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"'Look, I’m only paid to patrol this mall at night, not to settle turf wars going on between the damn mannequins!'" The man in white said.

I had never been so intrigued by a mall. Now, as a detective, I must see what's going on. I took my flashlight out to see the said mannequins. My eyes were met with a bunch of tall plastic figures about 5 inches taller than I.

'Well, sir- I hate to say this but- there is nothing going on. Mind showing me the security cameras?' I asked, carefree.

'Of course, it's right this way, follow me.' The man in white replied.

He lead me to the cameras, a dark room with monitors all around. I had to take a closer look, but that's when I realized that the man in white had a mask on. It looked as if he was punching and kicking the mannequins.

I turned around, to ask him something, but he was gone. I had to go find him. But that's when I felt a hit onto the back of my head. Was is a bat? Crowbar? I don't know... but, the next thing I knew is when I woke up, I saw the man, he was pacing back and forth in his mannequin outfit.

That's when it hit me, the mannequin killer. I had to get out, I hit my panic button that my agency gave me. But, the man knew I was awake now. He turned to me.

'Ah, so the pretty one is awake? Well, how was your sleep, dear?' He asked.

My mouth was taped, my hands were tied but my legs were free, I used the wall to stand up, and I kicked him into a nearby table. That's when you guys showed up. My head hurt, so perhaps I was hallucinating.. But, it felt all real, sir." I told the cop who was getting my side of the story.

They had finally caught him.. The Mannequin Killer. But now, I was laying in a hospital bed wondering, "what if I were someone else?"

>This guy's an idiot, he's gone and done it again.

>>what happened

>The fucking president's asked to summon CTHULU. like dude, does he WANT humanity to end ugh

>>dude... wtf. god knows what's happening in his skull

>There's nothing happening in his skull, he's just a full blown idiot and i can't believe i got tricked into voting for him

>>you what

>>honestly josh i thought better of you

>Look, I thought he was ok when he was running, because he promised to up the budget on science research to "save the planet"

>And he really did get my hopes up by increasing our research grants after his election

>But like it went all downhill from there

>Like sure, it was fun when we went back to the moon, when we went to mars, then in an unbelievably short period of time, we discovered intergalactic travel and found out about aliens

>Then this massive idiot just fucking tosses a nuke at them. FOR NO REASON LIKE WHY

>>yeah that

>>i dont get that either

>>remember when he made the public apology only to declare war on the aliens the next day

>YEAH i swear this guy

>I dont even know how he's still in power. like you'd think the population know by now he's just playing them

>Patriotism, Earth or bust bullshit he's just gonna kill us all

>Not to mention everyone else I know is dead...

>>hey, i miss my family too. but what can we do huh

>>we can't sit here and cry over it while that rat finds a way to kill the rest of us

>>i know a friend in the cthulhu program. i texted her and she's just replied to me

>>Forwarded from Celine 💉: LOL it's fucked the cthulhu we managed to summon was tiny, i think even my cats would beat it in a fight

>>we've got nothing to worry about... for now

>I just want to leave this place

She used to hang by the lilies in the garden.

She wasn't Anderson's first "friend". Every now and then, somebody somewhere eventually dies with an unfinished business, and gets buried in the cemetery he works at. It was unsettling to have them around at first but he got used to it as time passed. They have been there for like, forever, as long as he could remember. And to be frank, night shifts were unbearable without the occasional chit-chat.

He had met with hundreds of others. They all would move on eventually, because Anderson wasn't called "The Caretaker" for no reason, even though no one else knew. He helped them. Before they moved on, some of them just needed to haunt their buddies as pranks. Some of them wanted their families and pets taken care of. Some of them wanted to know what happens in the finale of their favorite series or in that god damned book that never seems to come out.

But Maggie seemed to be different.

She had been here for months now and never had he ever seen her go anywhere but the gardens right across her grave. She would just sit by and watch the lilies. Sometimes deep in thought, contemplating. Sometimes smiling. And sometimes crying. Anderson would drop by from time to time but it was only small talk. She never mentioned any regrets, family to take care of or any other business lingering about, causing her soul to bind to this plane of reality.

