In many ways, there's a great modern mystery that lurks throughout our cities, but only for a scant month or so every year. It's a place that seems to be there one moment and is gone again the next, returning once again a year later. Sometimes they're in the same space, other times they seem to move at random, but they always seem to inhabit old and abandoned buildings. Nobody really seems to know where they disappear to in their off season, they're simply empty and gone. Most people barely think about these places even during their season, and nobody seems to truly question their appearance and disappearance.
Perhaps it has something to do with the magic of the season. Perhaps there's something more sinister afoot. In either case, they seem to leave our collective consciousness just as fast as they arrive and disappear.
I'm talking, of course, about Halloween Stores.
To be sure, there's something weird about them. But they're not the actual subject of my story today. It is, however, closely related. There is just something about those stores that has entered the cultural zeitgeist, something that I'm not sure is original to them. In a similar respect, there is another type of store that has entered the cultural zeitgeist in much the same way. It's the shop known for its cursed items or the sacrifice made to be able to purchase exotic and occult items. Those stores that sell you items that might as well be deals with the devil himself. While Mr. King does spin a fanciful tale, I believe that he, too, is not the originator of this mythos.
Personally, I believe that what I have come to call "The Wandering Costume Shop" to be the originator of both of those myths. In fact, I fully believe that the stories I have heard are true, spoken from the lips of its very victims.
What neither of those more known myths seems to get straight, however, is what the shop actually does.
Generally, it appears at the edge of town. It's either a curiosity or basically the only option around when its victim needs it. It entices the curious with an odd and eclectic assortment of sensual and stylish wear. For others, it offers the more traditional "slutty" halloween costumes one would expect. It's almost always the only shop of its kind in the area. It's definitely the only thing open late and/or close enough for those who desperately need something for a costume party.
In either case, once a victim is lured in, they are given an "offer" they can't refuse. In exchange for an outfit that fits their desires or needs, they must give up something of themselves. For a great many of its victims, this is at least their manhood. For others, they lose something more ethereal such as their intelligence, career choices, or even something as simple as their sense of fashion. Truly, I don't believe that anyone who enters the shop can ever get out unchanged.
These claims are very difficult to track down, and most definitely impossible to prove. The only individual that ever believes something has been taken away is the victim. Every other individual in their lives, every scrap of physical or digital evidence shows them to have always been the person that they are now. One and all, it seems as though the victims were always the over-sexualized pictures of humanity that they appear to be. Further, the store is always gone before the victim has a chance to return. Disappeared as if it had never been there at all.
These are the stories of the shop's victims.
***
I was not having a good day. It's not like I usually was, but today had felt like it had gone out of its way to twist my nutsack. Bev, that shallow cheerleader cunt, had dumped me.
"Derek," She had said, "it's not you, it's me."
As if I hadn't heard that line from half a dozen women this year alone. Often it was less than a week before they were dating somebody else.
But it was different with Bev. I actually had started to feel like we had a future. I mean, sure, she was hot. Hotter than I really deserved. I mean, I'm no bad looking guy, but Bev was just a natural born knockout.
Damnit.
I thought she was someone I could have an actual connection with, maybe even open up to. Instead, I wouldn't be surprised if I found her hanging off one of the football players' arms by tomorrow.
"I'm telling you," I said to Mike, "she was the best thing to happen to me. And she dumped me. She actually broke up with me!"
Mike, the fucker, was laughing. He was a shallow piece of shit too. At least he stuck around for my money and wasn't a royal kiss ass.
"Oh yeah," He laughed. "She broke your heart. I know exactly how you feel."
"Fuck you, Mike." I snapped. "I'm going out. I can't stand to hear any more of this."
Ugh, nearly failing a business final was bad enough. It was one of the few classes mom and dad actually gave a shit about my grade in. Then I had to walk out to that shit show with Bev just waiting for me. And of course Mike wanted to just yuck it up over my misfortune.
It wasn't like I had expected any better of him, but that doesn't make it suck any less.
"Sure man, sure." He said. "Go have a drink or two and maybe you'll forget your problems."
"Yeah, as if drinking ever solved anything. Naw, I'm going to go pick up chicks at the club. If any drinking happens in that process, then so be it."
"Ha!" Mike exclaimed. "More like you'll go home with your hand tonight."
"Hey man, a player never tells." I shot back.
"That's not what your history says, my friend."
"I've dated twice as many girls this year as you have during your entire collegiate life." I told him. "So shut your mouth."
"Yeah, whatever." Mike laughed.
