Post-Lamy Morning Procedures: The (in)Complete Edition

Post-Morning Lamy Procedures

The (in)Complete Edition
Part 1

That morning, I woke up feeling off.

I'd normally wake up that way after having an odd dream or having a really sleepless night. But I recall sleeping really well, so well in fact that I didn't even remember my dreams.

I lifted myself out of bed.

Okay, something was definitely wrong. On the way up I nearly toppled over. Maybe my arms were sore, I had a hard day at work yesterday. But they didn't hurt, and it felt more like my center of mass was off rather than my arms being weak.

Something fell from my head onto the bed.

I rubbed my eyes. That was some odd white cap. For sure I did not fall asleep last night wearing that, maybe it was my roommate trying to play a prank on me.

As I cleared my eyes of the crust that had built up in them overnight, something soft brushed up against my face. I immediately pulled my arm away, but my hazy mind still took a good ten seconds to recognize what it was.

Each of my arms was clad in a massive sleeve. They were light blue and decorated with prints of snowflakes, folding over at the ends to show white, puffy insides.

It was a coat, and a damn nice one at that.

Okay... this looked expensive, and I was sure my roommate didn't have this much money to spare on designer clothes, much less one for a prank. But the coat was actually pretty warm, so I decided to play along.

His problem if he wanted it back.

Stepping into the bathroom, I flicked on the light. Morning procedures, morning procedures... it's been a few days since I shaved, have I? Clicking the plastic cover off my razor, I went to grab my shaving gel.

But the moment I shifted my eyes to look at the mirror, I immediately flung the razor away and threw myself back, all while yelling a ridiculously girly scream.

The person who was staring back at me... wasn't me.

I had almost gone to my reflexes and expected there to be someone behind me. But that wouldn't explain the lack of me in the mirror at all.

Sitting on the cold bathroom ground, I looked around. There was nobody else in here.

I shakily stood to my feet and gave a quick glance, again.

The bluenette in the mirror, likewise, peered from over the bathroom countertop.

I darted back down.

What the hell...? This is some dream, I must be dreaming. There's no way...

But if I was dreaming, then there wasn't anything for me to be scared of, right?

I slowly lifted myself off the floor again, finally seeing my full 'self' in the mirror.

The yellow eyes stuck out to me first. The amber surrounded a pair of almost pinpoint pupils. Following that was the hair, which was an ocean-blue in color. It flowed down the length of my back. Poking from the sides of my head, out of my hair, were two long, pointed ears.

An elf... I was some elf.

And not just an elf, a female elf. With a notable chest.

No wonder my center of balance felt off when I tried getting out of bed.

Not only was my overall appearance completely different, but so were my clothes. Gone were the casual shirt and shorts I normally wore to bed; they were replaced by some unusually extravagant outfit, complete with a white shirt covered in a black corset, a frilled skirt that didn't even reach halfway down my thigh, and two white stockings that ended above my knee.

Included were some boots (I was wearing shoes while sleeping?) and the jacket I distinctly remember seeing on my arms when I first woke up.

It also explained that that cap that fell off my head when I first got out of bed.

"Hello...?"

My voice... the once-deep voice that I was so proud of, gone. It was now much higher pitched, yet it had a quiet, cool tone to it.

Through all my apprehension and confusion, there was one thing I certainly had to admit: The elf girl in the mirror was hot.

I quickly pushed those thoughts out. This was far too vivid to be a dream. But it had to be one, there's no way...

I slammed my forehead against the mirror.

All I accomplished was shattering the mirror while leaving a bloody bruise on my forehead.

This... wasn't going to get me anywhere.

I gingerly stepped over the broken glass out of the bathroom, while rubbing the self-inflicted bruise on my head.

There was no way I was going outside in this outfit, I looked like some anime character. But I wasn't sure my other clothes would even fit; they were made for a guy who was 5'11 and worked out in the sun.

Me... no, this body I was in, was much shorter. If I had to guess... at least around five feet, but less than 5'5.

And then there was the matter of work, I'd need to call in saying that I can't make it today... oh my god, what was I supposed to do?

A thought came to mind. I looked like an anime character... does that mean that had anything to do with the predicament I was in?

The thought loathed me, but there was only one way to find out. What else was I supposed to do?

Picking up my phone, I realized that the fingerprint authentication didn't even work anymore. I quickly tapped in my password. Yet another problem that I quickly recognized; if I didn't have my original fingerprints, I literally can't prove that I'm myself.

I have a friend who's into weeb shit. I was one tap away from straight-up calling him, but I stopped myself before I could press the button.

I couldn't speak to him like this. No, I'd have to text him instead.

It took me a good five minutes to figure out how to start this conversation. How would I even begin? Someone who didn't watch anime, suddenly texting his anime-loving friend about some (probably obscure) anime character? That would raise some eyebrows.

Right, I need to pretend that I saw the character someplace and she seemed familiar, without making myself seem too interested. I began tapping away and soon got a response.

Shit, he's asking for a photo. I'll make up an excuse that I wasn't quick enough to snap an image.

Pale skin, yellow eyes, elf ears, and most importantly, light-blue hair that went down to the neck. I also had to give him a general description of the... clothing, too, since I was assuming whoever I was also... wore this.

I waited for five anxious minutes as he texted back "give me a moment". My breath quickened in anticipation as I saw the three dots pop up above the chatbox, indicating that he was typing something.

It was a link to a wikia. Yukihana Lamy, Virtual Youtuber.

Aside from the obvious differences, such as the fact that I currently didn't have massive anime eyes, it was a near-exact resemblance. From the ears to the hair, even to the eyes and clothes. I could probably pass as a really, really good cosplayer.