Until the night when she suddenly popped up in Anderson's office while he was having a snack. Anderson was used to his friends being cheeky little menaces; everybody would wonder what they could do and could not do as ghosts and Anderson usually became an unwilling lab rat when they were still exploring their new being.

But he had grown used to Maggie and her sulking, he didn't expect her to appear out of nowhere.

After he was able to breath, they greeted each other and after a bit of hesitation, Maggie asked.

"Could you, umm, help me with something?"

Anderson was taken aback. He had been asking the same since she got here but he never got a response except no thanks.

"Of course. What can I help you with?"

"How does this work? What happens after?"

Anderson took off his glasses and started to clean them.

"Well, usually there is something you haven't resolved yet that binds you to this world. And until it is resolved you sort of hang around."

"Do I get to keep existing if it is resolved?"

That was a hard question Anderson wasn't ready for. Did any of them? He paused for a bit. "I... don't know. But usually people find a way to..."

Maggie interrupted her. "I know what to do. He came to visit me today, for the first time, and we... well he talked. He blames himself. If I could just ensure him..." Maggie paused.

"Then you would move on."

"Move onto where?" Maggie started pacing aroud the room as Anderson didn't reply.

"Who is he?" Anderson asked.

"My boyfriend."

"Why does he blame himself?"

Maggie sighed deeply. "It was a car accident. He swerved to avoid a deer and we hit a tree. He survived, and I... you know."

"He was lucky."

Maggie started yelling. "Lucky? Everybody blamed him, cops were on his ass. Pressure got to him and he quit his job and started drinking. He's miserable."

"And instead of doing something about it, you stared at lilies and watched him be miserable for months."

Maggie frowned. "At least I get to watch him. What's the alternative? Nothing. Darkness and void."

Anderson chuckled. "I had never seen a ghost afraid of "darkness and void" before. You probably had the same doubts when you were living. You died, ended up as a ghost and you have the same doubts again?" His humor wasn't reciprocated. Maggie kept staring at him like a stonewall. Anderson wiped the smile off his face and continued.

"Listen, one day he will think of you and realize he does not blame himself any longer. And then you will move on anyway. You can save him from blaming himself until then, and yourself from watching his misery."

Maggie looked out the window as she teared up. She tried to move the curtains, but her hands went through the cloth. Anderson moved them for her. "That seems to be the logical choice. And the right choice. For him and me. Yet it's so hard to..."

Anderson put his hand on her shoulder and comforted her. She was almost instantly soothed. Anderson asked softly, almost whispering.

"It's okay. How can I help?"

They got out of the office and started walking towards her grave.

"We should be discreet about this, right?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah, unless you want him to go insane."

"Send him some lillies. Make it a mix-up, maybe like it was for one of the neighboors but it accidentally ends up at our house?"

"Consider it done."

Maggie raised one of her eyebrows. "You thought that he would go insane if it was obvious. How come you haven't?"

Anderson smiled wrly. "Comes with the job I guess." He picked up one of the lilies and handed it to Maggie. It fell out of her transparent hands, Anderson picked it up. "Why the lilies?"

"We used to grow them together, but life got in the way. We're too busy to be gardening since we got the jobs, you know? If it works, he'll take it as a sign and hopefully it won't be too obvious."

Anderson looked up at the horizon, to the rising sun. "I should be going. If it works, good luck."

Maggie teared up once again, as they shook hands and said their farewells.

The afternoon nextday Anderson came to the cemetery\ checked the garden, and then Maggie's grave. She was no where to be found, but the lilies he sent were on her grave.

