Ugo paced back and forth in his kitchen, stroking his hand over his bald head. He realized he’d committed a crime only the lowest scum could. He’d abducted someone. He tilted his glass of alcohol to his mouth and swallowed it to the last drop.
There was an empty feeling at the pit of his belly, and it wasn’t his hunger.
He poured another half glass of the whiskey and strode to his bathroom mirror. With his bulbous nose, the carmine-red scare stretching across his right cheek and his bald moon-colored head, his social life was set for failure. When wearing his baggy white underwear, he looked like a giant baby who’d been scraped on the face.
Ugo turned on the faucet over his sink and cupped water in his hands and splashed it onto his face. He finished off the whiskey;the room now slightly spinning.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a flask of neon-blue potion the little old lady at the shop–who called herself a ‘necromancer’–had given him. She had said, “Once you drink one of these, it can become as addicting as coffee–you’ll always want more for that extra perk.”
He paced to his basement door and stopped, inhaling a deep breath and blowing out his anxiety before slipping on a ski-mask. As he tread down the steps, the exotic, long, black haired lady came into view, bound to the pipe, screaming through the cloth muffled around her mouth.
What have I done? I’m a monster! A damn weirdo! A captor.
He put the flask of tonic to his mouth and tossed it down like he was taking a shot of some liquor for the first time, not knowing if he’d gag. But as it washed over his tongue, he was reminded of peach juice.
As he squatted before the lady, she watched him with her wide russet eyes, her bottom lip quivering. He brushed a strand of her dark hair from her heart-shaped face, and dabbed tears from her cheeks. They were so smooth.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised.
This was beyond criminal, it was insane.
“I just need you for a little while longer. Then you can go home. Okay?”
She bobbed her head as if he was working her on strings, like a puppet.
What if something happened to her during this experiment? What if the old lady was tricking him? Maybe she was actually a witch.
Focusing strongly on the lady’s teary eyes, he rose to his feet, recalling the words the necromancer had told him to say. “I cast my body away–” He held his head down, shaking it, frowning. I sound like a nut. He lifted his chin, setting his eyes back on the lady. “–I cast my body away, and condemn my soul to your body,” he shouted.
Every thing went black as he lost all of his senses.
Ugo rose to his knees, his clothes baggy and half falling off his new–” His breath hitched as his hands flew to where breasts now protruded firmly. He yanked the mask off his head. There he sat, slumped on the wood floor in a curved body. It worked! Shape-shifting isn’t just a myth!
This was wrong, so wrong, but his adrenaline spiked.
The woman sat, sagged against the wall, her head hanging to her chest.
“Its over,” Ugo said. “You can go now.” She didn’t move. “Lady?”
He shook her. “Wake up. Placing his fingers on her neck, there was no thump of a pulse, nor was there any air leaving her mouth.
Collapsing to his bottom, his hand flew to his mouth. No, no, no! This is not what was supposed to happen.
He had been lied to and used by the necromancer. “No one was supposed to die,”he shouted to the world beyond the wooden walls, as if the old lady could hear him. “You made me kill her, you witch!”
Tucking his knees to his chest, he buried his face in his arms and wept. He was a murderer, the lowest of all scums, killing an innocent lady–and so beautiful–just so he’d be satisfied with himself. Low, low, low Ugo!
He picked his head up, wiping a tear from his cheek. The scar was no longer there, and his cheeks were smooth. He didn’t kill this lady, that bitch did; a smug witch is what she was. Smug! But why let her make him feel guilty for something she did. She was the murderer, a master manipulator. She set him up, hoping he’d feel just as awful after transmuting into his fresh body. It was switching one form of misery for another. He wouldn’t feel guilty for a crime he didn’t intend to do; something he’d never consider. That witch would not get the better of him, she would not get away with murder either. How will she pay? How?! I don’t no, but she will. Ugo crawled next to the woman and stroked her cheeks before shutting her eyelids. “I’m so sorry, so sorry,” his said, his voice breaking. “I will do your body justice. I will take care of it as you did.”
Ugo stood, caressing his feminine body: running his hands from his breast down to his thighs. Perfect!
The reality of a dead lady hit him hard, taking him out of his brief euphoria. What will he do with her body? He had never killed anyone before. How do murderers dispose of their bodies? I have to burn her. I’ll burn the entire cabin.
