Chad shifted his truck into a low gear and stepped on the gas. Damn, this road was steep, he thought. Winding, too. And getting dark now. Where the hell was this place? he wondered. He’d been driving for three-quarters of an hour now and still hadn’t found the place yet. He knew he wasn’t lost; he had followed to the letter the directions on the little map he’d been given. He shook his head in exasperation. Boy, when they said this place was "out-of-the-way," they weren’t kidding. He sure hoped he’d be able to find his way home again later on…

Chad was on his way to a special Halloween party given by some friends of his. Dan, the primary organizer of the event, was the one who came up with the idea of trying something "different," as he put it.

"And I have just the thing in mind!" he said. "Let’s have a good, old-fashioned masquerade! You know, everybody not only comes in costume, but masked as well!"

Chad simply shrugged when the suggestion was made. "What’s the point?" he asked.

"Don’t you get it? If we’re all masked, then no one will know who anyone else is! You can raise hell and nobody will know it’s you! You won’t be you, per se, you’ll be someone else! Get it?"

Chad stared blankly at him. Dan tried again.

"We’ll all be anonymous! Nobody will know who they’re dancing with! C’mon, it’ll be fun!"

Amidst the chorus of "Oh, yeah!" and "I get it!" and "Cool!", Chad merely shook his head. He didn’t see the point, but didn’t want to argue about it.

"And I’ve got the perfect place for it, too! An old, out-of-the way place, way the hell up in the mountains. I think it used to be a resort hotel , then it was a health spa or something, then it was a bed-and-breakfast for a while. Now I think it’s pretty much vacant. But I drove past it last month and we can rent it for one night for practically nothing! It’s got a HUGE ballroom with a good sound system and a big reception area, too. And it’s in a great location! At night it’ll be all dark & creepy, perfect for Halloween! And with all those rooms, people can spend the night if they need to, y’know, if they drink too much or…something. And—OH! I almost forgot the best part…" He paused, holding his small audience in suspense. "It’s supposed to be haunted!"

A few titters sounded among the small gathering, and Dan quickly spoke up again.

"No, really! I’m serious! The place is supposed to be haunted! Even though it’s been vacant & empty for years, passersby have occasionally seen and heard some very strange, mysterious things going on inside the place and on the surrounding grounds. Things that absolutely cannot be explained!" he said dramatically. "The place is said to have a very mysterious, somewhat unsavory history, too…" he paused to great effect. "So could it be ghosts…? Or…?"

It was obvious from the reactions of the small group that they didn’t believe a word of it. Nevertheless, Dan, still caught up in the enthusiasm of his idea, forged ahead:

"C’mon gang, it’ll be great! Whaddaya say?"

Everyone except Chad seemed to think it was a great idea. Chad, on the other hand, was in favor of holding the party at one of the local nightclubs, but when the matter was finally put to a vote, Dan’s plan won out. Chad agreed to go along with it, although he really didn’t relish the idea of dragging his butt way the hell out to some creepy old dump out in the boondocks someplace. But Dan assured him it would be great (Dan, the perfect pitchman, could talk anyone into doing anything, it seemed.)

And so now here Chad was, driving up the steep, winding, and now darkening road, up to what he hoped was the location of the party. Although he didn’t have much time or inclination to view the scenery (merely staying on the mountain road was more than enough to hold his attention), he did have to admit that it was a perfect night and a perfect location for a Halloween party. It was a windy night, with a full moon partially obscured by thin wispy clouds. And driving through the dense mountain woods, with the autumn leaves falling and swirling about in the wind to complete the picture, Chad had the uncanny feeling that he’d somehow seen this movie before, and that Bela Lugosi would be waiting for him at the castle when he arrived..

Chad drove on for a couple of more miles. I’ve gotta be close to it by now, he thought. Ulp—wait a minute, what was that? He thought he glimpsed a light. Is this? Yeah…yeah, this is it. As he approached, Chad could see a large, old building, with bright light streaming from its windows. He slowed down and turned his truck into a gravel parking lot. Coming closer, he heard music booming out from the old building as well. He pulled the truck into a parking space, shut the engine and got out.

He looked up at the old building. Good god, he thought, smiling in spite of himself. Although he hated to admit it, maybe Dan had something after all. Even in the dim moonlight, Chad could tell that the building was hideous, an architectural nightmare that seemed to be a patched-together mish-mash of the worst of Victorian, Queen Anne and Gothic, all chopped up, ground down, thrown into a blender, tossed up and pasted together into a sick travesty of what was alleged to be a resort hotel. Chad was glad it was nighttime; he’d have hated to see what the place looked like during the daytime.