"Fuck you. I'm out."
And that was how I came to be here. Here being a bar. Alone. Again. Not even anything to do to pass the time really except sit here and brood.
It was a bar not too far off campus, a dive bar where most of the local college crowd hung out. It was pretty cheap, which is why it was a favorite for many of us. There was, however, an acute lack of chicks to hit on that evening.
Might have had something to do with a football game, but that was something I didn't want to think about. It would only remind me of why I was here.
The only other people here were a group of frat boys and a few other guys sitting in a corner. And one girl.
Well, I was getting tired of the bar. Maybe it was time to switch it up. I flicked through social media looking for anything to do. I would take just about anything at this point, maybe even going out of my way to mess with that little cuck goth kid Andrew again.
I'd done that a couple times. He was new to the school this year, and didn't seem to understand his place in the pecking order.
I'd taken him under my wing and showed him. There's really nothing like pulling a good prank on a little weeb like that.
I smiled as I thought back to a recent memory. It had been a pretty elaborate set up, but the end result was more than worth it. Not only did it look like he'd pissed his pants, but he might as well have. I'd gotten him with actual urine just so he stank like it. No explaining that one away as "just water". I chuckled to myself. That was a good one.
I continued scrolling.
There didn't seem to be much happening on social media tonight. The usual drama was ongoing, but nothing really exciting seemed to be happening. I guess this night was destined to be boring after all.
Maybe fucking with Andrew really was my best option. I decided to look through his socials to see if there was anything I could crash.
Bingo. It looked like he was at a party, and from the looks of things, it wasn't going very well. There was a video of him trying to talk to a group of girls and just being laughed at.
I smirked. It would be easy to step in and get a few good laughs going. This kind of party wasn't his normal scene, and it didn't look like any of his weirdo friends were there to back him up.
The idiot really was making this all too easy.
I grabbed my phone, threw down a couple bills, and walked out of the bar.
"Yo, D." One of the frat boys called. "Where ya headed, man?"
"Looks like I got a party to crash." I told him. "I'll catch you later, man."
"Oh, okay." The frat boy called. "Later."
I waved him off and continued out the door.
The party itself wasn't too far off of campus, just on the edge of town. There were even one or two run down old strip malls within walking distance of the house it was being thrown in. If I needed any kind of supplies, I could probably nab them from the dollar store located there.
It didn't take me too long to reach the party.
It was being held in one of the nicer homes that lined the streets, though it didn't look too terribly different from most of the others. It was a white two-story home that was fairly modern in design. The driveway was fairly large, and was full of cars, including the one belonging to Andrew.
I walked right up to the door and went inside. The party itself was nothing special, but quite a few people recognized me immediately. Many of them came over to chat or hand me drinks. Everyone wanted to know when the next party I would throw would be, or if I was taking my yacht out, or any other number of questions along those lines. Shallow assholes, only want to know me for my money.
Well, they can come to the next party and beg me for invitations. I won't forget who ignored me and left me alone while my girlfriend left me.
Eventually, I saw Andrew across the room. I smiled to myself. Time to needle this asshole and see what buttons I can push tonight.
Andrew was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. It looked like his geeky little heart was breaking just seeing all the hot women in the room. Well, maybe I could do him a favor and get him laid. It would be great right up until the girl I paid would start publicly complaining about his micropenis. Wouldn't even matter if the freak was actually packing a monster in those girl jeans of his. Money talks.
"Yo, Andy." I called out.
He turned towards me. I was a bit surprised to see he actually had a decent poker face.
"I don't recall inviting you here, Derek."
"You're not the host, shit stain. It's not like you have any say in what I go out and do on any given night."
"It's not a free country?" He asked sarcastically.
"I can go where I want, you little shit."
"You certainly can." He said, "That doesn't mean I have to like it, nor does it mean you have the right to bother me."
"Awwwe..." I said mockingly, "and I thought we were friends. Hell, I was even considering helping you get laid tonight."
"Thanks, but no thanks." Andrew said. "I don't need a hookup from you, especially if it's someone that you paid."
"Ooh! Look at you. Getting all high and mighty. Too good for your old pal Derek's money now?" I sneered before taking on a more serious tone. "Might as well take it, pal. Not like there's even a single girl at this party willing to take you after the piss incident."
I smiled and gave him a knowing look.
"You're still talking about that?" Andrew asked.
"Why wouldn't I? You pissed your pants, bro."
"I'm not buying it, Derek. You've done nothing but antagonize me since I moved to this town. I don't expect you to stop that of your own volition."
