Halloween

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I hate Halloween, I thought to myself angrily as I woke up on the morning of October 31. I had a bad experience when I was younger and have been scarred ever since. My boyfriend Jason loved it though, especially after black folks decided we'd make Halloween all about the culture. He was excited about his costume, but refused to share what it was. He said it was a surprise and that it would make me have a change of heart about Halloween. I doubt that highly. One of his best friends threw a big party every year, so we were headed there tonight.

Thankfully it was Saturday and I didn't have to rush to get myself together after work. I wanted to have lunch with Jason because I knew even though we'd be at the party together tonight, he'd be too excited to pay me any attention. I hadn't seen him all week and I missed him, so I called.

"Hey babe, you wanna grab some lunch with me?"

"Aww I'd love to, but I have to put some final touches on my costume."

"Really?! I haven't seen you all week Jason," I whined.

"I know baby, but I gotta finish this. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."

"Ok, fine," I said disappointed and hung up.

I waited until the last minute to decide what I would be for Halloween because Jason and I usually coordinated what we'd wear, but because he was being so extra this year and didn't want me to know who he was going as, I had to figure things out on my own. By the time I made it to the Halloween store, the only thing left in my size was the cliche slutty French maid costume. I bought it without trying it on and went on with my day. I was out later than I anticipated, so I had to get home and get ready quickly. As I was putting on make up I heard my phone buzz. It was a text from Jason.

Hey baby, I'm running behind so I won't be able to pick you up. I'm sorry. Text me when you're ready to leave and I'll have an Uber pick you up and bring you.

He was really annoying me today.

I arrived to the party about an hour later and I was surprised to see the mansion was already packed with people. I picked up my phone to call Jason but saw that I didn't have service. I walked around for about 20 minutes looking for him and was starting to get frustrated so I decided to stop at one of the bars to get a drink. As I stood in the line I felt a rough tug at my hips and warm breath on my neck.

"What the fuck are you wearing?!" A deep voice said.

The slutty French maid costume definitely lived up to its name. My double Ds were spilling out the top and the dress barely covered my ass. I added fishnet stockings to cover my thick thighs and to add to the overall hoe factor. I rarely wore heels, but tonight I wore a pair of clear stripper sandals. I knew Jason wouldn't like my body on display at the party, but he would just have to get over it tonight. He was lucky I even showed up.

The voice in my ear startled me, but sounded familiar. I jerked away and looked at the man from the ground up. He wore combat boots, a pair of camo pants that hugged him in all the right places, a vest with metal breastplates and a thin shirt that hugged his muscular arms perfectly. His hair was cut low all over, except for in the middle were he had short dreads that sprung up and away from his head wildly. Two of his lower teeth were dipped in gold. The look in his eyes was one of pent up anger and rage. Jason had transformed himself into my own personal Killmonger.

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