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𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍

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As Sunshine put the finishing touches on her Halloween look, she took a deep breath, her nerves buzzing with anticipation. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to calm herself. Tonight was her date, and the excitement was colliding with anxiety, sending her spiraling. 

The sudden sound of a Halloween decoration going off downstairs startled her, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a casual hop, she made her way down the stairs, the faint rustling of her outfit accompanying her movements.

Coming up behind her parents, she immediately noticed one of the fluffers, Chad, eyeing her outfit with undisguised disdain, his gaze crawling up and down her figure with judgment.

"What?" Sunshine asked, raising an eyebrow, glancing between her parents, who both looked like they had just been criticized for a crime.

"He doesn't like our costumes," Vivien explained her voice tinged with frustration as she turned and headed toward the kitchen.

Sunshine exchanged a knowing look with her father,  both of them stifling their amusement as Chad dramatically followed Vivien.

"Well, there's nothing to be done about it now." Chad continued, his voice rising in exasperation. "The doorbell's going to start ringing soon, and we still haven't finished setting up the bobbing station." He gestured dramatically toward the spread of a half-decorated Halloween game, clearly unimpressed. His eyes landed on the apples, and his face twisted in disgust. "What the hell is this?"

"What?" Vivien asked, her tone weary, as if she were already exhausted by the conversation.

Sunshine shook her head, deciding she didn't want to be caught up in whatever drama was brewing. She nonchalantly grabbed a lollipop from the candy bowl, unwrapping it before popping it into her mouth.

Patrick, Chad's husband, cautiously entered the kitchen, his voice soft but apprehensive. "Chad?"

"Gala apples," Chad finally spat out, looking at the fruit like it personally offended him. "We specifically talked about Granny Smiths."

"They didn't have any at Gelson's," Ben replied with a shrug, pulling one of the offending apples from the bobbing bucket.

Chad's eyes widened in outrage, his temper flaring. "Then you go to the farmer's market or drive out to an off-ramp in Valencia and buy a bag from Pedro! Where's the effort?" His voice grew more agitated, his arms flailing as he stared down both Ben and Vivien as if they had ruined Halloween itself.

"I think you're overreacting," Vivien sighed, stepping up next to Ben, her patience clearly fraying.

"I second that," Sunshine chimed in, pointing her lollipop lazily in Chad's direction before tucking it back between her lips.

Chad's face twisted in fury as he stepped closer to Vivien. "Because I'm the only one who actually gives a shit?" He spat, the space between them shrinking. "I think you should just leave."

Vivien blinked, genuinely taken aback. "You think we should just leave our house?" she asked, her voice shaky but firm.

"It's not your house," Chad snapped back, his eyes flashing with a manic certainty. "We know it, you know it, and the house knows it. Frankly, you don't deserve it."

Sunshine stood frozen for a moment, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Wow," she finally muttered, gaping at the escalating tension. "You guys are fucking nuts."

Vivien's emotions, once restrained, started to boil over. "Get out!" she shouted.

"Yeah, leave," Ben added, his tone low but insistent, stepping closer to his wife.

"We are not leaving this house." His words were almost a growl, his stance rigid, his refusal absolute.

Vivien, now beyond reason, began to pull things off the shelves in the kitchen, her frustration manifesting in a wild flurry of motion. Plates and decorations crashed to the floor, shattering into jagged pieces. "Get out! Get out! Get out! I don't care about any of this. Just go!" Her voice cracked as she screamed, and tears started to well up in her eyes.

Patrick, standing by the doorway, glanced nervously between his husband and Vivien. He stepped forward, gently placing a hand on Chad's arm. "You shouldn't have to watch this," he whispered to Chad, urging him to leave before things got worse.

"Get out of here!"

Patrick tugged on Chad's arm, finally pulling him toward the door. After a moment of resistance, Chad allowed himself to be led out, his furious mutterings trailing behind him as they left the house.

As the door slammed shut, the silence that followed was almost unbearable. Sunshine stood there, her heart racing, wide-eyed and stunned by what had just unfolded.

"Are you okay?" Ben's voice was quiet, tentative, as he approached Vivien, concern lining his features.

Vivien turned, her face flushed, her breath heavy. Her eyes locked on Ben's. "I don't believe you, Ben," she said, her voice quivering with restrained emotion.

Ben glanced at Sunshine, a silent plea in his eyes. "Honey," he said gently, "you should go upstairs."

"No," Vivien shook her head, her words cutting through the tension. "She can stay."

Sunshine shifted uncomfortably, glancing between her parents. Her mom's word was final, and despite the awkwardness, she stayed rooted in place, watching them both cautiously.

Vivien's face contorted with sorrow, her voice softening, but still edged with bitterness. "You tell me your story, but there's a little glimmer in your eye, a little... lie, a little darkness." Tears welled up in her eyes, and she fought to keep her composure. "I don't want to live with suspicion anymore, so I want you to go. I want you to go." Her voice broke, and the fight in her seemed to collapse into raw grief.

Suddenly, Vivien's expression changed. Her face twisted in pain as she clutched her stomach, her breaths coming in short gasps. "Oh, God. Aah!" Her knees buckled slightly, and Sunshine rushed forward, panic flashing in her eyes.