Back on the ship

"He's just been standing there." Krev said, narrating what we were all seeing. After watching the last human just stand and twitch for several minutes we were getting kinda bored. "Do we just take the shot?" I asked. "At this point I kinda just want to leave, let him enjoy his madness." Then he just, died. I would say he fell over, but his body contorted in ways I know it's not supposed to, and that was a lot of blood. Well, a lot of new blood. Suddenly, a sound so deep that it was more felt than heard made it all the way up to our ship. We looked through the satellite to see the planet had cracked in half! "I'm sorry, WHAT?!" I was struck with horror as what was undoubtedly a dimensional rift simply manifested drop the core of the planet.

I wish it was merely all hell that had broke loose.

I don't know why I was so lucky, or perhaps unlucky, but I was distracted by great tentacles that ripped the planet apart. My friends looked directly at it. "I, I-I I I IIIIII HA! WHAT FE-" was the last thing I understood out of Melliki'ttr's mouth, because the deck erupted with similar shouts that instantly became indiscernible. I looked around the room and quickly noticed everyone on surveillance had gone mad. One sane crew member leaned over to check a partners terminal and joined his laughing brotheren. Was just looking enough then? I tuned to look as well, but stopped myself just in time. The planet was becoming an asteroid field, something was coming out, and there were eyes. Eyes everywhere. I didn't see them, but they saw me and I knew they were there. I stood there, no longer an officer, no longer a commander, but prey of an unknown predator. I don't know how long I was there, deaf and deafened by the screams of those who surrounded me, but I stood. What could I do? Run? What good could that do? More good than standing. That little voice in my head was the only reason I was able to climb to this rank. With nothing but the goal of running in my mind, I slowly took action. "Everyone! I'm ordering a full retreat! Anyone who can, disable all surveillance software and do not look directly into the planet!" I shouted into my communicator and ran to the flight deck. Someone activated the emergency system alert, which gave me hope that I wasn't the only sane person left. Bursting into the flight deck I grabbed the controls before immediately being thrown to a wall as the entire ship bucked. Holding my head where it struck the wall, I limped back to the pilot seat and checked the damage. Engine 4 was struck by something, but hopefully still functional. Looking up through the window I focus on finding a way out of the asteroid field that now surrounds us and punch the drive. It had been years since I personally piloted a vessel, but, well, we needed to go. Pulling up, then down we wove through the field towards safety. The hull was getting dinged and scored, but damage was superficial and we pulled out with few ships at our side. I couldn't care about the rest of the fleet, I needed to save who I could, the rest would have to care for themselves. With a clear shot out I activated the FTL system and sat through agonizing seconds passed as the system started going online. As the engines came to life, another one of those midnight tentacles reached out for a neighboring ship, and then we were gone.

It wasn't until we reached our Homeworld that I relaxed. Even without needing to operate a ship with a fraction of a functional crew it was still a stressful journey. We needed to get away from whatever had happened, whatever I did not see. Whatever my mind rebelled against the very concept of. It wasn't until weeks later, after reports, conferences, psyche evaluations and dealing with the press that I was finally authorized to take some leave. Taking a step into the night of my first day off, I felt the crisp air blow softly around me and exhaled. Did that really happen? How could it? Would a vacation really be all I needed to recover from this? As I looked up into the night sky, I noticed something off,

There was a patch of stars out there, that were replaced with void.

(2/2)

We should have known better

Maybe not that this exactly would happen but looking back it was clear something was off. Normally when we arrive at a new planet, hardly more than a show of force is necessary to force surrender and a whole planet of new slaves. Sure there are always pockets of resistance, but humanity was the first to keep fighting even after losing half their population.

Soon after we began the culling we offered terms, and reminded them that a life of servitude was better than no life at all. Their leaders and diplomats refused flat out, proclaiming something about 'the spirit of humanity' and how it could not be tamed, or some such rubbish that we have all heard a million times. It was true enough, despite their lack of technology and numbers they were ferocious on the battlefield, but that will only get you so far.

We quickly cut their numbers in half and approached them again, thinking they had learned their lesson.

They met us with a call for vengeance and said that this would not be allowed to go unpunished.

