"Hi... uh, Tim, was it?"
Tim was holding the door to his apartment open just a crack. He had been more than a little surprised to hear the doorbell ring - he didn't get very many visitors - and then to find a woman in bright green face paint waiting for him in the hallway. Oh, right, he thought to himself when he saw the tall, black, cone-shaped craft balancing on top of her head. It's October 31st. He would've forgotten all about Halloween this year if it weren't for this.
"That's me," Tim replied, trying not to sound too gruff or unfriendly, but still wondering what this witch wanted from him.
"I'm Mindy, I live just down the hall," the witch continued, pointing a thumb off to the side. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up that we're having a pretty big Halloween party tonight at my place. I don't think it'll get too loud, but you know. Oh, and everyone on this floor is invited, if you're interested."
Invited. That was a word Tim wished he would hear more often. Ever since he moved to this town, he'd been a loner. At first, it was just being so many miles removed from the places where he grew up, his old friends from school, his estranged family. But he'd realized since then that he had no idea how to make friends. All he had was the occasional, bland office get-together, and then coming home and watching TV. He'd passed up far too many opportunities to break out of that rut. He wasn't going to make that mistake again.
"I'll come," Tim blurted out. "I'll be there."
"Oh!" Mindy replied. She seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. "That's great! It'll be lots of fun, don't worry. We'll be getting started at about eight o'clock, so if you want to drop by around then, that would be perfect." She was about to move on, and Tim had started to let the door fall shut between them, when she stopped herself and grabbed the door herself. "Oh, and I almost forgot the most important part! At our parties, we have a strictly enforced rule that everybody's got to wear some sort of costume. You know, just so nobody feels too awkward or left out. Okay, see you at eight!", she said brightly, and the door clicked shut.
Tim wondered what he had just gotten himself into. Dropping in on a random social gathering was one thing, but where was he going to find a costume on such short notice? It was already 6:30 on a cold, dark Halloween night - the pop-up costume shop over in the slowly-dying mall had to be picked clean by now. He was about to give up on the silly idea of going to this party when a memory struck him. He whirled around on his heels and turned to face the door of a nearby closet.
Ten long months ago, Tim had drawn the short straw at work and been picked to serve as the office mascot at the upcoming Christmas party. The get-up they gave him was ridiculous - a green full-body suit with an air pump attached. Only when it was fully inflated did the purpose of the costume become clear: it made for a walking, talking Christmas tree. It was humiliating, to say the least, when he had to stand around wearing that thing for two hours. When it was over, nobody had bothered to ask for him to give the costume back, and so it had ended up, crumpled and forgotten, in a corner of a dusty closet in his apartment.
Now, for the first time since last December, he was thinking about that costume again. He was even thinking about wearing it again, despite the bad memories that were still attached to it. It was either this, Tim figured, or stay home and watch TV all night. And if nothing else, he knew which of those options would be less boring.
---
The party had barely even begun when Tim opened the door and slipped into the back of the room. His peripheral vision was non-existent, but through the clear plastic eyeholes he could see just enough to avoid tripping over the furniture. He shuffled his feet and winced at the squeaking of the puffed-up costume against the wall. Finally, he found a spot that seemed right, stood up straight, and peered through the eyeholes once again. For one thing, he could see that this apartment was a lot larger than his own. Perfect for someone who had a lot of entertaining to do, he guessed.
And there were quite a few people settling in and being entertained in every corner of the living room. The shimmering plastic left Tim pretty nearsighted, but there was one couple, cuddling on the couch right in front of him, that he could see much better. Their "costumes" were simple, both of them sporting face paint that probably came from a kit at the dollar store - the girl's face was pink, looking something like a pig, while the guy's face was done up in the distinctive orange and black stripes of a tiger. "Watch out," the girl giggled as the two of them kissed, "you're gonna smear it!"
Tim wondered why he hadn't thought to run out and find something small like that, rather than coming in this ridiculous, all-encompassing get-up. He wondered why he had even bothered coming here at all. No one would have noticed if he'd just reneged on his promise to show up, and no one was even going to recognize him from inside of this thing anyway. And while it was hard to tell who anybody was, with all the masks and everything getting in the way, he was pretty sure he didn't know a single person here. He'd thought that maybe, just maybe, showing up in a costume for the wrong holiday would draw people's attention, spark conversation, and maybe he'd have an excuse to take it off as the night went on. But no one had even seemed to notice him coming in. Everybody was preoccupied with the people they already knew well, or whatever was on their phones. Meanwhile, Tim seemed to just blend into the background, the same way he did when he wasn't in a costume.
He was seriously debating whether to just leave and forget this whole stupid thing when the lights suddenly went out. There were gasps and a few screams in the darkness, but before anyone had time to ask if there was a blackout, the lights came back on just as suddenly. And when they did, Tim found that he had a much better, unobstructed view of the whole room. He could clearly see everybody in their costumes now, and he was amazed by how realistic a lot of them were. Some of them seemed to be just as amazed by their own handiwork, for some reason - like the snarling werewolf who was picking at the fur on his own arm with a look of confusion on his slobbering muzzle.
But as a stunned silence fell over the crowded room, it started to dawn on Tim that something wasn't right here. He couldn't feel his arms - not like they were going numb, but more like he didn't have any. He tried to turn to one side, and his whole body resisted the movement. And at the same time, he could hear the rustling of his costume, against itself and against the wall, but the noise it made was nothing like the rubbing of fabric. It was the tinkling of tinsel, the clinking of ornaments - all of which he could feel, swaying gently from side to side, like it was hanging off his own body.
