The large, empty warehouse was dark and ominous, with white wax candles floating in the air everywhere. Bats screeched on occasion from the corners of the building, and fog crawled across the floor like it was a live creature. A sinister string quartet eerily filtered through the air--except when you stepped onto the dance floor, where a pulsating techno beat nearly deafened you.

Draco's Halloween Masquerade was a great success. Every one looked so beautiful, but eerily so against the menacing backdrop.

He was a handsome devil, quite literally. Two discreet demon horns poked out of from his sleek hair. He wore a crisp, black suit with an impossibly dark red vest of crushed velvet underneath. His skin looked more pale than usual, and blood seemed to be caked around his fingernails. His mask was ornate and expensive looking, and the witches who passed by speculated that it was outlined with real gold leaf. Even with his disguise shielding half of his face, you could tell he was breathtaking. That hard, masculine jaw. That haughty, arrogant mouth.

A trio of witches who had all dressed as angels began to glide over to him, trailing silver sparkles in their wake.