Except I wasn't one. I was a guy, damnit.

That was the moment it hit me hard. This wasn't a dream... or if it was, it was a coma dream, because I couldn't get out. Either way, I knew my life was irreversibly changed, and not for the better.

My mind immediately went to all of the issues I'd be having the moment I step into society again. Every single one of my IDs was now invalid. I couldn't prove that I was myself anymore, which means I also can't access any of my bank accounts. Showing up to work was completely out of the picture, and I was lucky that my roommate was either still asleep or had already left the building.

I had a few hundred dollars on hand. My passport and driver's license were useless... well, I could probably get away with the license as long as I don't get pulled over. Credit and debit cards... I need to max those out. I need to find a safe place out of town to stay until this... transformation reverses.

But where the hell was I supposed to go from here? Who should I even trust?

Part 2

Maybe it was just me being weird, but I didn't go into shock or curl into a fetal position the moment I realized I was now in a completely unfamiliar body of the opposite sex.

More specifically, the body of a non-human fictional character known as 'Yukihana Lamy'.

Instead of pondering over that in particular, my mind started to go over the plethora of problems I now had to deal with.

First off, my clothes.

I was definitely not wearing this cosplay-looking piece out in public. It'd gather way too much attention.

Unfortunately, the clothes I already own were far too large to fit me. That was expected, as I had shrunk by at least 8 inches.

I finally decided on a compromise. The clothes that I wore under the fancy blue jacket were to stay on. To conceal them, I decided to wear an old coat over them, a small one that I didn't bother to throw out.

Even then, the old coat was still a little oversized for me.

Pants were a different issue entirely. Not one of them fit me and trying to use a belt to get one on my now-thin waistline resulted in something very difficult to walk in.

I'll have to do with the ridiculously short skirt, for now, that was until I got my hands on pants that actually fit.

Also had to check to confirm that my dick was missing. And it certainly was.

This was quite the predicament.

Then there was the problem regarding my... elf ears. They were, without a doubt, noticeable and stuck a good inch or three out the sides of my head.

A baseball cap couldn't cover them. I did not have any knit caps either, which would've been useful in covering the pointy ears.

Wait, no. I was an utter brainlet.

My coat came with a hood. I swiftly flipped it over my head, and sure enough, it was sufficient in covering my head.

Now that the clothing problem was somewhat solved, next came the second-biggest but not-yet-immediate dilemma.

I need to cut all ties and leave this city for the next one over. It won't be permanent, only for as long as this... bodily transformation keeps itself up.

With that came a variety of other worries such as where I'd get the money for what was basically an extended involuntary vacation. But I'd jump those hurdles once I got there.

Now, I needed to get my hands on legal tender and fill my car with gasoline.

My room opened right up into the apartment's kitchen. It was convenient and allowed me to grab snacks when I got hungry in the middle of the night. I didn't expect anyone to actually be in the room when I opened the door.

Which was... a fatal flaw, seeing as my roommate was in the kitchen at this very moment.

"Who the fuck?" he asked.

This was not looking good.

"Uh--"

"Unknown girl, strutting out of Anon's room like she knows the place. Wearing his old coat, I recognize that. He used to wear it everywhere. And I don't remember Anon telling me anything about a girl. That can only mean..."

The accusatory statements built up quicker than I could respond.

"No, no. It's just--"

"You're Anon's girlfriend, are you?" he asked.

"No -- kinda, yes?"

Who the fuck asked that kinda question upon meeting some random girl coming out of roommate's room? It caught me completely off guard, but once I realized what he actually asked I decided to play along.

"Haha! Never knew the virgin had it in him! Guessing he picked you up at the bar he went to last night?"

That was partially true, I did go out to the bar last night. But I only had two drinks before deciding to walk home. And I certainly did not pick any girls up, because I was an antisocial retard.

"No, we've... known each other for a while. I just decided to visit him last night."

"Known for a while?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "How long?"

"Since, uh, middle school."

"I see. I'm assuming he already left for work?"

I should've left for work at least half an hour ago.

"Yeah."

It seemed like that short response wasn't the right one. My roommate frowned, scanning over me with his eyes. But the expression on his face immediately turned to concern when he noticed the self-inflicted bruise on my forehead, which had been partially hidden by my now-long bangs.

"Hey, what's this on your forehead?" he asked. "Anon didn't hit you or anything? Swear, if he did--"

"I bumped my head, that's all," I admitted. "Woke up and fell off the bed."

"Really?"

His stare had turned far more serious.

"Yes. Really."

"...I'll accept that," he said. "Don't go hitting your head again. Now, if he's actually intimidating you or--"

"I get it, I get it," I said, interrupting him. "I wouldn't be hanging out with the guy if he was an asshole. Just drop it, k?"

"Fine. But you still need to get that patched up. Looks like it's bleeding lightly."

"It doesn't hurt."

"It will soon if you don't patch it up. Let me do it for you."

Oh hell no, I wasn't letting my roommate patching up my forehead. Especially when I'm in a body of the opposite sex!

"Fine. But I can get this done myself," I said. "Hand me the first aid."

"Really? How are you gonna do it without a mirror?"

"I just can."

I didn't want to explain to him that I broke my bathroom mirror.

My first two attempts at applying a patch ended with my light-blue hair getting in the way. Which resulted in me having to gingerly pull the individual strands off the adhesive patch, otherwise I'd be taking a good chunk out of my bangs.

"Is your hair dyed?" my roommate asked.

"Yeah, of fucking course. What else would it be otherwise?"

"You don't need to be so defensive about that."

