Halden would be the first to admit that his cabin on the outskirts of Destiny City was a tad remote compared to more urban lodgings. The sounds of nature were more prominent here near the foot of the mountains, as he had chosen a field not far from the treeline to set up his home. Therefore it wasn't uncommon for the man to hear wildlife howling or the trees creaking in the night. However, with Halloween looming and reports of strange fog cropping up in the news, things weren't quite normal around the longhouse. After all, the mist seemed to creep out from the mountain base toward the city, which left Halden right in the line of fire.

It was the weekend, the Saturday just before Halloween in fact, so the Norwegian-American was allowing himself to enjoy the festive air. He often didn't open the restaurant past launch on Saturdays and Sundays to allow himself more free time for his hobbies and patrolling for Negaverse activities. This evening however? The itinerary was horror movies, beer and pizza. It was the most American thing he could think of. So engrossed was he with classic Ghostbusters (he'd never seen it before) that he didn't notice the tendrils of fog snaking past his window. Not at first.

It was when he was taking a quick break to refill his stein that the page noticed he couldn't see the normal starlit field of his yard outside. There was only swirling grey. For a man that didn't really scare easily, it was admittedly creepy. He couldn't see anything past the panes of glass. Setting his mead down, Halden made his way to the kitchen door and pulled the latch.

A sense of smothering dread touched clawed at him the moment a wisp of the fog teased at his chin. Knowing how strange Destiny City was around the holidays, it wouldn't have been surprising if there was something supernatural behind the feeling. Not willing to let the vapor into his home, Halden stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Now fully outdoors, the dread escalated into a feeling of being scrutinized. Watched. Hunted. Gripping the hammer etching in his fist while it dangled from its chain 'round his neck, the page called upon his wonder and felt power fill him as he transformed into Vígríðr. He didn't fear natural dangers in his civilian form, but humans could often do little against eldritch horrors.

The sensation didn't lessen as the page moved toward the barn and his workshop, if anything it grew worse. He knew he was moving in the right direction, but the fog was so thick he couldn't even see the structure until it was barely five feet from him. Something made him turn. There hadn't been a sound, more of a sixth sense really. There, along the path he'd taken from his house, loomed... something.

It was huge, with what seemed like cruel horns or antlers reaching to rend the heavens asunder. It was hard to tell with the mist obscuring its features. It stood on two legs like a man, but nothing could've been further from. It was unnatural, Vígríðr could feel it.

"What Hel-spawned demon stalks a son of Jupiter in the night?!" the page shouted in challenge, unwilling to give in to the rising fear that caught at his throat.

If he was going to die, he'd die fighting and meet his ancestors with head held high. The being didn't move, seeming to consider him like a human would an ant. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the monstrous figure turned and vanished into a fog bank. Vígríðr released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead. Carefully but quickly, he made his way back to the cabin and shut the door with a snap.

Before powering down, the man checked and double-checked all his locks. He'd been lucky, there was no doubt about that... and no shame to be glad in living to see another sunrise. Happy Halloween indeed.