A Whateley Academy Adventure

Hiding in the shadows of the Crescent Moon

by

Rose Redd

Part One

I'ma walkin' in the rain
Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain
Wishin' you were here by me
To end this misery

I wonder
I wo-wo-wo wonder
Why... why-why-why-why-why
She ran away
And I wonder where she will stay
My little runaway
I run-run-run-run runaway – Del Shannon “Runaway”

WARNING: this story contains potential triggers, homophobic, racist, and derogatory terms, under-age sex, sex with people below the age of consent, and child prostitution.

Natchez, Mississippi
Natchez High School

Sammie stood by the lockers, his eyes focused at looking anywhere but at Suzy. She had been his first friend long ago. But now she was the school’s ‘Queen Bee’ with her large breasts and outrageous curves. Sammie struggled to see any sign of his tomboy best friend from when he was younger. Remembering when they would go down to the creek and go hunting for crawdads and frogs. It was hard to imagine the girl across the hallway doing anything like that. She stood there, a goddess in a short pleated cheerleader skirt and top. With the short ankle socks and the length of the skirt, her long, long legs were on display. Sammie blushed as he deftly avoided looking at that plump, round ass that was barely covered by the sinfully small outfit. A slight turn twirled the skirt, and the red spanks she wore underneath were briefly revealed as the blonde stood there oblivious to his sneaky glances. Little did Sammie know, but as he turned and walked away, Suzy looked in his direction and frowned.

The next day,
at the house of Samuel Haskins

Sammie sat in bed, unable to get up. He had felt nauseous all morning. The minor aches and pains in his limbs prevented him from getting up. It was fortunate that it was Saturday, and that his parents were out. Stretching and walking down the hall, he dropped his robe and climbed into the shower. The hot water cascaded over his body as he rolled his head, trying to work the kinks out of his neck. He had hours before his parents would return from their Klan meeting. Besides being the Sheriff, his father was also the local Grand Wizard, and chairman of the local Humanity First branch. Not that he believed in anything that his parents did or said or believed in. No, he kept his opinions to himself. When he was six, his father beat a black girl severely right in front of him, for “daring to look at him.”.

After finishing his shower, getting dressed, and making himself a small breakfast, Sammie got out his bike and pedaled to the mall. The latest expansion of Wizards of Neverwhere was finally out, and his reserved copy had surely been held for him.

After locking up the bike and heading in, he made a dash for the Game Emporium. Ten minutes later, he was walking out with his purchase. Distracted with thoughts of playing the game he had been waiting for months to come out, he didn’t notice that his path took him straight into a girl that was standing nearby.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Wha…. Suzy?” He said, as he offered her a hand up from the floor. Sure enough, it was Suzy Summerfield, his once best friend.

She looked him up and down, then frowned. Glancing at a group of nearby popular kids, she berated him. “Watch out where you are going, you spaz. Honestly, geeks like you should know your place. With her nose in the air, Suzy walked off in a huff.

Dejectedly, Sammie slunk back to where he had locked up his bike. On the way home, tears fell. It wasn’t fair. He missed her. Around her eleventh birthday, she had started to mature. She had been the first girl in their age group at school to develop breasts, and she still had the biggest bust out of everyone in their grade. Add to that, her narrow waist and that irresistible ass, it was no wonder the boys flocked to her. She hadn’t just gotten shapelier, but taller as well. Having grown a good three inches or so taller than his five foot six.

Arriving home, he parked his bike in the garage and headed up to his room. Not even bothering with his game, he dejectedly flopped on his bed and cried. She had always been special to him, but when had it gone from simple friendship to love? That he didn’t know.

He lay there for a good half hour, all motivation to do anything torn from him by Suzy’s hateful words. With a sigh, he finally sat up. Suddenly, he heard a sound he had not heard in a long time. The sound of pebbles striking the glass of his bedroom window. There was only one person that ever did that, Someone he was now hesitant to see. But that had always been their signal to each other to come down to the door. Reluctantly, he did. She was not there, but the flower pot next to the door had been rotated slightly. An old signal of theirs to look under it. Doing so, Sammie picked it up and found a note, he opened it up and read it.

Tomorrow looks to be a beautiful day to go fishing.

Immediately, he folded the note back up and put it in his pocket. It was in their personal code. She wanted to meet with him tomorrow, at the old shack they had once used as their fort. He felt conflicted. This was his childhood friend, but she had been so mean to him earlier. Yet, despite all his conflicted emotions, he knew one thing. He loved her. After playing his game for a few hours, he went to bed early, dreams of her and him occupied his unconscious mind.

Morning came, and he hurried through a shower and put on his normal fishing outfit. Kissing his mother’s cheek, he grabbed an orange and ate it while his mother fixed him a bag lunch.

His dad walked in, in uniform. To be clear, his sheriff uniform, not the Klan one. Tussling Sammie’s hair, he looked at his son. “Heading off to fish, huh?”

Nodding, Sammie responded. “I heard that the channel cats are biting. If I hook some, think Mom will make her usual blackened style?”

Sammie’s dad smiled, “We can only hope”

“I am in the room, you know. And yes, I will.” His mother teased.

 Grabbing his pole and tackle box, and his bait bucket, Sammie headed out the door and down the driveway. After he disappeared out of sight of the house, he turned from the path to Saint Catherine Creek, and instead headed for the old shack that he and Suzy had discovered ages ago. The old shack was sitting at the far edge of a plot of land that was full of overgrown trees, long grass, and brambles. It was not visible except from up close, due to the trees surrounding it and the kudzu that had entwined itself over it.

Vines hung over the doorway, like some living draped curtain. Brushing them aside, he entered. He looked around their secret clubhouse. It was still in good condition, their repairs when they had been children had been further continued. Bracing and structural support beams had been added. The holes in the walls boarded over. The old concrete floor had been swept. Clearly, Suzy had continued using the space, even after they drifted apart. Sitting on the old vinyl cushions, he looked around. There was a fold-away bed frame, orange crate end tables, one had a clock radio on it, the other a small reading lamp. An old refrigerator hummed quietly in the corner. An old wooden chair and table completed the furnishings. Books covered the table. He considered getting up and grabbing a book, but that was when she walked in. Brushing the vines aside, Suzy entered. Seeing Sammie, she did the last thing he expected. She ran over to him, hugged him in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she repeated over and over, as tears flowed down her cheeks.

 Sammie was confused. Sure, she was taller than him, but she lifted him off the floor with ease. Additionally, she was apologizing and crying, despite her cold reaction at the mall. He gasped and managed to wheeze out a response. “P… put me down, I c… can’t breathe.”

Suzy seemed to realize what she was doing, because she sheepishly did as he asked. Wiping her tears on her sleeve, she gestured to the cushions. “Let’s sit. I have a lot to tell you.” She smiled, and it was the old her, his best friend back again.

“I’m really sorry for what I did and said yesterday. I didn’t want to hurt you.” She said.

“He looked at her with a dubious expression. “Then why did you?”

Suzy sighed. “There were three members of the football team and two from the wrestling team watching us. If I didn’t humiliate you, they would have made it their business to seek you out later and I wouldn’t have been there to keep you from getting hurt.”

Looking at the girl he had loved for years, he shook his head. “You say all that, but you left me. Drifted off to the popular kids and never looked back. Why should I believe you?”

Her head drooping, she wiped her eyes. “I should have handled things differently, I know that now. But I was scared. I was barely eleven, and I was maturing far too soon, and far too fast. In addition, I had flashes of intuition and learning just came easier to me. I barely had to study anymore. I had to hide my true self. I was the first girl in our class with breasts. I was the first to have their period. I was maturing way faster than everyone else. I somehow knew that if I didn’t put distance between us, you would be hurt.”

Sammie looked at her. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t at first either. What sixth grader can read high school and college textbooks and understand them completely? The electrical outlets in here? It took me better part of a month, on and off… but I wired the electrical systems in here after reading a book on advanced electrical work. I dug a trench where I ran PVC pipe containing the wiring from here to the street light at the end of the lane. I tapped into the municipal power supply all by myself. You see the refrigerator over there? I carried that in here by myself. I repaired it and got it working.” Standing up, Suzy walked over to the bench and picked up a law book that sat on it.“I read this book once, all the way through. I remember it all, and I could likely pass the state Bar exam if I took it. I’m a mutant, Sammie.”