Finally, I got the patch on. Well, I think I did. Rubbing my fingers over the patch, it seemed to cover up the entirety of the sore spot.

"Happy?" I asked.

Thankfully, my roommate didn't respond. His attention was now on his backpack, which he was fishing his car keys out of.

"I've got classes to go to," he said. "Don't raid the fridge or anything, Anon might get pissed."

I nodded in relief. My roommate was finally leaving, which meant that I'll finally be able to approach my car without him getting suspicious.

I went to grab my keys in one of the drawers, but I stopped when I heard his voice from outside.

"Hey, did Anon really leave for work?"

Beads of sweat popped up on my forehead. What tipped my roommate off?

"What do you mean?" I asked, raising my voice so he could hear me from inside the building.

"His car's still parked here. And he normally drives to work."

How the hell could I have forgotten about that?

"Uh... Anon's coworkers picked him up," I replied, after racking my brain for whatever excuse I could find.

"Huh... he normally doesn't carpool. Always drives himself. But with gas prices up lately, gotta do what you gotta do to save money. Am I right?"

"Yeah... I suppose."

My roommate didn't respond to the final comment. I heard a car door slamming and an engine revving up.

I waited a bit longer for him to pull out of the driveway.

I flicked my sleeve back just to make sure that my car keys were still in my hand. There was only one way I was going to be getting around, after all.

I originally thought I'd need to rent a car, but thinking over it made little sense. The car I used was already in my name, with the loan paid off and everything. If it were to go missing, the only person who'd really care to report it stolen would be me.

That, and you needed a valid license to rent a car. It wouldn't have worked in the first place; I was just going to assume all of my IDs were useless from here on out.

I stepped out of the front door and made sure that nobody was outside and watering their flowers or anything of the sort. Seeing that the coast was clear, I took off for my car.

The moment I opened up the driver's side door to sit down, one thing was made immediately evident: I could barely reach the gas or brake pedal with my feet.

It wasn't much of a problem. I just needed to adjust the chair, since it was originally set to my original height. But that was a rather sour reminder of the nine or so inches of height that I've lost.

There wasn't a single complication I ran into on the way to the bank. On my way out of the car, I remembered to grab a mask to conceal my face from any potential gawkers.

Not that I was afraid people would recognize me, but I'd be lying to myself if I didn't say this body had a stunning face.

I immediately pulled as much money as I could out of my debit card. The temptation to max out my credit card was strong, but the only reason I was leaving this city for the next one over was to preserve my old life while I tried to make sense of what I've become.

The credit remained untouched. No point in doing all this if I returned to crippling debt.

Being the utter fool I was, I realized I should've pumped gas before withdrawing my money. I now had to actually go inside and hand over cash to the person working at the register, which was not a good thing when I wanted to lay low.

"Keep the change," I mumbled, handing over three twenties. He was staring at me despite the cloth mask I had on. The guy was probably freaked out by my bright yellow eyes.

After that, I immediately returned home to pack up what I needed. I paused a moment to take a look around to ensure no neighbors or anyone I knew could witness me stepping out of the car before I quickly scurried back into my room.

Slamming the door behind me, I exhaled a sigh of relief.

That trip to gather money and supplies had been nerve-wracking. I knew I technically wasn't doing anything wrong by pulling that large sum of money from my account, but some irrational part of my brain worried that a bank employee would walk up to me and ask for a photo ID.

There was no time to waste.

I pulled my dusty suitcase out from the corner of the closet and threw in anything that could be marginally useful. In went the smallest clothes I owned, dental hygiene material, reusable bottles of water, easy-to-prepare food, any snacks I had on hand, and even a dubiously legal switchblade my father had given me.

Actually... that switchblade should stay on me. I'm not sure how strong I am anymore, now that I'm in this female body, but that wasn't something I wanted to find out on a dark sidewalk.

Still on the bed was the blue jacket and white hat I woke up in. I originally intended to leave those behind, because they would've taken up space that I needed in the car.

But something about them was bugging me. It was almost like an itch in the back of the mind. Even after I had filled one of my bags full of an assortment of items, it still didn't feel enough.

I stepped up to the side of my bed and picked up the white hat.

It wasn't just me feeling inclined to take them along. It was an immediate urge that could only be equated to the tight gut you get when you were late for an appointment or realizing you left the door open after leaving for work.

"Fine, if these are so goddamn important for whatever reason I'll take 'em with me."

Scooping up both articles of clothing, I unceremoniously dumped them into my backpack. The nagging feeling immediately dissipated, which meant that I'll at least be able to sleep tonight.

Well, I'm not sure if I can even fall asleep after all this.

Time to leave for the nearest city.

Part 3

I was driving a good ten miles per hour under the speed limit on the highway, mostly because I didn't want to risk an encounter with the police at all.

That would be the worst-case scenario, especially since I now lacked a proper license. That, and my light-blue hair would've very easily caught the attention of any cop.

My palms were sweating buckets on the steering wheel. At times I had to pull over on the side of the road and wipe the sweat off with napkins.

I didn't have much of a choice in leaving my hometown. Staying would've eventually exposed my current state to everyone I knew, and I doubt they would've believed it if I tried to explain to them what had happened to me.

A sudden pang in my gut made me realize that I didn't even eat this morning. Pulling my car over to the shoulder once again, I grabbed some breakfast bar and tore off the wrapper.

Sweet... I normally didn't like sweet things, especially not as my first meal of the day. But it tasted nice, I have to admit.

My hunger was satisfied after scarfing down another two bars. Despite that, I didn't feel truly full. It was like I was missing something.

Alcohol. I had a sudden craving for alcohol.

