Reverse Hopper, Reversed Fortunes - Part Three

I open the driver's side door, hopping out quickly as I lurch and stumble on the uneven cobblestone. I hear a voice scream in shock as I appear from behind the dumpster, the cry quickly being followed by my world spinning as I'm brought to the ground along with the utter stranger.

"S... sorry..." I croak, groaning a little as I feel my arm pressing against their shoulder while my other hand rests grazed against the stones beneath me. As I try to stand I feel my arm tug on something, the feeling of their warm skin against mine pulling painfully as though we were super glued together.

"I... oh..." the voice mutters as her words catch in her throat. Leaning back I look down as I find myself staring at a bespectacled skinny and short woman in her late teens with long black hair pulled back into a thick braid, her large and heaving bust pooling to the sides of her petite torso. 

A set of pale icy blue eyes look up at me in shock, her delicate jaw hanging open as she begins to hyperventilate.

Reverse Hopper, Reversed Fortunes - Part Two

I reach in through the window as I turn off the radio, the screeching speakers not taking the bass heavy song well at all. Sighing to myself I lean against the driver's side door, my head tilting back as I try to plan my next move.

The gears slowly churn inside my skull, the last few weeks catching up to me as I feel my body ache and exhaustion begin to grip me.

"Okay..."  I muse, reaching into my pocket as I fish out my keys. "I think I know what to do..."

I had seen the advert weeks ago, a series of them in fact, for the tourist destination of Daleshaire. The small old mountain mining town had recently, after finding a bubbling natural hot springs buried within the surrounding hills, had invested rapidly into expanding itself into a tourist hot spot.

While other may call it more of a tourist trap, the effort had certainly revitalized interest in the town as people flocked to stay at the newly built hotel and hot springs as well as the new art installations and freshly recovered hiking trails.

With the new interest in the town and the wave of visitors flooding every available bed, there was a distinct lack of people to take up the numerous jobs that had popped up to handle the influx. I had deleted the emails fairly quickly, the town being so far from my home in the city that the commute simply was not worth it.

However, with the lose of my home the offers simply seemed far more intriguing.

Reverse Hopper, Reversed Fortunes - Part One

Huffing loudly in the echo-filled parking lot I strain to force the last box into the backseat of my car. The cardboard flexes, buckling in of itself as I press my hands against it and cram it up against another equally flimsy and flexible box. Sweating slightly I give the box one more shove, stepping back quickly as I slam the door shut.

I wince as I think I here something break, either inside the door of my aging dark green sedan or the boxes stacking inside it, a depressed sigh rumbling out of me and through the underground lot as I bite at my lip.

"God damn it..." I mutter quietly, wiping my nose a little as I sniffle and fight back tears. "Stupid fucking..." I continue, pausing as I inhale deeply to try and calm myself back down.

The months without work had slowly drained me of whatever resources I had left. Too proud to ask my family for help and too focused on academia and teaching to look for a job that could at least pay the bills, I soon found myself being served with an eviction notice from my elderly landlady.

She didn't seem to take pleasure in the act, nor did she seem all to upset, the order for me to pack my things and to vacate by the end of the month merely being business.

I had largely handled the burden in silence, packing my stuff each day, my job hunt grinding to a pause as I sold off what I couldn't fit in the back of my car and packed the rest. By the end of the month I was left with not a lot, merely a wad of cash and a car full of boxes with no place to go.

My car radio blares from dashboard, the crackling speakers weakly playing the end of yet another pop song that I had used for at least a little bit of background noise in the otherwise depressingly quiet. The bubbly radio host quickly begins to chirp.

"Hell-ooooooo and welcome back everyone, that was YOUR number four. Before we go to the bronze, lucky number three, this is just a reminder to all our Reverse Hopper listeners to take your In-Guarder today if you haven't yet"

Reflected Realities - Part Two

The overwhelming compelling force pulls whatever I had become closer and closer to the broken mirror, the tiny object looking more and more like some gaping maw as the sound of rushing air and faint moans begins to each up from impossible hole.

