The gang woke slowly, groggy and disoriented. Their heads throbbed from the strange, dream-like pull that had dragged them moments before. Blinking against the dim, ghostly light of the graveyard, they sat up one by one, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down like a heavy shroud.

Molly groaned, rubbing her aching temples as she looked around uncertainly. "Ugh... what... where are we?"

Callie shook her head, eyes scanning the fog-choked scene. "This... this doesn't feel right."

The thick mist swirled around them, blurring old tombstones whose inscriptions had long since faded into oblivion. The air smelled damp, earthy, and thick with decay. A low murmur floated through the haze, growing steadily louder.

Serena's voice dropped to a tense whisper. "I don't like this... I don't think we're alone."

Through the fog, a strange and unsettling sight emerged. Across the way, a grand table stood draped in tattered black linens, cluttered with grotesque, uneaten food that glistened eerily in the gloom. Around it sat figures—zombies. Some looked recently risen, others ancient and crumbling—but all held their forks and knives with an unsettling, deliberate elegance, as if attending some ghastly dinner party.

RJ's voice barely escaped his lips. "This is... this is too weird."

Ollie's eyes darted nervously among the undead guests. "It's a zombie dinner party! What the hell are we supposed to do now?!"

Before they could answer, the shuffling of feet grew louder. One tall zombie, carrying a regal air despite its decay, rose from the table and began to approach. The others followed, their vacant eyes locking onto the newcomers.

In a slow, groaning voice, the zombie host spoke. "Ah, fresh guests... How lovely. Won't you join us for dinner?"

The gang froze. Their hearts pounded in their chests as panic welled inside them. Should they run? Should they plead? But something about the host's words hinted this invitation was no ordinary meal.

Molly whispered, trembling, "We need to get out of here. Now."

But before they could react, the host extended a bony hand, twisted into a grotesque smile, his decaying face flickering in the candlelight. Around the table, the other zombies groaned hungrily, eager for their new guests.

"I do hope you'll bring a little... flavor to the table," the host chuckled darkly.

Suddenly, a zombie lunged, gripping Molly's wrist with cold, rigid fingers. The others shuffled in, encircling them. The air thickened with the stench of death as the gang was herded toward the creaky, ancient table.

"Hey! Let go of me!" Molly struggled, but her captor's vacant gaze never wavered.

Callie, Serena, Ollie, and RJ were dragged along with similar force, their hearts hammering with fear, knowing one wrong move could seal their fate.

Once seated, the zombies forced them into chairs with unsettling calmness, as if this were a nightly routine. The gang tried to steady themselves, but every nerve screamed to flee.

"Please, help yourselves," the host said with a sick smile, gesturing toward the grotesque feast laid out before them. "It's been so long since we've had such lively guests."

The table was a nightmare: rotten meat, maggot-infested bread, jars filled with what looked like pickled fingers, and pitchers of thick, dark liquid that sent waves of nausea through the group. The zombies were already eating, their slow, mechanical motions and the eerie clinking of cutlery sounding like a death knell.

Callie whispered urgently to Serena, struggling not to gag. "We need to get out of here. There's no way we're eating this."

Serena's voice shook as she replied, "Yeah, but I don't think they're giving us a choice."

The host's gaze bore into them, his eyes gleaming with a sick, unnatural light. His hand hovered over a jar filled with what looked disturbingly like eyes.

"Come now... we are family here. All you need to do is partake, and the feast will truly begin," he said with a twisted grin.

Hands trembling, the gang reluctantly picked up the utensils, minds racing for any escape plan. But the zombies watched every move, and refusal felt impossible.

Ollie muttered under her breath, "I'd rather starve."

The host chuckled softly, savoring their discomfort. "Ah, you still don't understand. This isn't about the food, my dear guests. It's about the company. And the company has been waiting... for so long."

