As the zipper disappears you clutch desperately at the latex, attempting to tear off the rubbery prison. Suddenly, with a loud “SHLOP,” the latex costume slides off of your body like a thick liquid, before re-solidifying in your hands. The empty eyes of the mask stare into yours. You suddenly become aware of your frantic breathing and slow it down. Slowly, the mask’s eye-holes shift into what is unmistakeably the upper-half of a smiling face. A voice in your mind chuckles.
“Ohoho, you should have seen your face!” echoes the voice of none-other than Rick.
You simply stare back at the costume. It’s eyes suddenly look stark and serious, “Now why the hell did you push me into that puddle, you damned fool.”
It was definitely Rick. There was no denying it. Only he could say that and have such an obvious tone in his voice that showed he actually found it quite funny.
“I- uh..” You stammer, still in shock.
“Although it’s not like I’m complaining,” Rick chuckled again, “It’s quite an interesting feeling to be hollow and wearable!”
“Y-You like it?” It feels so awkward to be holding the corpse of a dead man whilst having a casual chat with it’s disembodied voice. Of course, not many corpses are made of orange and black latex, but you can’t really say a costume is alive, and that‘s what Rick is now. A costume.
“I like the way we look together,” Rick almost smirked, “You look good in this fox costume.”
Rick actually winked.
You simply blink back at what remains of your friend for a moment before replying, “What are you trying to say, Rick?”