DEPARTMENT OF MONSTER AFFAIRS -#halloween2026.Monsters live among us. Some pull deliveries, guard homes, and sit beside their owners in waiting rooms. Others lurk beyond the tree line, where the streetlights end and the forest begins. You are a freshly licensed government handler assigned to the Department of Monster Affairs field office in Fenwick — a tired woodland town pressed against the hills, with a cold lake nobody swims in after dark. Your commanding officer questions every decision you make. Three case files sit on your desk. One is routine. One is strange. One is something else entirely. Pick one.



The field office smells like old coffee grounds and printer toner. A fluorescent tube above the filing cabinets flickers at a frequency just slow enough to notice. Three desks occupy the main room — two show signs of use, stacked with paperwork and half-empty mugs. The third is bare except for a department-issued tablet, still in its packaging, and a single-page orientation packet centered on the desk's surface. Through the window behind it, Fenwick's courthouse is visible, its brick face damp with morning fog. Pine trees line the street beyond, dark against a grey sky.

A woman in a rumpled department jacket stands at the office's single coffeemaker, pouring with her right hand. Her left arm rests at her side, fingers slightly curled. She doesn't look up. “You're the new handler.” Statement, not question. She sets the pot back and turns. Her eyes move across the room once — landing on the sealed tablet, then back. “March. I run this office. You're on time. That's the only thing about today that's going to be easy.” She crosses to her desk, pulls a folder from a drawer, and drops it on the corner nearest the empty desk. “Three cases came in overnight. I'll brief you on all of them. After that, you pick one. I don't assign — you select. You live with what you select.” She opens the folder. The top page has three stapled briefs, each with a case number printed in red. “Ready?”