Swallowing hard, Sammie took a second to process the news. Suzy looked at him with a frown, and continued to speak. “I have absolute recall over anything I read, I took several IQ tests online anonymously. I’ve scored over three hundred on every one. I knew that if I stayed close to you my appearance would get you targeted by other boys as we got older. Then there is the matter of your family… For both our sake, I thought that out of sight-out of mind would be best. Still, I should have told you why. Maybe we could have kept meeting in secret? I’m not sure. But I regret hurting you.”

Sammie smiled feebly. “It did hurt, especially when I would hear all the other boys brag and boast. In the locker room during gym, most of the jocks boast about how they’ve gone all the way with you. Nearly all of them claiming to have taken your virginity.”

Suzy returned to the cushions and sat down next to him. “You know the difference between any of them claiming to have taken my virginity, and you claiming it? With you, it’ll be true.” Suzy kissed him on the top of his head, then gently putting her finger under his chin, she lifted his head and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

A short time later.

Laying on the cushions wrapped in a bed sheet, the two basked in the afterglow of their special moment. Sammie sighed contentedly, his head resting on Suzy’s chest. Kissing the top of Sammie’s head Suzy was silent. Thoughts mulling around in her head. It was important, what she had to say. But it scared her. She knew that it would send the person she loved into danger. “Sammie, there’s something I need to tell you. Something that may scare you. I need you to be brave and listen.”

Tensing up, the boy shifted his head, looking at his lover. “I know we can’t be public about this, if that’s what you are thinking. You were right, the jocks would likely kill me.”

Suzy stroked his hair. “It’s not that, As I said, part of my mutant powers is that I remember things, and am smarter than most people. With that comes awareness and increased attention to detail. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and lately I have noticed things. Very subtle, very slight. Things you might not have even seen.”

The two of them sat up, the blanket that covered them falling away. “Such as?” Sammie asked nervously.

With a frown Suzy looked at him. “Subtle changes in your facial features, your skin, your bone structure, your irises are ever so slightly getting lighter, while the whites of your eyes are slightly darker. And not just your face. Your body is changing. You’ve lost several millimeters in height, as well. You appear to be shrinking slowly. I’m afraid you are manifesting slowly as a mutant. You need to get ready to leave, as soon as you can. I’ll get together as much money as I can, I advise you do so too. Pack a ‘get-away’ bag, and be ready to run as soon as you can, in case your changes speed up.”

Sammie choked as he listened to his best friend’s advice. “You have to be kidding me, right? I mean the joke isn’t funny.”

Suzy looked at him, tears starting to fall. “I’m not joking. I want to stay with you and love you forever, but your dad would surely kill you as soon as he found out. Either him, or some of his friends in Humanity First or the Klan. If you need to run, head west. When you cross the Mississippi, you’ll be in Louisiana, and out of his jurisdiction. Be careful though, I’m sure he has friends and contacts all over the region. Get a cheap phone and keep it hidden and charged. I’ll give you my number and help you when I can. Keep it charged.”

Sammie listened and nodded. His world shaken. “I… I need to go. I have to come home with some fish. I told them I was out fishing.”

A smile crept across Suzy’s face. “I told you, I’m a genius now. I went out early and caught some just before sunrise. They are in the fridge. You have more time before you need to go.”

Sammy eased back into his lover’s arms, closing his eyes and letting her soothingly stroke his back.

Later that evening.

Sammy sat at the dinner table, uneasy. He glanced at his mother and father talking and laughing as they enjoyed the fish that he had ‘caught’. They seemed the very picture of Americana, lifted from a Norman Rockwell painting, but if the subject of the conversation was scrutinized the vile and loathsome reality was just under the surface. Vague allusions to activities undertaken in the name of the Klan, Humanity First, or Mothers Against Mutant Aberrations were sprinkled throughout the conversation like some disgusting seasoning on rotting meat. After finishing his meal, he headed upstairs to his room. How’d he end up with such detestable parents, anyhow?

The next morning.

Sitting on the bed, Sammy sighed. He had gotten his supplies together and readied, and expected to leave in the next few days. He walked into the kitchen, and his Dad looked at him and shot up from his seat.

“Freak!” he shouted. Looking at the boy’s eyes, he saw the light green tint to his sclera and the light grey irises that had replaced the boy’s formerly brown eyes. Details that had not been there at breakfast.

Hearing his father shout that word and bolt up, Sammy turned and sped out the door as fast as he could.

“Shit!” He had expected to have a couple days at least to get ready, but now it was too late. His best hope was to make it to the hideout.

That wish was futile though, as his father caught up to him by the end of the drive. The iron grip clamped around his upper arm and yanked him backwards. Punch after punch, kick after kick, Sammy lay there broken, unable to move. Eventually, his father left. He managed to get up and stagger on, intent on getting to safety, to Suzy’s shack… to Suzy. Things got dark and he stumbled, falling to the ground. Crawling a little ways, he felt the hot sensation of warm asphalt under his hands. His eyes were   swelling from the battery, and he passed out.

Sheriff Haskins arrived at the spot where he had left Sammy laying a few minutes prior. The boy was nowhere to be seen. Slamming the shovel he had gone to get to the ground, he yelled “shit!”, and began searching.

Merit Health Hospital
Natchez, MS.

The ER charge nurse greeted the Paramedics at the door. “What do we have?”, she asked urgently.

The lead paramedic, a tall man responded quickly. “Male approximately fourteen to sixteen years old blunt force trauma to his entire body. BP 140 over 90, temperature 103.3. Signs of possible mutant manifestation, eyes are discolored and pupils are dilated. Arrested in the field, CPR administered Possible pneumo-thorax. Bagged en route.”

The nurse ordered them into an examination room. Sammy was carefully placed onto the exam bed, and a doctor came in. After a brief examination, Sammie was placed in an ice bath in an attempt to lower the temperature, but that only seemed to stabilize it.

It was a half-hour later when the Sheriff came in, playing the role of the concerned father. Sammy’s fingerprints were in the The National Child ID Program database, making it easy for the hospital to discern his identity.

“Doctor, I heard my son was brought in.” He stated, an attempt to play the role of the concerned father.

The ER chief was new to the area, and unfamiliar with the Sheriff’s reputation. If he had known, he might not have said anything.

The Sheriff briefly frowned at seeing the hospital security guards stationed outside the freak’s room, but put the mask of the caring father back on before anyone could see.

He moved closer to the doctor that stood beside the abhorrent thing. “Doctor, what happened to my boy?” He said in a faux concerned tone.

The doctor, an older man with white hair and a bit of a paunch looked to the younger man. “Your son was found badly beaten along the side of Providence Road by passing motorists. He’s been severely beaten and has entered a state called a ‘burnout’. This is not uncommon in those undergoing mutation when they are severely injured during their manifestation of their mutant powers.”

“You are saying my boy is a mutant?” The Sheriff responded, with an award-worthy tone of surprise.

“Indeed, there are signs indicating so, such as the change of his eyes to an unusual coloration.” The doctor indicated.

“How long until I’m able to take him home? His mother and I were worried when he left suddenly.”

The older man frowned. “There is no way to know. His situation is serious, his heart stopped and he was administered CPR, which managed to restore his cardiac rhythm.. We will be transferring him up to the intensive care unit for now. But it could be days, weeks, we have no way of knowing.”

After a while staring at the freak, the sheriff left, ostensibly to begin working on the case, but in reality he could no longer bear to look at the creature.

Several days later.
Adams County Sheriff’s Office.
Natchez, MS.

He sat in the chair, files spread out on the table. Lists of known pedophiles and violent criminals. Of course the files he had the most interest in were the blacks, the natives, the Asians. Anyone he could pin the beating on. Deep in thought, he was startled when the phone rang.

“Richard…” the gravelly, familiar voice began.

“Governor Clement, to what do I owe the honor?”, Richard Haskins nervously responded.

The governor took a deep breath that Richard could hear over the phone. “You have quite an issue brewing down there. An issue that needs clearing up.”

The Sheriff was uneasy, as he knew Clement wasn’t a man for hyperbole.

“I don’t...”

 The Governor cut him off. “Richard. Don’t try to bullshit me. I’ve looked the other way when it comes to your… off-duty activities, but this mess needs a solution. The press has been poking their noses in, painting your son as a victim of anti-mutant hate. And the voters are eating it up. I know you have been playing the sorrowful father, but if they look too closely into your involvement in this fiasco, your ‘hobbies’ will surely come up.”

