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A creak from the floor. A knocking at the window. Someone breathing inside your armoire. Nothing new. Still, somehow the autumn air made these happenings much more nerve-wracking. The manor had ghosts, of course. Everyone knew that. Normally that pushed the inhabitants to stay in their rooms, away from the possibility of harm. On such a day, one would think they’d be extra careful.
And really, most of them wanted to be. Most of them.
The tapping on the door made Victor nearly jump out of his skin. He held on tight to himself, glancing over his back to the entrance of his room. Wick barked loudly, tail wagging. It couldn’t be anyone too threatening then, if their smell didn’t ward off Wick.
Victor cracked the door open, peeking out to find the Gardener standing there with a smile and a stack of blank papers. “Good morning, Mr. Grantz,” she said.
‘Good morning,’ Victor signed, nice and slow so that she was sure to catch it. Most of the survivors understood Victor’s situation and worked diligently to be able to communicate with him. Even for those who had a difficult time with sign, he could at least write to them.
It seemed that’s just what Emma had in mind. “Do forgive the intrusion, but I have a favor to ask of you.” Victor tilted his head. “Yes, you know the date, don’t you?” A nod. “It’s October 29th! Two days until Halloween.” Emma held up two fingers to illustrate her point. “I just love Halloween, don’t you?”
Victor smiled even wider than he already was, nodding enthusiastically. Back at home, Victor was always the person to go above and beyond with costumes and parties. He loved to dress up. One year he was a vampire, another year a demon. It was fun to be absolutely wicked, at least just for a day.
“What do you think,” Emma leaned closer, “of us having a party? For everyone, hunters and survivors alike. Sort of a bonding opportunity for all of us. Things are so darn tense around here, what with being locked in a death battle and all. We should get a few days out of the year where we can all get together and have fun.”
A party? Victor scrunched his eyebrows. With everyone? It was difficult enough getting all of the survivors in one room, but with the hunters too...Victor nearly shuddered at the thought.
Although, that would give him an opportunity to see him.
Victor shuffled his feet as the hunter popped into his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t have feelings for someone on the opposing team, but he just couldn’t help himself. Classic Romeo and Juliet situation, right? He smiled, cheeks turning a light pink as he imagined going to a party with Joseph. They didn’t get to spend time with each other much outside of matches. Even in the game, it was difficult to be together. Whenever Victor was on the team composition, Joseph would end up friendly. Well...friendly to everyone on a good day, friendly only to Victor on a bad one. Either way, he never swung. Which led Victor to get the glimmer of hope that maybe Joseph also liked him.
They met on a few instances outside of matches. Usually by chance, in passing. They would exchange a few words (with great difficulty, since English wasn’t Joseph’s first language and Victor couldn’t, well, speak at all) and be on their way.
Not much, really. Certainly not enough to spark anything. Against the odds, it did. At least for Victor.
Maybe he was just new to this. Maybe he wasn’t used to having feelings for anyone. That was certainly true. He used to be too busy with work, now he was too busy with the game to really consider anyone for a romantic partner. Something about Joseph was just so alluring, so captivating, that Victor’s heart and mind couldn’t help but wander to thoughts of them together.
“Mr. Grantz?” Emma asked, bringing him back to reality and the task at hand. “Did you hear me?”
Victor nodded, not wanting Emma to realize he’d zoned out thinking about the object of his affection. How embarrassing.
A bright look came across Emma’s face. “Oh, wonderful, I knew you’d agree.” She shoved the papers into Victor’s arms, then clapped her hands. “Make sure the invitations are each personalized, if you would. But relay the message loud and clear! Remember, the 31st at eight at night. Make sure everyone has enough energy to stay awake for the witching hours.” She wiggled her fingers in front of Victor’s face. “I’ll prepare the decorations, Mr. Morton and Mr. Baden can prepare food. Oh, how exciting, how wonderful, a Halloween party!” Before Victor could even try to question her more, she was skipping off, humming some spooky tune to herself.
Victor stared at the stack of papers in his arms. It seemed he was writing party invitations to everyone, hunters and survivors alike. With a sigh, Victor went back into his room and got to work. With only two days to write so many letters, he had better get started right away.
