's eyes narrowed, fingers touching the piece you had been looking for. Obviously, they had noticed your longing gazes. But, cruelly, they plucked a ring from their finger instead, placing it in the center.

You opened your mouth to protest, but they held up a long finger, "Nothing on this table is worth the piece you're after."

"Then what is?" You demanded.

Their eyes glittered, "You have only one thing to bet that is of equal value."

"Name it."

With a grin that seemed inhuman, they growled, "Yourself."

You stared, eyes widening in shock. But, as you looked over your cards, you decided it was a gamble you had to take. It was unlikely that they would win this round. "Fine."

They placed your mother's jewelry on the table, eyes shining with a sort of glee. With your heart pounding in your chest, you resumed the round.

You stared at the cards on the table, heat searing along your skin. You'd lost.

Your opponent grinned, something about their attractive face seeming off, somehow. "It seems I've won."

"What- what happens now?" You stammer, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. The loud sounds of other patrons nearby was nothing in comparison to the roaring of blood in your ears.

"It seems you belong to me, now," they get to their feet, collecting their earnings. They replace your mothers jewelry on their person, the gemstone gleaming as it caught the light. Their eyes flash back up to yours, sending a shiver down your spine. You still haven't moved, too shocked to do anything other than wait.

"But... what does that mean? What- what should I do now?"

The question seems to please them. They smile, sauntering around the table until they were towering over you. You tremble as they reach for you, hand stopping a mere inch from your skin. They pull back, their smile disappearing, "Go home. Come back with any of your belongings you treasure. Anything else will be left behind."

"We're... leaving?" You can't seem to wrap your mind around it.

They nod slowly, "You have loved ones you need to say goodbye to?"

"No one," you admit, your head lowering.

"Then we will leave tomorrow," they decided.

"And my job? I don't have any money," you motion to the table in front of you, every last dime having been spent in the futile attempt to retrieve your mother's jewelry.

"Don't worry about that," they tell you. "You're mine, now. You won't be needing money or a job anymore."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you stay silent, still staring down at the table.

"I'm staying here at the casino. In the penthouse. Arrive by 8 tomorrow morning." They commanded. They didn't seem worried that you wouldn't show, although you weren't sure why. They didn't even know your name. "Goodnight," they vanished into the crowd, leaving you dumbstruck at the table.

"What have I done?" You whisper to yourself, staring at your hands. "What the hell have I done?"

You always imagined your soulmate to be this wonderful, kind person. You thought you might run into them in public. Maybe at work or even while you were out running errands.

What you didn't expect, however, for your soulmate to already know you. In fact, they've known who you are for years. They've kept tabs on your whereabouts and never made themself known... Until now.

It started with small things. The rent on your tiny apartment kept you busy. Sometimes, you skipped meals to keep the lights on. You didn't have a car, instead walking to work and school or riding your beat up old bike. Occasionally, food would show up on your doorstep. It was a blessed treat, usually the type of food you wouldn't buy for yourself. You were managing to keep your head above water just barely until you lost your job.

It was the worst week of the semester. You were in the middle of studying for finals and you had a ton of work to do. It wasn't your fault, really. You'd been fired after a Karen badmouthed you in front of the district manager. When the first of the month rolled around, you tried to pinch together what meager savings you had. But when you approached your landlord with your rent, you were informed that it had already been paid in full.

Stumped, you returned to your job hunt. You couldn't be sure it actually was your soulmate looking out for you. Maybe it was a mistake. But that night, dinner arrived on your doorstep. And with it, a single red rose.

The gifts continued for a long time after that, usually just things you needed when you needed them most. Food, new shoes, a new bike helmet when the buckle on your old one snapped. But then, sometimes it was something romantic. A rose, a t-shirt from your favorite band, a book you'd been wanting to read but hadn't had enough spare money to go and buy. You didn't know what to think of it.

Who was this person? Why did they keep themselves secret?

Knowing they must have been watching you somehow, you began writing them thank you notes. You stuck them under your doormat, sticking out just barely so that your admirer would see it. The first time you did it, the note disappeared that very same night.

You never got a response, but you started writing the notes every time your admirer left something for you. Even if you couldn't pay them back for their kindness, you still wanted to thank them.

One day, something different arrived on your doorstep. It was an invitation of some sort, your name scrawled on the front in elegant, lilting cursive. On the inside was a single card. The paper was smooth and white, embossed with gold lettering. All that was written was a date, time, and location.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you thought perhaps you would finally get to meet this person. You marked the meeting on your calendar. It was in two days, on one of your only off days. You eagerly counted down the minutes.

Prompt #2668

“You can’t- you can’t fucking buy me!”

“Thank you, beloved nemesis,” said the villain in their favourite mocking tone, “for rescuing me from a slave auction by spending an exorbitant amount of money on my stupid ass.”

The hero flushed, their blustering almost knocked of course. “I, well, I- what were you doing at an auction in the first place!”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s not like a friend-of-a-friend saw your name come up on the advertisements and contacted me to let me know my idiot nemesis was up for sale. Honestly, it’s like you’re allergic to gratitude. You’d be too busy screaming to deliver this inane lecture if [supervillain] had bought you instead.”

The hero froze in their shackles. “[Supervillain] is here?”

“Yes, but don’t worry.” The villain glanced down the hallway impatiently for the cashier to return. The auction must be just about over and the villain very much wanted to be gone before the final gavel. “They dropped out of the bidding as soon as it got a bit too rich. Guess you don’t matter as much to them as you thought.”

“Huh.” The hero gave their head a shake, as if trying to clear it. “Lemme see if I track you here, chief. You’re saying [supervillain] helped run up the price, then bowed out to let you pay the bill?”

The villain blinked. “Um…”

The hero narrowed their eyes. “Hey, on a totally unrelated note, does this seem to be taking a really long time?”

“If you’re suggesting I’m being set up, the house wouldn’t allow that. This place is professional!” Still the villain found themselves up on their feet, scoping the exits, listening for incoming threats. It was quiet. It was really, really way too quiet.

The hero rolled their eyes. “Oh, glad we can rely the underground slave auctioneers to do right by you. Get me out of this.”

“Oh, if it will make you feel better,” said the villain breezily as they scrambled to unchain the hero. “Out of idle curiosity, what exactly are you capable of right now?”

“Fuck all,” said the hero, staggering as they climbed to their feet. The villain was forced to catch them as they lurched. “They’ve got me drugged to the gills with something suppressing my powers.”

“And yet they left your mouth working,” the villain muttered. “Okay. Not that everything isn’t fine and normal and going to plan, but just to stop your complaining, we’re cutting up two floors and then out through the loading dock.” They drew their back-up gun. “You know how to use one of these? That’s the shooty end, that’s the squeezy end.”

“I hate you so much,” the hero grumbled but curled mostly steady fingers around the gun’s grip. “[Supervillain] is going to kick your ass and I can’t even enjoy it cause they’re coming for me next.”

“Maybe if you were nicer you’d get better knights in shinier armor.” The villain slung the hero’s arm over their shoulder. “Okay, you ungrateful bastard. Let’s go.”