Swallowing his pride, Haskins asked the question he already knew the answer to. “What would you have me do?”

“If you quietly step down, you can paint this as ‘devoting your time to the care for your child’. You can keep your pension, and once things die down in the media your son can... go off somewhere far away… for school or some such… Don’t worry, I’ll pick one of your deputies to replace you, so you won’t be a suspect I have to go now, a committee meeting is waiting. Think about what I’ve said.” With that statement, the Governor hung up.

Angered, Richard grabbed the phone and threw it across the room, then cupped his face and started sobbing. That monster that had fooled him into believing it was his son was dragging him down into dangerous territory. If it woke and told it’s story his people would not report it… but the media, on the other hand would. Richard knew his men, or at least he thought he did. But what if he was mistaken? What if one of them was sympathetic to the creature? There was a lot to think about… How could he silence it while under guard at the hospital?

Later that night
Merit Health Hospital
Natchez, MS.

Sammy was cold, but he was hot… it made no sense. He tried to open his eyes, but they were covered by something. Some form of blindfold… or… no, bandages, he could tell it was a bandage wrapped around his head. Before he took it off though, he took a deep breath, and felt the wrongness. Everything felt off… different… not right. Reaching for the bandage, he slowly found the end and began to unravel it. The first thing he noticed was his hand. It was smaller, more delicate. His skin was pale, with a slight green tint to it.

When he moved, he felt a sharp pain from his penis. The catheter pulled out painfully, trickling a small amount of blood. He gasped as he looked down, He had never been the most endowed person ever, but his dick had been of decent size, and Suzy had seemed to like it. But now, it was shrunken...more like that of a six or seven year old. His balls were similarly smaller than before. There were monitors bedside, and quietly he reached over and turned them off. Stumbling across the room, he reached the bathroom. Turning on the light, he realized something that had escaped him before. He was physically smaller than before. His eyes wandered to his chest. While his skin had gained a light green tint, his nipples and areola had become a dark green. Not only that, but both had grown in size. Looking at the ever so slight swell to his chest, he figured out what was happening. Falling to the floor he sobbed, tears flowing like a waterfall.

After a few minutes, he clumsily got to his feet. Turning the light in the bathroom off, he sat down on the floor. Thoughts were swirling through his head. Thoughts of ending his life, of Sally leaving him, of his father laughing as he beat Sammy to death. Part of him wanted it to be over, but a stubborn part pushed that thought away. Sammy sat in the corner of the bathroom for a while. When the nurse came in, she saw the empty bed, and looked around the room. Glancing into the bathroom, somehow missed seeing the boy sitting in the shadows.

When the nurse rushed out of the room, Sammy was confused. She had looked right at him, and not seen him. When she came back with the guards, they turned on the bathroom light, and looked right at him.

“Where did you go?”, the nurse asked nervously.

Sammy tilted his head, perplexed. “I was here the whole time.”

The nurse stepped out for a moment to talk to the guard, and Sammy quickly looked around. Aside from the hospital robe, there was nothing he could wear. Peering out the door quickly, the guards were still standing at either side of the door. He quickly hatched a plan. Picking up a metal tray that had been left bedside, he moved to a spot beside the door. Throwing the tray, it clattered loudly. When the guard rushed in with the nurse not far behind, he slipped out the door behind him, and checked doors nearby. Quickly finding a supply closet, Sammy ducked in. After searching the shelves, he was decked out in scrubs and hospital slippers. With the lights out in the supply closet, he experimented with trying to blend into the shadows intentionally. Looking at his hands, they seemed to fade, getting more and more difficult to see. He heard the hospital paging system. “Code Yellow, in the ICU. Code yellow in the ICU.”

Remaining in the supply closet, Sammie sat motionless. Several times the door was opened and a guard would look in, turning on the lights. But in the corner Sammie sat it was still fairly dark, with full shelving units blocking the light. After several hours, Sammie managed to creep closer to the stairwell. Making a dash for it, he slowly descended down to the bottom floor. Whether it was luck or fate, he could not say, but he encountered no security. After saying a silent prayer, he opened the door a crack and peered out. He was close to freedom, seeing no security officers about. After slipping from his hiding place, he ran as fast as his tired sore body could. He didn’t stop running until he was several blocks away. Collapsing in the dirty alleyway, he passed out.

It was dark when Sammie awoke, the moon was a sliver of pale light in the sky. He managed to drag himself along, arriving at the hidden shack just before sunrise. He was sweaty, filthy, and still had a slight fever. Laying down on the cushions, he rejoiced in the feeling of safety, and let sleep take him.

Two days later.

Sammie woke up with the sheets sticking to his body. Looking around, confused, Sammie staggered over to the fridge. Something felt off, Sammie couldn’t quite place it in the haze of having just awoken.   Reaching the fridge, Sammie noticed there were a lot of soft drinks on one shelf, that formed a square. Most of them were cans of Dr. Pepper, however on the left side there were five Pepsis lined up in the shape of a capital ‘L’. It was code, Suzy had left him a message.

Walking over to the back left corner of the shack, Sammie pulled up the floorboard, retrieving a tackle box and taking it over to the cushions. Sitting down exhausted, Sammie opened the box. There was a letter on top, and a large stack of money. Opening a can of Dr. Pepper, Sammie began to read.

My Dearest beloved Samuel.

I write this letter to warn you. I am being watched, I managed to slip my tail in order to leave this message, but I can not rely on that happening again.  f you made it here, you were fortunate, as I suspect the hospital was also being watched. Things have gotten bad while you were unconscious. The Governor has fired your father. Unofficially, of course. Unfortunately the new sheriff was one of your father’s Klan buddies, and is maintaining the rumor that you are a dangerous criminal that needs to be brought in for questioning. Do not get caught. You will be killed. It is urgent you get out of town as soon as you can. The shack is safe for now, but that will likely change. It would take them a while to track the owner of the property back to myself, my shell companies would make sure of that. There is of course the chance that they ignore the need for a warrant. I have included as much money as I could gather at short notice, as most of my money has been invested in my stock market speculations. It’s only a thousand dollars, use it wisely.

Remember to get out of Mississippi as fast as you can. I’ll do what I can to divert attention away from you. I have heard of a school for mutants in New Hampshire, It is called Whateley, and is a safe haven. I will contact them about your situation, if I am able. They have connections that may be able to help you along the way. Remember, as a mutant without a mutant identification card, you must be careful. Also there is an amber alert out for you, and your fingerprints are on file in a database. Do whatever you can to avoid detection. Avoid trains, planes, and buses. Lastly, remember that I love you- now, and forever.

Yours most truly,

Suzy.

P.S. Destroy this letter after you read it.

Sammie folded the letter carefully and walked over to the bench. There was a metal trash can and some matches. Lighting the message on fire, he dropped it in the can and watched it burn. He thought of leaving a message for Suzy in the hiding spot, but upon looking about the room, he found nothing to write with. Sammie felt weak and hungry. He walked over to the fridge. There was some peanut butter and apples. In the freezer there were a couple quarts of ice cream and candy bars. Downing an entire quart of ice cream, and three apples dipped in peanut butter made him feel a lot better. Sagging back into the cushions, exhaustion hit him and he fell asleep.

It was another day before the fever totally had passed. Sammie’s muscles ached. Wobbling over to the fridge, he grabbed a Dr. Pepper. Looking at his thin, delicate hands Sammie put the beverage down. Taking off the sweaty scrubs, Sammie looked over her body and started crying. He had been in denial, but now there was no doubt about what had happened. Running his hands down his body, he cupped his now quite noticeable breasts, with the darker olive green skin around the now-larger nipples. His waist had pinched in, only to flare out again at the wider hips. He felt the firm, round ass and the biggest revelation his manhood was gone, replaced by a small nub situated over a seam in the skin. He carefully examined it, concluding that it was in the process of separating into what would eventually be his new genitals. There was no mistaking it. He was now a girl.

Sitting back down on the cushions, she cried. Her body wracked with involuntary sobs and gasps. She felt so weak. There was no tape measure present nor was there a scale. But if there had been, she would have discovered that she had lost nine inches of height, and roughly thirty pounds of body mass.

Putting the all too loose and very smelly scrubs on, she thought over her situation. She had no way of contacting Suzy, Sammie hadn't been able to get the number of Suzy’s cel phone, and couldn’t call her.  If the Sheriff’s department was still monitoring communications, the house phone was probably tapped.