"Mom!" Sunshine's voice trembled as she reached out, supporting her mother as best she could.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked, his worry mounting as he stepped closer.

Vivien grabbed onto Sunshine's arm, her grip tight and desperate. "Something's not right," she gasped, shaking her head. "Okay, I need to go to the hospital."

Without hesitation, Ben took hold of Vivien. He glanced at Sunshine, his tone commanding. "Stay here," he instructed, his eyes serious. "And don't answer the door."

"O-okay," Sunshine nodded as she watched her father help Vivien out the door.

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Sunshine stood in her room, her fingers trembling slightly as she fumbled through her school bag, searching for the small pill bottle. The moment she found it, her heart slowed just a fraction. She popped one pill into her mouth, swallowing dry. Closing her eyes, she let out a shaky breath, yearning for something to dull the sharpness of reality. Just a little relief. Just for a moment.

The doorbells sharp chime pierced the quiet, jolting her out of her thoughts. Sunshine jumped as if she'd just been caught doing something forbidden. She grumbled, deciding to ignore it at first, hoping whoever it was would just go away.

But then it rang again. And again.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, tossing her bag onto the bed with an irritated flick of her wrist. Reluctantly, she made her way down the stairs.

As she neared the door, a man's voice cut through the stillness, loud and demanding. "Goddamn it, Ben, I want my money! I'm not leaving here till I have my thousand dollars! Hello! Ben Harmon!"

The voice was followed by a sharp pounding on the door that made Sunshine freeze in place. She hesitated, then moved closer to peer through the peephole. There was a man wearing a fedora, his face twisted and half-burnt. At first, she thought it was some Halloween prank, but something about the way it looked—too real—made her skin crawl.

"Ben Harmon! I am not leaving here till I have my thousand dollars!" the man continued, voice growing more impatient by the second. "Screw you! You owe me! Oh, here, take one and go! Come on, come on!" 

His fist pounded against the door, and the doorbell rang again and again, filling the house with its shrill, maddening sound.

Her hands shaking, Sunshine fumbled for her phone, yanking it out of her leather jacket. Her fingers slid over the buttons as she quickly dialed her dad's number, her heart hammering in her chest. She pressed the phone to her ear, each ring feeling like an eternity.

"Hey, honey," her father's voice finally came through, calm but laced with concern.

"Dad," Sunshine's voice was barely above a whisper, her gaze darting toward the door where the pounding continued. "There's a man at the door... he says you owe him money. Should I call the cops?"

There was a pause on the other end, long enough for her to feel a rising sense of dread. "No!" Ben's voice was suddenly sharp, urgent. "No. Just... just keep the door closed. Is it locked?"

Sunshine glanced toward the lock, quickly checking. "Yeah, it's locked."

"We're on our way home right now," Ben reassured her, his tone still tense. "Just... keep the door locked. Sunshine, do not open that door."

"Okay, Dad." She swallowed hard, ending the call with a shaky thumb. Her hand clenched around the phone, her eyes never leaving the door. The pounding had stopped, but the man's voice didn't.

"I know you're in there," he called out, his voice almost sing-song, sending a chill crawling up her spine. "Is that your daughter? Hmm?"

Her eyes scanned the room, her mind racing, and that's when she saw it. Something in her peripheral vision—black, slick, a nightmare come to life.

The Rubber Man.

Her breath caught, her body frozen with fear. She turned her head sharply to look, but the space where he'd stood was now empty, as if he'd never been there at all. Her mind reeled. Was she losing it?

The pounding resumed with a sudden violence, the doorbell ringing incessantly now, and Sunshine felt like the walls were closing in. 

Fear began to seep into her every muscle, her legs feeling weak as she backed away from the door. 

Deciding it was safer upstairs, Sunshine made her way back to her room, her steps quick and quiet. Once inside, she shut the door with a soft click and turned the lock, sealing herself in. Leaning her back against the door, she exhaled shakily, eyes closed as if that might somehow block out the chaos of the world outside. 

Her palms rubbed over her face, the coolness of her fingers grounding her just slightly. It felt like she was losing it—like she was on the verge of unraveling. Her mind played tricks on her, convincing her that the Rubber Man was real, lurking somewhere in the shadows of the house.

But he couldn't be real. He wasn't real.

She tried to reason with herself, clinging to logic even as her pulse raced and her body betrayed her with trembling hands. Maybe it was just a side effect of sleep paralysis, a hallucination bleeding into her waking hours. She'd heard of that happening before—her mind struggling to separate dreams from reality. But even that thought didn't offer much comfort. She felt the burn of tears pricking her eyes and let out a defeated sigh, her body slumping slightly against the door.

Just as she was sinking deeper into her thoughts, a soft sound broke through—the faint tap of something hitting her window. She tensed.

Slowly, cautiously, she moved toward the window and peered out.

There, standing in her backyard, was Tate. He was tossing pebbles up at her window, his expression as calm as ever. When he caught sight of her, a crooked smile spread across his face, and he motioned downward.

"Basement," he mouthed, his voice quiet but carrying enough for her to hear.

A small smile tugged at her lips despite everything. She gave him a quick nod before closing the window again.

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