At this point, we could have just started capturing them, but that tends to cause issues of resistance down the line. So many would think that we somehow fear them, and would strike back against their masters and cause small disruptions in our supply chains. No, you have to break them. A defeated slave is an obedient slave. We would let them dash themselves on our weaponry until they learned how futile it all was.

When they were slaughtered to a mere tenth of their original population we came again and demanded their surrender.

The venom and hatred in their response was honestly impressive, I never thought I would appreciate such visceral but these apes took it to an art form.

It ultimately didn't matter though, it was decided to simply kill them all. Can't have other races thinking this is a viable strategy after all. shame really, all this death could have been avoided, all this effort could have been for a new slave force but nooooo, they just had to be stubborn to the very end. With the last of them dwindling fast, it was decided to give them one last chance. The ones still alive were the most tenacious, the most desperate to survive, and therefore the most likely to agree to our terms. It would take several generations of breeding to get a worthwhile population, but at least we would get something out of this, and that 'spirit' they had shown could make for some very hard working slaves in the long term.

We reached out one last time, and gave one last offer.

"Fuck you."

And they cut the call

Oh well we tried, time to finish the job.

But they stopped fighting. At this point, after seeing the scrapyard junk they threw together to fight us, I whole heartedly expected the last human to go down throwing rocks. Instead they just... Gave up?

"What are they doing?" Asked Melliki'ttr. "Normally I wouldn't care less, but these apes are always up to something. Let's check the imagery, worst case scenario we get free Fetnlix." I responded in a bored tone. With a satellite in geosynchronous orbit we quickly saw what they were up to. "Ok, they've drawn a circle on the ground... And... What?! Oh my stars!" Laughed krev. "That's a, what did they call it? A Pentagon? They're turning to their gods!" We all had a laugh at that. Then we continued laughing as we fed off each other's energy. After a few minutes we finally calmed down enough to have a conversation again. "I can't believe it, they're so desperate to win they're willing to dilude themselves like that! They- waiiiit, guys come see this!" They were really committed to the bit! Hooded robes, chanting in an old language, scattered bones, but all of that was second to them self terminating! All but one who was, 'assisting' the rest in self termination. "Well, at least they did our job for us!" Melliki'ttr quipped.

On Earth

"For thousands of years I lay dormant, who has disturbed my-

"Hey, Cthulhu!"

"Oh it's you. Explain idiot!"

"Well this is kinda a weird ask..."

"Look, I've granted plenty of boons over the millennia, whatever it is I'll forget it by the end of the week."

"That's the thing though, I'm not looking for a boon, I just wanna wake and release you."

"...What?"

"I-

"No I heard you, but what!? You do realize that I'm gonna end your reality, right!?"

"Yeah"

"Everything, not just the earth."

"Uh-huh"

"Forever, with no escape."

"That's the idea."

"That includes you. A literal eternity of madness and suffering. I don't care about your devotion, you don't want that."

"I know, still doing it though."

"Dude are you ok?"

"Well" Tyler said, looking up at a sky with too many stars, "it's not for me."

(1/2)

I love the fantasy spin

Your welcome

Wow! Very nicely done! I didn't expect the dark turn this story took when I started reading it, but the horror was laced throughout it. The conversation is very realistic, well-written and believable. I can sense Jessica's anger and frustration, almost palpably. And, the ending! *chef's kiss* Thank you for writing this!

"Protea spontanea," the halfling doctor said confidently.

I sat silently. Confused.

"It's a rare disorder. Very rare. In fact, you are the first recorded person to have this condition. I just coined the name, so if you think it's a stupid name, let me know." Dr. Bullfreckle looked down at his clipboard and said slowly and quietly, "Proh-TEE-yuh spon-TAIN-ee-yuh," feeling each syllable dance across his lips and tongue.

"But how? Is this some curse? I've been going through this for two years!"

"Disorder. I ran you through all the tests and the cause of your disorder is your own body. No witch can hide a hex from a class-98 detect energy ritual cast by yours truly."

"What about a class-100? Like we talked about?"