Of course, it wasn't like I had any on hand with me immediately. And, since I was driving, I sure as hell wasn't going to go stop and grab a drink.

I pulled back onto the highway and continued to drive, to make distance between myself and my hometown.

That little part of me that demanding for alcohol soon turned into an urge. It now felt like I was physically hungry -- not that any amount of food would fix that, it was demanding alcohol.

I can't drive like this. Pulling over to the side of the road again, I gave myself a minute to recompose myself.

Maybe a bottle or two wouldn't hurt.

I unlocked my phone and went straight to the GPS. Tapping on the touchscreen keyboard a few times, I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a liquor store nearby.

It didn't take long for me to exit at the next off-ramp. I pulled into the parking lot and shifted my car into park.

This general area... honestly looked rather dubious. I wouldn't go as far as to say it was a shady place, but it wouldn't be somewhere I'd like to be around at night.

Thankfully, it was still daytime. I flipped my coat's hood over my head, to hide the elf ears and the bright blue hair that would undoubtedly attract people's attention. The cloth mask also went on, so people wouldn't see my face. I then opened the car door.

I almost jump upon hearing something the moment I stepped out. It took a few seconds for me to process the sounds as some glass being broken.

Looking at my feet, nervously, I saw part of an empty bottle of beer that had tipped probably over and shattered when I drove up. The boots that I wore crunched on the glass shards, and I was thankful that I didn't swap these out for flip-flops.

Looking at them closer, I realized that these boots actually had a raised heel. The heel was at least two inches tall, and I was surprised I didn't notice earlier.

But weren't these normally difficult to walk in? I've never touched a pair of heels before in my life, but I had no issue when I woke up and walked around earlier this morning.

That honestly perturbed me. But that was something I could ponder over later.

But wait, how was I even going to buy alcohol? The guy at the register was probably going to ask for an ID, and I can't just show him my old pre-transformation one.

Huh... there was another option. I spotted a guy who was smoking out on the corner of the liquor store. Maybe I could get him to buy something for me? The worse that can happen is him refusing to make the purchase for me.

Should I give him twenty or forty dollars? I've never actually bought liquor outside of a bar before, so I didn't know how much I needed for something that didn't taste utterly horrible.

I stopped myself. Why the hell was I pondering on how much to spend for liquor? That money was for me to wait out, not blow on booze.

...Then again, if I absolutely had to get alcohol it might as well be something I'd find bearable. What's worse, twenty dollars wasted or forty dollars enjoyed?

Forty dollars it is.

Now, what should I ask for? I didn't know much of what makes a whisky distinct from vodka or scotch, and I honestly could do with anything. Though, vodka was actually sounding a bit nice right now...

I almost physically slapped myself then and there. Why in the hell was I thinking over what drink I should ask for? I was doing this just to sate a craving, that's it.

"Uh... sir?" I asked.

"What is it?"

It was difficult asking a question, especially when my voice sounded so fucking soft and quiet and girly. Damn it, I wanted my old voice back!

"Can you buy me a drink here? I'll give you the money."

"Can't you do it yourself?"

"No ID."

"So yer underage?"

I shook my head.

"I forgot it at home, and it's a long drive away. Please, sir?"

Begging like this felt humiliating, but the pit in my stomach only widened the longer I went without anything to drink.

The guy I was talking to looked like he was considering it. But he soon backtracked with his next question.

"Why should I do it?" he asked. "What I get outta it?"

"I'll... uh, I'll pay you another twenty after the fact," I said. "Promise."

"Fine."

I handed him the forty, which he quickly snatched up.

"Buy me a vodka. You can, uh, keep the change."

He turned around without another word, making his way into the liquor store.

That was nerve-wracking, but at least it was over.

I waited for him to finish buying whatever he thought was good for me. Within five minutes he had stepped out of the store and handed me a brown paper bag with a moderately sized bottle of glass in it.

"The twenty?" he asked.

Reluctantly, I handed over another twenty-dollar bill. Sixty dollars for a bottle, this better be good. I scurried off to my car to unwrap my newly-acquired goods.

To be honest, I wasn't a good eye for alcohol or anything. A mattress company could've made the bottle of booze I held in front of me and I wouldn't know the difference upon glancing at it. But my cravings weren't going to go away from just looking at it, so I popped open the metal cap and sloshed it around.

Bottoms up.

I've never really liked drinking the strong stuff. But, as I gulped down the vodka, I marveled at how good it felt.

It felt so good that I was able to ignore the burning sensation as the drink went down my throat.

Lowering the bottle from my lips, I immediately noticed that I had already drunk a fourth of it.

I should've been worried. But the cravings that had been digging away at my gut had mostly subsided into a relieving warmth.

I took another swig, this time taking the moment to savor the flavors. Once I got used to the strong smell and taste, hints of its true taste began surfacing on my tongue: cream, grain, sweet with a hint of spice.

This was supposed to be cheap vodka, but I wouldn't have known if someone told me it was some luxury brand.

It had been a tiring day. Despite my now-hazy mind, I knew well not to drive after drinking so much. Shifting in my seat, I hugged my coat around my body.

Sudden drowsiness had washed over my mind. Alcohol combined with an eventful day... of course, it'd result in me being tired as fuck.

A nap wouldn't hurt. It was warm,

But right as I was about to doze off, I was jolted to full wakefulness as something slammed against my window.

"Huh?"

It happened again, this time with more force. My car's side window spiderwebbed at the point of impact.

There was someone on the other end, and they were trying to break in.

I scrambled to grab my switchblade. Right as I had it in my grasp, I was showered in shards of glass as the end of a tire iron smashed straight through the window.