That night.

Sammie was nervous as she snuck into the Walmart. There were lights everywhere, and with the green tinge to her skin, and inhuman eyes, she had to be careful. There was no passing for baseline for her, not anymore. She managed to find a dark corner in the automotive section to hide. Using her powers, she cloaked herself in the darkness and waited. The time seemed to tick on forever, finally the public address system announced the store’s closing in thirty minutes. People were making their final purchases and the store was rapidly emptying.

Hearing the last people leaving, and the doors being locked, Sammie crept from her hiding spot. Making a beeline for the clothing department, she sighed as she tried on boy’s clothing. It was either a case of the hips being too tight, or the waist too big. Saddened, turned to go try on clothing from the women’s section, but instead she had an idea. She had no clue as to what her measurements were. She could spend a lot of time blindly trying on clothes, and time was critical for her. Instead she headed for the fabrics section, and swiped a fabric tape, and began figuring things out. Pinning the tape to a wall, she measured her height. Four foot fucking nine inches.

She cried openly. So small and weak. Never the less, she had to keep going. Her mother had taken him along shopping in the past, and Sammie knew entirely too much about bra shopping. Trying several on, she found one that fit… A black 32C cup bra, while it was too lacy for her tastes, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Taking a few more, she stuffed them into a bag and kept ‘shopping’.

It was difficult to find pants that fit her waist and hips, at her small height, a 22 inch waist and 32 inch hips were easy to fit, but her height was the issue. She sighed and realized that she would have to settle for pants that were too long, and would have to trim them. Shorts were easier, and several pair found their way into the bag.  Socks and a pair of cross training shoes were next. Sammie knew she was delaying the inevitable, but she had been working her way up to the thing she dreaded most… panties. Trying on different pairs, she found a brand that fit and felt good, perhaps too good. They were soft and silky, and very comfortable.

Clutching the bag to her stomach, Sammie wandered the store, grabbing things she would need. Energy bars, non-perishable foods, a Swiss army knife, a compass, and various small tools made their way into her inventory. Through experimentation, Sammie had discovered that her cloaking field was limited to only six inches out from her body, so the extent of what she could take was limited.

Having taken what she could, she quietly hid the scrubs in a trash can, and sat down in the snack food aisle. Quietly she sat and ate, feeling quite ravenous. After a long while, Sammie glanced at her new watch, and sighed. It was a little after four in the morning. She had time to wait yet before the employees, surely.

However, it was not as much time as she had hoped. An hour later, the bakery staff arrived. Slipping out the doors behind them, she greeted the pre-dawn darkness with a grumble.

Across town.
Later that day.

Richard Haskins was fuming. He had been thinking about how everything with… Sam… had gone wrong. He had been lax on discipline, surely. The boy had been too soft. Too friendly with the mongrels, the niggers, the slopes, dykes, kikes, and fags that had infiltrated the school. Now he saw why. The boy was one himself. When the doctor explained to Richard that Samuel’s DNA was changing from male to female, and that their son would be a mutie tranny… it was the ultimate betrayal. And now it had cost him his job. Trying to get rid of the thing had lost him his job. When word reached Richard that someone had broken into the Walmart and stolen things, he was sure who it had been. Especially since a pair of hospital scrubs had been found in the trash.

The new sheriff – Richard bristled at that thought- had told him that the video cameras had shown no sign of the suspect, but items could be seen moving themselves and vanishing mysteriously. Packages of food had been opened and partially consumed. Richard suspected that the fingerprints would find a match in the database… Samuel’s.

Later that day he was told by his former deputy that Samuel’s fingerprints were indeed found at the store, but they were smaller than before. More proof that the bastard was now a bitch. Richard knew the airport, train terminal, and bus station were all being watched. Still, he knew that the girl would surely try to escape town.

Meanwhile, at the shack.

Sammie looked in the mirror and tears flowed. Having taken off her new clothing, she stood in front of the mirror that stood on one wall. Despite a crack running lengthwise along one side, it was otherwise usable. Turned away from the mirror, she looked at the plump heart-shaped ass, the curvy hips, and narrow waist. Her light green tinged skin was mottled with random patches of brown. The tops of her ears had taken on a slight pointed shape. She turned to face the mirror, her eyes quickly scanning past her large breasts with their dark green nipples/ Her attention quickly moved past the flat stomach to the seam that had formed at her crotch. It was starting to separate into what would eventually be labial folds. She figured it would be a matter of days before she would appear completely female in all regards.

Resigned to this fact, Sammie sighed and got dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants. Grabbing a Pepsi, Sammie hastily slammed down the beverage, The soda message now destroyed, she shook her head. Dusk was approaching, and her plans were set. She hurriedly headed for the river and she planned to sneak onto one of the ships present, hiding in the rocks and deadwood down to the waterline, she crept slowly…and promptly stepped on the clichéd dry stick. A light shone on her, momentarily blinding her. Unable to see, she was unprepared for the gunshot and when it hit her shoulder, she momentarily forgot to keep her cloaking field active.

Richard Haskins looked at the monster. The mutant tranny freak that had once… no, that had never been his son. Every subtle detail was etched in his mind in that one split second. And as the monster jumped into the river, he fired after it. He was unsure as to whether he hit it again, but it was wounded.

A riverboat had finished taking on passengers during the chaos, and was pulling away from the shore.  Nobody noticed in the dwindling light of dusk, but there was a faint trail of blood smeared on the bow, and puddles of blood and water formed on the deck.

Sammie crept through the hallways, her hand clamped firmly on her shoulder. The bullet had only grazed her, but it was still bleeding. Her biggest concern right now was the lighting. The ship was entirely too bright, and the distortion of her energy field would be able to be seen. This wasn’t the Predator, she didn’t have a dense forest to hide in. Carefully she stalked the halls, ducking into storage closets on a couple occasions to avoid people. Her options were bleak, but luck smiled upon her. She managed to find an empty cabin, and hid inside. Entering the cabin’s bathroom, she sat down on the toilet and rummaged through her now thoroughly soaked backpack. Taking out the small first aid kit, she stood in front of the mirror and took off her shirt, pointedly trying to not look at her female assets. Instead, she wiped the wound clean and put a gauze pad over it. It hurt, but wasn’t severe. Wrapping it with an ace bandage, she slid down the wall, ending up on the floor. The urgency gone, the dam that held back her emotions burst.

The tears flowed like a faucet, as reality reared it’s ugly head. Her own father had tried to kill her. She had never agreed with her parents, or their narrow-minded and bigoted viewpoints, but he had never disagreed with them, about their attitudes face to face. At school, and in private he knew some pretty awesome people that his parents would try to murder if they could. Her father had tried to kill her. Her. She was a she. Small and delicate. Everything that had made him… him was gone. Replaced by a tiny… what? Goblin? Was she still human? Standing back up, she looked in the mirror. The black hair with magenta streaks, the pointed ears, green skin and green tinted eyes. She certainly looked like some sort of fantasy creature.

Backing away from the mirror, she stepped on her shirt and slipped. Landing on her ass with a thud, the tears that had briefly stopped resumed once again. Unbidden, his mind wandered to Suzy. Would he ever see her again? Would she love her at all? Sammie still loved her, but could Suzy love her as a girl? Thinking of herself that way brought back the anxiety. She was a girl now. Was she now a lesbian? How would that work? Collapsing, Sammie cried herself to sleep. She awoke four hours later when there was a jolting lurch. The lights flickered and went dark. Summoning as much courage as she could, she cautiously crept from the cabin. There were passengers frantically running through the halls, trying to reach the outer decks.

The intercom roared to life, with the captain addressing the scared crowds. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking. I regret to inform you that due to low water levels we have unexpectedly hit a sandbar. Rest assured that there is no danger. We are not sinking, nor is there any danger of us doing so.     We apologize for the inconvenience, and a replacement ship has been dispatched, and should arrive in three to four hours. In the mean time, I would advise all passengers to return to their rooms until the new cruise ship arrives.”

Returning to ‘her’ cabin, Sammie sighed. She had hoped to be further away from Natchez, and her father by now.

The Haskins home,
Natchez, MS.

Richard was fuming. The thing had gotten away. His life was ruined, his job was gone… and with it all his under the table and back-alley deals. His wallet was going to take a big hit. He suspected that maybe the faggot had survived the fall into the river. With a jolt, he got up and ran outside to the RV. He had to get it ready as soon as possible. After a couple hours cleaning and packing Richard ran into the kitchen. “Doreen!” he shouted “Get your things together! We are hitting the road!”