He wasn’t sure if Emma wanted one herself, so he began with that.
‘Dear Ms. Woods,
You are cordially invited-’ No, much too proper.
‘Ms. Woods,
There’s a party!’ Too straight forward.
‘Boo!’ How lame can you get.
Leaning back in his chair, Victor took a deep breath. He reached down to scratch Wick’s ears, thinking to himself. What was the best method to write a Halloween party invitation? Something formal yet fun. Something scary yet suitable. Soon, Victor picked up the pen and tried once more.
‘Ms. Emma Woods,
Do not bother to wonder how I happen to know your name. I know a great many things.’ Victor couldn’t help but chuckle as he wrote that line. ‘Oletus Manor would be delighted to see you come to the dining area on October 31st, that is, Halloween night. I assure you, your sanity is our top priority. We will be sure to ruin it quite thoroughly.
The festivities will begin at 8 p.m. I would hate to imagine what might happen to you were you absent, my dear.
Sincerely yours,
Specter’
Specter? It would seem Victor was taking on a pseudonym for this task. Just as he began to copy the letter onto another piece of paper, Emma’s words rang out in his mind. She said the invitations should be personalized. How to do that…
‘Mr. Freddy Riley,
The late Leo Beck would enjoy seeing you come to the dining room on Halloween night for a departing word.’
‘Mr. Leo Beck,
Mr. Freddy Riley will be in attendance on the 31st. It would do us all a great honor if you might join him, either in person or in spirit.’
That was a fun start. Victor went on, personalizing each invitation. If someone didn’t want to come, maybe they would anyway, just to see who wrote such a provocative letter. He went through the hunters and survivors, writing letter after letter. Soon enough he was finished. Two days worth of work done in one night. Such is the product of passion.
Well, actually, he wasn’t completely done. No, there was one more letter to write, one that he had been agonizing over since starting the task. Victor stared at the blank paper in front of him, hand shaking slightly as he held the pen over the parchment. How was he supposed to personalize a letter to Joseph without making it entirely embarrassing? He tried to think of how he could make it ominous, scary, even just flat out fun. And he couldn’t. The only thought that swam in Victor’s mind was how he wanted to confess his feelings.
He took a breath and shakily began to write.
‘Dear Mr. Desaulniers,’ No.
‘Hey Joe,’ What the hell?
Victor ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it would be best to be honest. Maybe he should just write from the heart.
‘Dear Joseph,’
That was a good start.
‘Happy Halloween! I don’t know if you celebrate, but Ms. Woods asked me to write letters inviting everyone to a Halloween party in the dining room on the 31st. If nothing else, I think it would be a wonderful opportunity for everyone to get together in peace for once.’ Victor tapped the pen against the paper as he thought. ‘Forgive me, for every other letter I put on a persona. A sort of air. I called myself a silly name and taunted the recipient. I can’t seem to do that for this one, however. I hope you don’t mind too terribly.
‘Why can’t I treat you like the others? Well, simply put, you’re different.’ Victor found himself blushing as he wrote it. ‘I can remember our first meeting. It was before one of my beginning matches here. You came to visit the table, and I remember the way you looked at me with that damn cocky smirk. You made my heart leap into my throat. And then you spoke. Oh, if I could engrave that voice inside my mind forever, I think I would. It was French. I only understand a little, not enough to know what you said to me. Most likely a threat. But you know, it’s such a romantic language I couldn’t help but be mesmerized.
‘I don’t speak. You know that. At least not in the traditional way. But I can write. Damn, can I write.’ He had to grab his wrist for a moment to still his shaking hand. ‘Since we aren’t able to speak, let me write.
‘We spent that night together in August, remember? It was an accident. We happened to both be traversing the outdoors at night, me to walk my dog and you to take pictures of the wilderness. Neither of us spoke. We exchanged a look, a nod, and stood by each other for a moment.
‘I wanted to reach out and hold your hand then. You looked so cold. I would have liked to share some of my warmth with you.
‘Joseph, I know we haven’t spoken much at all. But I feel very drawn to you. You seem so human in your sadness and your anger and your fear. You’re beautiful.’ Victor sucked in a breath. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he wrote again.