My vision suddenly spins as I'm forced into, my own cozy apartment suddenly getting replaced with the sight of the slender and busty young woman in the ill-fitted uniform, her hands holding the young man's head to her chest.

Reflected Realities - Part One

My eyes dart between the small circle of salt on my coffee table and the tiny notepad in my hand. My lips purse, my gaze narrowing as I try to discern whether a line on the hastily scrawled page was intended to be there or if I had merely slipped when copying and tracing the image.

With my free hand I reach out, grabbing a small brand new hand mirror from the cushion beside me before placing it in the center of the carefully laid lines of salt. The center is designed perfectly, the square just barely fitting the mirror in the center like a gemstone being placed in a fragile inlay.

On baited breath I wait for a moment, my heart seizing up in my chest as I wait for something to happen. However, after what feels like the longest minute of my life nothing happens. A low sigh escapes my lips. Slowly my gaze turns back to the notepad, my free hand shifting to grab the cheap salt shaker as I begin to apply the errant line.

"It can't hurt..." I mutter, poking my tongue out as I pour the line before neatly nudging the the grains of salt to form an neat and narrow sliver that seemingly offends the symmetrical nature of the symbol on the table with a small knife.

Skin Walker - Part Four

Panting heavily, partially blinded my the curtain of hair, I'm forced to wait as the suit destroys me from the outside in. Tears fill my eyes with each loud crunch, every snap of sinew, and every low gurgling of fat as my paralyzed form slowly takes shape.

As I lay there, locked inside the skin prison, I'm forced to watch as my former body races over with a broad grin spread across it's face. My heart freezes, my blood running cold as Christine reaches down to the writhing and mewling kitten in the box.

I croak and gasp, each utterance sending my body spasming inside the tight skin-like prison. The tiny cat seems to writhe and bulge, a force inside trying to break out on the cramped confines. As each bulbous internal growth is compressed down, finally admitting defeat, a burst of black fur erupts outwards in its place.

Skin Walker - Part Three

Christie look at my reflection in the mirror, pouting as they stare at my wriggling form in the wet towel. "The fuck am I meant to do with..." they sigh, firming up their grip as I feel my bones and organs shift beneath the gargantuan force. "Do I ... like... leave..." they mutter, pouting and furrowing their brow in concentration before finally muttering.

"Oh, I know juuuuuuust the bitch who deserves this" they practically purr, the joy in their voice coming out in more of a gravelly growl. My former lips quickly shift from a pout to a smirk, slowly but surely inching into a devilish grin.

Skin Walker - Part Two

As the skin fills out more and more, bulging and constricting over and over as though to pump the fleshy innards throughout the loose suit, my former mouth opens as it croaks "Oh! My! Gawd! This is... Like soooooo fucked" as it sprouts dyed blonde hair.

I stagger backwards, my legs slipping out from under my diminished form as I soon find myself laying down and staring up at the writhing hissing figure in front of me. I watch as the chest seems to strain beneath my old top, my former skin stretching as the figure arches their back in a painful manner. Suddenly there are two loud pops, the overly inflated chest suddenly deflating as though two balloons beneath my old hairy chest had been popped.

The rest of the skin seems to fill out a little more as the mass that had been beneath the chest is shift about, the fingers and toes seeming more full while the skin still largely sags from the smaller frame inside. With the somewhat renewed fingers I watch as the figure reaches up to it's stolen face, grabbing at the sagging flesh as it tries to fight back loud sobs with each poke and prod.

Skin Walker - Part One

Laying on the couch I sit in silence, propped up on my arm as I stare down at the tiny creature stumbling and sliding about on my slick hardwood floor. The floofy ball of matted muddy hair slips and slides, the small kitten seemingly unsteady on it's own legs.

"Must be fairly young" I muse, the small dirty cat twisting to look up at me as water drips from it's filthy fur. "Aren't you buddy? Or maybe it's just the floors..." I continue, looking at the muddy paw prints that smear their way from the kitchen window to where the confused kitten struggles to stand.