Whoever it was poked their arm through the hole in my side window, probably trying to grab at the inside handle to open the door.

I slashed at the arm with my knife, and the guy on the other end let out a yelp of pain. He quickly pulled his arm out of the hole in my window.

This was my chance. I clicked open the car door and pushed into it with my entire weight. The door swung out quickly, and I could feel the thud on the door as it slammed into the guy that tried to break in.

I stood up to get a better look at who it was but ducked the moment I saw the same tire iron making a beeline for my head. It hit the car door's frame, leaving a nice dent in it.

"...The hell, man?!" I yelled. "What's your problem--?"

I got a good look at him, and it was the same guy I asked to buy me the alcohol earlier.

He was clutching one arm, the one that I had stabbed. His other was holding the tire iron that was used to ruin my car.

Before I could get another word in, he swung his weapon at me. I leaped back, and his tire iron slammed into the flat part of my car's door once again. This time, it punctured the surface of the door and remained stuck.

Taking this opportunity, I blindly slashed at him with my knife.

I made contact with cloth, then skin, then flesh. Through the hand that held the knife, I felt the gut-wrenching sensation of flesh being parted, until it made a hard stop as the blade hit bone.e

A sickening sweet and metallic smell hit me. Blood poured out onto the ground, getting on my arms and my coat.

The man gave a yell of pain and immediately let go of the tire iron that was stuck in my car door. He pushed me back and limped around a corner, my knife still stuck in his side.

There wasn't anything for me to do after that other than just stand there, trying to process what exactly just transpired. It only hit me once I looked down at my hands, one of which was now stained in blood.

I fell to my knees as a sudden, unexpected weakness took over my body.

A half-cry, half-whimper escaped my lips. Feeling something running down my face, I expected the worse and rubbed what I assumed was blood off my cheeks.

People didn't cry blood. I realized those were tears I was wiping away.

I used my other arm to prop myself against my car, leaning on it as the numbness persisted in my legs. My other hand was covering my mouth. As my heartbeat slowed, a throbbing headache emerged from the back of my head.

I tried my best to stop the feminine sobs from escaping my mouth. My voice was still shaking as the full weight of what I had just gone through pressed against my mildly intoxicated consciousness.

Why the hell did I feel so terrified? Why did I feel so weak?

The bastard that I attacked with my knife deserved it. He tried to get into my car, I shouldn't feel an ounce of remorse for him.

Why the hell am I like this now?

This accursed body I was forced into didn't answer. It couldn't, for it had become me. Or had I become it?

I didn't know, so I wept.

Part 4

I took off as quickly as I could in my car, despite the tears that still blurred my vision and the tire iron that remained stuck in the driver's side door. My hands shook on the steering wheel, but I needed to get as far away from there as I could. He could return, or worse, bring along friends.

That guy... why did he attack me? I had paid him a fifty percent markup on the damn alcohol, for god's sake, he had absolutely no reason to go for me.

Maybe he thought I was rich and was trying to rob me. I'm going to stick to that explanation for now because the only alternative would be...

No, I wasn't going to think of that. The thought alone terrified me.

I never asked to be in this female body.

With my left hand, I brushed away the blue hair that was getting into my eyes. The lack of a window meant that the wind got into the car and blew my annoyingly long hair around.

I needed to patch that up at some point, but going to a repair shop would gouge my measly funds.

Let's see... there should be a department store nearby. I also needed to get new clothes, the old coat I have is now stained in blood. Not my blood, of course, but I couldn't just go walking around like this.

I needed new clothes. But the only other set I had were those ones. As in, the bright-blue fluffy jacket I had woken up with.

I really did not want to wear it. Not only would the damn thing attract all the unwanted attention in the world, but it was also feminine as hell.

Okay, discounting the fact that I now basically wore a short skirt... But I didn't have any choice in that because nothing else fits! The blue jacket, on the other hand, has an alternative, which is my bloodstained coat!

I needed to weigh the pros and cons of both. Walking around in this cosplay-looking shit would be unusual, but not concerning. Walking around in my bloodstained coat wouldn't be unusual if nobody noticed, but if someone did it would definitely be concerning as hell.

I bit my lower lip. The second option had a pretty good chance of someone calling the cops on me. No amount of weird looks can equate to how bad an encounter with law enforcement would be.

Which meant I needed to swallow my pride and wear that goddamned fluffy blue jacket. At first, I had considered not wearing the jacket at all, but I changed my mind after taking one look at the clothes on the upper half of my body, minus the jacket.

Nope. Absolutely not. Even though it didn't show off a ridiculous amount of skin, it was far too form-fitting. Not only that but there was all that spilling out from over that dark blue corset...

No. Didn't wanna think about that anymore. I shook my head to clear the intrusive thoughts out.

Actually... looking at it, I could button it up to cover up my entire front. When I woke up wearing the thing it wasn't buttoned up at all, which showed off everything, from the short skirt to the unusual shirt. But actually buttoning it up would cover all of that.

I needed to stop somewhere to test this out. Pulling into a large department store parking lot, I quickly killed the engine and hopped out of my vehicle.

The jacket was quick and easy to slip on. My fingers, which were smaller and much more nimble in this body, were able to button up the jacket in a fraction of the time it would've normally taken for me to put on any button-up clothing.

This... could actually work. It covered up everything rather well, and it was actually pretty warm.

I felt an immediate, unexplainable urge to do a twirl. That urge proceeded to disappear just as quickly when I grabbed at my car's door to stop myself.

God, what was wrong with me?