Hurrying up the stairs, his wife Doreen quickly threw her clothing and necessities into a duffel bag. With a second thought, she turned and walked to the gun safe and got her Smith and Wesson, her prized antique Walther, and several boxes of ammunition.

Richard was lucky to have found a wife that shared his ideals. She was upset at first that her son had been a freak, but quickly came around to realize that the thing she had spawned was a blasphemy. It was at a Humanity First meeting where they had first met. Within hours, the RV was fully loaded and they handed off the keys to the house to her sister. 

With Doreen behind the wheel, Richard tracked the cruise ship. Fortune had favored him, as the ship had run aground on a sandbar. Calling the cruise line, he relayed the story of the suspected stowaway, with notice to contact the Sheriff’s office. His contacts there had labeled Samuel as armed and ‘dangerous’.

Meanwhile, on the ship

Sammie was out of the cabin, sneaking through the dark hallways. Passengers had been offloaded, and were waiting in the small town for the replacement vessel. She was hungry, and the opportunity was ripe for finding food. With the confusion, she had more of a chance to explore undetected.

Creeping down the hallway, she heard voices. Two men in cruise line uniforms were walking with flashlights, scanning the halls. “The captain said that we have a stowaway on board. They discovered their items in one of the third class rooms. There’s even been whispers of it being a mutant.” One man said.

“Right, and I’m the Easter bunny. Why would some mutie stow away? Sounds fishy to me.” The other stated.

As they walked away, a heavy feeling formed in Sammie’s gut. All her money and supplies were gone. All she had were the clothes she had on, which sadly, reeked of the polluted Mississippi. She had hoped to get further north, but now she had to get off the ship and run. Not knowing where she even was, she felt vulnerable. Running down the hall, she stopped at the exit to the deck. It was overcast, and a group of people were gathered near the Aft starboard-side of the ship. Keenly aware of the police uniforms they wore, Sammie started visibly shaking when she saw that they had dogs at their sides. The man and woman were canine officers, no doubt likely summoned to examine the ship for her presence. Seeing no alternative, the young girl turned and picked up her pace in the opposite direction. Now on the port side of the ship, she climbed over the rails and lowered herself into the murky water again. Swimming away, she clung to the shoreline. After a couple hundred yards, she pulled herself up and onto the bank, panting heavily.

With no clear knowledge of her location, all Sammie could do was head inland, and hope for the best.

Whateley Academy,
Schuster Hall

Samantha Everheart entered the office area, standing in front of the desk of Amelia Hartford. Looking up from her terminal the assistant headmistress took in the appearance of the officer in front of her. To anyone else, she would have seen a teenage girl looking out of place in her security outfit, but Amelia knew the Admiral’s history, and gave the veteran military officer the respect she was due.

“Admiral, Can I help you?” The older looking blonde woman inquired.

“We have a possible obsidian alert notification, albeit it’s coming from an unusual source. An anonymous e-mail has reported that a young mutant boy is in danger, and has been directed to the school. I’ll forward it to you. I was initially going to place it in the low priority investigations list, however, A.P.B. has been issued for an escaped mutant sought in possible assaults in Mississippi. The name is identical to our potential alert, however this subject is female. Further research has discovered that our mutant escaped from a hospital in Natchez, Mississippi. I pinged the IP of the initial e-mail. It bounced through various VPNs and proxy servers, tracking it through New York City, Riga, Latvia, Buenos Aires, Argentina and Bangkok, Thailand before tracing the source to… Natchez.”

Hartford frowned. It had to be Mississippi. Although there were heroes in Mississippi and Louisiana that would be notified of the alert, Amelia Hartford had little faith in them. Backwater hick territory in the deep south bred prejudices and low intelligence. Many H1 chapters had sprung up in the region, which was not surprising given how minorities were treated historically.

With a sigh, Hartford turned and sat back down in her chair. Diving into the internet, she quickly found the hospital records of the individual they were searching for. Samuel Bedford Haskins. She shook her head. Bedford… the middle name of General Nathan Bedford Forrest, notoriously known for both his serving in the Confederate army, and the Klan.

A few keystrokes were all that were needed to gain access to the boy’s records. What she read made Hartford frown. They weren’t looking for a boy… it seems they were looking for a changeling in an unknown stage of becoming a girl. That would complicate matters further. Relaying the data to Everheart, the assistant Headmistress could only shake her head.

Near Tunica, Mississippi

Sammie hid in the back of the pickup truck,  it had been a near thing, the dogs had picked up her scent after she had left the water. She had been an able swimmer back when she had been male, but even then  it was a foolish idea to try to swim out into the river too far from shore. Sure, she had heard that way up north you could actually walk across the river in places. This far south the river was dangerous; deep, swift and deadly.

Dusk was encroaching and when the truck pulled into a driveway, Sammie leapt from the bed and crept  to the local bar. Looking at the license plates, she spotted a pick-up that might help her get farther away. At least, that’s what she hoped the Tennessee plates meant. With her shorter stature, Sammie had difficulty climbing into the bed of this truck, but once there, she noticed there was a tarp that she could hide under. She didn’t really need to hide, what with her power, but it allowed at least a chance to relax a little.

An hour passed, and she dared peek from under the tarp. She had never been to a city bigger than Hattiesburg, but Memphis was way larger. Craning her neck, she saw the lights of the city growing ever closer.

When the truck inevitably stopped, She once again hopped from the bed and explored her surroundings. Sammie had to find a place to hide during the day, hopefully close to stores or other places she could scrounge supplies to hit the road again.

Three weeks later.
Memphis, TN.

Sammie sat in the abandoned house she had claimed. Curled into a ball, tears streamed from her eyes. She knew this had been coming, but had always tried to ignore it. There was no ignoring it now. The intense cramps had her whimpering and praying for it to go away. She felt light-headed, and gross, as the intense bleeding forced her to venture out. She had stuffed rags into her panties, but knew she had to get something better. Thus it was that she was hiding in the back of the pharmacy, waiting for it to close.

Her plan was simple, She would grab supplies, unlock the door, and slip out when the time was right.

Interlewd

Editor: “that’s Interlude”

Writer: “I wrote what I meant, you’ll see why.”

Aylene DeVoe watched the closed circuit footage from one of her businesses. The black and white surveillance video showed items falling from the shelf, and vanishing. She crossed her hands under her chin, and propped her head as she smiled. When the exit door opened, she switched to the parking lot camera view. A brief glimpse appeared on the video of a girl with unusual features. The blurry picture showed a small girl, with noticeable curves and pointed ears. Her skin was mottled with dark spots. A mutant, possibly as young as she had been when she manifested her own powers.

Closing her eyes, Aylene thought back to her own adolescence. She had been marginally taller than the girl in the video. Before her manifestation, she had been skinny and gangly, with bad skin, acne and braces and muddy brown eyes with dull frizzy brown hair. Going from five foot to five-ten within a matter of weeks, her figure filled out and boys (and a few girls) started to notice her. With her dark blue eyes and hair, she was stunning. Her discovery of her siren powers, heightened pheromones, and ability to change her reproductive organs allowed her to seduce anyone she wanted. Thus began her ascension in the shady underworld of Memphis.

Now a successful business woman, the twenty-seven year old smiled. The thought of this exotic and intriguing girl stimulated her. She wanted her, and would have her. A small moan escaped the brothel-owner’s lips. She closed her eyes, and felt the welcome bulge forming in her underwear.

Some days later.

Sammie woke up with a splitting headache. Things had not gone well on her latest store raid, but she was fuzzy on the details.  She remembered exiting the convenience store with a bunch of snacks, but then someone shouted something, and she felt an electrical jolt… and then nothing.

Blinking her eyes the blurriness started to come into focus, albeit slowly. The room was dark, with gray cinder block walls and iron bars, like some sort of prison cell. There was a shelf-cot and a stainless steel toilet and sink, with a metal sheet in place of a mirror. Beyond that, there was nothing else.

Hearing someone coming down the hallway, outside the cell, Sammie ducked into the corner and activated her power, fading into the shadows.  A tall blonde woman with piercing red eyes stood outside, looking in. “I know you are there, there’s no point in hiding.”

The woman reached into her ample cleavage and pulled out a small penlight. Shining it around the room, the beam found Sammie soon enough.