"A 98 is 98% as effective and at a quarter of the cost. I'm not burning diamonds for this." He looked down at his clipboard again and sighed. "Onto the other news, I ran a genetics test. A simple class-20 just to get an idea if we need to run a more invasive test." He looked at me and paused.

"Oswald... you're a changeling."

I sat, stunned. I peered into the halfling's face to perhaps catch a glimpse of amusement, like what would spread across his if he was about to say "Gotcha!" But no. No amusement. Not even a slight smirk. His face was a rock and my spirit crashed against it like an ocean wave, dashed into a thousand tiny droplets. I was a changeling. The most distrusted. The lowest of the low.

"But my parents were both human! I'm a human!"

But I wasn't. As of that morning, I was seven foot tall charcoal-skinned infernal with glowing amber eyes and horns like a ram. I had a devil's tail, which flicked about almost as if it had a mind of its own. My tongue felt long and slender in my mouth, and when it wasn't used for talking it ran across my sharp teeth, exploring what felt like another person's mouth. Even as I sat there, I could feel my bones slowly shift, preparing for my nightly metamorphosis.

"I knew this would be difficult to explain. But yes, you are a changeling, but your powers were somehow delayed by twenty-eight years. Some changelings have their power from birth, some develop them as toddlers, but you... this delay is unheard of. Thus, protea spontanea. It's more of a learning disorder than anything else."

"A learning disorder?"

"I mean, shapeshifting is usually wild in a changeling's early years. Actually controlling it might take five to ten years of training, but in your case we don't know... It may take longer."

"And my parents? Are they changelings and just decided to never tell me? Am I adopted?"

"Don't ask me. That's a conversation between you and your parents." He flicked a brochure towards me. "Take this." The red brochure had a picture of a human-looking child with an abnormally broad smile. It was titled, "THE CHANGELING'S GUIDE TO BEING A NORMAL KID", which was designed to look like it was drawn on with a crayon.

"We usually give that to children."

--

The brochure was crumpled into a ball and thrown into a trash can somewhere between the doctor's office and my apartment. I walked down the city sidewalk swiftly, frustrated by the truth and the questions that remained unanswered. The afternoon sun beat on my dark skin and my infernal eyes burned in its radiance. Pedestrians looked at me, mere glimpses, and then avoided eye contact. Infernals were not common in this neighborhood, so my appearance probably brought some displeasure.

My first unwilling transformation two years ago was an elderly human lady, and I was mortified by what happened to my body. The wrinkles, the sags, and the obvious change between my legs. I called out sick at work, wrapped myself in a blanket and waited in bed, hoping for that nightmare to end. The next day I was olive-skinned hunk of a man with dark wavy hair and a chiseled face. The next, a twenty-something woman with sad eyes and long dark hair. In a couple weeks, I started to take on the qualities of humanoid species besides humans, so one day I could be a short human lady with curly red hair and the next be an orc with tusks that were so tall they took permanent real estate in my field of view.

Of course, I lost my job. There was no way I would be able to convince anybody that I, the silver-haired dwarf lady, was Oswald. Friendships broke down. I either stopped talking to people or they realized my condition was just too much for them to handle. To get by financially, I began taking odd jobs. On days where I had muscles to spare, I would help move furniture or load wagons. On days where I was small and easy to miss, I stole valuables from nobles and sold them to the local fence. On days where I had looks, I'd woo people out of their coins. On days where I didn't have any of those things, I sat in my cheap apartment and moped.

After two years of that, I was uncertain if I could continue eking out a living doing this. I lived a lonely life and had many dangerous close calls from biting off more than I could chew with odd jobs. I had not talked to my parents in four years at that point, and with good reason... they were narcissistic and controlling, the definition of strict. But if I wanted answers, and maybe some financial assistance, maybe they could help me. I was out of options. I had to message them, and that is what I was going to do. Just a minute's walk to the apartment, then I could write a letter.