There were a lot of weird things happening that I've been noticing already. Intrusive thoughts and the like... It should've worried me far more than ever, but I just felt no sense of urgency when the issue came up.

That was something I should think about later. Instead, I needed to get supplies and materials to repair my window.

Well, 'repair' is a bit of a stretch. But I think I could patch up the window. Just needed a few things for a makeshift repair.

My goal with the shopping trip was to get in and out as quickly as possible. I needed clothes, some tools, food, and... I don't know what else, but if I see it and I just happen to need it, I'll grab it.

I hurried my way through the store. There were several odd glances in my direction, but thankfully nobody bothered to confront me about the weeb-looking chick who was speed-walking around the store with a shopping basket in hand.

Tape, a sheet of hard plastic, some easily preparable foods, and a small hand saw... yeah, that wouldn't draw suspicion at all, right?

I was in the store for less than ten minutes before gathering all the items I needed to buy. Waiting in line for checkout was rather nerve-wracking; people didn't seem to be paying attention to me then, maybe because they just assumed I was some odd fellow that liked wearing weird clothes.

The cashier raised an eyebrow when she saw me, but she didn't stop scanning my items.

There was a silence between both of us before she started a conversation.

"My daughter is getting into this cosplay thing. Your clothes look a bit... flashy, I'm assuming you're cosplaying too?"

Goddamn it, why did she have to start with that?

"Um... yeah, I am doing the cosplay thing."

What was I supposed to say, no?

"It looks... nice," the cashier continued. "But it's really flashy, you shouldn't have worn it out for a shopping trip. Don't people only wear those at those convention events?"

I knew absolutely nothing about anime conventions, so I began to pull explanations out of thin air.

"Oh, I'm just... breaking into the outfit," I said. "You know how shoes feel weird on your feet right after you buy them? Something like that, I'm getting used to... this."

That was a straight-up lie, I already felt comfortable in this.

"Oh... really?"

It seemed the cashier wasn't paying all that attention to the conversation anymore. She was now bagging the contents of my admittedly unusual shopping cart.

"I read it on some online message board," I bluffed.

"If so, I'll tell my daughter about that bit of advice, then."

Oh hell no, please don't. I literally pulled that outta thin air to cover my ass. I could only hope she'd forget about it before trying to tell anyone else.

"Well... thanks," I said, as she handed me a plastic bag full of the various items I've bought.

"Have a nice day."

I didn't allow for another second of conversation as I strode out of the store. I needed to fix my car's window before someone stole everything out of it.

Thankfully, everything was still there.

I pulled the tire iron out of my car door. With my switchblade now gone, I suppose I could also defend myself with this...

Using the cheap saw I bought from the store, I cut out a very rough outline of my driver-side window from the sheet of hard plastic. Using the clear tape, I first secured it to the door's frame and ensured that it was scaffolded well before going crazy with the tape.

The repair looked hillbilly as hell, but it should hold.

With that out of the way, I threw everything I bought into the passenger seat and hopped into the back seat. I didn't realize how hungry I was until after the shopping trip, so I began tearing into the snack foods that were kept in the backpack.

I would've preferred a heartier meal, but even simple cup noodles required hot water, of which I had none.

The 'meal' was scarfed down quick.

There wasn't much else for me to do. My car was somewhat fixed up and I didn't need to worry about additional clothes anymore.

Maybe I should hit the highway again.

As if on cue, my phone began to ring.

I grabbed the device to check who it was from. Seeing that the call was from someone familiar, I picked it up.

"Hello?"

My muscle memory reacted too quickly for me to realize that I should not have done that.

"Anon, is everything—wait, who the fuck is this?"

That was one of my coworkers.

"I'm sorry, but I believe you have the wrong number," I immediately said.

"The wrong number? Bullshit, I have Anon in my contacts list. Who the hell are you?"

"I—I'm sorry, but Anon is in an emergency right now. He can't come to the phone."

"What? He hasn't called in about anything like that, nor has the guy shown up to work today. And why the hell are you answering his phone?"

The many excuses I pulled out of my ass didn't last long, so I decided to cut the line.

"Sorry, but I'll need to be going!"

"Hey. Hey! Don't hang up, you—!"

Click.

I lowered the phone from my ear and wiped the sweat off my brow. I fucked up, I fucked up real bad. There was a chance he was now going to the police, probably to report that someone had stolen my phone.

Never again.

To prevent a mistake like that from ever happening again, I pulled the SIM card from my phone. I didn't want to lose it, of course, so I left it in my car's coin tray.

With that out of the way... what else was there for me to do? It was getting dark already, and I haven't even gone back on the highway yet.

I don't think I want to. My arms ached and my eyelids were starting to feel heavy. Raising a bottle to my lips, I absentmindedly took a sip while watching the parking lot lights flicker on.

I recoiled back when I felt a strong, sweet, and spicy flavor hit my tongue. Holding the bottle up and turning on the above light, I saw that it was the half-filled bottle of vodka I picked up earlier that day.

...Did I do that subconsciously? I don't even remember picking up the bottle earlier.

Either way, I needed to make this bottle of vodka last. It would be difficult to get my hands on any other alcoholic drinks, and I sure as hell won't approach any other shady-looking guy to buy a drink for me.

Placing the bottle back down, I popped the cap off a water bottle and took a long swig. Why the fuck was I concerned about my alcohol, of all things now? There had to be something... I was certainly no alcoholic before this, but now I can't get that sharp ethanol scent out of my mind.

I needed to get some sleep, today had been a long day. I reclined my seat back and hugged the fluffy jacket around my body, allowing my eyelids to droop and my consciousness to dissolve into one of the most restless nights I've ever had.

