You are running in a parking garage after your wife Jessica. She's the mother of your twin girls, Amy and Ariel. A week ago she was sweeping the back porch when a breeze caused a potted plant hanging over her to fall and strike her on the top of the head. She woke up from a short coma and believes she's Erika King a spy hot on the trail of some non-existent Abu Darling. A terrorist who she thinks is going to blow up the city. You tracked her to this parking garage where she's running around with a 9mm handgun looking to stop her imaginary arch-enemy. You find her and she points the gun at you. Can you convince her she's your wife?!

You step away from the party and onto the balcony of the Shanghai Hilton. The night, thankfully, is cool. You've been inside shaking hands, chatting, and making the rounds like a good guest does. Until something beckoned you outside. You take a deep breath of the Asian air and let it out slowly. "The night air is quite... enchanting," a woman's voice interrupts you. Gazing over you see a woman in a black dress with a star pattern. She is tall, almost your exact height. Her midnight blqck hair is haloed with blue. Whether its from the city lights or a hairdresser's talent you're not sure.

You're walking down the path in the city park when you spy something out of the ordinary. A Goth woman out in broad daylight. She's dressed more for a funeral than a beautiful summer day. Under a frilly black umbrella she is engrossed in a book. An actual book not some iPad or other electronic reader. She sees you looking, arches an eyebrow, and goes back to reading.

You stare at the TV without really seeing it. The couch you're sitting on feels empty and too quiet. For two years you sat her curled up with Harley, your girlfriend. People talk about True Love but not many ever really experienced it. You had that with Harley. Memories rush back filling your eyes with hot tears. You cover your face. A week ago she stepped off a curb in the city, running towards you and smiling. She didn't even see the car. Now you just cannot seem to function. Listless, drained, and heavy is all you can feel right now. Life seems to have no meaning without Harley. She's gone. So is your will to live. The door to your apartment opens and you barely look up. When you do your eyes go wide and your jaw drops. Its Harley!

You yawn at your monitor. You're three hours into a new Japanese dating sim and so far you're not doing too bad. As the female MC approaches you in the virtual classroom your monitor glitches. The screen goes dark, then blue, and then erupts in a blinding white light. You eventually open you eyes. This is not your room. There is no computer. You are wearing a Japanese high school boy's uniform. You see her standing at the blackboard writing her name. It reads Sakura. She turns around and smiles.

(WLW 🏳️‍🌈) You're waiting for the elevator to rise to your floor. It's Saturday and your just heading down to your car to shop for groceries. You check your watch. It's almost noon. Then the doors open. Out staggers a woman followed by a puff of strange pink mist. The woman coughs several times and you reach out as she stumbles. You recognize her as Misa Collins from across the hall from your apartment. She's rather infamous. B-movie starlet. Gay rights activist. Beautiful and graceful. "Are you alright, Ms Collins?" You inquire.

The company you work for has just donated a ton of money to a local hospital for a renovation of their children's wing. As a junior executive you're expected to attend the grand gala where the CEO will make the announcement. As you mix with the other guests you feel the need to get a breath of fresh air. You step into an empty corridor and almost run into a woman who is fixing the hem of her gown. You open your mouth to apologize when you really get a good look at her. She's tall, almost six foot, slender, poised and... white? Hair like a snowfall, skin as pale as death, and lips red as blood. She's wearing a red gown and heels. You words die in your throat.

You matched with Elllen Hargrove on Tinder. Her profile picture was her at a party while wearing a frilly, bright dress. Her page said she was 5'3" and 102 pounds. Just your type. You two agree on a date but Ellen says you need to pick her up because she has an emergency at work. Ellen gives you the address. Its a local cemetery. Her profile does say she works at a funeral home so you assume that's not too abnormal. You arrive and see her waving from inside a mausoleum. Her attire is not even close to her Tinder profile. Dark Goth inspired dress and makeup. You get out of the car and go up to her.

(LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈) You're at a massive Halloween party that's being thrown by a wealthy friend. Kyle, your friend, has just walked off to dance with some woman in a mummy costume when you are bumped into from behind. You turn to apologize when you meet the gaze of a woman dressed in a 1920s flapper outfit. She's a bit skinny but absolutely adorable. She smiles...

You enter Caroline's office because she forgot to meet you at the restaurant near the Miskatonic campus. A smile creases your lips as you remember how Caroline, you new fiancé tends to be a bit forgetful. You know she's been translating some ancient stone tablet she found during her last expedition to Antarctica. "Hey, I think you forgot...," you start to say. Then you see her. The tentacle for a tongue. Her speaking some horrible phrase. You blood runs ice cold!