‘I wish I had written you this letter sooner and on different terms. I wish I were asking you to meet me in private. Maybe up on the balcony when everyone is asleep. I would love to see you, regardless of where it is.’
Pulling back, Victor looked at the paper. He’d filled both sides and was blushing like crazy. He’d never done something like this before, but somehow he felt it came naturally. At least he hoped it did. Maybe this letter was strange or awkward. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. But it was too late and he was out of paper.
He went on, ‘Again, the 31st at 8 p.m. in the dining room. I hope to see you there.
‘Sincerely,
‘Victor Grantz’
For a long time, Victor stared at the letter. He shouldn’t send it. Of course he shouldn’t. So mushy, so sappy. What if Joseph had no idea what he was talking about? What if he didn’t remember their first meeting or their midnight meetup. Maybe Joseph already had someone, or would simply never have eyes for Victor. This was risky.
He shouldn’t send it, he really shouldn’t.
But before he could change his mind, Victor sealed it in an envelope and handed it off to Wick, who scurried over to the hunters’ side of the manor.
Once the dog was gone, Victor dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t help but be afraid that he’d made a terrible mistake.
Nothing. Two days passed and no reply. Was he expecting one? Really? Well, apparently. The morning before the party began, Victor found himself absolutely terrified to attend. He wished he’d asked Joseph to write him back. Or handed it to him in person. Anything to see what sort of reaction he would have.
The worst would be if he was angry. Victor could accept if Joseph didn’t have feelings for him. That was no trouble at all. It would be absolutely impossible for him to recover if Joseph grew disgusted with him, if he never wanted to look at him again, if he began to tunnel him in every match instead of never swinging. That was the absolute worst case scenario.
On the other hand, what if Joseph felt the same way? At least a little bit? How wonderful would that be. Maybe they could hold hands. Maybe they could kiss. Maybe they really could meet up on the balcony and have a moment.
Or not. Most likely, Joseph wouldn’t mention the letter. Would probably pretend like he never read it.
Could he even read it? Victor hadn’t thought to think about his reading proficiency in English. Damn, damn, damn, what an idiot.
He couldn’t go. No way. No way in hell could he go to this party. Not if Joseph showed up. What would he even say to him? Well, ha, he wouldn’t say anything, technically. Maybe he should have an apology letter ready. Yes, that was a good idea. Something to say “Sorry about all that, please don’t hate me!”
Just as Victor was digging the paper from his sack to write, there was a knock on the door. Once again, Victor jumped as Wick started to bark. He shushed the dog and pressed his ear against the door, only to hear two familiar voices, neither of which he was all too worried about hearing.
“I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea to have the letters written like this. I mean really? Really?!”
“Mr. Riley, please calm down just for a moment. If we talk to Mr. Grantz, surely-”
The knocking on his door persisted, louder this time. Wick’s tail darted between his legs as he ran to hide under the bed. With a sigh, Victor opened the door just in time to find Freddy’s fist inches from his face.
“Ahem.” He straightened himself out. “I understand it was you who wrote those party invitations.” Victor shrugged, then nodded. “Well! You certainly did a fine job of insulting everyone.”
He only chuckled in response, putting a finger to his lips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please, Mr. Riley, calm down,” Emma urged, holding Freddy’s arm to make sure he didn’t try to punch Victor. “Mr. Grantz was just having fun with his task. Isn’t that right?” A nod in response. “See, he didn’t mean any harm.”
“What I want to know,” Freddy said sternly, “Is why we all got taunts and teases and that damn hunter gets a love letter.”
Victor paled. A love letter? No way. There was no way. How did it get out?
“What?” Freddy asked with a scoff. “You didn’t know? Good thing everyone else in the manor does.”
Everyone?
Emma noticed Victor’s distraught expression and quickly moved to do some damage control. “Mr. Riley, perhaps I can talk to Mr. Grantz about the content of the letters. It was my request, I can handle it.”
“I don’t trust that you can, Ms. Woods.”
Victor held up a hand. He needed to back up. He needed this conversation to stop. ‘Wait,’ he signed, having to carefully control his movements so that Emma could catch them (Freddy didn’t bother to be accommodating). ‘The letter. Everyone?’