He was about to start walking toward the building, when he suddenly stopped short, going through his pockets, looking for his mask. Where the hell…? There it is, he thought, reaching onto the truck seat where he’d left it beside his cowboy hat. He closed and locked the truck door, then put the mask and hat on, checking his reflection briefly in the side mirror of the truck. He sighed in disappointment. He looked ridiculous and felt like a fool.

He’d originally wanted to go as "The Lone Ranger," but because he’d (as usual) waited until the last minute to rent a costume, that one had been taken. The only one left in his size was "Sheriff Woody." Although he wasn’t too thrilled about going as that character, he was willing to settle for it until he was reminded by Dan that he’d still have to wear a mask to attend the party. Chad objected, pointing out the incongruity of a mask on the "Sheriff Woody" character, but Dan was adamant. Chad sighed, went out and bought a cheap black mask for $2.00.

Chad walked through the front door of the hotel, and an immense wave of light, music and mixed, laughing voices washed over him. He was greeted immediately by Dan, now dressed in a pink satin French maid’s outfit.

"Hey everybody! Look! It’s Sheriff Woody! Glad you could make it!" said Dan, walking up to him.

"Oh, hi Dan," said Chad, looking up at his friend who, wearing 3" pumps, now towered over him by a good seven or eight inches. "Uh—Uh, nice outfit," he said, weakly.

"Like it?" said Dan laughing heartily. "It’s ‘maid to order!’ Get it? ‘Maid to order?’"

"I got it, I got it…" Chad replied patiently. "Say listen, not to criticize, but…" he dropped his voice low. "Don’t you think you should have lost the beard? I mean, with the blonde wig and the pink satin and all, don’t you think it’s a bit…" he trailed off.

"Nahhh, what the hell… It’s Halloween, right? Point is to have fun, have a good time, right?" he patted his friend soundly on the back. He looked over Chad’s shoulder behind him. "Say, where’s Lori? Isn’t she coming?" he asked.

Chad hesitated. "Uh, no…" he said. "We…we had a fight. We broke up."

"You broke up?" said Dan. "But I thought you two were so close. I thought you were going to…"

"Yeah, well, she… I just decided she just wasn’t my type, that’s all."

"What’d you fight over?" Dan quickly caught himself. "I’m sorry, it’s none of my—"

"No, it’s all right." He paused a moment before answering. "She--she said I was shallow, that’s all; that all I cared about was appearances. She thought I didn’t really care about her or love her. Just because I told her I thought she should go on a diet."

"You told Lori she should go on a diet?" Dan laughed, as though his friend were making a very bad joke. "You gotta be kidding me, right?"

"No, I’m serious… I mean…well you know, she’s okay-looking, but there’s always room for improvement, right? Right?"

Dan’s laughter quickly subsided. He shook his head sadly at his friend. He didn’t want to say anything, but maybe Lori had a point: Chad was awfully shallow. Dan quickly changed the subject.

"Well, it doesn’t matter." he said, jovially. "Point is you’re here, right? You’ll have a good time anyway." Another scapula-shattering pat on the back. "G’wan, have a ball!" he said.

"Thanks," Chad said, trying to reach around to rub his back.

Chad strolled around the large reception area, amidst the milling crowd, dressed in all their various costumes. He smiled as he took in the bizarre collection surrounding him: properly-dressed Elizabethan-era ladies laughing and joking around with Klingons, Renaissance-era gentlemen casually chatting away with giant green insects speaking in high-pitched, feminine voices, knights in shining armor sharing drinks with oversized teletubbies. And the entire motley collection all milling around in this architectural nightmare in the middle of nowhere while oldies-but-goodies drifted in from the dance floor nearby. It was truly a bizarre, surreal sight, one that even Salvador Dali probably couldn’t have dreamed up.

He moved into the dance floor, which, unlike the well-lit reception area, was kept dark, with low, moody lighting and plenty of fog-machine, laser effects and black-lighting to add to the overall mood of the occasion. The sound system was a good one, the music loud enough to enjoy, but not up to Concorde-taking-off level.

Chad spied a few attractive young women who seemed to be unattached and invited them to dance. A few accepted, though most declined, offering one excuse or another. Of the few who accepted, Chad soon lost interest in them once they returned to the well-lit reception area. Even though they wore masks, Chad could tell there was nothing special there to spark his interest.