As the dinner dragged on, a cold silence settled over the group. Then, from the corner of the table, a zombie known as The Carcass shifted her gaze toward RJ. Her head lolled slightly, her decayed face marked by tenderness amid the rot. An eerie admiration glimmered in her glassy eyes.

Serena noticed and her voice trembled, "No... no, this isn't happening. This can't be happening."

The Carcass leaned forward, tracing the edge of her plate with decaying fingers, never breaking eye contact with RJ. Slowly, her lips cracked into a twisted, serene smile.

"You have such a handsome face... I see your true beauty, even through all the dirt and grime," she murmured softly. "You could use a little... touch-up, though. I can help you with that, if you like."

Serena's knuckles whitened as she gripped her fork, her whole body trembling. A storm of rage flashed in her eyes—jealousy and fear intertwining.

With a harsh screech, she pushed back her chair and stood. "Don't touch him! You... you're disgusting!"

The Carcass didn't flinch. Her smile widened as if Serena's words meant nothing. Instead, she continued to gaze at RJ with infatuation.

"There's no need to be afraid," she cooed softly. "Beauty is just a matter of perspective, dear. I see the beauty in you. I can help you see it too."

Serena's fury boiled over as she stepped forward, ready to strike, but RJ's uneasy voice stopped her.

"Serena, wait—"

Too late. Serena planted herself firmly between RJ and The Carcass.

"Stay away from him. I won't let you touch him, you freak!"

The Carcass tilted her head, expression unreadable, before sighing softly.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to show him how beautiful he could be."

Serena's rage threatened to consume her as she advanced, but the Carcass remained still, serene, unbothered by the anger.

Suddenly, the rest of the zombies began to chuckle—an eerie, unsettling sound that echoed like whispers in a tomb. The dinner transformed into a twisted performance. They were not just eating; they were watching, judging, analyzing.

The air grew colder. Every move Serena made seemed to deepen The Carcass's fixation on RJ. The group felt the weight of the moment crush down on them, trapped in a sick game they hadn't agreed to play.

Trembling, Serena slumped onto a nearby coffin, fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. Her mind raced with thoughts of the disturbing encounter, the helplessness crawling over her like a shadow. It felt as if the walls of the graveyard were closing in, and the nightmare had only just begun.

The silence wrapped around Serena like a heavy cloak. The distant whispers of the zombies and the rustling of their decaying bodies suddenly ceased, as if the world itself had frozen. Then, piercing through the stillness, came a soft ticking—slow, deliberate—like the steady rhythm of a clock counting down.

From the empty coffin beside her, a creaking sound broke the quiet. Dust puffed into the air as the lid began to lift, inch by inch. Serena's heart skipped. As the lid rose fully, a figure emerged, casting a long shadow in the graveyard's dim light.

It was the Clock.

Tall and oddly neat despite his tattered clothing, he stood with a massive clock where his head should have been. The smooth face ticked hypnotically, the hands moving with relentless precision. Stepping forward, he winked at Serena, as if the grim scene around them was no more than a minor inconvenience.

"Well, well, well... looks like you've got a bit of a situation on your hands, don't you?" he said, voice light and teasing.

Serena blinked, her anger still simmering but now laced with confusion. She stood, brushing dust from her pants, eyes locked on this bizarre figure.

"What do you want?" she demanded, gritting her teeth.

The Clock's grin widened. His hands stilled on his face, as if adjusting the time itself. His tone remained playful, but something darker lurked beneath.

"What do I want? Oh, just a little bit of fun, my dear. This graveyard... it's quite the show, isn't it?"

He stretched, surveying the frozen zombies around the table with amused eyes. Serena, too furious for games, barely listened—her mind fixed on the Carcass and her unsettling stare at RJ.

"I don't have time for this. I need to get out of here—now!" she snapped.

The Clock sighed dramatically, ticking slowing like a reluctant heartbeat.

"Ah, but time is such a tricky thing. You could leave, I suppose... but do you really think you have the time to escape all of this?"