“Uh...I’m sure not everyone. But it’s certainly,” Emma’s eyes darted towards the dining area, “a lively topic of conversation.”
Oh god. ‘How?’ When Emma didn’t reply, he signed more aggressively. ‘How?’
“I don’t know how, I-”
“Word is that Joseph couldn’t read it,” Freddy interjected. “So he asked the Bloody Queen to translate for him. For a woman with a slash in her throat, she’s certainly talkative.”
Joseph couldn’t read English.
He couldn’t read English.
Victor dropped his head into his hands, gripping his hair. No way, no way, no way, no way! Freddy laughed to himself, crossing his arms over his chest. “Poor thing...I suppose this is punishment enough. I’m not cruel enough to hound on you when you’re feeling regret already.” He turned, waving as he began to walk back down the hallway. “Don’t write such personal letters next time. Well, I’m off to discuss your private life with everyone at the manor!”
No way.
Victor went to slam the door, but Emma caught it before he could. “Mr. Grantz,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would happen.” Victor held up his hand, signaling for her to be quiet, but she went on. “Really, no one’s saying anything bad. Some people think it’s sweet. You wrote a very lovely letter, Mr. Grantz.”
So she’d read it.
“I think you should come to the party tonight.” He shook his head vigorously. “No, you should, really! The Photographer will be there, I’m sure of it. I think it will be good to see each other after...that.”
Victor swallowed, gripping the door. He felt his face burn and tears nearly brim his eyes. This was ridiculous. He shouldn’t have sent that letter. He knew he shouldn’t have. What a joke!
“Mr. Grantz, it’s okay,” Emma said softly, noticing his distraught expression. “Look...you don’t have to come tonight if you feel too embarrassed. But I think it would be wonderful. The letter really was quite nice. I’m sure the Photographer-”
Victor slammed the door then, careful not to pinch Emma’s fingers but not watching out for much else. In a fit, he threw himself onto the bed, making Wick yelp and jump out from under it. The dog came over, sniffling Victor’s hand which dangled off the bed. No amount of doggy kisses could fix this mess.
He wasn’t going. No way in hell was going to face everyone who had read his confession at a dumb Halloween party, least of all Joseph. No. He wouldn’t go. You’d have to pay him a million dollars to even consider going.
You’d have to pay him a million dollars to pluck that wet envelope from the dog’s disgusting mouth. When Wick came bounding over to Joseph, tail wagging as he slobbered onto the floor, the hunter could only gag.
With great reluctance, he reached out and took the piece of paper. If this wasn’t from Victor, he’d knock down whoever sent him doggy mail.
But it was from Victor. Joseph couldn’t help but smile as he realized that. He peeled open the wax seal, careful not to let his fingers dip into the slobber, and pulled the letter out.
He could catch about every other word. Joseph cursed softly to himself. Victor had written him a novel and he was at the point of reading children’s books. He needed help, as much as he hated asking for it. Mary would be the one to go to for this, since she could properly read English and translate directly into French for him.
He found her talking with Robbie, who was motioning furiously for candy. “You’ve had a snack already, you don’t need candy,” Mary gently scolded.
“Mpph! Mnn!”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man.”
“Mary,” Joseph called out, approaching the two. “I have a favor.”
As she lifted the child into her arms, Mary turned towards Joseph. “A favor? You know I don’t do those for free.”
“Hush up with that.” Joseph handed her the letter, which was only half dry. “I was given a very beautiful letter. So beautiful I can’t make out what it says.”
Mary clicked her tongue. “Am I not always telling you to practice your reading and writing?”
“What good is it now?” Joseph scoffed. “It’s from a survivor, I believe.”
“What a scandal!”
“No scandal, only...Well, I can’t be sure. But no scandal, don’t get excited.”
“No scandal you say? How boring.” Mary flicked the paper out in front of her, her other arm still tight around Robbie. “‘Dear Joseph,’ goodness, how familiar this survivor is with you.”
Joseph found himself blushing. “Read it already.”
So she did. As Mary read the letter, translating each sentiment into Joseph’s native tongue, Joseph found himself suddenly regretting asking her for help. Maybe there was a scandal after all.
