House Hydra: Ashton & Open
Although he was over a hundred years old, Ashton had never experienced a Halloween before. Certainly not a Halloween like he'd been told would occur at St. Margaret's. Most of his life since hatching had been spent in the volcanic caves of Iceland where he'd learned through trial and error how to hunt, how to fly, and how to transform into a human to go down into the nearby village and assimilate himself in among the villagers.
Hydra was said to be in charge of doing a haunted house in their dorm, and while he'd been asked if he'd like to participate, Ashton had declined, choosing instead to sit and wait and watch. If it became too dreadfully boring or if these ghosts, the rising dead, that were supposed to appear bothered him too much, he would retreat. There was an excitement on the air that was almost palpable, almost tangible, and Ashton breathed through his mouth as he sat coiled in the lobby just before the haunted house entrance. He tasted the air, his senses keen and his neck curved as his head tipped back, breathing it in. The hour was nigh. It was showtime for the living and for the dead and Ashton was eager to watch what unfolded.