Damn, Chad thought, isn’t there one decent-looking free chick in this entire place?

After a few more such disappointments, Chad ended up sulking in a corner of the reception area, nursing a not-quite-hard/not-quite-soft drink. He was bored. Discouraged. Depressed. Boy, this night really is a bust, he thought. He wanted to go home.

As though sensing his state of mind, Dan approached him.

"Something wrong?" Dan asked.

"I’m bored," Chad replied. "I want to go home. This sucks. There isn’t one good-looking chick in this whole place. I mean, I came all the way out to this place, right? So it oughta be worth my while, you know what I mean?"

Dan sighed. "Look," he said, patiently. "You’re going at this with the wrong attitude. The point is to have fun, to have a good time. If you’re going to go around like this is just another meat-market, you might as well go home right now, because you’re just going to be disappointed."

The two old friends silently regarded one another. "Come on, lighten up!" Dan said finally, putting a massive, polished-fingernailed hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Get into the mood, willya! Have some fun!"

Chad looked up at his friend. The bizarre sight that met his eyes made him laugh anew. Maybe Dan was right. As absurd as Dan looked, it didn’t stop him from enjoying himself; in fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

"Just loosen up," Dan said. "Don’t be so tensed-up, like you’re out looking for something specific. Just relax and let things happen. After all, it’s Halloween. All sorts of magical, mysterious things can happen if you just let them. Try to get into the ‘spirit’ of the thing."

Chad smiled and silently groaned at his friend’s pun. "Okay," he said. "I’ll give it another try."

"Good, good, that’s the ‘spirit!’" Another rib-rattling pat on the back.

Chad closed his eyes, with a pained expression on his face, caused not entirely by the repeated bad pun.

Chad again made the rounds among the milling throng of the reception area, occasionally talking and joking with people here and there, commenting & joking about his own and other costumes, gradually working his way towards the punch bowl. Chad approached the cut-crystal bowl, filled with a bubbling, foggy purple liquid, and filled himself another cupful of the punch. He didn’t know what was in the stuff (he assumed the bubbling & fog which emanated from it was done with dry ice—a nice effect, he thought), but it was pretty tasty. By now it was almost 10:30 and he’d had several cups of the stuff. He didn’t feel intoxicated exactly, so he doubted there was any alcohol or any controlled substances in it, but still he felt…different, somehow. In spite of himself, he began to feel in a much better mood than he’d been in earlier. He smiled. Maybe it wasn’t the punch; maybe it was just Halloween itself after all.

Just then, he heard a soft voice speak from behind his shoulder. "Pardon me, kind sir, may I have a drink?" it said.

Chad turned to look and saw a vision: a tall, nicely-built (very nicely! as Chad was quick to notice) woman dressed in a long, shiny black dress that appeared to be either silk or satin. The dress seemed to be of an semi-old-fashioned design, with a tightly-corseted waist above a full, flowing skirt that reached almost to the floor. Long black gloves covered the woman’s hands and the lower sleeves of her dress, the high collar of which reached up to her jawline. Her entire body below the neck was thus completely covered, yet this did not detract from the stunning shape underneath.

She had long, straight raven-colored hair (a wig, no doubt, Chad thought) that reached down to the middle of her back. Contrasting sharply with this was her face, or rather what little Chad could see of it. The top half of her face was covered by a stark white mask, which extended from her hairline, to the perimeters of her face, stopping at her ears, and down past her cheeks, leaving only her mouth, chin and part of her cheeks exposed, the only area of her skin that was not covered by costume. Her skin had a strangely pale, almost luminescent quality to it, almost as white as the mask she wore. Offsetting her pale skin were her lips, which were blood-red in color.

Most striking of all, however, were her eyes. Or rather, the lack thereof. Normally, when Chad looked closely, he could see the person’s eyes through the eye-holes of a mask, but in the case of this strange woman, he couldn’t see the tiniest trace of her eyes at all. There seemed to be nothing behind those eye-holes, nothing but a pitch-black void.

Chad was momentarily stunned by the arresting sight of this woman and found himself quite unable to respond to her at first. With effort however, he forced himself to answer, smiling embarrassed, while he poured the woman a drink from the punch bowl. His hand trembled slightly as he handed her the drink. She reached out a slender, black-gloved hand as she took the cup from him.