He gestured broadly to the graveyard, to the undead dinner guests, to the thick fog pressing in on them. Serena clenched her fists, frustration rising. She knew he was toying with her, but somehow his calm presence was oddly comforting amid the chaos.

With a cheeky grin, he added, "But, if you're really in a rush... I can help you speed things up. You just have to ask nicely, Serena. Time can be your ally... or your enemy."

Serena glanced at the Carcass again, whose vacant eyes still burned with that eerie affection for RJ. Then she looked back to the Clock, exhaustion and disbelief weighing on her.

"Fine. If you want to help, do it. Just get me out of here."

The Clock's grin stretched impossibly wider. With a grand bow, he declared, "Oh, you don't have to tell me twice. Time to make this little dinner party a bit more interesting!"

A snap of his fingers, and the air shimmered. The ticking sped up, warping the graveyard around them. The zombies froze mid-motion, their movements slowed to a crawl. The Carcass's gaze blurred, RJ's motions sluggish and distorted.

The Clock watched, pleased, as the world bent to his will.

"Now, let's see how much fun we can have with this little time loop, shall we?"

Serena's heart raced as time stretched and folded around her. The graveyard's eerie energy thickened like molasses. The undead froze in place, eyes wide and unblinking, forever caught in their ghastly feast.

She looked down at her own hands—moving slow, like trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake from. Panic rose, but then, sharp clarity pierced through it. If time was the enemy, maybe it could be a weapon.

A sly grin tugged at her lips.

"So, if I'm the one moving faster, does that mean I can... mess with all of you?"

With a laugh, she stepped forward, savoring the surreal sensation of bending time. The ground felt sticky beneath her feet, holding her back just enough to heighten the thrill of moving freely while everything else remained frozen.

She darted toward the Carcass, a blur in the slowed world, grabbing the zombie's head and shaking it in front of her.

"Hey there, sweetheart. How do you like this time?"

The Carcass's expression stayed locked in eerie stillness, but Serena laughed at the absurdity. She tapped the zombie's face lightly, then spun around and rushed to RJ's side.

He was barely moving, his body caught in the slow-motion freeze. Serena leaned in close, whispering teasingly, "Guess we've got all the time in the world now, huh?"

RJ's sluggish attempts to speak sounded muffled, like underwater bubbles. Serena laughed again, delighting in the power her quickness gave her.

She moved among the zombies like a predator in a cage, toying with their frozen forms, reveling in the chaos she controlled.

Yet a nagging unease crept in. The Clock's ticking grew louder, more insistent. He watched her with that wide grin—pleased but something darker lurking behind his eyes.

"Well, well. Look at you, Serena. Playing with time like a toy... How far are you willing to go?" he asked, amusement dripping from his voice.

Serena's grin faltered. His words struck deeper than she expected—a chilling reminder that nothing was truly under her control. Not even time itself.

But she shook off the doubt, steeling herself with the strength she'd honed through every nightmare.

With fierce resolve and a spark in her eyes, she faced the warped world again.

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

And with that, she plunged back into her twisted game, the Clock's ticking swelling louder as the deadly dance with time spiraled to new heights.

Time snapped forward with a sudden rush, the frozen world around Serena and the gang snapping back into motion. The eerie stillness lifted like a curtain rising on a stage, the graveyard breathing again with its unnatural rhythm. The zombie dinner party resumed—plates clinking, slow, unsettling munching—but Serena's eyes caught something odd.

The Carcass was gone.

Heart pounding, Serena scanned the foggy shadows, confusion twisting inside her. The other zombies continued their feast, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened, but the Carcass had vanished without a trace. Was it a trick of the warped time? Or had she really disrupted something deeper in the twisted banquet?

"Where the hell did she go?" Serena muttered under her breath.

A cold shiver ran down her spine as unease crept into the night air. The graveyard felt heavier, darker, as if the absence was a warning. Behind her, the steady ticking returned, louder and more insistent.

