Hannah hummed to herself as she padded across the sidewalk, her hands stuffed in the pockets to her hoodie. It was a good night outside, nice and calm. Of course, that was to be expected given that it was nearing the middle of October.

There were even some trick-or-treaters out, a pair of college girls dressed like stereotypical witches. She laughed good-naturedly, offering them a wave.

“I really hate it when people laugh at us, don’t you think Gracie?” One of the girls said loudly, clearly intending for Hannah to overhear. “I think that she’ll be a nice part of our collection.”

“Oh yes, Helen, especially as something feline.”

Hannah opened her mouth to ask them what they meant, only for a scream to erupt from her throat. It would be the first of many from her, shattering the still of the night until silence crept across the street once more.

The Witches – Going Batty

A brown-haired man named Carson paused, looking to the carved pumpkins with interest. He’d never really had it in him to do much more than spooky faces, and yet there were people out there who could make things like… Well, like this.

It was a pumpkin carved like a cat, immaculately so. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that there was some magic to it. But of course, magic didn’t exist. The man chuckled, looking up to the house. “Wonder if I should get these guys to sculpt for my party?”

“Guys?” A voice came from behind him, the words coming out like the speaker was half-yawning. “I’d say that’s a little patriarchal, wouldn’t you Helen?”

Carson turned, finding a pair of collegiates. Both of them were dressed like witches, a redhead and a blonde. Evidently the redhead was the one who’d just spoken, because the blonde was a good deal perkier.

“Like, totally! Gracie, you’ve hit the nail on the head-as usual-and I think that he’s an eavestropper too!”

“Eavedropper, dear.” Yawned the redhead. “And I think you’re right. I chose the last one, so”

“Bat! Can we make him a bat? I want to make him a bat!” The blonde giggled.

“Um… Hi.” Carson spoke feebly, looking to the two women. “So… I take it that you’re the ones who sculpted these?” In truth, he was hoping the creators would be a little saner. But if it meant getting a party some kickass ornaments, he could deal with that.

“Yep yep!” Helen chirped. She grinned, waving her hands at the man. “But guess what? You’re gonna get carved up too!”

“Uhm.” Carson blinked, rethinking his last sentiment. Maybe he couldn’t deal with them after all. Especially with that knife Helen had pulled.

The man turned to run, but a sudden, wracking pain made him freeze in his tracks. It was like a Charlie Horse, but everywhere at the same time. His every muscle shrieked with pain, so loud that he could hear it in his ears.

It took him a moment to realize that he actually could hear screams: his own.

“Oh, hush up drama queen.” Gracie flicked her red hair behind her shoulder, shaking her head. “Honestly, turning into a pumpkin can’t be that bad.”

“GRRAGH!” Carson screamed, tears dewing at his eyes. His gut was churning as though it had been stabbed by a blade made of fire ants, and he clutched at it with both hands. He could feel his insides churning, changing. Changing…

“Puh-pumpkin? What the hell?” He gasped, large and heaving breaths forcing him to shudder. His skin burned and cracked, hardening to a dull orange. It was like being bathed in fire, and another wordless shriek tore itself from his mouth.

This couldn’t happen, it shouldn’t happen! Carson couldn’t feel anything except for pain from his skin, even as he paws at his chest. His fingers made the distinctive sound of a gourd rapping against another, and he shuddered.

Was he really…

The feeling in his stomach was nearly too much for him to bear, and he groaned at the horrid feeling of his belly distending. But it was more than that, so much more. It was like acid was swirling around in his gut, acid mixed with shards of broken glass.

His guts were being shredded by this, like meat put into a blender. Only they weren’t being liquefied, they were hardening. The slurry was becoming something thicker, and he gurgled as a splash of it surged up his throat, spilling from his lips.

Seeds and pulp wetly splatted onto the ground, and the man choked on his pumpkin vomit. It was the worst feeling of his life, the hard seeds scraping against his throat, the tangled pulp clinging to it like mucus. He couldn’t quite finish retching up the rest, and he had to pull the remainder of the mass from his throat, tugging it out until the ropy mass had fallen into a bundle on the ground.

“Huh. That’s gross.” Gracie said flatly, taking a step back from the mess.

The other witch took a step closer, delight in her eyes. “Oh, I know you carved that last one but I’m gonna carve this one so well just you wait!”

“You’re rambling. Besides, you have to wait for the changes to be done. Look, he’s just now lost his hands and feet. He’s not nearly ripe.”

Carson looked to his wrists and screamed in horror, choking on his own fear and anguish alike. He didn’t have hands anymore, true to Gracie’s words. Instead, he hair a pair of orangish nubs, the distinctive patterning of a pumpkin settling along them.

His shirt creaked and popped, the seams beginning to split as his body grew rounder and rounder still. He could move a little, however, and the man struggled to crawl from them. His shoes and socks were the first to be left behind, no foot nor ankle left to hold them. Then his pants followed, exposing his ass to the two.

Or… What passed for his ass, at least. It was a round sphere, no longer even possessing cheeks, much less a hole. Still, the girls chuckled and Helen skipped to him, rolling the man onto his back. He looked down to where they were staring and choked in distress, seeing a green stem where his cock should be.

“You do like mixing it up. Though I suppose it’s more fun than making his nose a stem.” Gracie waved, looking to Helen with a small smile.