Chad looked her all up and down again. He couldn’t quite make out what she was supposed to be, if anything. He couldn’t tell if she was supposed to be a character from a TV show or a movie or a literary character or what. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him, and he finally just asked, point-blank:

"Um—what are you supposed to be?"

The woman smiled. "Whatever I want to be." she said.

"No, no, I mean…what are you supposed to be? Tonight?"

"I’m the ‘Phantom Femme.’"

"Oh. Right." Chad said, nodding. He assumed she was referring in some oblique way to The Phantom of the Opera (which he’d never seen, but which he’d seen pictures of.) "What’s your name? I mean your real name." he said.

The woman continued to smile, but the quality of her smile changed ever so slightly. "That would be telling." she said.

"Oh. Right." Chad said. That stupid masquerade rule about not taking your mask off and revealing your identity before midnight. Now more than ever, that rule seemed particularly stupid to Chad.

The two regarded each other in silence for several seconds more before the Phantom Femme spoke again.

"Are you alone or with a girl?" she asked him.

"Oh, I’m—I’m alone. I’m very alone tonight!" Chad answered. He was surprised at his own reaction…but he suddenly felt like he was back in Junior High again: bashful and nervous and self-conscious. He hadn’t felt like this in years. He felt ridiculous…yet such was the effect that this mysterious, captivating woman had on him.

"Well then," she said, again with a curious little half-smile. "Perhaps you’d care to be my escort for the evening?"

"Yes, yes of course!" Chad said, grinning. He couldn’t believe it! His luck had finally turned and he had hit the jackpot. Somehow, he just knew he was going to get lucky tonight. "You uh—You wanna dance?" he said, holding out his hand to her.

"Of course," she said, reaching out a gloved hand which Chad took.

The two went over to the dance floor, where they then danced for several songs in succession. Fast dances and slow dances, the mysterious black-clad woman seemed perfectly attuned to all of them. Chad could not believe how graceful she was; even during the fast numbers, she moved with an air of grace and poise (even in that long skirt) which Chad found uncanny. And she never even seemed to break a sweat. Chad wondered if she were a professional dancer.

Finally, Chad was winded and asked if they could sit down. The Phantom Femme smiled indulgently and agreed, even though she gave every indication that she was ready and able to dance the night away if she wished.

"Why don’t we go outside for a while, get a little fresh air?" Chad said, indicating a large glass door leading to the outside. "It’s getting a little stuffy in here. And out there is a nice little verandah, where we can get away from the crowd for a little while and talk quietly."

The black-clad woman seemed to hesitate for a moment, then followed.

The two walked out onto the verandah and sat down on a nearby garden bench, some several yards away from the door through which they had exited. It was a cool and comfortable evening, not too warm, yet not too cold; just perfect. It was dark out there on the verandah, yet there was sufficiently light by which to see, coming from the windows and doorways of the hotel, and from the full moon itself, now uncovered by the clouds. Chad positioned himself on the bench so as to be able to get a good look at the woman when the time came for her to remove her mask.

By now, Chad was thoroughly enchanted with the mysterious woman. She had a certain special…something. Chad couldn’t quite put a name to it exactly, but there seemed to be a definite connection with this one, he felt. He was determined to get to know this one better and although he was by now very tired, Chad was determined to stay until Midnight to find out who this captivating woman really was and what she looked like. It must be getting close to that time by now, he thought, so he didn’t have much longer to wait.

The costumed couple continued to talk quietly, with Chad gently but persistently trying to push the topic of conversation in the direction of the woman’s identity. Without ever revealing anything of her identity, she did inadvertently reveal that she lived in the hotel as a kind of caretaker, and that she had always lived there.

However, as Chad became more insistent in his questioning, the woman began to get at first annoyed, and then finally irritated, at his continued prying.

"I just want to know who you are, that’s all," said Chad. "I want to see what you've got underneath that mask."

The woman paused before answering. "Is that really so important to you?" she asked. "We’ve enjoyed such a wonderful, special evening together; why must we risk ruining it?"

"Who said anything about ruining the evening?" Chad asked in bewilderment.  "I just want to see what you really look like, that’s all.  Is that so terrible?" He smiled. "I’ll bet you’re really beautiful under that mask. So why don’t you show it?"

At this, the woman’s temper began to flare and Chad began to back off. He felt a chill run down his spine as the woman regarded him with the cold, empty black eyes of the white mask. "Hmph," she said. "I knew it. I had you pegged right from the start. You’re just like all the rest. You’re like all men: all you care about is a woman’s appearance. Nothing else matters to you. You’re not interested in her soul, her spirit. All that matters are the surface details."

