It was the best--and worst--night of my life. I'd finally, finally, finally taken Chad to the Halloween dance. All these weeks of perfecting our costumes had paid off. We looked stunning together. Everyone had said so. He'd looked smug whenever he looked at me--as if he'd won something better than the prize for best costume. I felt perfect. We were perfect.Then, they'd arrived. Their costumes looked authentic--really authentic--of course, they'd won. That wasn't the problem. Being there with Chad, my Chad, had been enough. He'd even kissed me during Monster Mash--which had been awkward as that's not really a "kissing" sort of song, but still, it had been really good.It all went wrong when the "costume winners" went to claim their prizes. Well, no wonder they looked like a posse of evil zombies--they were. My costume couldn't have been more ideal for killing zombies. I had the huge scythe already. All that fake blood on Chad, though. He'd been a meal to go practically. I'd taken down half of them before I could chase after the ones that had taken Chad. I won't say he is definitely dead, but I don't think I'm following fake blood anymore. I told him that he shouldn't ever go as a victim, but did he listen to me? Nooo... not Chad. He thought a grim reaper had to have a victim along for show. It made sense of course, but still.... You just never want to be a victim.Tonight was going to be so perfect too, you know?Crap. Is that an arm?