Tim found it harder than a lot of the others to come to grips with what had just happened to him - to everyone. A lot of them seemed excited, after a moment or two of frightened confusion, to realize that their costumes had all just become real. Tim, with his movements so restricted that he felt almost paralyzed, couldn't do anything but watch from his post along the back wall. The shocked silence that smothered the room at first now gave way to frenzied murmurs and even a few shouts, but to Tim it was all just unintelligible noise. He would have said that his heart was pounding in his ears, but if he understood this right, he probably didn't even have a heart any longer. He was a tree - technically a living thing, he knew, but for all intents and purposes, an inanimate object.
And so, unable to focus on a single word they were saying, Tim was also unable to avert his eyes from the frisky behavior of the couch couple right in front of him. Their kisses had been rudely interrupted by the sudden appearance of a muzzle on both of their faces, but that didn't seem to stop them. They hadn't become full animals, but had wound up with a lot of animal features on their still-human-shaped bodies. The tiger-man, now covered in a thick layer of fur all over, said something that Tim didn't catch to the pig-woman, and she blushed, which was clearly visible through the light dusting of hair all over her new, long snout. If the tiger was equally flustered, there was no way you would see it on his face.
Tim was relieved when the two of them snuck off to find someplace more private. Replacing them on the couch was Mindy, who looked like she was going to throw up, and not just because her skin was all green. She actually didn't look much different than she had when she'd knocked on Tim's door earlier, except that her elaborate black robes seemed to fit her a lot better now. She reached for a remote and switched off the nondescript horror movie that had been playing on the TV at a low volume. Punching in the channel number for CNN, she turned the volume way up. People - and those who had until just recently been people - quickly gathered around to watch.
The TV screen was angled away, so Tim couldn't see what all of them were seeing. But he could hear enough to get the picture. Whatever bizarre, impossible thing had just happened in this room was not only real, it was a widespread phenomenon. And it wasn't long before the news carried that all-too-vital piece of information, that taking off any part of your costume would cause the changes to become permanent. Some of the party guests looked distraught when they learned this, while others seemed relieved to hear that everyone who hadn't removed their clothes would go back to normal at the break of dawn. Tim was momentarily confused by some of the shocked looks, given that a lot of people still appeared to be completely normal humans. But he had to remind himself that he had never known these people before - they might still be very different from how they'd started out at the beginning of the night. Maybe they weren't so much luckier than himself...
---
"Again, I'm really sorry about this, Tim," Mindy said as she helped him hobble his way down the hallway between their two apartments. "All of this."
Tim was almost as relieved to learn that his tree form was not entirely inanimate as he was to learn that the change would wear off in a few hours. That, and the fact that he could still speak - apparently, three of the ornaments dangling from his branches played the role of two eyes and a mouth just fine. In all the chaos of the night, it hadn't even occurred to him to try to say a word, until the moment that the other partygoers finally noticed him standing in the background. A little after midnight, people had started to trickle out of Mindy's apartment, their futures and the rest of their lives still uncertain. Tim, who needed the most assistance, had naturally been the last to leave.
He was starting to get the hang of moving like this, although he was very glad he wouldn't have to remember how to go through these motions for much longer. Yes, his legs and feet had been magically merged into one thick wooden trunk, planted firmly by its roots in a big bucket of dirt that he guessed was his equivalent to a shoe. But he could still take a "step" forward with a bit of a hopping motion, and that was enough to slowly make his way down the hall. All he had to do was be careful not to shake any of his ornaments off - they were part of the costume, after all - and everything would be alright in the morning.
"It's not your fault," Tim told Mindy as they approached the door of his apartment. It occurred to him that he had no idea what the transformative magic had done with his keys, but then he remembered that he had been unable to turn around and lock the door with the costume on, so it didn't really matter. Mindy just popped the door open and moved aside to let him enter. "Sure, you invited me to your party and all," he continued, "but it was my idea to wear this ridiculous thing. I'm just glad I don't have to stay like this."
Mindy smiled weakly, her bright green face still troubled. She had to feel responsible for a lot more than just what had happened to Tim. "Good night," she said, once Tim had wriggled his way fully into his apartment. Then she closed the door and, from Tim's point of view, disappeared.
And then, once again, Tim was left all alone. It was a lot easier to ignore the changes to his own body when there were other transformed people he could divert his attention to. Now he had nothing to think about but the feeling of his needly leaves - like having permanent goosebumps - as they brushed against the drywall. It was dark in here, and Tim could hardly reach for a light switch to guide his way. He had no choice but to keep on hobbling until he made it to the living room - and then what? Would he even be able to sleep? He certainly wasn't going to try and lie down in this state. Maybe he would just have to stand there for a few hours.
But it was a lot harder to hop around without a mostly-human person propping him up. Come on, he thought to himself. A few more of these "steps" and I'll be right next to the window. I can watch the sun come up! He hopped. And he hopped. And then he tripped over the divider between the linoleum and the carpet, sending his whole body crashing to the floor, a faceplant right on the part of his surface that passed for a face.
Overcome with pain, it took everything Tim had in him to lift his head - well, the uppermost part of his cone-shaped form - a few inches off the ground. He could just barely see... shattered baubles all over the floor, their sharp broken edges glittering in the moonlight. He groaned and let his head fall back down against the carpet with a loud thwack. And that was when everything went black.