The Clock stepped closer, his glowing clock-head faintly illuminating the moonlit graveyard. His expression unreadable, he offered a teasing smile.

"Not bad, Serena," he said smoothly. "You might have bent time, but it never really stops moving. And neither does she."

Before Serena could respond, a faint shuffle came from the shadows behind her—soft but deliberate footsteps dragging along the earth. The ground trembled with a low rumble, vibrating through the air.

From the darkness, the Carcass reappeared, moving unnaturally fast. Her limbs and head seemed to detach slightly with every step, but her hollow eyes burned with unholy hunger, locked viciously onto Serena.

"You shouldn't have done that, darling," she growled. "I'm not done with you yet."

The tension exploded as the Carcass lunged forward—proof that no matter how time twisted, the deadly game was far from over. The clock was ticking, and the price was about to come due.

—

Back at the dinner table, the rest of the gang tried to keep up appearances. The zombies continued their mindless chewing, seemingly unaware of the strange events unfolding beyond their feast. Callie and Ollie exchanged uneasy glances.

Callie whispered, voice tight, "I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending this is food. It's... so wrong. Like they're not even real meals."

Ollie mimicked chewing with exaggerated motions. "Just don't make eye contact. Keep chewing and you'll be fine. Just... don't talk about it."

RJ and Molly sat across from each other, trying to hold their nerves. The creeping dread of the zombie dinner party pressed in with every passing second.

RJ murmured to Molly, "Maybe we should've stayed in the labyrinth. At least it wasn't this creepy."

Molly glanced around nervously, "I've had enough of creepy. This place... it feels like the air's too thick to breathe. Like we're walking into a trap. A gross, zombie-filled trap."

At the head of the table, a patchwork zombie with a sinister grin fixed RJ with a cold stare. Its voice rasped low and dry.

"You seem... out of place."

—

Serena, still flushed with fury and fear, prepared to erupt—but the Carcass, looming close to RJ, suddenly paused. Tilting her decayed head, the exposed jaw creaked as she let out a thoughtful hum. Everyone held their breath.

Then, with a casual wave of her detached hand, she stepped back and sighed.

"Oh, honey, don't flatter yourself," she said smoothly. "I don't want your man. I just want to give him a makeover."

The table fell silent. Serena blinked, confusion and disbelief mixing in her gaze. RJ looked caught between relief and bewilderment.

"Wait... what?" RJ said hesitantly.

The Carcass grinned. "Oh, sweetie, I may be a walking corpse, but I have standards. No offense, you're cute, but men? Ew. No, no, no. I'm all about the ladies."

She fluttered the remnants of her eyelashes with a dramatic flair, as if that made everything obvious.

"Now, what I want is to get my hands on your face. A little contouring, a little highlight—trust me, you'd look drop-dead gorgeous. Pun intended."

Molly snorted loudly, stifling laughter, while Ollie burst out wheezing next to Callie.

"Serena was this close to murder and for what?!" Ollie gasped between laughs.

Serena, still tense but embarrassed, stammered, "I—I didn't know—"

The Carcass mock-gasped, "Oh, honey, you really thought I wanted your man? Please. I'd rather die—oh wait, I already did that."

Even RJ chuckled nervously, shaking his head.

"Well... I guess I should say thank you? I think?"

The Carcass grinned wider. "Of course, sugar. Now, how do you feel about a bold lip color?"

Serena groaned, burying her face in her hands as the gang's laughter echoed through the graveyard. The tension melted into absurdity—for a moment.

—

Suddenly, a low, collective growl filled the air. The gang's heads snapped up, eyes widening. The other zombies at the table stared at them with hollow eyes and open mouths, drool—or something like it—dripping onto their plates.

A heavy silence followed.

"Sooo... you're not on the menu?" rasped one zombie.

"That's a shame... I'm starving," another muttered.

The sickening chorus of growling stomachs echoed, fingers tapping impatiently on worn plates.