He held the lady’s corpse with one last gaze. “People looked at you and smiled. They wanted to talk to you; they wanted to be your friend–” He paused, his mouth open, trying to think of the right words. I needed to know what it was like to be accepted. “–I never meant to hurt you…or kill you. Ugo talked to her as if she could still hear, as if she was still breathing and alive.
He strode to the steps.His heart slowed as he rubbed his hand down his curved body once more, relieved not to see the flab, blinding him from seeing his legs. There was nothing more beautiful than a woman’s body. Life will be much easier for him now, and there was a large population gay females in Los Angeles. He only had a week to stay in the body anyhow.
He could blend in now, but at what cost? How often would he need a fix, to shift into another body? The old witch said he’d ned to change every week, but she also left out the part about his victim dying.
What had he done? What had he done?!
With his womanly body, he trotted up the steps, out the door and into his bedroom. Yanking his extra large pants and shirt off–they practically fell off his fresh lean body–his skin tingled to the though to experimenting in feminine garbs. He picked up panties on the bed and stepped into them. No problem. As he wrapped the bra around, it slipped from his grasp. He couldn’t get the damn strap to fasten to save his pitiful soul. How do women do this?
With the bra finally secured, he stuffed his legs into a pair of skinny-blue jeans, never would he have fit his fat ass in these before. Shrugging into an ivory blouse and buttoning it up, he danced in front of his mirror, swishing his hips side to side and running his hand up through his dark hair, looking radiant. Radiant! He leaned closer to the mirror, puckering his lips. Make the best of these next seven days, Ugo, you sexxxy…creature.
No more moles, no more scars, no more saggy skin!
Ugo hurried into his kitchen–his hands trembling from the fact he was about to burn the very body, the very person he had fallen in love with the past month. He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a lighter. With his throat tightening and limbs growing heavy, he shambled to the doorway of the basement. Holding the lighter to the wooden steps, he flicked the switch and an orange flame started to slowly swallow the cabin. Tears gathered in his eyes as he turned to rush out the front door.
He couldn’t be here anymore, he needed to get away. The train station.
Arriving at the station, he found a digital camera on the ground. He turned about him, seeing if someone was looking for it.
A few men gazed at him, one man winking out of his pale bearded face. What the young lady probably found to be rude, he found flattering.
He slipped coins into a machine and got his pass to board the train. Once on, he took his seat as more guys glanced his way, admiring his rounded body and silky hair.
Turning to the window, he met his reflection, and understood why men, as well as women, were staring at him. No longer did he see the man who whipped him with the metal end of a water hose when he was just a child, or the mother who blamed him for this man’s cocaine addiction and violate temper. No. He was– Ugo scratched at his nose, forgetting he didn’t have any nose hairs to pick out, not in his fresh body. –he was gorgeous. What would it take to maintain this new life-style? Abducting innocent people and scaring the shit out of them, and it would be a full time job. Was it worth it?
He scanned the digital camera with his smaller feminine hand and accidentally pressed a button, activating the flash. A couple of rows down, a young Asian man slept in a seat by himself. Ugo snapped a photo, followed by another. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly had a fascination with people. He could be any of them. He took a few more photos and set the camera on the seat.
Smiling, he acknowledged his beautiful shape. But it wasn’t him, he had only changed on the outside, inside he was still, Ugo. He would always have Ugo’s thoughts, Ugo’s soul, and Ugo’s memories: the nights his father beat him until his bones ached and yelled, “you’re a loser, Ugo. How can you do this to your mother.” And his mother wept loud till the sun rose. But that was the past. I have a new life now. Forget those memories, Ugo, forget them.
As the train sped from a black tunnel back into the bright light of a subway station, he took in the various people waiting to board the monorail. Where were they going? He could be any of them. People stood as the doors glided open. Ugo scanned the crowd, looking for his next victim. Why not use his new ability for the better good? Why not clean society of filth like his father, and help people live in less fear? He would transmute, killing murderers, rapist…Prisons are already flooded with criminals. I’ll save the tax payers money. Of course it would come at the cost of shifting into people he despised. But it won’t be permanent. It’ll be worth it.
On Ugo’s list, was the witch doctor who had tricked him into murdering the innocent young lady. He stepped off the train into a mass of people. In front of him, stood a police officer. He paced up–arching his lean back–and bumped into him. What a start to learning who the right people to target were.
“Sorry,” Ugo said with a soft smile.
The man, tanned face–tall and Roman nose–turned and returned a wider smile.
What a start to learning who the right people to target. He had a week to flatter the officer, and of that didn’t work, the man’s sacrifice would be worth it.