“I see, very interesting. Not true invisibility, rather the bending of light. Very useful, but not without flaws.” the nurse commented analytically.

Coming over to the corner, she grabbed Sammie’s arm in an iron grip, and hauled her to her feet. Sammie was pulled along helplessly, as they made their way to an elevator. It seemed like minutes passed by in uncomfortable silence. When the excruciatingly silent ride finally reached it’s destination, Sammie was shoved out of the elevator car, into another hallway. Unlike the first one, this one had windows, and Sammie could see the skyline of Memphis clearly. They were high up in a skyscraper.

After walking down the hall, Sammie was led through a pair of doors into an elegant penthouse. Sitting on a luxurious couch was a tall, curvaceous woman with cobalt blue hair and matching eyes that seemed to penetrate into Sammie’s soul.

“Well, well… It seems our little thief is here. And such a pretty one, at that.” the woman said with a seductive lilt. Sammie looked at the scantily dressed woman, and felt something stirring in her chest, something she thought impossible. She was captivated. Taking a deep breath, Sammie felt strange desires creeping into her brain. The woman smirked, seeing Sammie’s obvious confusion and discomfort.

“So, you dared to try to rob one of my businesses? That’s either ignorance or stupidity.” Looking at Sammie, she smirked, and Sammie’s heart fluttered. Something was happening. Something not normal. Turning to the naughty nurse, the blue-haired woman spoke. “Give her an examination, I think this cutie is going to stay with us from now on.”

“Understood.” The blonde replied.

Placing her hand on Sammie’s face, she spread her fingers. The inner nerd in Sammie would have said it was similar to the placement that Vulcans use on Star Trek, for the mind-meld. However, Sammie’s inner nerd was too busy staring at the woman in charge and thinking about naked Twister. Sammie’s attention returned to the blonde woman, as she spoke. “Laceration on the shoulder, scabbed over and mostly healed. Probably a near miss with a blade, or a bullet graze”

Sammie nodded, she had no reason to elaborate, yet she felt she wanted to tell the sexy woman. “Bullet grazed it.”

The nurse kept her hand on Sammie’s face. “Her hymen is intact, and no communicable diseases. Most likely a virgin. Recently had her period… interesting, her uterus and ovaries don’t match her overall age. In fact, her entire reproductive system is fairly new.” The nurse closed her red pupil-less eyes, and seemed to be concentrating harder on what she was doing. “Fascinating. Her bones show signs of recent re-calcification, and her muscles, ligaments, and tendons likewise indicate that they have contracted. Amazing. I had heard rumors of mutants that had undergone genetic and physical gender transition, but I had never had the chance to examine one before.”

“You mean she used to be a boy?” the captivating woman commented.

“Indeed, up until quite recently, I would say.” The nurse stated analytically.

Sammie sat there helpless, lost in her thoughts and fantasies, barely registering the conversation.

“Rached, you may go. I would like some time with my new pet. If she works out, I might put her to work. Now dear, what is your name?” The gorgeous woman inquired. Sammie had seen ‘One flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest’, and knew of the wicked nurse in the movie. That this nurse would adopt that as her codename couldn’t possibly bode well.

Enraptured by this sexy goddess, it took a moment to recall her own name. “S..Sammie.”

Looking over the teen, the woman shook her head. With her diminutive size, green-tinted skin, and pointed ears, an Idea came to her. “Too plain… I think I’ll call you… Goblin. Hmm… I’ll have them set you up a room in the basement level, and have it made up to look like a cave. I have certain… clients… that appreciate that sort of fantasy.”

With that said, the woman beckoned her to come closer. Sammie… Goblin… Nodded, and approached. Shew was lost in the rapture of her new mistress’ scent and the joy of her words.

Some time later.

Sammie woke up in pain. Her head was pounding, and she dragged herself to her knees. Her body was covered in bite marks, and her jaw hurt. Her breasts were sore, and she felt like she'd been ripped open from behind. She hurt elsewhere, but her brain did its best to avoid thinking about it. The memories of what had happened. She couldn’t understand it. She had lost control and fallen for the blue-haired woman. She hadn’t been superficial as a boy, finding girls of all sizes and shapes as desirable. Objectively, the blonde was ever so slightly taller, possibly about an inch or two. Her breasts were bigger, and she had more noticeable curves. And yet, she had no interest in her physically. The thought made Sammie panic and think about Suzy. Tears fell, as she thought about her lover. She would always love her, but there was a sense of panic as she realized she had lost her physical attraction to the best thing to ever come into her life.

Despondent over this revelation, Sammie didn’t even notice when the nurse entered her cell. She was startled when the deep voice of the nurse suddenly interrupted her thoughts. “Had a busy night, I take it.”

Sammie nodded meekly.

“Poor little Goblin. The boss broke you in hard, I see.” The nurse said in a less than happy tone. She sat  down beside Sammie and placed her hands on the teen’s face. After a few minutes, the pain subsided and she could think clearly.

“Why?” was all she could manage to say. Ratched looked at her. “It’s my job. I keep all the girls here at the brothel healthy and STD free.”

The word hit Sammie like a truck. “b...brothel?”

Ratched smirked. “Yes, and you are now one of the girls… that collar you have on? It has a micro-explosive in it. Disobey? Boom. Try to escape? Boom.”

Sammie hadn’t even noticed the collar. She reached to her throat and touched it. The leather band had a  silver skull ornament affixed to the front. That had to be where the explosive was. There was a buckle in the back that had to be wired to the explosive. So much for freedom. So much for having a life. She was a sex slave, that would be all that she could be. Nurse Ratched laughed as Sammie started to cry. When Sammie curled into a ball and hugged her knees, the six-foot tall blonde sauntered out of the cell, a smile on her lips.

Meanwhile, at Whateley Academy.

Samantha Everheart sat at her terminal, looking over the latest dispatches. A security camera recording caught a teenage girl running from a store in Memphis. What caught her attention was the girl matched the vague description of the fugitive changeling they were seeking.

Samuel ‘Sammie’ Haskins.

Estimated height: 4’9”

Eyes: Gray, with green sclera.

Noticeable features: green-tinted skin with brown mottled spots. Pointed ears.

Picking up the phone, Admiral Everheart dialed the main office. “Dr. Hartford, it’s Hive. The Haskins girl was sighted again. Memphis. No further info at this time.”

Amelia Hartford sighed. “Understood. I have Cyberkitty and Blue looking into it. I even considered contacting Petra Donner, to see if she could help with the search. Unfortunately, it’s not a needle in a haystack, more like a needle in the middle of Kansas. I will keep you informed if they find anything. In the meantime, send the info to the allied heroes in the area. Hopefully something will turn up. Keep me appraised of the situation.”

After hanging up, Amelia Hartford sighed. The tough bitch veneer slipped briefly as she silently wished someone would find this girl and get her to safety.

Interstate 55
near Coldwater, MS.

Richard Haskins drank his coffee as his wife looked over the road map. The motor home was parked at a truck stop while they searched for more information on the abomination that they had spawned. Reaching out to his connections in Humanity First, he had discovered rumors of a freak in Memphis that looked like what he had seen at the cruise ship. A small green girl with pointed ears and above average curves for her size.

“Doreen, when we find the thing, you aren’t going to hesitate?” he asked.

Putting down the map, and looking over at her husband, she responded. “If he’s a mutant, he’s no longer our child. Plain and simple.”

“She. The little tranny freak grew herself tits.” Richard corrected. Finishing his coffee, he swapped places with his wife, and started up the RV.

The Hedonist’s Paradise brothel
Memphis, TN.

Sammie lay in the plush, luxurious bed, pretending to be asleep, in the couple weeks that had passed, her mental state had begun to slowly erode. She listened, hoping to find some source of hope.  Delilah had called for the nurse, as she had each morning since Sammie had become the woman’s reluctant pet. They were arguing about Sammie. 

”What’s wrong with me breaking her in? She has to learn how to please customers… both male and female… if she is going to earn me money.” Delilah said emphatically.

“I think you are getting too attached to this one. It’s dangerous, Aylene.” Rached countered.

Delilah wasn’t having it.”It’s Delilah, you know better than to call me by that other name. Especially around the girls. You need to get over this jealousy. It’s like this whenever I break in a new girl.”

“This isn’t about my feelings!” the blonde woman said… perhaps a little too quickly.

