A Strange Woman

You turn around to see a woman you somehow missed. Your eyes have a little trouble focusing on her at first, though you couldn't say why. One moment she looks like you'd expect from a haunted house performer. She's clearly dressed up as a sort of lumberjack, perhaps even a 'sexy' lumberjack based off of how much skin she's showing. However, the clothes she's wearing are clearly off the rack. The torn jeans have slashes in them that were clearly made with a box cutter and haven't had a chance to fray yet. It does seem like a nice choice that some of the rips are made to look like claw marks, but the 'blood' caked there is clearly corn syrup with food coloring. She has a similarly ripped flannel tied about her waist, and is wearing a dirty tank top that draws attention to makeup on her shoulder that's a decent attempt at a bite wound. She hefts a plastic wood axe over her shoulder, and her blonde hair has been mussed to look a little wild.

Your eyes water and finally you have to blink. What you see when you open them again isn't the same. It's the same woman alright, but her jeans are much more worn, frayed at the rips. She looks like she's actually lived in this outfit for awhile. The fake blood is gone too, the wounds it would have come from showing as puckered scars on her tanned skin. She looks much more built than before, toned muscles outlined in the light. You'd thought her hair was blonde, but now it looks pure white, hanging down her back to waist length in a tousled mane. The axe she's got balanced on her shoulder looks real. You take in a breath in surprise at the seeming sudden change, and you smell her from across the room. Gamey, like a wet dog. You find yourself blushing in spite of yourself, as the whole picture is strangely attractive to you.

"Rude to stare," she says with a toothy smirk, her canines looking just a bit predatory.

"S-Sorry," you stammer, your blush deepening. "I just... didn't see anyone around."

"I was outside," she says, as if there was really an outside here on the second floor. "You lost?"

"I uh... think I am," you admit. You're not sure if you're just playing along or genuinely unnerved.

"Good thing you found the place," she chuckles. "Lotta things out there. It's pretty wild."

"I'm... Morgan," you nod, inwardly wondering why you're introducing yourself to a haunted house performer.

"You can call me Lilith," she replies. "You here alone?"