Joseph’s mouth went dry. Of course he remembered that first match together. He’d been so distracted by that sunshine hair and those bright eyes that he could barely land a hit on anyone. And of course, of course he could recall their night together. How lovely it had been, just the two of them. If Victor had reached out his hand to him, Joseph would have melted. He wished he had. Maybe that could have been the start of something fun and beautiful and lively.
The balcony? How romantic. Joseph grabbed at his chest as the thought of meeting Victor there after dark came into his mind. This had to happen. How could it not happen? How could he not go to this party?
Easy. Once Mary talked about it to everyone and Joseph was the subject of relentless teasing, it was easy for him to decide he was most certainly not going to that party. Mary told all of the hunters and Robbie told at least one survivor, who told more survivors, so essentially everyone knew that Joseph had gotten a confession.
Burke found him first. Burke of all people. “Hey, no shame in that, you know? Having a little rendezvous with a survivor. I mean, I’d never dream of it, but good for you.”
“Thank you,” Joseph grumbled, not sure of what else to say and wanting the old man off of his back.
“Really, Joseph, you don’t have to be so embarrassed. It’s adorable,” Xie Bi’an offered. “Uh...Fan Wujiu is laughing at you, but pay him no mind. I think it’s nice!”
“Msef ga a bfrn!” Robbie laughed as he jumped from foot to foot. His muffled words roughly translated to “Joseph’s got a boyfriend.”
“I do not have a boyfriend,” Joseph snapped, although the thought of that being true made him grow hot. “It is simply a letter. Just that. I’m sure everyone got something similar.” Silence. “...None of you got...anything like this?”
“We got letters alright,” Burke said, holding his up. “Mine just kinda calls me old.”
“Bonbon got letter,” Bonbon interjected. “Bonbon letter says ‘come to party’. That is all. Bonbon is invited!”
“Shut up, Guard 26.”
“Penpen is also acceptable.”
“Shut up or I’ll turn you off again.”
“Burke, be nice to them, please.”
Joseph was too caught up in his own thoughts to pay attention to the banter. He slowly edged out of the room, mind racing. How humiliating this all was. Yet, of course he didn’t regret receiving the letter. It was good to know he and Victor felt the same way about each other. Now it was just a matter of what to do with that information.
Of course the answer was to find him at the party that night. But what to do? What to wear? What to say? He just didn’t know.
No matter. At eight on the dot, the hunters who had chosen to attend made their way down to the dining room. Joseph’s eyes immediately darted around the room, trying to find Victor. No sign of the Postman. Maybe he was running late.
But minutes turned into hours. Eight became nine, ten, then eleven. Joseph sat at the table, Dovlin bottle loose in his hand. Victor wasn’t coming.
So what was the point of that letter? To make a fool out of him? Most likely. Joseph drank deeply. He didn’t get drunk easily, but he’d had enough by now to make him somewhat tipsy. So Victor didn’t feel anything for him after all, right? It was just some sort of game. Maybe Victor knew the exact way to get him to come.
He knew he shouldn’t have. But how could he not with the possibility of seeing Victor there?
The clock was nearing midnight and still no sign of the Postman. With a sigh, Joseph pushed up from his chair, nearly knocking it over.
“Photographer!” Emma said as she ran over, dressed up in a bedsheet with holes poked into it (she was the only one who had dressed up). “Are you leaving already?”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“But Mr. Grantz-”
“Has fooled me, yes I know.” Joseph slammed the empty bottle on the table, grumbling to himself. “Tell Mr. Grantz to take his letters and shove them up his-”
“Joseph, not in front of Robbie!” Mary cried from across the room. Joseph threw his hands into the air and stormed out of the dining room into the corridor.
And that’s where he found him, leaning against the railing, looking longingly out into the nothingness. Joseph froze, then bolted back into the dining room, swearing under his breath. Victor was there. He was right there, right in plain sight. How long had he been there?
“Joseph?”
He jumped at the voice, turning and sighing in relief to find it was just Xie Bi’an. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Pardon.” Then, he peeked outside, a smile crossing his face. “Oh...there’s your date.”
“Hardly a date.”
“Your lover, then?”