Level Up - Part One

A loud and pained groan escapes my lips as I writhe on my couch, the harsh morning sun burning at my face as I strive to block it out with my hands. The previous night is a bit of a blur, bits and pieces of my friends birthday party rattling around in my heavily dehydrated skull.

"How much..." I whine, slowly inching back on the couch as I press myself against the armrest. Slowly but surely I begin to slide into a seated position, my whole body sagging as I feel my stomach churn and ache from the abuse I had put it through.

The train ride in had been fine, the plan had been so simple. Bringing a bottle of wine I had hoped for the night to be a relatively causal time amongst friends, one that would have left me feeling fine the next morning to start my usual job search.

What I didn't plan for was the host to have brought out the Everclear, making a fruity punch that turned the slow and relaxing night on it's head. By the time people started trying to fumble their way home most had passed out around the house, taking up the sofa and spare rooms before I even had a chance to stake a claim.

Feeling relatively fine I just decided to catch a cab home, not wanting to sleep on the cold floor boards despite the sickening nausea beginning to grip me.

Edible Essence - Part Seven

Barreling out into the frigid and hazy air outside I find it almost a relief, my burning hot body and strange sense of arousal dying down under the barrage of seemingly arctic gusts. Letting out a sigh I adjust my bag, quickly pacing down the small open air hallway that connects the lecture halls before spotting Fiona as she leaves the hall via the other exit.

She stumbles out in the blustering wind, struggling to hold a pile of papers to her side with one hand while the other cradles her work laptop. Both press in against the subtle and supple bulging around her hips, the added fat cushioning the items as she struggles to maintain her grip.

I can feel my heart race again, my attraction blending with newly acquired youthful form to set my whole body on a hair trigger. Biting at my lower lip I feel a slight blush spread across my cheeks, a warmth soon growing in my boy shorts as I race over.

"God damn it..." I huff in my husky feminine voice, quickly pacing over to the struggling woman now over a decade my senior. "I really am hot for teacher aren't I?" I grumble, finding Michelle's words to ring true.

Edible Essence - Part Six

As I hear the laptop finish booting up my gaze shifts between the bag and the screen, my attention focusing in on my little area around the desk as I try to work out how I can unlock this strangers computer.

Suddenly a noise rips me from my distracted state, my head whipping up as I hear a soft chuckling and the moving of a seat beside me.

"Didn't think you'd be up this early, not that I'm complaining" chuckles a cozily dressed redhead, her pierced lip curling into a smirk. My mouth hangs open as I watch her replace the chair and desk combination beside me with another, the tall and lanky redhead soon dragging over one with a mirrored desktop to my own.

Edible Essence - Part Five

"Huh?" Kelly shoots back, grabbing her own over stuffed bag from beside the parent's front door. "Say something?"

"Nope" I call back, stepping out and locking up as my my turns to the jug inside my couch. I couldn't risk anyone finding it, or even just losing it myself. With my own essence down the drain I'd need to replace it from somewhere if I wanted any chance of return to a semblance of my former self, and that container was my only hope.

"Well come on then" Kelly chimes, racing down the stairs. "If we're quick maybe we can still get a coffee before class."

Edible Essence - Part Four

I pause, my lips parting as my mind struggles to catch up while bogged down and struggling to shake the sleep off of it. Taking a deep breath, my exhalation tasting foul and state after my time in the bathroom I decide to accept Kelly's offer, driving her and heading to whatever 'classes' she's talking about.

"Sure..." I sigh in my mildly husky voice, my shoulders slumping in resignation. I was already exhausted from the insane morning, the thought of having a whole day head simply made me want to crawl into what I hoped was still my bed.

Kelly, to her credit, beams at me with a smile from ear to ear.

Mangling Malfunction - Part Three

My eyes dart about in a panic, hastily assessing the sight of the short eighteen-year-old with glasses and pimples dressed in an anime shirt and baggy jeans.

My voice crackles out in a pained croaking gasp, my new vocal cords aching and stinging as the harsh ragged breaths rush against them. Nasal squeaking slips out of me, my mind racing to assess just what the hell had happened to me.

