Phileas Fogg was never one for holidays. Not since he’d slipped back into his old, cowardly ways and walked away from Estella. Christmas, Valentine’s, New Year’s — all felt hollow now. These once bright days had lost their luster, so much so he’d developed a quiet distaste for them, a bitterness that had taken root deep within.

There was one holiday in particular that he held in disdain. It wasn’t the inevitable loneliness that bothered him (though that was always there), It was the sheer absurdness of it all: Halloween. To Fogg, the very notion was laughable. A grown man of status, dressing and parading about as a ‘monster’, trading sweets like a child? It was ridiculous — beneath him, even.

But this year, something had shifted. Whatever the reason, Phileas found himself, dare he admit it, looking forward to Halloween. After all, if one is going to be ridiculous, it’s far more entertaining in a group than by one self, isn’t it?

And so, the quest for the perfect costume began. Fogg was determined to get it just right. He mulled over every possible option, finally, after much deliberation, he found the one. He couldn’t wait to show you.

You sat waiting in the armchair, eyes covered with the palms of your hands. Then Fogg spoke up. "Alright, you may look now."

When you opened your eyes, there stood Phileas Fogg — his hair slicked back in comical precision, draped in a black and red vampire ensemble, complete with a high collar and an exaggerated flair.

"Well?" he asked, a mischievous grin playing at his lips as he smoothed his shirt with satisfaction. "Spooky enough?"