"Heeeey," said a voice. I stopped in my tracks and turned my head to the dark alleyway it came from. "What's the hurry?" The voice fluttered between a masculine and feminine tone, like two people speaking at once through a single mouth. It was unsettling... yet alluring.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," the voice lightly chuckled. "Want to go back to that drab apartment?"

"Not really..." My whole body turned to face the monumental void of darkness that engulfed the alleyway.

"Why don't you come with me, then? I can teach you what a brochure can't."

I paused. How did they know about the brochure? "How long have you been following me?"

"Long enough to know your tragic story," the speaker said in a jokingly pouty tone. "Poor thing. A changeling, oh poor baby! Protein-ea spork-tanea!"

"That was a private medical consultation about a private medical matter! Who gave you the right to eavesdrop?"

"Oh, I didn't eavesdrop. I just know what you are thinking. Mind-reading is a good skill for a changeling to have... Let's you know what the people want. And I know what you want, my sweet Ozzy..."

They were probing my mind. They knew what I wanted. Again, unsettling... but alluring. I slowly opened my mouth and prepared to utter a single word. Everything that I wanted.

"Control," we said simultaneously, our voices overlapping into a chorus of tones.

"Yeeeeess. I can give you that control. I taught myself... and I can teach you. Once you gain control over your body, the power can be..."

Two yellow orbs flashed in the dark, side by side, and underneath a mouthful of sharp teeth reflected the dim light of the alleyway.

"INTOXICATING..." the sharp teeth spat out the word suggestively. Eyelids draped halfway over the yellow orbs to give an enchanting glare.

I shuddered pondering just who was waiting in the darkness.

"Don't write to your parents, Ozzie. You don't want them, you want control."

I nodded silently. I began stepping forward. Out of the sunlight and past the threshold between light and dark. Bathed in darkness, the eyes and teeth of the creature came closer and closer as I walked towards them. They moved forward to meet me until the two eyes dominated my view. The small black pupils danced across my face and the wide smile of the creature grew wider. I could smell their sweet breath, like citrus fruit and flower petals. A large, slender hand landed on left shoulder. The other hand gently combed my hair until it gently, yet firmly grabbed a hold of my right horn.

"Another changeling..." they whispered, bathing me in their sweet breath. "I've waited so long..." Their pupils stopped their dance and settled on my eyes. "You have a question. Ask me."

"What's your name? What do I call you?"

"Oh, Ozzie," they whispered. Their grin grew into a wicked smile, flashing more and more of their razor-sharp teeth. "You can call me anything you want..."

Great work.

He's a humanoid duck. Both of these are already out there in the world

Amalgam - Part 3 of 3

Alex found an old abandoned warehouse at the edge of town. No sound of water here, only dust and mold and spiders. It would do.

"I'm not so different from a cult," Alex said idly, "I prayed on a desperate young man and convinced him to forsake his life and all those he knew."

"But I'll be able to change like you do, right?"

"I suppose that's the difference between a more regular cult. I deliver on my promise," she held a tiny pill. It was pink pulsed with a heart of its own. She didn't wait for him to take it. In this deserted place, before a woman who could bend steel, he was little more than clay to shape. She opened his mouth with one hand and put the pill down his throat with the other.

She rummaged through the place as he began to sweat and tremble. Rusted engines, cardboard. An old bathtub, that could be practical. He was writhing, foam formed at the corners of his mouth, he tried to call for help but had no air left in his lungs to do so.

"I'm out shopping," she said, "see you in a bit."

She left as he coughed, trembled and chocked, lost in the abandoned warehouse.

"Who are you?" she asked days later.

"I don't know," he was terrified and emaciated. Drugs and cold had brought him a step away from death. Who he had been was mostly lost in a haze, he still clung to the last shreds of his personality.

Alex took her clothes off. She stood before him naked, and cracked her neck. Her head hung at an impossible angle. The young man started to chuckle at the absurdity of his existence.

Her skin became porous. Fluids left her, from the eyes, the ears, the mouth, every superfluous matter was shed. What remained put its head back on its neck with a resounding crunch.