I'm barely five-foot-three, at least according to the anti-theft measurements in the door frame of the storefront, the ratty dirty sneakers likely adding just a little bit to my height. My hair hangs down past my slender narrow shoulders, thick light brown curls drenched by the rain and coated in layers of grease and grime clinging to my neck and face in a disgusting manner.

Mangling Malfunction - Part Two

I don't have much time to really let the disjointed words sink in, my stomach sinking as the needle is soon retracted to allow my shirt to be pulled over my head.

The sound of hatches opening around me fills the room, the noise only getting worse as various saws and suction devices come to life in preparation for the forced surgery that was about to commence. A screen flickers to life on the far wall, the monitor showing water dribbling down behind the display. Lines of text flicker on the screen, an intelligible scrawl flashing up as the machine attempts to explain that it was about to give me the full body of someone else trapped somewhere inside the machine.

Mangling Malfunction - Part One

Wandering down the street, short bursts of rain spitting down in the night air, I try to pull my leather jacket over my head for some semblance of cover. Clouds blot out the stars and the moon, the faint glow emanating from the sky doing little to illuminate the footpath.

A few scant street lights help guide the way, the warm glow also catching the rain as it threatens to come down heavier by the second. It was the calm before the storm, the pitter patter of sharp cold droplets and the rumbling of thunder in the distance tell me it was a race against time to find some sort of cover.

I hadn't intended to stay out so late, just a few drinks before heading to my waiting bed. However, seeing me drinking alone the bar had been 'kind enough to ply me with cheap liquor all night. I'd normally just call a cab or Uber home, though with the extra time spent out I'd unfortunately killed the battery in my phone. My head hangs forward, my stance listing from side to side as I try to keep balance on the wet and slippery path.

Suddenly, a flash of light fills the sky only to be followed by a near immediate rumbling boom of thunder. The heavens open above me, the gentle spitting of rain rapidly devolving into an intense deluge that threatens to sweep me off my feet.

Mismatch Wish - Part Three

The bottles beside the couch rattle and roll once again, the sight of a nice bottle of Cabernet spinning out into view as I wheeze on the floor. My chest aches from falling onto it, every fiber of my being burning from exertion after all that had happened.

"Okay, you're mad, but..." comes a tiny voice from inside the lamp, the sound barely audible even inches from the brass antique.

"Honey?!" Calls a voice from somewhere in my home. My head tilts up as I blow the matted hair from my face. My blood runs cold, the sound of the approaching footsteps reinvigorating me and demanding my body to flee.

As I look up from the floor, my chest pooling out beneath me and my naked body on full display, I watch as the owner of the voice rounds the corner and my gaze falls on an Athletic and tan redhead, dressed in a leather apron and torn jeans, shaking her head as she looks down at me.

Mismatch Wish - Part Two

I'm thrown back into my seat, my whole body pinned into the cushions as wisps of purple mist begin to wrap around me.

"I'll try to make it as normal as possible" Amira explains, her visage soon disappearing from view as I find myself entombed in the reddish-purple smoke. "No monkey's paws, no sudden unexplained changes people will notice.

I open my mouth to say something, only for a thickly perfumed plume of smoke to rush in to fill the void inside.

I hear some papers rustle as Amira reads the three wishes from her collection before muttering "I suppose these ones will be fine." Her voice shakes a little with uncertainty, wavering like the flimsy sheets of paper in her hand. She begins to mutter something under her breath, the sound of her words falling away as they're soon overwhelmed by the crackling of bones.

"Let's see... I wish that I..."

Mismatch Wish - Part One

Taking a deep breath I turn to look over my living room, my gaze darting about as I search for more cleaning to do. I had been up since the wee hours of the morning, slowly working to tidy and get my living space back into working order after months of neglect.

Walls had been dusted, bedroom cups washed, and floors vacuumed. I can't help but look over the room with a satisfied grin, from the freshly dusted bookshelves to the dishes drying by the sink. Slowly turning to my old and well-loved green sofa I begin to pace over to the canvas bags sitting on the cushions.

"I think it's about time..." I mutter with a grin, pulling open the bag as the eclectic haul inside catches the afternoon sun.