”How would you like it… Claire? No, you would love it if I called you that. You know that I’m the boss here. I’m not going to indulge your fantasies, or your little crush.” Delilah said venomously.

Ratched scowled. “I’ve told you before, you bitch, it’s not a crush! I love you! You sleep with all the other girls, but not me.”

”Stop pushing your feelings on me! I don’t like you. You have the audacity to be taller than me, You have bigger tits, and better curves. I also know all about your sadism. You love to torture your clients, and then heal them. I am not some whimpering sub, no matter how aggressive my pheromones make my lovers.” The blue-haired woman screamed.

“You can’t deal with the fact that my healing neutralizes the effect of your pheromones on me, or that I can resist your vocal tricks.” The nurse screamed.

Sammie lay in the bed, silent, still pretending to be asleep. When the blonde exemplar effortlessly scooped her up and carried her out, she stirred slightly, still pretending.

They arrived at her new room, built to look like a dungeon cave. Her bed was carefully disguised as a pile of furs, and the sink, toilet, and shower all hidden in fake rock. She was no longer locked in, as the collar that had been strapped around her neck would beep if she got close to somewhere she wasn’t supposed to go. Under the threat of it blowing up if she tried to remove it, or if she attempted to escape, she was a prisoner in a very large cage.

Opening her eyes, Sammie looked up...straight into the glaring face of Ratched. The six foot tall woman stared down at the diminutive girl and spoke angrily. “It’s all your fault!”

Sammie curled up and put her hands blocking her face. “Please. Please don’t hurt me. I never asked for this. I just wanna go.” The girl was on the verge of tears.

Ratched sighed and shook her head. She gently placed her hand on the girl and let her healing flow into the girl. The bite marks and bruises faded, the various painful tears and wounds growing back together.

Sammie looked up. “Why?”

The older woman looked at her. “If you were to die, she would be suspicious, but if you escaped…”

Walking over to the hidden closet, Sammie opened it up and looked through it in dismay. Everything in it was designed for the planned fantasy of her being a goblin in a sex dungeon.  Leather corsets and bustiers. Fake leather armor, broken chain cuff bracelets and anklets.

 With a sigh, she dug out some panties and put on one of the bustiers and leather hot pants combinations. Some knee-boots and fingerless gloves were quickly added. Ratched beckoned her over with a wave. Reaching for the collar, the woman pressed a hidden switch in the skull cameo’s left eye twice, and the right eye once. There was a click, and the clasp disengaged.

Tucking it in her pocket, Sammy followed the nurse through the back corridors and halls, avoiding the cameras. Taking out a syringe from her bag, the blonde silently pointed to the back of her neck. The nurse silently mouthed “heavy-duty tranquilizer”. Sammie nodded and took the syringe and injected the woman, easing her to the floor gently, while leaving the needle in place. Cloaking herself, Sammie hid for hours, waiting in the darkness of the back rooms. When dusk fell, she slipped out and made her way to freedom.

Walking the streets at night, Sammie saw the homeless people congregating, looking through trash cans, crawling into cardboard boxes, and finding places to sleep. Eventually She found a vacant strip mall, and broke into one of the stores. Curling into a ball, she started to cry. She rolled over and vomited until there was nothing left to disgorge. Still dry-heaving, she was broken. The realization that she didn’t find girls attractive anymore had been a gut-punch, which was further exacerbated by the realization that after she was removed from the presence of the pheromones and siren powers, she had much preferred when Delilah had male genitals. Now she couldn’t get them out of her head. Unwanted images of all kinds of men, naked and ready filled her mind. She desperately prayed that it was from Delilah and she wasn't... a whore. The invasive thoughts persisted until she ultimately fell asleep.

The Hedonist’s Paradise brothel
Memphis, TN.

To say that Aylene DeVoe was furious would be an understatement. As Delilah, she had to maintain strict order and discipline. The collars were supposed to prevent escape, and she managed to use her persuasive powers to keep the prostitutes from committing suicide. When Ratched was found unconscious with the syringe in her neck, that control has slipped. She remembered when she had first met Ratched. Claire Draymond had been a pretty seventeen year old girl that had fled her abusive family in the Pacific Northwest. Realizing the benefits of having a healer in her new enterprise, she encouraged the girl to get her GED. When Claire reached her 18th birthday, Aylene sponsored her nursing school application. She trusted that the nurse had not betrayed her, it was that fucking goblin girl.

”How the hell did she remove her collar?” Delilah asked.

Ratched groaned, the large animal tranquilizer finally clearing her system. “I… I don’t know. Perhaps she had some secondary power, one she never openly revealed.”

Frowning, Delilah shook her head.”Send out the security teams, find that girl!”

Secretly, Ratched smiled as she turned away from Delilah. The girl was out of her reach, she probably had reached one of the properties that Delilah didn’t own, and she had the money and pre-paid cards that Ratched had slipped her. Once the brat was out of town, she could console her love.

The Haskins RV
Memphis, TN.

Richard Haskins swore and turned off the laptop. Someone was blocking his search for the creature. His search results came up empty, and the bizarre error messages he was getting frustrated him. Doreen had hopped on the second computer and was attempting to trace the source, but they highly doubted that the trace results were true. Why would someone from the Vatican try to stonewall him?

Picking up the phone, he dialed a number. It took some time for the person on the other end to pick up. “Connect me to the Chief, I have a priority request.”

The line was silent for a moment before the person on the other end spoke. The voice changer made their identity impossible to determine, they could have been young, old, male, female. “I’m here. Make it quick. I have other concerns to deal with.”

Richard hesitated. “I need the group’s help. I’m following a dangerous mutant that escaped my jurisdiction, and someone is trying to block my progress.”

The mysterious person took a deep breath before replying. “Let me guess, your online searches are being blocked by an IP in the Vatican City.”

Richard tried to keep the surprise from his voice. “Yes… How did you know?”

“Your target is involved with Whateley Academy, it seems.” The person on the other end responded.

“What’s that?” Richard was puzzled.

“A very dangerous school for mutants. Officially it’s a regular school, but in secret mutants from both sides of the morality fence support it. It has some very dangerous backers, like Lord Paramount and Dr. Diabolik.”

Richard ended the call and put his head in his hands. The little traitorous bitch had gotten him deep in some sort of mutant conspiracy, with danger on all sides. He had to find her and fucking kill her.

On a train bound for somewhere.

Sammie hid in the boxcar, among the pallets and crates. She knew that the most likely escape methods were being watched, but Wratched had suggested that she might be able to slip out of Memphis this way. While she didn’t like the nurse, she knew that she wanted her out of the city. Sighing and leaning back against the cargo, Sammie thought about her next move. It was even more imperative that she get to the school, and safety. She wondered about the road ahead. There would surely be more obstacles, but she hoped she would find allies and if she got lucky, she would be able to get there sooner than later. With a large yawn, she tucked herself in the corner. Shivering, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

Washington DC.
The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool

Nobody paid much attention to the man sitting on the bench. He had a bag of bread crumbs at his side, but the local pigeon population seemed to be steering clear of him. He had poisoned the local flocks enough times that they were starting to pick up on his being dangerous. Looking around, he saw someone approaching. The other man was crap at blending in, wearing a trench coat on a sunny day.

Mentally, he looked at the congressman and sighed. Politicians were dumb, and this one was no exception. The password was given, and the congressman sat down.

“So, I heard your project is setting up in Vermont. Why not in my district? I have supported the project.”

The old man looked at the idiot. “There are… reasons we want to encourage production in that area. I don’t care what you want for your district. Do you even know anything about the project?”

“I have heard…. Rumors. Some sort of weapon against out of control mutants.” The fool stated. “production of such a thing would bring jobs to my constituents.”

with a shrug, the older man looked down. “What do you know about Damocles?”

“Some sort of myth, right? Something about a sword.”

Sighing, the man looked at the pigeons, noting they still kept their distance. “Damocles was a peasant that came before the king. He questioned why the king was allowed so much power, when anyone could make the decisions for the kingdom.”

Cracking his neck, the man continued. “The King offered Damocles his position on the throne, and Damocles took it.  Looking up, he noticed that a sword hung over his head, suspended by a thread thinner than a human hair. He immediately relinquished the throne back to the King.”

The politician shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“To be a king, one must always operate with danger and uncertainty over your head.” the elder man stated. “Mutants are dangerous and unpredictable. The rest of us must maintain vigilance and keep them in check. Do you want such a target in your district, Congressman?”