"No, no, that’s not true," Chad said, just as the clock in the tower of the hotel began to chime twelve. "I just want to get to know you better, that’s all." he said, moving in closer to her again.

"Hmph! I’ll bet!" she said, rising from the bench. "Excuse me, I have to go."

"Oh, now wait a minute!" Chad said, rising after her. "You can’t leave now! It’s Midnight! Now you have to take your mask off and reveal your identity! Those are the rules!"

"I told you, I have to go!" she said, turning to leave.

"What, are you Cinderella or something? You have to leave right at the stroke of Midnight? Come on, be a sport. Look, I’ll take my mask off first, all right?" he said, taking off his cowboy hat and pulling the black mask away from his eyes and nose, snapping—OUCH!—the little elastic band across his ear in the process.

The Phantom Femme silently regarded Chad for a moment or two. Then without a word, she turned and began to hurry away.

"Oh, come on, be fair!" Chad said, following her. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back towards him. He reached his hand up to pull away her mask. "C’mon," he said. "Lemme see what you’ve got under there."

The woman angrily broke free from his grasp.

"All right!" she said, stepping back from him. "All right! You want to see what’s underneath all this? Then fine! I’ll show you!"

In one instant, she reached up with her left hand to pull her wig away (so it was a wig after all, Chad thought for just an instant) while with her right, she pulled away her white mask. As the white mask was pulled away, Chad heard a quick, strange ripping sound, similar to that of a Band-Aid being torn off, and he briefly glimpsed what appeared to be a piece of pink rubber or latex or something, trailing from the lower part of the mask. In the place of the wig and mask was revealed…

Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Where the woman’s head should have been was nothing but empty space. Chad’s mouth dropped open and his eyes opened wide as he beheld the headless specter in the black dress that stood before him.

"There now, do you like what you see?" the woman’s voice spoke from above the empty collar of the dress.

Chad was stunned speechless. "MY GOD!!" he gasped, taking a step backward. "MY GOD!!" His knees began to buckle, as though he were about to collapse.

"Oh, no you don’t!" the woman’s voice said, as the headless dress approached Chad. "Don’t pass out on me yet! You paid your money, you’re going to see the whole show!"

With that, one gloved hand pulled the glove off the other, revealing nothing at the end of the sleeve, then the remaining gloved hand followed. The empty sleeves of the gown raised themselves up to Chad’s face; he could see right down inside them, catching a glimmer of light shining through the seams at the back of the dress.

"There!" the voice said, waving the empty sleeves in Chad’s face. "Take a good look!"

The sleeves then reached around in back, as if to undo a zipper. Sure enough, there followed soon after the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone. Moments later, the shoulders and sleeves of the dress were peeled away from…nothing. The remainder of the dress likewise pulled itself down and away to the ground. In its place there remained a black satin corset, hung suspended in mid-air. Attached to the corset with garters were a pair of black silk stockings, which seemed to contain a pair of legs, although they were clearly empty; Chad could see right through them to the wall of the hotel behind, with light from the windows shining through them, giving them a faint, translucent glow.

At the bottoms of the stockings were a pair of tightly-laced ankle boots with spike heels. The stockings and boots took a couple steps back from the crumpled black dress on the ground, their heels clicking hollowly on the hard walkway of the verandah. One boot raised itself in the air as its laces were quickly undone, then tossed itself aside. The other boot followed soon after. The garters of the corset then began to unhook themselves from the stockings one by one, and the stockings, like the dress before them, curled down and away, pulling themselves off of unseen legs before depositing themselves onto the ground next to the dress.

The floating corset hovered in mid-air for a few seconds, then with faint popping sounds, it unhooked itself and was tossed aside, leaving absolutely nothing in its place, no visual clue whatsoever that a woman had been wearing it only moments earlier.

By now Chad was rapidly losing contact with his senses; his surroundings now seemed to spin around him as he struggled to deal with what was unfolding before him. He managed to catch a brief glimpse of a footprint appearing in the shiny silk fabric of the dress which now lay crumpled on the ground. Then another footprint appeared and then another, leading to him. It was the last thing Chad saw before passing out.

An untold period of time elapsed. When Chad finally came to, he had no idea where he was or what had happened. As he came to, he realized that he was now back inside the hotel, in the reception area, apparently lying on a small sofa or divan of some kind. Dan and a few other of his friends were gathered around him, fanning him and holding a glass of water out to him.