It had no sexual features. It was like one of these mannequins in clothing shop, with no wrinkles, no particularities, nothing.

"I haven't gone without masks in a long time," said Amalgam to his new pupil who was in the throes of hysterical laughter, "what should I be next? Man? Woman? Elder or child? Let chance decide that. As for you... Can you feel the blood rushing in your fingers?"

The young man, still laughing, looked down at his hands.

Pop, pop, pop, went the joints. They became thinner, longer, as the young man had always wanted.

In this moment, the last of his old self died.

"Welcome to the House of Change," said Amalgam.

Really great writing. Looking forward to the next part

Or Prince. So, potentially the same entity now that I think about it...

A good, short scene. Seems like there's a lot that this could be fleshed out into. Still, well-written and concise.

Titans fought overhead. Larger than life, stronger than mere mortals - they fought. Crashing into buildings. Punches sending their opponents barrelling through the street - into massive craters.

People ran in all directions - including me. You can’t run far enough fast enough to get away from a fight like this. They are just everywhere.

I ran to the park. At least I won’t get crushed by a building. I should be able to see them coming.

They tumbled into the park. A trail of destruction behind them. Red Justice had the upper hand. He was beating Dr. Mechano bloody with his fists. His hands were moving faster than I could even see.

It was over. Dr. Mechano was dead. His head crush flat by the beating. Red Justice fell over, exhausted.

“Hey kid! Kid! Come over here,” he panted. He leaned up against a tree trunk.

I walked over cautiously.

“I am done. I might have won but I am dying. Just too much damage. Take off my helmet, would you?”

I knelt beside him. His helmet covered his head and face. I couldn’t see a way to take it off.

“There is a button. On the left side…,” he said weakly.

I pushed the button and face mask opened up. I eased his helmet off as carefully as I could.

As soon as it was off he began to shrink. His massive muscles deflated. His shoulders got narrower. He transformed from a hulking adult to a wiry teenager - like me.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “Take the helmet. Red Justice can’t die as long as someone is willing to put the helmet on.”

I looked at the helmet and then back to him.

“It will make you strong. You will be able to fly. And fast - so fast. You will be a super hero. But you can be defeated. You can die. cough but it is worth it. When your time comes - pass the helmet ooooon….”

His eyes closed. He looked like he was sleeping, slumped against the tree trunk.

I stood up and put on the helmet. I closed the face mask - it sealed with a loud click. I grew taller and wider. My muscles stretched and grew. My clothes transformed into Red Justice’s suit.

I am Red Justice!

Nicely written! I like how intimate the scene is, how much emotion you poured into this conversation between two people who truly care for each other, despite a devastating secret being revealed.

Every day the working man gets worked a little harder

Today, it is a bad day.

I woke up too early, I am tired and now I am following the big crowd that is converging in the main square in this dreary day. In contrast with the bad weather, I can hear the sound of the trumpets and drums of the royal guard echoing through the streets. The royal palace and its central square, the opulent structure that towers over all the others buildings in the capital, is now open for the sacred selection ceremony that will determine the new chosen hero.

Everyone in the city is obliged to participate to the trial to determine the godsend warrior that will drive out the demons from the kingdom. As we do not know the choice of the gods, even the lowliest thug may be a powerful knight that in the future will save the city from the darkness. Nonetheless, all the heroes chosen in the past were nobles or rich, so the citizens of the low city like me consider this ceremony as a dumb way to choose someone that is good looking enough to be certified as a hero and act as a beacon of hope for the people.

I am sorry for the man or woman that will be chosen, because being a hero means fighting the worst enemies of the humanity without the guarantee to return alive.

I look blankly to the magic brazier in which the suitors will put their hand to be judged by the gods. I really hope that the selection will be short and the hero be revealed before my turn: I admit that putting your hand in the fire, even if it is a magical one, may be stressful, and I would like to avoid it. Moreover, I must return to my family’s shop before noon.