“No...No, nothing is...it’s not like that.”
“Hm.” Xie Bi’an rubbed his chin. “But it should be like that, yes?”
“...I don’t know.”
“Of course it should!” Joseph flinched as Xie Bi’an’s voice dropped. In the blink of an eye, the other one was out. Damn, he was much more rowdy. Especially after a few drinks. Fan Wujiu threw his arm around Joseph, pulling him close. “Listen,” his words slurred. The Black Guard was apparently a lightweight. “When you care, I mean really care, about someone, you know what you do? You go out there and you get them.”
“Get them?” Joseph scrunched his nose.
“Yeah! You go up to that balcony and you say Postman, I want to be with you. You do want to be with him, don’t you? Yeah, of course you do, or else you wouldn’t be acting this way.” Fan Wujiu took a swig of his Dovlin before shoving it into Joseph’s face, urging him to drink. “Here, for courage.” And drink he did. “There you go! Now go out there!”
“Be gentle about it,” Xie Bi’an interjected, using his much softer voice for just a moment. “I’m sure he’s just as flustered as you are.”
“Go on!” They were pushing Joseph out the door now, and once he was out they slammed it behind and held it shut. Joseph gasped, trying in vain to open the door. When he turned around to see if Victor noticed, he found the Postman staring at him, looking absolutely mortified.
With nothing else to do, Joseph ascended the stairway, laughing nervously as he approached Victor. “Um...good evening.” A wave. “Quite the lively party, isn’t it?” A shrug. “...About that letter-”
Victor reached into his sack and quickly pulled out a note. He hung his head and held it out to Joseph. When he took it, Joseph’s head spun. The words blurred together. Victor had written eloquently, and it was entirely lost on Joseph. “I can’t...these words...um…”
Victor smacked his own head with the base of his hand and hurried to get paper and pen. In big, bold letters, he wrote, ‘Sorry!’ accompanied by a scribble drawing of a frowning face.
“Sorry?” Joseph furrowed his brow. “What for?”
‘Letter. Silly. Sorry.’
“I didn’t think it was silly.” Joseph cleared his throat into his hand, patting his chest to clear it. At his back, he felt eyes on him. Surely a few hunters and survivors were looking on from behind the dining room door. “It makes me glad that you think so sweetly of me.” Victor blushed, wringing his hands together as Joseph spoke. “However...there is one thing I cannot forgive.” That made Victor look up, eyes wide and face pale. Joseph only chuckled, cockiness slowly easing back into his being. “You’re late to the party.”
A sigh rushed from Victor’s lips as he hung his head. He turned back to the balcony then, resting his arms on it and leaning against the wooden railing. Joseph took a moment to study him. To look over every lovely feature.
“Did you not want to see me tonight?” He asked in a whisper, afraid to say it. Victor tensed but gave no reply. “I can go if you wish.”
As he turned to walk away, Victor reached out for Joseph’s hand, grabbing it tight. Warmth pooled between them. Both of their eyes stayed glued to where their skin connected. Magic. Sparks. Absolutely wonderful. From their hands they looked up, staring into each other’s eyes.
Joseph sucked in a breath. “Mary read your letter to me. You have beautiful words. I am afraid I don’t have quite the same way of speaking, at least in a way you can understand me. So...pardon me, but I will say it in French.” Squeezing Victor’s hand, Joseph switched languages, and began:
“At our first meeting, I knew I had to have you. You were wonderful and bright, much like the sun. I wanted to take you into my arms then and never let you go. When we met outside, how badly did I wish to turn my camera towards you, so that I would always have something to remember that night by.
“Your words are beautiful, Victor. Even though we can’t understand each other all too well, I feel that I know you. I want to know every inch of you, body and soul. My darling, I want nothing more than to make you mine.”
Of course, Victor hadn’t understood a word of it. But Joseph had said it with such passion and such heart that Victor found himself choked up. He nodded eagerly, as if he had any clue what had been said. Something told him he didn’t have to understand the words, just the feelings.
“A kiss?” Joseph asked, and Victor was on him in seconds, kissing Joseph as well as someone who had never kissed anyone before could. Behind them, a few people applauded, drunkenly cheering for the new couple.