You had no idea what to be for Halloween. What made it even worse was the fact that you were visiting your best friends in New York City. They invited you to a costume party at a huge club. Not wanting to disappoint your friends, you did your damnedest to make the coolest costume ever, and you totally succeeded! That is, until your luggage got lost at LaGuardia.
Now, you’re on the subway on Halloween, heading toward your friend’s place in the Village, completely without a costume. Completely enveloped in your phone, you neglect to see the punk kid sit across from you and begin to stare at you. It isn’t until your phone dies (DAMN IT!) that you notice him. He is young, covered in piercings in a spikey leather jacket. His red skin and horns, accompanied by his completely red pupils alluded to a demon costume. To be honest, the makeup is really impressive! He really went all out for that!
You give the kid a thumbs up, showing you approve of his amazing get up. In response, he licks his lips with a pierced tongue, and winks at you. Shocked, you try to look elsewhere, now completely ignoring the punk. In a few stops, you arrive at your transfer, and get off the subway. Feeling a strange compulsion, you turn around to see the punk following you in a crowd of people. You begin to worry, as you follow the route to your next platform. It is completely empty when you arrive. That is, aside from you, and the punk. You stop and stare forward. Holding your hand on your belongings, trying to look strong and tough. In your peripherals, you see the punk smiling at you, and laughing. His distorted voice begins to echo throughout the tunnels. The subway arrives, and you look forward to being surrounded by other people. Stepping aboard, you are terrified to find it completely barren.
Turning around, you see the punk at the far end of the car, his feet up on the seat in front of him, and his arms crossed: smirking at you. You saunter to the opposite end of the train, and take your seat. Beads of sweat roll down your face as you sit in silence, his laughing echoing in your ears. Almost compulsively, you turn to look at him, and your blood runs cold. He is sitting right next to you, smiling with sharp demonic teeth.
“Happy Halloween, buddy. I want a good costume this year.” He grasps you by the neck and holds you against the cold metal wall. You watch in terror as his red skin begins to bubble and liquify. It drops from his body like droplets of water, pooling at his feet like blood. It crawls up your leg, searing heat radiating as it envelops your calves and feet. Your pants and shoes are quickly taken by the hot rubbery liquid, and quickly is reshaped into tight skinny jeans and tattered, smelly, black high tops. The smokey and sweaty musk emanating from your new sneaks invade your nose, hypnotically numbing your senses. The demon skin continues to crawl up your legs, they quickly lose fat and pack on lean muscle, taking on the familiar red tint. Your mind is quickly reprogrammed as the musk surrounds your mind, erasing all your consciousness. The rubbery red skin has made it to your chest and arms, burning holes in the black shirt you were wearing, now adorned with metal studs and a big red anarchy symbol in the center. Beneath it, pierced nipples ornament your chiseled abdomen. Two studded leather cuffs clasp themselves on your wrists, highly suggestive of your current situation.
By the time the skin reaches your face, your personality and memories are gone. All traces of the former you, destroyed. You feel the penetration of the piercings on your nose, lips, eyebrows, and ears. A thick, sexy tongue piercing now lives in your mouth. Sharp fangs protrude from your canines and premolars, resembling those of a wolf. Your hair falls off in clumps, as a mohawk tops your now unrecognizable face. Two horns burst from your skull, and two red eyes open, signifying the end of the metamorphosis. The deep, bellowing laughter your former self was so frightened of now emanates from your throat. You slide off a sneaker and inhale the intense smell, wafting also from your tattered and dirty union jack socks. The last of you floats away from your body, as your consciousness now watches from the outside, still tied to your body.
You look like the punk boy. A complete replica. The formerly red skin changes into an average white tone. Your body picks up the spiked leather jacket from the ground and slides it on, taking care to hear the well used leather’s creaks and stretching. Pushing on the two horns, they retract back into your skull. He winks at you, as the doors open to let on crowds and crowds of people. A cute skater boy sits across the aisle from your possessed body, and gives him a smile. Your body throws a peace sign, and begins to approach him. Without saying a word, it pulls him into a deep, passionate kiss, as it gropes his crotch. You can only watch, you can only see, you can only smell that dank musk… For all eternity.
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