The symphony of the royal guard stop, and we all see the royal councillor start talking about the importance of duty, heroism and the importance of sacrificing our lives for the kingdom when needed, as if he is really determined to do it himself.

“My fellow citizen, we must resist the invasion of these foul creatures. As such, the royal family has decided to choose the new champion in our city. The gods must have already sent us the chivalrous warrior that will save us: may the gods bless us in our search.”

I wait for my turn. It is frivolous to think that a merchant’s son like me have the right to set foot on the sacred ground of the palace, but at least I am in good company. Old, young, rich and poor: the people start putting, one after another, their right hand in the fire of the magical brazier without being burned. No reaction whatsoever from the flame: the hero has not been revealed.

It is my turn. I take courage: the flame is almost stroking my hand, and the red, bright colour turned blue.

The others suitors watch me in disbelief. I do not understand what is happening. The royal guards and the councillor stand beside me. What have I done? Have I broken the brazier?

“The gods have chosen! We have a new hero!”

“What?!?”

One of the guards take my arm and raise it to the sky, almost lifting me in the process.

I knew it.

Today, it is a bad day.

How brutal.

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Amalgam - Part 2 of 3

"Young man?"

Poor kid was desperate, obviously. It didn't take much coaxing from Brad to invite him into a bar to take a coffee and talk it out. Brad instinctively knew which seats to pick for discretion, he always had some coins on him for cases like this. Experience from previous lives, so to speak.

The young man gave his name. Brad promptly forgot about it, it wouldn't matter.

"My parents sent me to a psychiatrist to get these ideas out of my mind. It had the opposite effect. I asked for hormonal therapy to start transitioning, they refused. They used to see it as child's play, me cross-dressing and so on. But since my rendezvous with the therapist, they are cracking down on anything that doesn't suit them. They screamed me out of the house because of this," the blue of his nails was tasteful.

He had yet to drink from his steaming cup of coffee.

"I was a woman once," said Brad.

"Really?"

"Yesterday."

"Oh," there was crushing defeat in his voice.

"You walk on the high wall often?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I want you to think of something," Brad laid both hands on the table, palms open, "imagine a deal with the devil. The devil will give you the key to unlock your flesh. You could be anyone, at any age, no limits but your own imagination. But it is a deal with the devil," Brad clenched his fists, "what you will give in exchange is yourself, the man I see before me. Once you'll gain this ability, you will no longer be this man, you will no longer care about turning into a woman. The man I see will be dead. The devil sits at a crossroad before you, would you take his hand and sign the contract?"

Brad left. He didn't even pay the bill.

A supermarket was forced open in the night, the thief left with heroic amounts of food.

In the forest, Brad devoured. Deep frozen dishes, flour, salt, sugar, soda, vegetables, grass, tree bark, the skin on his hand. No pain, ever, he knew the path of pain and had declared upon his body that the information would therefore be transmitted in a polite manner, free from any ache or burn.

His heart pumped faster, heavier, blood coursed through through him, reshaping arteries and capillaries. Matter was decomposed and transported away, sweat carried the useless bits out.

A stinky, dirty woman emerged.

Alex. She was young, she was olive-skinned, she had a feral grin and fire in her eyes.

She sat on the bench the next day. Well dressed, she had found a tourist with the right size and put her to sleep for a quick change of clothes.

"Young man," she hailed when he passed her by, "did you consider the deal with the devil?"

He was taken aback. Nobody listened in yesterday, the bar was almost empty. Brad didn't tell her, they had nothing in common. How...

Alex's grin crystalized, she grit her teeth so hard the muscles of her jaw bulged. And the young man saw a wonder. He saw the tension going down the sides of her throat, taking a hold of her shoulders, her biceps. And through the clothes, he saw how they grew, how the thin women became immensely powerful and large. And he knew change.

When she opened her hand, he took it.

I am still working on these! I just write kinda slowly.

Very well done! I thoroughly enjoyed reading this piece. Well thought-out, intriguing and revealing just enough to keep me very interested as the story unfolded.