‘You danced with Catrina? But she died, centuries ago . . . ’
Jake wasn’t interested in small talk. After his date had dumped him for a better offer – a flash car and bespoke suite – Jake almost didn’t go to the Halloween party until he remembered the fancy dress costume hanging on his door. What could possibly go wrong? The wig alone had cost him 50 quid. And he had pulled within minutes.
‘They say she calls to collect, as the veil lifts between this world and the next-’
Ignoring the warning, Jake reached out and touched her face, the skin crumbling to grey dust in his fingertips.