Lila, a bright-eyed girl with a mischievous grin her belly and navel most ticklish, clutched her notebook to her chest as she approached the looming front door. Her boots sank softly into the dew-soaked grass, heart fluttering with equal parts excitement and dread. "I bet I find something amazing for my collection tonight," she whispered to herself, glancing over her shoulder at the lengthening shadows.

Lila tiptoed across the marble floor, her gaze darting from one mysterious doorway to another. She paused at the foot of a long staircase, tracing a finger over a banister carved with strange, swirling patterns. A faint giggle echoed from above—high, musical, and impossible to place.

Lila crept closer, breath held tight in her throat. The lump shifted, and from the darkness emerged a creature—softly glowing, with feathers like midnight velvet and too many fingers tipped in shimmering silver. Its eyes sparkled with playful malice. The Tickle monster, equal parts enchanting and sinister, unfurled itself and circled her slowly. "Are you here to play, little one?"

"I—I think so. What kind of game?" Lila stammered, trying to sound braver than she felt. "The oldest game of all. The one that makes you laugh and squirm," purred the Ticklebeast, advancing with a glint in its eye. Before she could react, silken feathers danced along her arms, her sides, her feet. Laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, echoing through the empty hallways.

Lila collapsed onto the dusty floor, helpless with mirth as the creature’s fingers moved faster, igniting peals of laughter that bordered on agony. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her notebook tumbling from her grasp. The world spun and shimmered, the mansion seeming to breathe in time with her gasps.

The Ticklebeast is gone, vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Lila lies still, her laughter faded to a final, silent smile. Her notebook lies open beside her, a single feather pressed between its pages—a memento of a night when joy became too much to bear.