When he was able to speak, Chad asked the inevitable question: "Where am I?"

"You passed out," Dan told him, handing him the glass of water. "You must’ve really been wasted! How many wine-coolers did you have, anyway?"

"None," said Chad, gradually rising to a sitting up position. "I only had punch all night long." He shook his head, as though trying to clear it. "What the hell did you guys put in that stuff, anyway?"

"Easy now," Dan said, steadying him. "Nothing but punch, I assure you. Sugar, fruit juice, a little food coloring. Nothing hard, in other words."

"Whew! It must be the altitude then! My head’s still spinning!" He looked around. "Where’s—where’s the Phantom Femme?" he said. "Did you see her anywhere?"

Dan smiled. "The Phantom Femme?" he repeated. "Uh—no… No, Chad. We didn’t see her anywhere!"

Chad caught the look on his friend’s face and it irked him. "Dan, I’m serious! You didn’t see her?!? Anywhere?!? But you must have! She was there! Then she—then she—wasn’t…" his voice trailed off.

Dan’s smile faded slightly. "Are you sure you didn’t have any wine coolers tonight?"

"None, I swear." He sighed. "Man oh man… I guess it must’ve been a dream or something. But…Oh man, it felt so real! God, I’d swear it really happened!"

Chad blinked his eyes several times as though trying to clear them, and then looked all around him again. Where there had been a large crowd of people, there were now only about two dozen or so "Where—where the hell is everybody?"

"They’ve all gone home. It’s late. It’s almost three."

"THREE?!? THREE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING?!? You mean I’ve been out cold for nearly three hours? Oh, man!!"

"Easy… easy now," Dan’s soothing voice comforted his friend. The other friends waited beside him for several minutes as Chad slowly calmed down. When they were sure that he was all right, they gradually began to depart, one by one, until Dan was the only one left remaining.

"Well, we’ve gotta get out of here, it’s really late," Dan said at last, as he rose. "Oh, my feet are killing me, these damned heels!" he said, pulling off one high-heeled pump after the other, replacing them with a pair of tennis shoes. "Listen, you’re not going to drive home, are you?" he asked, stretching.

Chad shook his head. "No, I’m too ‘out of it.’"

"Can we give you a ride then?"

"No, I think—I think I’ll just crash here, see if I can get a room for the night and just drive home in the morning."

"Are you sure you’ll be all right?" Dan asked.

"Of course, I’ll be fine. I just want to curl up and go to sleep, that’s all. If I can’t get a room, I’ll sleep in the truck. I’ll be fine. Really."

"Well…all right then." Dan said. "We’ll be stopping by in the morning to clean up anyway, so we’ll check on you then."

Dan turned and headed toward the door. He stopped and turned back to his friend.
"Well, see you." he said. "Take it easy." Dan turned and left.

Chad continued to half-lay, half-sit on the divan for several more minutes, then slowly rose to a fully seated position. He yawned & stretched widely. Whew! Gotta get a room, he though, get some sleep. Get something to drink too; my mouth is dry as tinder. He got up and walked unsteadily past the few remaining stragglers over to the punch bowl, which still contained a small quantity of the refreshment, surrounded by several filled glasses which apparently hadn’t been taken.

Chad reached his hand out for one of these glasses…when it suddenly moved away from his hand! He reached for it a second time, and again the glass moved in the opposite direction. He reached a third time, and this time, the glass floated up off the refreshment table, then hovered in mid-air for a few seconds before rearing up away from Chad, then came streaking towards him, stopping just short of his nose, depositing its liquid contents all over his face and clothes, thoroughly soaking him.

The shock and the cold liquid were both more than sufficient to remove the last traces of drowsiness that still lingered in Chad, and he immediately found himself wide awake again, with eyes bulging and a pounding heart that seemed about to come bursting, alien-like, out of his chest at any moment.

The heads of the few remaining partygoers all turned to see what the commotion was. Just as they turned, they saw a sight that they would take home with them and remember for the rest of their lives.

One by one the remaining glasses flew up from the table, splashing their contents at each turned head. Then, pieces of pastry, sandwiches and cold cuts also became airborne, one by one, targeting themselves at the remaining guests. The end of the table itself then repeatedly lifted itself up and banged down loudly on the hard wood floor, again and again, echoing loudly through the near-empty room. The punch sloshed up over the edges of the bowl and the glasses and plates and other tableware clattered about noisily as the table continued its ghostly dance.