The Richmond Gala is the last place you expected to be. Olivia, your girlfriend of four years, has her arm around yours. She smiles at you. It means everything that she stayed when your life was an absolute mes. Five years ago your business was destroyed by a massive corporation's questionable business practices. She propped you up, kept you going, and didn't ask for anything but your love. You had to start over from nothing. Now, five years later, you're back on top. Olivia and you have just snagged two glassses of champagne when you hear her call out. Ella White. Your ex-girlfriend who bolted as soon as you lost everything. You heard some rich tech-bro is dating her. And you suspect he's also funding her lavish lifestyle. A mess you couldn't afford so she left.

"That was wild babe," you say pulling your wife into your arms, "never thought you had that in you." She smiles and kisses you deeply. A small giggle comes out between her parted lips. Then the door to your bedroom is kicked open! Standing there is a woman you recognize. But she's dressed like your wife, a NYPD detective. You realize its your wife Wendy's twin sister Willow. "Willow!" you yell, "what the hell are you doing!?"

There's a knock on you apartment door. You set down the bowl of ramen noodles and look into the peephole. You see a goth girl but don't really recognize her. You open the door.

You see her walking out of a high-end retail store with multiple bags in her hand. She's on the phone giving orders to someone in a voice thats one part seduction and the other part commanding. Women she passes seem to shudder with pleasure while men trail in her wake like water behind a battleship. Then she spots you. She ends her call abruptly and in a hip swaggering gait strolls up to you. The homeless man you were giving money to literally groans and passes out.

You a junior scientist who has spent a year in the Artic studying ice samples taken from deep below the cold surface. The aircraft has just cleared the base and climbed into the freezing air. An hour into the flight something goes terribly wrong. Everyone is screaming. Professor Harris is praying. The pilot is shouting. The plane crashes anyway. You wake up with a gash on your forehead which has frozen shut from the icy air whipping through the fuselage of the wrecked aircraft. You manage to unbuckle yourself and check the other passengers. All dead. You stagger into the snow and look around. There's nothing but ice and snow as far as you can see. Then she appears... Tall, a bit over six feet, silver hair, bedecked in Nordic jewelery, wearing a dress that flows like water pver her body, and she's barefoot! She saunters towards you effortlessly as if she's walking on a sidewalk. Her feet doesn't sink into the tundra. She as a regal bearing like a queen descending the dias where her throne is.

(LGBT 🏳️‍🌈) You get a phone call on a Saturday morning from your neighbors who live in the same duplex as you do. They've a lovely lesbian couple who are really great neighbors and acquaintances. You've known Kate (a blonde) and Ashley (a brunette) since you moved in two years ago. You three have had dinner and drinks hosting each other occasionally. The three of you get along well. " Hey, can you come over for coffee?" Kate asks. You have nothing wlse to do so you go over. Both are sitting at their kitchen table in sun dresses and both appear oddly nervous. Before you can sit down Ashley blurts out something out of the blue. "We want you to be the surrogate father for our baby", the brunette states. "No, clinic either," Kate says, "we want this to be... natural."

(WLW 🏳️‍🌈) You're just outside Los Angeles when your Mercedes EQE sedan just quits on you. Calling AAA results in you standing in front of Hanson's Auto Care while someone is looking at your vehicle. Youre nursing a cup of coffee that is the worst you've ever had. Its so foul any respectable barista in LA would cry about it. You see the owner looking at you with an amused expression. As a corporate boss babe in a tailored suit and skirt you are as out of place here as a fish on a unicycle. You hear the door to the garage bang open and an Asian woman steps into the room. Your heart begins to pound. Tall, muscular, and beautiful with just enough feminine grace to more than intrigue you. Then you see her blush after looking your way. Then you spot the rainbow patch on her gloves. Interesting...

(WLW 🏳️‍🌈) You untangle yourself from the sexy blonde you brought home last night. Lyla Sommers, a nursing student. She's sleeping so peacefully it almost breaks your heart. Your mind drifts back ten hours ago. Her hesitation. Her enthusiasm. Her lips against yours. Quietly you slip into the small kitchette and make coffee. The gurgle and burp of the machine sending an aromatic smell throughout your dorm. You hear her groan and roll over. As you pour a cup of coffee she sits up and is quick to cover herself. Her smile is timid.

You sling your backpack onto your shoulder and hitch up your tool belt. You enter Sawyer World Headquarters to repair an executive elevator that is malfunctioning. The secretary at the front desk buzzes you in and points to the unimpaired elevator. "The executive lift is stuck at the top floor" the woman says with a smile. You ride it up and then have to take the stairs to the top floor. Sweat pools down your back and under your arms since you have to climb up five floors. You exit and see the opulent decor. The air conditioning chills the perspiration on your body. Turning a corner you see the executive elevator whose doors are trying to close but failing. Then she steps into view. Curly, long black hair frame a gorgeous face. Her skin is the color of caramel. Her lips widen in a smile. You swallow hard.