Part 5

I woke up with a pounding headache.

Everything was a mess. My arm was stuck in a headrest, my leg was wrapped around the bottom of the seat. I wrenched one of my hands free of wherever it was to wipe my eyes.

My mouth was unbelievably dry, only exacerbated by the migraine that I had. I grabbed a water bottle and popped the cap off, chugging it down.

There was nothing.

I blinked. It felt heavy, there should've been some water in it. I turned the bottle around, shaking it to see what was wrong.

Oh.

The water was frozen.

Was it that cold last night? No, the weather should've been warm. Last time I checked the weather report there wasn't going to be any hail or snow.

But that wasn't the case. Even the fucking windows were frosted over.

God fucking damn it, my car better not stall when I try to start it up.

I didn't feel cold at all, which was unusual. But I still needed to warm up the car, both because I was worried that I'd need to jump-start it, something I've never done before, and also I needed some water to drink.

Pulling the tire iron over the front console out of the way, I leaned over from the back seat to push the keys into the ignition and turn it. My car rumbled to life, which was a relief, and I immediately turned the heat to full blast.

That's gonna take a good five minutes to warm up. Leaning back in my seat and rubbing my forehead, I began to ponder over random things in an attempt to distract my attention from the absolute migraine I had.

I remembered having a weird dream last night. The first part of it involved me chugging alcohol.

Jesus Christ, am I now drinking in my dreams too?

The second part was... well, I didn't know how to describe it. It was oddly comforting, the type of comfort you'd get if you were hugging close with someone you loved. Like a girlfriend.

Except I never had a girlfriend, so I can't really compare to see how accurate it was.

I couldn't remember their face all that well. But the one thing that stuck out to me was the silver hair.

Despite my headache, an odd thirst was starting to claw at the back of my throat. I recognized it immediately; that alcohol craving that was torturing me for the latter half of yesterday.

I really didn't want to drink any right now, but there wasn't any other way to get rid of the itch. The bottle had to be somewhere around here, I thought I placed it on the seat earlier...

My boots clinked against a glass container on the floor of the car. Looking down, I saw that it was the bottle my vodka was in.

No, this couldn't be... it looked entirely empty. Picking it up, I swished it around to confirm that there was nothing in it.

What the hell? Did I spill it last night? No, the floor was entirely dry. It all disappeared somehow.

Utterly horrible migraine, no vodka left, that odd dream about me chugging alcohol...

Did I fucking sleepwalk-drink it all down?

There wasn't any other way for me to explain it. I could even smell a bit of alcohol on my breath.

I now had two problems. One, this hangover. Second, I now needed to look for more alcohol. The cravings were not going to go away on their own, hell they'd probably get really bad given enough time.

God, this headache... was the water bottle done melting?

Speaking of water... it seemed like some water was condensing on my car's windows? I dunno why, the temperature was supposed to be rising.

Using the sleeve of my jacket, I tried to wipe the condensate away. But instead, my sleeve pushed up against ice as it shaved a thin layer of it off the glass windshield.

"What the fuck."

Yes, my window was now dripping water all over the seats... I checked the windows on the other side, the back window, even the front windshield.

It had all frosted over on the inside of my car!

I had enough of this. I was near my fucking limit. First the hangover, then the alcohol, now everything inside is wet because I turned up the heat and melted all the ice!

What a pain.

Another excruating 10-minute long wait passed before the water in my bottles melted, and I was finally able to drink from them. I emptied at least three of those bottles before my parched throat couldn't take another ounce of water.

The headache was beginning to subside, allowing me to think over the predicament I was in.

I sure as hell was not going to try to get someone to buy me alcohol again... at the same time, I really needed more.

This addiction was one I probably literally can't kick, but I had no other choice.

I was going to steal some.

Of course, the only liquor place location nearby was the one I had just been to. And I didn't want to put my SIM card back in my phone because I'd get a flood of texts and calls, and I can't really rely on myself to not fall on muscle memory of picking up calls.

As for stealing it... well, I suppose I could try to hide it in my coat. And make a run for it if they find out.

I switched over to the driver's seat, ensuring that the ice caking the windows and the water dripping down from them were wiped off.

Driving the entire way there, I got nervous. That guy yesterday who I attacked... well, he was the only one who confronted me, so maybe the guy was on his own.

But he might have told his buddies.

Pulling into the parking lot, I scanned the area. He wasn't here at all, which was good... but how would I even spot his friends?

Fuck it. I had to take the risk because there was nowhere else I could get alcohol immediately.

I stepped out of my car, my coat buttoned up and hugging my body. I needed a weapon on me to protect myself; the tire iron was hidden in my sleeve, and I could slide it down into my hand if things were to get troublesome.

Too bad about my knife.

On my way to the store, I accidentally bumped into a guy. Well, it was more like he walked into me.

"Sorry," I squeaked.

The man didn't reply, only glared down at me before stepping past.

People seemed rather hostile around these parts, didn't they?

Stepping in, I surveyed the surroundings. There were quite a bit of people in here... Seems like a bad thing at first, but I could use that to my advantage.

I stepped in front of one of the shelves, one that was furthest away from the register. There were several bottles of cheap alcohol.

Which one should I choose? The last one I had was nice, but it felt a little too strong. Maybe something more subtle in alcohol strength, with more flavor...

Why the fuck was I thinking over what to steal? I shook my mental state out of that odd ditch it was caught on, and quickly looked right and left.

The metal rod that served as my makeshift weapon was cold against my bare skin under the coat, a reminder of what I'm about to do being rather illegal.