The Carcass, casually holding one of her own arms like a prop, chuckled awkwardly and stepped back.

"Uh, yeah, so... they do need to eat."

Serena deadpanned, "Oh, now you mention that?"

"Nothing personal, dearies! Just a little nibble, maybe an arm—"

"Or a leg!"

"Or the whole thing, I'm not picky."

Molly's eye twitched. Without hesitation, she grabbed the nearest chair and hurled it at the advancing zombies.

"WE'RE LEAVING."

RJ didn't hesitate. "YES MA'AM."

The gang bolted, flipping the dinner table over as they fled. The zombies screeched in hunger, lunging after them with bony hands and gnashing teeth. Chairs and plates clattered to the ground in their wake.

Ollie laughed and screamed, "THEY'RE REALLY GONNA EAT US, HUH?!"

Callie shouted, "WHAT GAVE IT AWAY?!"

Serena panted, "I SWEAR, I'M BURNING THIS WHOLE GRAVEYARD DOWN WHEN WE GET OUT—"

They sprinted through the crumbling graveyard, chased by the ravenous undead. Somewhere behind them, the Clock's steady ticking mixed with his faint chuckles, a cruel reminder that the deadly game was far from over.

Serena, RJ, and the Carcass barreled through the graveyard, dodging grasping zombie hands and leaping over shattered tombstones. Their frantic sprint came to a screeching halt as ghostly lanterns flickered, revealing a figure floating lazily before them — The Ghost.

"Well, well, well... look who's literally running for their lives. Enjoying the dinner party?" The Ghost's voice dripped with amused laziness.

Serena, panting and hands on her knees, shot back, "GHOST — NOT. THE. TIME!"

But Carcass wasn't listening. Her hollow eyes locked onto The Ghost, and suddenly the chaos—the growling zombies, Serena's curses—faded away until only the two of them remained in focus.

"You... you're here. You're really here," Carcass breathed shakily, voice trembling with a strange mix of awe and vulnerability.

The Ghost tilted her head, intrigued. "Yeah? I tend to be. You okay, Carcass? You look like you've seen a—oh, wait, never mind."

RJ glanced between them, unsure whether to worry more about the zombies still chasing or the way Carcass was staring at The Ghost like she was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Before he could speak, Carcass took a hesitant step forward, her hands pressed to her chest as if trying to steady a heart long gone cold.

"I... I can't keep this in anymore," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Ghost, I—I love you."

The words hung heavy in the air. Even the zombies faltered, their groans briefly stilled by the weight of the confession. Serena blinked, caught between disbelief and exasperation. RJ looked equally dumbfounded.

"Oh, for the love of—" Serena muttered under her breath.

The Ghost stared at Carcass, her form flickering like a glitching image. Then, slowly, a sly smile crept across her face.

"Well, well, well... this is a surprise. And here I thought you only loved your little makeup tutorials," she teased.

Carcass's voice trembled but held earnestness. "I do love my work, but... you're different. You're the most beautiful thing in my afterlife. You make me feel alive even when I know I'm not. I—I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I was scared. Now... if this is the last time I ever say it, I want you to know."

The Ghost's teasing softened, replaced by something unreadable. She hovered closer, eyes glowing softly in the dark.

"You know, Carcass... you really are something else."

Without a word, The Ghost reached out, her translucent fingers brushing Carcass's cheek—the closest to a real touch she could manage. Carcass trembled, her stitched body barely holding together as emotions overwhelmed her.

Behind them, Serena and RJ exchanged a glance.

RJ whispered, "Uh... so... are we still running, or...?"

Serena rubbed her temples, exasperated. "Give them a second. But if a zombie even looks at me funny, I'm setting this whole place on fire."

For a brief, eerie moment, the graveyard paused. The moaning zombies, the flickering lanterns, even Serena's tapping foot all vanished as The Ghost and Carcass locked eyes. Despite her decay, Carcass looked more alive than ever; The Ghost, for once, wasn't smirking or teasing—just watching, waiting.

