Halloween Spirit

| Oct 24, 2011
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“Oh God I really have to piss!” Shawn Vyce thought as he semi-jogged along the sidewalk. All the bars were closingand he thought he could make it home, but…

“Gotta find a place… gotta find a place…”

Shawn loped along in his rabbit costume feeling stupid, and hoping he wouldn’t have an accident. This wasn’t the way he wanted to end Halloween night. He would’ve much rather spent the remainder back at Liz’s place, but she had other ideas.

A month ago, Shawn’s friend Hank suggested that a bunch of their friends go out as a costumed group for Halloween, to try to win the top prize at the Spirit Bar’s annual contest. The $1000 prize would divide nicely between the five of them. After some phone calls and texting, they had their plan.

Hank dressed as a magician with a top hat, suit and wand. Shawn rented a white rabbit costume which was thick, sweaty, and looked a lot like Ralphie’s pj’s from “A Christmas Story.” It was kind of hard to find one in his size- Shawn was six four, and out of shape with a big beer gut. George dressed as a playing card, using 2 pieces of particle board strapped over his shoulders — the Ace of Spades. Kind of appropriate as he looked a little bit like Lemmy from Motorhead, which he played up by wearing a leather biker look under the card pieces. George’s wife, Jill, also dressed as a playing card — the Ace of Hearts.

Halloween night started well enough. They all gathered at George and Jill’s place to get into costume and have a few drinks to “warm up.” It was, after all, a chilly night! The wind was cold and the silver moon ducked in and out behind fast moving high, black clouds.

“Perfect haunting weather!” Liz said.

“Perfect night for magic!” Hank said, waving his wand then finishing his beer.

“Oh God I can’t hold it much longer! Shit! Wait! Evergreen Cemetery is just ahead! I can go behind a tree there or something!”

So they had drinks at George and Jill’s. Liz showed up last. She dressed as the sexy assistant: fishnets, heels and a satin bodice. And was she ever sexy! She wanted Jill to help with her hair, since Jill was a hairdresser.

Shawn liked Liz. He hadn’t had a girlfriend, hell even a successful date in two years. Not since his last girlfriend found out he cheated on her with a stripper. But that was two years, a whole state, and another job ago. He picked up and moved east and started anew here. And Liz seemed so nice and so hot and . . . she didn’t feel the same way about him. But maybe tonight, he could change her mind!

Shawn arrived at the cemetery. It had a low wrought iron fence, maybe waist high. It was old, rusty in places. Fortunately for him, part of it was flattened by a car a week before so he didn’t have to jump it. Tree . . . There’s a tree! Shawn ran behind it, unzipped his costume and . . .


The bar was crowded, but they managed to find a place near the beer taps and get lots of drinks. They were regulars at the bar, and good tippers, so that helped.

The bar scene was a blur. The costumes, the people, and the free gropes Shawn got from women trying to get by him in the crowd . . . he loved it. At midnight, the judges ruled on the best costumes.

And the best group was . . .

Star Wars Zombies!

Applause! Toasts! Chugging!

Shawn’s group applauded politely. Liz was a lot more enthusiastic than the others as Zombie Han was hitting on her all night.

They announced second prize in the group category (gift certificates) and the Magician Act won that. They hugged and cheered and Shawn pinched Liz’s butt. She glared at him and quietly but firmly said “No!”

Drink, drink, drink. Last call! Look how long the lines are for the bathrooms! Shawn got into line for the men’s room when the guy in front of him (not dressed in a costume) turns and says “Nice fuckin’ bunny suit dude!”

Shawn was humiliated, and didn’t want to start anything with this guy, who was much bigger than him. He sighed, smiled, and said “Yeah, thanks.”

And got out of line. He could probably make it home . . .

Shawn realized he wasn’t peeing on a tree. He was peeing on the tombstone next to it. The stone was really old and worn. Shawn couldn’t read it.

“Oh well,” Shawn said. “Have a drink on me, whoever you were.”

Elisabeth Mather (1756-1784) had enough. She had enough of people desecrating her stone — of the humiliation of having her husband’s mistress buried next to him while she was buried away in a corner. She had enough of humiliation in general, especially at the hands or genitals of men. From beyond she cried out — and something heard her. A Spirit powerful and old — older even than the land in which Elisabeth’s bones and dust rested. The Spirit heard.

Shawn shook himself, zipped his jeans up, then the costume as well.

The clouds covered the sliver of room in the sky as the wind picked up, sending leaves scattering. A chill ran up Shawn’s spine.

Then something grabbed Shawn’s ankles! He tried to run but the more he struggled, the stronger the grip became. He lost his balance and fell across the wet ancient tombstone. He looked back at his feet.

Two hands made of bits of bone and adipocere held together by a strange mist thrust out from the cold earth and had a tight grip on his ankles. Shawn tried to scream, but couldn’t. He clawed and tried to climb over the stone, but the hands held tight. In fact, he seemed to be pulling the arms out of the ground as he now could see forearms and elbows protruding from the dirt.

Shawn felt tired and weak, and the stone he gripped seemed to be . . . growing? In fact, the rabbit suit was looser than before as well. What was going on?

This had to be a dream!

The weaker he felt; the hands and arms holding him coalesced. More bones appeared, muscle, tendons . . . all surrounded by the mist holding it like skin.

Suddenly he felt intense pain in his hips and groin, like someone kicked him there so hard that the bone broke. He even heard a slight crack! The pain was so intense that he lost his grip on the urine slicked stone and fell into an almost fetal position. He folded his arms around himself trying to endure the pain. Nothing existed for him but pain.

He felt something strange on his bare arms. Bare? His nails were digging in where he gripped himself. He had long nails — as long as a girl’s! That can’t be!