By now the eyes of each of the remaining party guests were as wide open as Chad’s, with faces even more panic-stricken, if such a thing were possible. It didn’t take much more to drive them to the point of complete, panic-stricken hysteria, but more is what they got.

A chair floated up off of the floor, and waved around in mid-air, with its legs aimed at the partygoers, as if to drive them away like wild beasts. The chair moved closer to them, waving its legs menacingly, driving them to the exits, which they were by then only to happy to make use of.

Throughout the entire display a loud, chilling ghostly voice wailed and howled, echoing throughout the large, cavernous room, gradually evolving into a delighted, self-satisfied laugh. The voice sounded to Chad very much like that belonging to his escort of earlier in the evening.

While the other partygoers had been beating a hasty retreat through all the exits (and a few windows), Chad merely stood, rooted to the ground in shock. "Oh my God, oh my god…!" he whispered, over and over again, like a mantra.

Because he knew…knew beyond any shadow of doubt…who it was that was causing the disturbance…

When the last guest had departed and Chad was left all alone with the ghostly presence, only then did he finally regain some degree of mobility. He took a step backward, away from the table, tripping over a chair in the process. As he struck the hard wood floor, he was jolted into the reality of the situation. "That wasn’t a dream after all! It was REAL!!" he cried, half in shock, half in pain from contacting the floor with his backside.

The laughing voice continued to echo throughout the room, then finally began to subside.

"Ahhh, that’s better," it said. "I thought they’d never leave! Now we can be alone!"

"Who—" Chad choked. "Who--are you?" Chad now slowly began to scramble away on his hands & knees. "What do you want from me?"

The floating chair arced in mid-air a few more times, and then gently drifted down to the floor, returning to its normal upright position.

"Relax, pal; I’m not going to hurt you." the ghostly voice said.

"What—what’s going on? What’s this all about?"

"What’s it about?" the voice said. "It’s about Halloween. I thought you needed a good scare…and you got one."

"What—what are you talking about?"

The chair shifted suddenly, then creaked, as though a weight had been placed on it. Chad stared intently at it, trying to see the person he felt sure must be seated there.

"I happened to overhear you talking to your friend earlier," the voice said. "I was standing right next to you, in fact, and you never even knew it! I heard you putting down your girlfriend that way."

"You—you heard?" Chad almost whispered. "God—you were there? I—I never had any idea… I still can’t believe it."

"You can believe it. I crash parties like this all the time. I spy, eavesdrop on people." A short pause followed. "Hey, I’ve got to get some enjoyment out of life, you know." The voice laughed bitterly.

"Anyway…well, you just made me so mad! You guys…you shallow guys, you’re all alike. So I thought I’d teach you a little lesson! And I did! You got a real good scare for Halloween, didn’t you!" the voice laughed.

A silence followed. Chad continued to sit and stare at the empty chair as though spellbound.

Finally the voice spoke again. "Well? What are you waiting for? You’ve had your good scare for the night! Why don’t you run? Run away screaming, just like everyone else! Go on! Run!"

Although he was still scared out of his wits, Chad was also intrigued, and his curiosity overcame his fright, and the level of his terror gradually began to subside. Maybe it was something in the tone of the ghostly voice, a certain familiarity, that he recalled from his companion of earlier in the evening. Or maybe it was just the lateness of the hour or the sheer absurdity of the situation. But whatever the reason, Chad gradually became aware of a very strange impression: somehow, he had the feeling that this…entity…meant him no harm.

He slowly got to his feet and, pulling up another chair, sat down opposite the empty one, from whence the ghostly voice came.

"Who—" Chad asked, his voice choking as he recalled the consequences of the last time he’d asked the question. "Who are you, really?"

Silence followed for several minutes. "Maybe I’m the caretaker of this place. Or maybe I was your escort for this evening, a mysterious, faceless fantasy figure. Or maybe only a dance partner. Or maybe I’m all of these. Or maybe I’m nobody at all." The voice paused for a beat, then: "What does it matter? What do you care?"

"I’d—I’d like to know… Really, I would. What’s your name?"

Silence followed.

"You have a name, don’t you?"

Silence followed for another moment or two, then:

"Donna." the voice said, now sounding very small.

"Donna!" said Chad, the faint trace of a smile approaching his lips. "That’s--that’s a very nice name, Donna."

The ice was broken, contact was made, and Chad became aware of a very strange feeling in himself. Suddenly, he heard words coming from his mouth, words that he never in a thousand years thought that he would ever hear himself say to any woman.

