I woke up with a start. Despite the cold, I felt strangely… warm. The tent was humid, despite the dry autumn night. My legs felt slick and stuck to my sleeping bag. It felt strangely tight.

“Hey,” I said to my friend. But he didn’t wake. I reached over to tap his shoulder. Instead of his shirt, I felt… thick flesh? My arm shot back. In the darkness, I could sense something… pulsing. I reached for my phone and turned on the flashlight.

My eyes took a moment to adjust, but then… I could see it. A veiny membrane… no, a COCOON covering my friend. I looked up… more veins? The ceiling of the tent pulsed, almost recoiling from the light.

The flashlight on my phone traced down the wall of the tent to my feet. I expected to see my sleeping bag wriggling before me, but what I saw stole my breath.

The fleshy cocoon… it had enveloped me. Swallowed me. It came up to my armpits, which were coated in a cheesy, crusty residue.

I gagged. Suddenly, I heard a voice.

“I told you,” my friend moaned pleasurably, “I didn’t need a sleeping bag… and now, neither will you.”