For a partner, Halloween is a licence to be dramatic: a candlelit letter, a haunted house you would walk into together, a ghost promising to haunt them forever. Say the thing you would not say on an ordinary Tuesday.
For a friend, lean on shared history — the costumes, the parties, the horror film nobody finished. Teasing works, as long as the last line is sincere.
Think about how they watch a horror film. Through their fingers? Choose something cute — ghosts that want a hug, pumpkins that smile. First to suggest the haunted house? Choose something atmospheric. Nobody needs gore to feel the season.
A pumpkin-shaped mug is a nice thing. A page of your photographs together, captioned with what you remember about each, is a thing nobody else could have given them. If you have only ten minutes, spend them on the words, not the decorations.
Nothing ships, so the only deadline is when you hit send. You can build it on the evening itself, or finish it early and send it when it should arrive.
Use more photographs than you think — the blurry ones from a dark room are often the best. Caption the ones with a story behind them. Keep the message specific: one real memory lands harder than a paragraph of adjectives. And if you can record your voice, say their name out loud.