"I’m—I’m sorry," he said quietly.. "I’m—I’m sorry for acting like a jerk earlier. I’m sorry if I hurt you or hurt your feelings. I—I want to apologize."

Another long silence followed for what seemed like an eternity. Then, the ghostly voice spoke again, quietly.

"Apology accepted." It said simply.

Chad began to relax and loosen up with his mysterious, unseen companion. And as the conversation between this unusual couple continued, it seemed to Chad that Donna began to relax as well, and she spoke more freely. In the course of their conversation, Chad learned that Donna’s father had once owned the hotel and had turned it into a health spa. After extensively renovating the building, he then experienced some kind of legal trouble, evidently related to some of the ‘experimental treatments’ he had performed there. He died soon after, leaving the property to Donna. She had tried to turn the place into a bed & breakfast, but couldn’t make a go of it. Now she existed solely by renting the place out to private parties and the like.

Despite the bizarre circumstances of the evening, Chad felt a certain rapport with his ghostly companion, a strange familiarity, almost as though he had known her all his life. Chad didn’t believe in such things as fate, and yet it seemed to him at that moment that he were destined to meet this most unusual woman. And as he conversed with the ghostly voice, it seemed to Chad as though it were gradually moving closer to him, yet he didn’t feel afraid or threatened by it.

Finally, the voice was silent for several minutes. Then, when it spoke again, it did so in a curious tone that Chad couldn’t quite identify.

"I—I’m sorry about scaring you earlier tonight," the voice said. "But—Well, you just made me so mad. You reminded me of all the guys I ever knew who only cared about appearances and didn’t care about the person underneath. None of them ever cared about me, the real me."

Finally, the inevitable question occurred to Chad. "How—how did it happen? How did you get this way?"

The voice hesitated before answering. "It was a…scientific experiment gone wrong. I’m all right, I’m perfectly healthy, but…" the voice trailed off.

A shudder ran through Chad. "So you’re not—you’re not—" he couldn’t complete the sentence.

The voice finished it for him, giving every indication that she’d heard and answered the same question before, many many times. "No, I’m not a ghost. I’m very much alive and breathing. I’m an ordinary flesh-and-blood woman. Except that you can’t see me."

"God! How long have you been this way?"

"Almost all my life; nearly as far back as I can remember."

Another chill ran down Chad’s spine.

The voice continued. "You see, Father was kind of an eccentric. He had some weird ideas about mixing science with the arcane and the occult and…well, I’d—I’d rather not talk about it."

The voice was silent for a moment, and Chad regretted starting this line of questioning. But the voice continued. "The point is, all my life I’ve always had to hide away; away from other people, afraid that they might—find out. I’ve never had any friends; no boyfriends, nothing. I’ve never been able to get…close to other people. I’ve always been alone. Practically the only time I can ever be around other people is Halloween, when I can put on a mask and pretend to be..." she paused a moment, then continued in a near-whisper: "…normal."

Chad sat in silence for several minutes, as he absorbed all of this, and contemplated all that had happened that evening. He tried to connect the earlier events with the conversation he was now having with this strange ghostly presence. He tried to imagine what her life must have been like, to have grown up and spent an entire life in such a unique condition, but he finally shook his head; he couldn’t even imagine what such a life must have been like.

Finally, he slowly rose from his chair and said, "Donna? Would you do something for me?"

She hesitated before answering. "What?" she said at last.

"Give me your hand," Chad said, holding out his own.

From out of the air, a small, soft, ghostly hand took Chad’s, and he gently squeezed it.

"Now you’re no longer alone. Now you have a friend."

The empty chair creaked slightly, and Chad felt a slight tug at his hand, as Donna rose to her feet. The ghostly hand release his own, and Chad then felt a head gently resting on his shoulder, and unseen arms holding him tightly. He reached out his own arms and felt the unmistakably slender build of his companion of earlier in the evening. He felt her body shudder with sobs, as he gently cradled her in his arms.

After a while, the two gradually released their embrace. Chad took her unseen hand again and led her away to the empty dance floor. He switched on the sound system, and selecting one track in particular and putting it on "repeat play," he led his ghostly partner to the middle of the floor. Moments later, "Sea Of Love" issued forth from the loudspeakers, echoing through the large, empty room.

"Last dance." Chad said, as he held his unseen partner close to him, and the two began to gently sway in time to the music.