Coast was clear. Except for that security camera, they'll know later if it's recorded. But I planned to be long gone by then.

Two assorted bottles went into my coat. I didn't even bother looking at the labels; every second was precious.

I made my way out of the liquor store, walking alongside some other guys as cover. Once they went off on a different path, I hugged the walls of the building so I could monitor the one side I had exposed.

But as I turned the corner, something was swung at me.

I stumbled into the wall, as an immediate pain flared up on my thigh, before collapsing to the ground.

Some bastard... they swung a bat at my leg.

"This is the bitch that he was talking about?"

I felt my bangs being grabbed, my head forced up to look at the guy that attacked me.

"This short girl really gave him all that trouble?"

There were two of them. The one holding my hair was the guy with the bat, the same one I bumped into just earlier, and another one was behind him, holding something I couldn't see.

I got my answer when that guy shoved the barrel of a handgun in my face.

"She's pretty," he said. "Hey, if you make any funny moves I'll shoot you right here."

The tire iron would feel really good in my hand right about now.

"That trigger finger of yours will get us a whole lotta unwanted attention if you do," the guy with the bat replied. "I can just knock her out. Quieter that way."

I silently shifted my arm to allow the tire iron to slide out, the sound of it moving muffled by my thick outfit.

"Hey, talk to me," the one with the gun said. He grabbed me by the collar of my coat. "You mute? That guy you cut up bad, he was a friend. You realized what you just did?"

The tire iron slid into my hand. With his one hand preoccupied, the other on the gun that wasn't pointed at me, I decided to act.

I swiftly raised the metal rod over my head.

"Huh?"

I brought the tire iron down as hard as I could on the guy's shoulder.

There was a sickening crack. He screamed, loudly, and I heard a clatter as he dropped something.

The gun was on the ground.

Pick it up.

There was a whisper in my ear. It was barely audible. And oddly familiar.

Pick it up.

And I dove for the firearm.

The guy seemed too stunned to react quick enough, and the pistol was in my hands before they realized what was even happening.

Shoot him.

I raised the handgun.

Shoot him.

I had never fired a gun before in my life. Despite that, my arms effortlessly got into position, both hands on the grip, my finger on the trigger.

It was like they were being guided by a familiar presence. Like how I'd assume an instructor would.

You won't shoot him?

My hands were shaking. I didn't want to do this. But the guys had weapons of their own, and I couldn't run away with my injured leg...

I'll do it for you.

I didn't try to move my finger an inch, yet it still pressed down on the trigger.

Both of my arms jolted back, and the gunshot deafened me. I didn't realize for that moment that I had actually fired it.

The man stumbled back, screaming. The other one had seen what I just did and had been backing away, which eventually turned into a full sprint to get the hell away from me.

I was still sitting on the ground, my ears now ringing.

Needed to get away... the bat-wielding guy was right, it was going to attract so much attention.

Ignoring the pain flaring up in my thigh, I got to my feet and hobbled back to the car.

Once the doors were slammed shut and the locks were secure, I immediately started up my car. I pulled the bottles of stolen alcohol out from the bottom of my coat, placing them on the middle armrest, before turning to the steering wheel.

I still had the gun in my hand, and I was about to throw it out of the window.

Keep it.

What?

To stay safe.

My reluctance was immediately overwritten. I felt... inclined to follow that voice.

As I pulled the car out of the parking lot, a flash of silver hair in my peripherals caught my attention. I turned instinctively, to see who it was that was in the passenger side seat.

There was nobody there.

I was going crazy... the paranoia was getting to my fucking head, why was I starting to see things?

I needed to get as far away from this place as possible.

Author’s Note

A Part 6 was never written, but I do have outlines for it as for how it would have gone:

Anon is driving on the highway for quite some time, until he almost runs out of fuel. So, he stops at a gas station.

Because of his lack of credit card, he goes inside to pay and doesn’t think much of it until he goes back out to begin pumping gas into the car. Upon glancing at the gas pump, he realizes that the only things he could understand are the numbers.

In a moment of panic, he grabs his phone to try to enter his password, but can’t recognize any of the letters on the keyboard. So, he tries to remember his name and birthday, which were part of the password, but they’re difficult to recall.

It doesn’t quite set in yet how bad this is.

Night comes and he buys food. He can’t read any of the packaging on the food anymore, and he doesn’t feel safe sleeping in the car either. So he tries to book a motel room.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of them require an ID, which he does not have.

Anon's heart goes 100bpm when the person at the counter asks "Hey, if you don't have your driver's license with you for ID why are you driving your car?", and he immediately nopes out of there.

He finally finds a mom-and-pop motel that doesn’t require ID, only money. More expensive than the others but no ID required means that it’s viable for him.

Anon finally settles into a room for the night, and, seeing a shower, is tempted to take one. This is where he undresses for the first in the story. I planned to write this as a bait and switch on the fanservice; Anon has trouble unbuttoning something and remember that he is, in fact, currently a woman and begins to explore.

But once he’s in the shower and warm water is running down his hair and back, he just breaks down again and begins crying as gravity of the last few days begins to hit.

Part 6 ends there. Part 7 is even less defined than Part 6, but that’s the part where Anon forgets how to speak English.

I have little guideline for how the story would’ve gone past that, but it would have eventually been revealed that Anon’s case was not an isolated incident and is hitting people all across the United States. All because of a single shipment of blue Sake that had been... spiked with something, let’s just say.

Due to several other ongoing projects I am participating in, it’s unlikely I will complete this. The story of Anon will remain on this cliffhanger, though I do hope this brings closure on where I planned to bring this story.

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Pub: 01 Nov 2024 17:00 UTC
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