Carson could only choke in horror, watching as his calves pulled into his thighs, then as those started to pull into his hips. As he lost his arms, he became helpless to resist as the girls pulled his shirt from his body.

He could only moan as Helen grabbed him by the stem, lifting him by it, turning his world upside-down. Everything was so dizzying; so horrifying. Worse, being repositioned like this meant that gravity was destined to take its course.

The ropy pulp that was once his guys spilled from his mouth; from his nose. Even as his face began to recede into his body, he choked on the seemingly limitless torrent. The hot mess splatted against the ground in heaping troves, until the man’s nose and mouth sealed forevermore.

Then the orange began to creep across his eyes. Carson couldn’t even scream any more, but if he could, he’d use all the air in his lungs. Everything hurt as his body shrank to a proper size, like he was being compressed in a vise, crushed by an invisible force.

Somehow he could still see; still hear things. It was like once he’d lost all of his senses, he regained them in his new body. And yet, he was still deaf and blind, he knew he was. Carson struggled to reconcile what he knew with what he experienced, only for Gracie to explain.

“You might be a little overwhelmed by things. That’s natural. See, as long as we’re nearby, you get to experience the world… You’re not going to thank us.”

Carson had enough time to reflect on her words before a sharp pain lanced through what passed for his… Front? Back? This pumpkin body was so alien to him that he couldn’t discern what was what, only that there was one part of him that currently had a knife embedded into it.

“Stabby stabby!” Helen beamed, working her knife along the center of Carson’s body.

The pain was unbearable, so much worse than being cut as a human. At least then he had a brain that could force him to numb the agony. Now, his consciousness was left unprotected, raw torture flooding his mind.

Carson silently screamed with each harsh cut. They were rough and wide slashes, the keen edge of the blade sinking into his body again and again. Every one of them left him with a raw wound, an open gash that could never clot or heal… Only dry.

This was a nightmare come true, the most horrifying thing that Carson could ever picture happening. He mentally writhed in quiet agony, no thoughts save wordless screams occupying his mind. He desperately wanted to go insane, wanted to break.

Something wouldn’t let him. It was like he had been preserved somehow, like his brain could no longer so much as process the concept of insanity. That was a chilling thought, of a life as a

Another stab into his body made him mentally wail once again, and a thick chunk of him was removed. Helen’s warm hand reached into his body, balling into a fist. He could see her smile as she tore his innards out clumsily, giggling as she roughly pulled them from his body.

This wasn’t like when he’d puked up pumpkin pulp. This was something else entirely: these bits of pumpkin had been grown within him. Every one of Helen’s pulls felt like she was tearing his nerves from his body, except at least that would have left him numb. This only left him with more insensate agony.

“You know, you put down your art a lot. But I think he’s coming out well.” Gracie looked to Carson, brows raised in slight surprise. “A bat, right?”

Carson could tell she’d gotten it right. The light that was warming his innards was in a shape distinctly reminiscent of the creature. Plus, Helen had laid out the bits she’d cut from him in such a way that he could see what she was working on.

Piece after piece of him was laid out until the perfect silhouette of a bat rested on the ground before him. Tendrils of agony coursed through his body, and he screamed, mentally begged for death. If the witches could hear him, they didn’t comment.

Instead, Helen dusted herself off, picking up the carved Carson and dropping him beside the cat pumpkin. A thrill of horror coursed through his mind as he realized that the thing might have once been a person too, and he wondered what they looked like.

Then he noticed he could no longer see what he looked like. The witches were walking away, and with their departure went his senses. All that was left behind was pain, and the raw feeling of his opened body drying.

He thought that it would last a few hours, maybe a few days. After all, they couldn’t have wanted him to exist like this… Could they?

But as time passed-days, judging from the passing of the sun’s warmth-he felt the onset of despair begin to sink in. He’d see the witches from time to time, his senses returned to let him watch another person fall prey to them.

Then they’d leave, and he’d be left alone again. Left to thoughts of another time, of freedom and comfort and safety. Left to the endless pain of his opened body. Left to the cold nights and hot days.

Left to feel his body rot. Or so he’d thought. It was at least a week, less than a month later that the girls returned-sans victim. Instead, they carried candles with them, and the two set to work lighting their creations.

“It’s exciting to see the big day, isn’t it? People are going to love our work!” Helen giggled, slipping a candle within the cat beside Carson.

Gracie nodded, placing a candle of her own within the bat-carved pumpkin’s body. “I would agree with that. Though perhaps next year we should take notes on who we’ve transformed. I can’t even remember what this girl looked like.”

It took Carson a second to realize she was talking about him, then she lit the candle and he found his mind entirely distracted. It didn’t burn as much as he’d thought it would, but that didn’t mean that it was comfortable either. It was a lot like putting his hand over a stovetop and keeping it there. He wasn’t being burned immediately-instead, it was like he was slowly being seared.

The worst sunburn of his life times infinity settled along his insides, literal heartburn giving him the worst physical discomfort he’d felt since his carving. And the girls stuck around, letting him experience the worst emotional discomfort he’d had, too.

Trick-or-treaters. There were dozens of them, the lot of people gawking openly at Carson. Some of them admired him, some of them laughed at him, and some of them even took pictures near him. They had no idea that he was a person, or that he had ever been a person.

Instead, all they saw was that he was a carved pumpkin, lit and posed near two witches on display.