They wore the costumes. Then the costumes wore them.
The Fifth Annual Hellaween Bash was supposed to be the party of the year. Judging by the hangovers, it was. Nobody remembers a single second of it.
That's the least of their problems.
By morning, they've become their costumes. The guy who came as Superman is stuck to the ceiling and can't figure out how to land. The waitress dressed as Queen Victoria will only answer to "Your Majesty," and God help whoever asks for a coffee refill. The woman dressed as a siren just wanted to turn a few heads. Now she can't check her mail without causing a five-car pileup.
And that's just the beginning.
Izzy is determined to break the curse and get everyone home safe. The trouble is, not everyone wants to be cured. Some of them are finally everything they always wanted to be.
As the group fractures, one question refuses to die:
What in the ever-living hell happened to them that night?
Because the scariest thing at that party wasn't a costume.
It was someone wearing one.
And Izzy is getting dangerously close to finding out who.