The pain in his hips suddenly stopped but his ankles burned where the hands had gripped them. He looked down. The hands had released him, but he was now lying partially in a large hole. The bunny suit looked smaller and now tighter. The arms were missing. His hips felt so . . . different.

Suddenly a mist surrounded him and he felt himself lifted by the shoulders and pinned to the tree.

He looked down into the face of the thing holding him there. His eyes grew wide with horror. The dirt caked skull was surrounded by mist which slowly seemed to be rebuilding the face! As the face rebuilt, Shawn felt his own face and neck tingle and burn. Eyes suddenly appeared in the skull’s empty sockets, and Shawn’s eyes stung. He felt his body slowly sliding down the tree until he was looking this, this . . . thing in the face. Was he shrinking? Wait — the mist made the thing’s face look almost handsome, with a stout neck and hardening features. “He” gripped Shawn’s shoulders tightly, and he could feel them burning.

Suddenly, the misty head sprouted hair: black, thick hair that quickly grew. Shawn felt something tickling his shoulders. His now bare shoulders?

He looked down and saw his thick rabbit suit was gone, replaced by what looked like a woman’s swimsuit. No — not a swimsuit: a one piece thing like from the old Playboy clubs.


His stomach was still a little chubby, but he could see his hips flaring out and his bare, beautiful legs. He could see his stomach still perceptibly shrinking, and, and . . .

Oh my God no!

He saw that the mist was filling out the thing’s chest, and his own chest was beginning to bulge and bud. He was growing breasts!

Shawn grabbed the misty corpse and tried to pull “his” fingers from his shoulders, but “he” held them tight. Rather than weakening “his” grip, Shawn felt his arms burn and become thinner — his hands much more feminine.

Horrified, Shawn looked down and saw devastating cleavage. His breasts had to be a D cup at least! “But I’m a guy! Guys don’t have tits!” he thought.

The mist creature seemed to close “his” eyes and Shawn shrank even more. He pushed Shawn away and onto the ground. The mist around “him” solidified then disappeared, becoming skin. Standing above him was a man in his late twenties, with black hair and average looks. He was dressed in a pants and simple shirt. He seemed to be looking himself over, surprised.

Shawn sat sprawled on the ground where the guy had pushed him and looked at himself. He looked down over his breasts to see that his hips had indeed flared out from a tiny waist, covered in a shiny powder blue outfit. And, and . . . Oh No! His penis was gone! That’s what felt so strange! The bottom of his outfit was high cut around his now fishnet stocking covered legs, and he saw no bulge to indicate manhood! In fact, with those hips and breasts, he looked like a beautiful woman in a bunny costume! He now WAS a woman! She looked at her thin arms and hands with their long red painted nails, and looked up at the man standing over her.

The man standing above her smiled. Shawn felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and tried to speak but could only cry. The man reached down to help her up. Shawn was scared, but allowed him to help, especially since she had never stood in the four inch heels she now wore.

She stood and looked at herself. She turned and looked at her feminine butt (with a dirty bunny tail.) She pulled at her long brunette hair which, even as curly as it was, reached down to the small of her back. She had lost at least a foot in height.

The man spoke to her quietly. “My name is now John. I don’t know what powers brought me back, or made me a man, but they used you to open that door, and to exact a lesson upon you. You, who treated women as playthings, are now one yourself. In fact, you are now my wife, Elisabeth. I will teach you to be a proper woman, and you will teach me of these strange times and more of this strange language that I speak even now. And I will no longer be treated poorly by men.”

“Wife? But I’m a man!” Elisabeth said, finding her voice. It was soft and feminine.

“Do you look like a man? You are dressed like a whore, and are most definitely a woman. You will remain one the rest of your days.” With that, John walked away, leaving Elisabeth alone in the cemetery. She slowly followed, falling twice, but lost him in the dark streets now beginning to empty of the late night bar crowd. She shivered in the cold night, then stopped at a passing storefront to look at her reflection.

She was an average looking woman, maybe in her late twenties with long curly hair. Her breasts were easily her best feature and her hips were a bit too wide, she thought. She traced her figure with her hands as she gazed in the window, then cried some more.

Slowly, she walked back to her apartment in those heels, finding that she had no keys. No wallet or ID either. They must be back at the cemetery, she thought, and walked through the cold night back there. Halfway back, she removed the heels as her feet ached. She searched around the tree and the ancient grave. Where was that hole that was there? It was gone, and the ground was firm and overgrown like it had never been disturbed.

Elisabeth didn’t read the mossy, worn stone. If she had, she would see, faintly, the name of Shawn Vyce.

She searched a while and but never found the keys or her ID.

The next morning, John found Elisabeth asleep in the cemetery, and took her back to an apartment that Elisabeth just “knew” was hers. There, Sara found an ID and keys to her car and this apartment. “Elisabeth Mather” it said, and new memories flooded into her head, not replacing but in addition to those of being Shawn.

Shawn Vyce was declared missing a couple days later. Despite a thorough search, he was never found, and eventually declared dead.

With Elisabeth’s help, John Mather learned the ways of his new time quickly. He became a leading advocate for women’s rights, and treated Elisabeth well — much better than John had ever been treated as a woman. He studied hard and after many years became a lawyer — which would’ve been impossible in his first life. He could never understand how or why he had this second chance, but was determined to make the best of it.

The Spirit moved on, satisfied.

Elisabeth Mather found work as a secretary in a trucking firm. The male side of her brain hated the dress code, which required skirts and suits, but she managed. She never trusted John, but eventually learned to get along with him. Eventually, Elisabeth made peace with her womanhood, never knowing what made her change. In time, she bore John two daughters.

Elisabeth never set foot outdoors on Halloween again.

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Category: Fiction

Sophie Lynne

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