Drawn by an unseen force, Carcass closed the distance, her cold, stitched lips meeting The Ghost's translucent ones. Life and death seemed to merge as the world around them faded.

A low hum rose, the earth trembling beneath them. The very fabric of Arcana stirred at the touch of something genuine.

Then—

A flash of eerie blue light erupted from the graveyard soil. A swirling portal of spectral energy tore open beside them, its glow casting long shadows across the tombstones. The undead guests at the dinner party froze, staring at the portal as if summoned.

Serena shielded her eyes from the bright glow. "Finally! Took long enough!"

RJ blinked, stunned. "Wait... was the portal tied to true love?!"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Arcana and its weird romance-based magic."

Ghost and Carcass slowly parted, their gazes lingering. The Ghost grinned playfully.

"Huh. Guess that kiss was worth something after all."

Carcass smiled shyly. "It was everything."

Serena grabbed RJ's arm, tugging him toward the portal.

"Okay, lovebirds, move it! Before the zombies get over their little romantic distraction!"

The gang rushed forward, stepping into the swirling energy. The Ghost and Carcass exchanged one last knowing glance, then vanished in a flicker of ethereal light—leaving the graveyard and its undead dinner party behind.

—

They landed hard back in the labyrinth, the portal's eerie glow fading behind them. Exhaustion hit like a wave, each of them taking a breath to steady their nerves.

Serena groaned. "I swear, if we get thrown into one more cursed scenario, I'm going to lose my mind."

RJ shook his head, dazed. "You already lost it back there when you snapped on Equine."

"Shut up, petname," Serena shot back, rubbing her temples.

Molly stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Well, at least we're back here. No more zombies trying to eat us."

Ollie flopped dramatically onto the stone floor, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

"Yeah, yeah, we're alive, blah blah," she muttered, "but you know what would really make me happy?"

Callie, arms crossed, already looked exhausted.

"Seeing Dad again! I miss Dad! What if he's worried? What if he thinks we got eaten by a taxidermy-loving centaur? What if—"

Callie groaned, cutting her off. "Oh my god, Ollie, for the last time, Dad is fine."

"But he could be—"

"No. Nope. We are not doing this again," Callie snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Molly raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Serena. "Does this happen often?"

Serena gave a flat sigh. "Every time we're stuck anywhere for more than five minutes."

RJ nodded. "One time, she started crying about missing her dad in the middle of a boss fight."

Ollie wagged a finger. "You don't understand! Father's presence is a blessing! A warm embrace of safety and love! Callie, back me up!"

Callie deadpanned, "We literally saw him two days ago."

Ollie pouted harder. "Two days too long!"

Molly stifled a laugh as Callie rubbed her face in frustration. Serena nudged RJ.

"Ten bucks says she keeps this up until the next portal."

RJ smirked. "Oh, absolutely."

—

The gang pressed onward, trudging through the labyrinth as the eerie glow of shifting walls cast strange shadows. Rounding a corner, they came face to face with the next painting.

A massive spider web stretched across a dark forest, glistening as if freshly spun. In the center, a pair of glowing eyes watched from the shadows.

Callie immediately stepped back, voice trembling. "Nope. Nope nope nope. Absolutely not."

Ollie grinned, eager. "Ooh, this is gonna be good."

Serena stepped closer, smirking. "Actually, I think this looks awesome."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "You into spiders or something?"

Serena crossed her arms, smirking wider. "Let's just say my ex was terrified of them, so now I love them out of pure spite."

RJ side-eyed her. "That is not a healthy reason to like something."

Serena shrugged. "And yet, here we are."

Callie remained frozen in place, horror plain on her face.

"Guys, I am seriously not okay with this. Can we just—"

Before she could finish, the spider web twitched.

Suddenly, silky white threads shot out from the painting's frame, wrapping around the gang and yanking them forward. Callie barely managed a strangled scream before darkness swallowed them whole.

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