Think Twice Before Joke a Witch

Chapter 1

As soon as I walk into the living room, the Halloween party is already in full swing. Loud music, hearty laughter, and everyone everyone is wearing elaborate costumes. I glance around, just now realizing the theme of the night. The hostess approaches me with a smile, gives me a pitying look, and hands me a pair of glasses and a cushion from the couch. “You’ll need a costume!” she says, laughing. Fantastic.

I sit down on the couch, feeling ridiculous. Yep, just what I needed: I’m being offered a cushion as a cape and glasses to look... like who? An idiot? A NERD?!

Ariana, the party host, watches me from the center of the room. Her eyes linger on me for just a moment before returning to her friends. She doesn’t say anything, but her gaze speaks volumes: a mix of judgment and annoyance. They continue to chat and laugh, completely ignoring me.

I try not to care, but I can feel the weight of her stare on me, even though she looks away. A part of me wants to leave immediately, but I stay. The night is already a total bore.

As I pretend not to care about the situation, Ariana leans in toward one of her friends, still looking at me. Her whisper is barely audible over the music:
“Who shows up to a costume party without a costume? Embarrassing...”
Her friends giggle. They’re all part of the same little show, but Ariana is different. There’s something about her I can’t decipher, something that both unnerves and intrigues me at the same time.

After enduring enough, I get up and head upstairs. I just want to find a little quiet, to be alone, away from everyone. I lock myself in a room and flop down into an armchair. The buzz of the party fades behind the closed door. Finally, peace.

More than an hour passes. Downstairs, the party continues as if nothing has happened. Ariana and her friends are still having fun, chatting with anyone who approaches. The music never stops, and the punch keeps circulating among the guests. The living room is full of people dancing, laughing, jostling each other, and enjoying the night.

No one has noticed my absence. Or at least, that’s what I think.

Suddenly, someone knocks on the door. Before I can respond, the door swings open, and two people enter without even looking around. It’s a couple, a guy and a girl, clearly looking for a little privacy. They see me but don’t pay me any mind. They head over to the bed and start kissing, as if I’m invisible.

What a night... just a bunch of useless people.

I spring up, wanting to get out of there. I leave the room and head down the stairs, making my way toward the exit. But in the chaos of the party, I bump into someone. I look up and see Ariana right in front of me. Her eyes meet mine for a moment. I don’t say anything; I don’t even apologize.

As I head down the stairs, I don’t have time to watch where I’m stepping before I bump into Ariana, who’s busy chatting with her friends. She turns to me, her face clearly showing annoyance.

“Hey, watch it! Look where you’re going!” she exclaims, her dark eyes shining with irritation.

I can’t help but think: Shut up, you mean witch; you’re dressed like that just to get the attention of one of these losers. But my response gets stuck in my throat, and I walk away, heading out to the backyard.

Ariana is taken aback by my sudden reaction. She and her friends stare at me, incredulous. It doesn’t take long for her to step forward, anger glinting in her eyes.

“How dare you talk to me like that? Just because I’m dressed as a witch doesn’t mean I’m trying to ‘hook up’ with someone here!”

Her witch costume is stunning, but a bit revealing, accentuating her curves and cleavage. I can’t deny that she’s attractive, but my frustration pushes that thought aside.

“It’s not my fault the hostess gave me these ridiculous clothes! I didn’t even know it was a costume party,” I snap, trying to justify myself.

I feel like a total nerd, even though I’m tall and muscular, with dark eyes and hair, and an athletic build. However, my confidence is quickly dwindling, especially under her judging gaze.

“You’re so pathetic for showing up to a themed party without a costume... it’s no surprise,” she replies with a sarcastic smile as her friends laugh along.

Ariana seems to enjoy imagining what I would look like if she had the power to transform me. My muscular figure contrasts sharply with my complete inability to interact with people.

“Well, at least I didn’t dress like a slut,” I chuckle awkwardly, but she doesn’t seem impressed at all.

Ariana’s face flushes, anger igniting her cheeks. Her friends continue to laugh while she tries to keep her composure.

“You really know how to offend a girl, huh? You’re just a loser who doesn’t even have the sense to buy a decent costume,” she shoots back, her eyes sparkling with challenge.

The tension in the air becomes palpable. At that moment, I can feel her magic starting to stir. Ariana closes her eyes, aware of the power she holds. With a graceful motion, she intertwines her fingers around her magic wand as her mind focuses on me.

I can imagine the worst kind of look for you, she thinks. And so, with the wand raised, she recites a spell in an ancient, melodic language.

“Alteratus corpus, muta et distorque, te facio pudicum, ridiculum et adiposum!”

The words echo in the air, and a shiver runs through me as a strange sensation invades my body. My height begins to shrink, the muscles that were once tight and defined start to sag, while a thin layer of fat accumulates around my abdomen and face. I feel powerless, unable to react to this transformation.

Ariana opens her eyes, and a triumphant smile lights up her face. The witch is not just a charming figure but also a force to be reckoned with. Her power is palpable, and I have become the object of her game.