Magical Sailor Fuku

Halloween is right around the corner. All around the US, and other countries, people are planning costumes to wear, whether to go out trick-or-treating or to attend a costume party.

With this in mind, just how would someone react to their costume becoming 'real,' that is - a person dressed up as a vampire ends up with an aversion to sunlight, garlic, and mirrors and develops a taste for blood - becoming a true vampire. Needless to say, it's very TG-able, though not that many people (in proportion) dress up as something appropriate to the opposite sex, so it doesn't have to be TGish.

The exercise for this week is to write a 'short' scene in which a transformed individual deals with the aftereffects of the transformation. You certainly may write more if you choose, but the focus for this exercise is on a character's reactions, not the description of a transformation scene. It's also focused on a scene, rather than a whole story - but you could easily you it as a jumping board to propel a new story. ^.^

Have fun!

That sounds like a really interesting idea, and one I could get my teeth into. It reminds me a lot of the old Raucous Chicken stories on the TSA; I might have an idea or two I would have liked to use then that I can use to spur myself on.

The curse.

"M-my face!" With shaky hands, out of morbid curiosity and nothing else, I move the worn bandage-like strand of material from my nose, and like my rotten mouth and hollowed eyes, my nose had become nothing but a flattened, almost entirely fleshless cavity. I couldn't even verbally express aloud the horror I felt; all I could do was moan woefully as I stared blankly into the reflection of the mummy before me in the mirror, in the men's restroom.

Why had this happened to me? All I had done, was dress up as a mummy for the office party in the division I worked at and, of course, joining in on the fun you can expect from costume parties. Before I knew it, I felt odd and needed to check myself out in the bathroom... To discover this nightmare. I was covered in bandages, aged into the quality of rags, the exposed flesh was decayed and smelled rancid, and I could feel the lightness of my head due to having no brain. I really didn't question how I could still think; I just knew that I was devasted, my whole world crumbling before me.

But, then, someone else entered the bathroom and greeted me, somehow distracting me from what I had become. "Hey! Man, you did a good job on that... And from what I heard outside, you do a good impression of what a mummy sounds like! You might have the contest for best costume in the bag."

I didn't even try to answer him, that brown-nosing Henry. I thought his type were a pain in the neck. Still, my silence didn't seem to dissuade him from asking the million-dollar question while he drained his lizard at the urinal: "Say, who are you, anyway?"

I decided to moan, since that was all that I could do. And if I'm lucky, then maybe it'd get him to stop bothering me, as I had other things to concern myself with.

"Ah, I see..." He began to reply with a knowing look upon his face. "Acting the part completely, and leaving everyone to find out if they reveal who you are after winning, eh?"

I just moaned again and gave a short nod, hoping he'd shut up and get the heck away. What was I going to do with my life? There weren't many occupations a mummy could have in this day and age, with the exception of being a science experiment. And even in the stories... Hold on; mummies could curse people, right?

By the time Henry had finished washing his hands in the sink beside me, I had formulated a plan. I was going to try and curse Henry to fit the form of the costume he wore, which were the robes of a witch you see in those covens or whatever. However, that's not at all how I perceived a witch to appear like...

I rested my hand on Henry's shoulder as he made to pass me, and I willed him to change with all of the hope of someone wanting to have some purpose in their life, and also wanting to share the misery I had and am still experiencing. Astonished, and quite delighted, the curse took effect immediately, and Henry became an old, ugly hag of a witch, sans the pointy hat. He, now a she, now had a long, crooked nose with a big hairy wart on the end, a narrowed face that was wrinkled, with hollowed cheeks and shoulder-length hair of grey straw.

It wasn't long before Henry was shrieking like a banshee and feeling around with her withered hands, and I felt happy, like I had performed an important task and carried out vengeance at the same time. I now felt like I had purpose despite the horrible affliction upon me, my very own curse. But, I always thought of myself as a nice person, and liked to share... It seemed only fair, really. And as others from the party rushed inside to investigate, my eyes would have twinkled with mischief if I had any.