It was bitterly cold for a late October evening and Kittie was aware of the fact she was woefully underdressed.  The invitation she slipped from her pocket read "Pajama Party October 31. Come dressed for cuddles, candy and chaos."  The creamy white paper was technically not hers, but she wasn't letting that stop her from attending. She tucked her short hair behind her ears and closed the long black jacket she was wearing as a shield from the frigid air. 

After a long drive into the country she finally pulled into a tree lined driveway and handed the keys to her '47 Buick to a bored looking valet.  

"Park it near the back honey, I'm not staying long."  She smiled and tipped the driver with a crisp fifty dollar bill.  For a second the vapid look left his face, but the flicker of greed that lit up his eyes came and went and his face relaxed into practiced indifference as he folded the money into his pocket. 

She was greeted at the door and handed over the invitation, the lie she'd practiced all week dripping from her lips like honey.  

"I'm Sasha DeAndre."  

The butler nodded and handed her towards the coatroom.  She shook her head and quirked her lips.  

"It's awfully cold you see, I'd like to hang on to my coat a bit longer if you don't mind."  The butler gave her a curt nod, and opened the door to the foyer.  

"Have a good evening miss."  

Kittie was gratified he hadn't called her ma'am and stepped into a cacophony of colour and sound.  The party was in full swing and not a single head turned as she wended her way through the crowd.  She barely had to say a word to part the throng and she made sure she headed to the open bar first. 

"Vodka tonic please."  The bartender smiled, half his face obscured by a leather mask.  After a few minutes he gave her a crystal glass and Kittie wandered away to sip it as she worked towards the stairs.  She finished her drink in a matter of minutes, the vodka warming her, making her want to take her heavy trench coat off and drape it from the baluster.  "Not yet." She whispered to herself.  "Not yet." 

It took her less than an hour to wander in and out of every room on the top floor, occasionally disturbing guests in the throws of she assumed was passion.  The idea disgusted her.  She began to sweat, the jaunty pumpkin shaped beret weighing down her dark hair, her forehead clammy and damp.  "Almost time."  She fiddled with a bundle of wires in the dusty attic and signed.  She was ready.

She practically bounced down the stairs and took several drags on a cigarette before heading to find the host of the party.  As she had imagined he was surrounded by party goers and had young scantily dressed men and woman draped over him.  Kittie suppressed a shudder and pressed through the throng surrounding him, finally working her way to the front.  

"Alan."  The man looked up with a sharp jerk of his head and the indulgent smile he wore liquified and slid off of his face.   His eyes narrowed and he moved to stand up.  As he struggled to rid himself of his hangers on Kittie ripped over her coat and pulled out the shotgun she had secreted away.  

"Happy Halloween you piece of shit!"  There was a roar as Alan's head exploded, chunks of flesh and rivulets of blood spattering on the dense crowd that surrounded his collapsing form.  For a moment there seemed to be no sound and then a scream ripped through the air.  Kittie took deep breath and began to run, shedding her coat and reloading.  No one moved to stop her.  When she got to the front door she used the butt of the gun to collapse the butler's skull and skittered down the icy steps.  She counted to twenty and ducked behind a Mercedes when an explosion ripped through the upper levels of the mansion and blew the windows out.  The crackling of the fire and screams coming from the party began to fade as she reached her car, her accomplice having left it right where she asked.  

The moon peeked out from behind a bank of fast moving clouds, silver light bathing the path out of her personal hell.  She felt vaguely oppressed.  Like her actions tonight would come back to haunt her, as Alan's actions had.  Regardless of what had just happened, and the joy she thought she would feel never came.  She blinked away scorching hot tears and bit her bottom lip, thinking about the everlasting consequences of her actions.  

"No one was saved, especially not me."