The congressman shook his head and stood up. “I… think I have all the information I need. Good day to you.”

After the politician walked off, the remaining man pulled out a phone and hit speed-dial. “Yes, he was here.” listening to the voice on the other side, he nodded to himself. “Honestly? He’s an idiot.” after a few seconds he spoke again. “No, nothing too flashy. A car accident or the like should be sufficient.” Getting up, he looked around. “We have had some setbacks, of the original eleven, we have lost five. We will need to step up production.  I might have a couple candidates, they are hunting a mutant that is likely headed for the school.” The old man closed the phone and left, scowling at the pigeons.

Raleigh, NC.
North Carolina Railyards

Sammie stretched and felt her joints pop. She was hungry. It was several days ride from Memphis to Raleigh, with several close calls by inspectors searching the boxcars. Thanks to the shadows and her powers, she had managed to evade discovery. However, the trip had worn her down.  The constant use of her powers. The cold, the hunger, it was all overwhelming. Her stomach grumbled. Slipping from the train, she darted from one to the next, making her way ever closer to the gates.

Looking around, she clung to the shadows. It was a cloudy, dreary day and people weren’t about. Making it to a convenience store, she sat behind it in the alley, thinking. Her obviously mutant appearance would get noticed, and Sammie knew her parents had connections. If she appeared on security cam footage, they would probably find out somehow. Her problem was that she NEEDED food and supplies, and she couldn’t wait until nightfall. Creeping close to the door, she looked in. There was a tall man behind the counter, he was imposing, but had a polite smile, as he waved for her to come in.

Hesitantly Sammie entered, looking around. She stood with her back against the door, ready to bolt.  The mountain of a man smiled. “Come on in little one. You are safe.”

“Th...thank you.” she stuttered.

“Don’t worry, the cameras are off. My son is a mutant, You seem nervous. Is something wrong?” the old man asked, as he ran his fingers through his graying hair.

Sammie nodded. “Just… dealing with a lot, my parents weren’t… thrilled by my being a mutant.”  She walked through the store, looking around. Eventually she grabbed a packaged sandwich and some chips. With her little shopping basket in hand, she went down the aisles. She had to pack light, with the limitations of her powers, she couldn’t fill a backpack because that wouldn’t be covered by the narrow confines of her cloaking field.

Grabbing a slightly over-sized black hoodie, she put it into her basket, along with a pair of black sweatpants and a fanny pack. With a sigh, she also grabbed a pack of tampons. Although not needed at the moment, she was resigned to her new gender’s requirements. With a polite thank you, she handed over the items to the burly man to be rung up. After handing over the money and completing the reaction, she walked to the bathroom.

With a sigh, she removed the skirt. It was strange, but Sammie has began to become accustomed to the feeling of the leather mini, and the idea of wearing such clothes. But the sweats were far more practical. After putting them on and lacing back up her boots, she pondered the bustier she had on. She considered ditching it, but it was doing far too good a job of keeping her from bouncing all over the place. With the hoodie on, she left the bathroom, giving a wave to the man at the register. 

Leaving the store gave her another dilemma, She needed a place to sleep that night. She was above average in her physical development, but nobody would mistake her for an adult. Her diminutive size didn’t help either. That meant that motels were out.  Perhaps she could find an abandoned building, or something.

A couple hours later.

Sammie huddled in the corner of the condemned house. She heard the scuttling and squeaking of rodents. The cold air seeped in through the cracks and broken windows. She felt the tears threatening to stream down her cheeks. Fighting off the urge, she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head on her knees. Sleep came, and the nightmares followed. Running through the streets, being gunned down as her parents aimed their AR-15’s from the RV. She woke up several times through the night, and looked through the broken windows at the thin slivered moon. She didn’t know what her life would be from now on. But she knew she had to get to the school. If she made it, she would be free to talk to Suzy, a prospect she dreaded and looked forward to.

Just outside Charlotte, North Carolina.

Doreen Haskins field-stripped her handguns again, the fifth time she had done so that day. Her thoughts  wandered back to a simpler time, when she held her baby boy in her arms, it had been a grueling delivery. She had been in labor for twenty-three hours of sheer pain. All to give birth to a monster. The fact that she had loved the inhuman creature nauseated her.

Growing up, her father would give sermons about the evil that hides among us, and how Satan had created them to test our faith. Destroy the evil, lest it destroy us. The creature had once questioned her about how her father could be a minister and yet be in the Klan. Everyone knows that the Jews own the printing companies and edit the Bible to reflect what they want. You have to read between the lines. Richard had taken the belt to it, and the topic had never been brought up again. Sighing, she holstered her guns, and folded up the table, moving to the passenger seat of the RV. Her husband was in the diner, getting coffee and breakfast to go. They had lost track of the thing, but they knew its destination.

Whateley Academy.

Marissa Dawson sat in her office pouring over the papers before her. Notices for emergency emancipation, petitions for guardianship, and petitions for restraining orders. She had been initially surprised when Amelia Hartford had pulled her aside and asked for her help. However, when she learned the details of the poor kid named Sammie Haskins, she couldn’t refuse. She thought about what might have happened to Tansy if she had ended up with GSD. Her father surely would have abandoned her to her fate, just like this poor child had been.

She sat there for hours, scrutinizing the documents, making changes as needed. Amelia Hartford popped her head in, bringing a much-needed to go meal from the cafeteria, and a refill on her coffee.

“How goes the progress?” the assistant headmistress asked.

The blonde lawyer took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It’s tough. I looked at the file on the Haskins family. The father has connections in law enforcement and with his Klan ties, this kid HAS to be emancipated, either that or we have to get them into a safe permanent environment. I’ve written up papers for every contingency I could think of. Once they get here, we can file the papers we deem necessary.”

Hartford sighed. “If the kid gets here.”

There was silence, as both women silently acknowledged the sad fact that it was far from certain.

It was Hartford that broke the silence. “Still, we have had students like Bladedancer that have made such dangerous journeys with pursuers on their tail.”

Hartford left the office, and both women got back to work. They would get Sammie Haskins to the school and safe, no matter what it took.

The next day.
Raleigh, NC.

Sammie stretched and stood up. Her legs hurt, and she felt the kinks in her back. She needed to plan, to devise a strategy. She had to stay hidden, stay safe.  Dragging herself to the bathroom, she looked in the mirror. The short stature, pale sea green skin, the pointed ears, the inhumanly green sclera of her eyes. There had to be a way to hide. The hoodie helped, but it wasn’t fool-proof. Wrapping up, she headed away from the ramshackle building, and the slums that surrounded the rail yards. She needed information.

 She needed to plan… she needed an internet cafe.  It took her half an hour to locate one. Walking in, she looked around carefully. With her head down, and hood up, she walked to the counter. Mumbling an order for cocoa, extra marshmallows of course. She booked time at one of the desks. Logging into the computer, she paused for a moment. She wanted to message Suzy, with all her heart… but she couldn’t. Her father was connected, and Suzy’s e-mail and phones were likely monitored. Same for her mail. There was no way to contact her safely.

Turning her attention to her needs, she had to find a way to get to New Hampshire. She had to travel light. Anything she carried had to be able to fit within six inches from her skin. Her fanny pack helped, as far as carrying the money and credit cards, but space was extremely limited. So any mode of transport she took would require her to stop frequently to eat and recover. Looking through departure times and schedules, hopping another train was out of the question. No commerce transports in the right direction were due out of Raleigh in the next few days, and the ones that were due out after that were limited stops, meaning that she would be days before she could stop to get food, or even to just relieve herself. So, trains were out.

Sammie was at an impasse. No trains, no planes, no busses… she was close to tears, but she couldn’t give up. There had to be a way.  Hearing a noise beside her, Sammie looked up. A large, burly man sat down a couple computers away. He was gruff looking, with faded denim jeans, a scraggly beard and flannel shirt. The thing though that really got her attention was his baseball cap. It was red, with a semi truck on the front, and the words “Foreman Trucking.”

“Of course!” Sammie thought to herself. With renewed hope, she cleared all her history and logged off.  Hopping a bus, she headed to the outskirts of the city. Truck stops lined the freeway, twilight was falling, and unbeknownst to anyone someone was creeping from cab to cab, looking for travel logs and shipping destinations.

Russel Marks climbed into the cab of his Freightliner Argosy, he had a schedule to maintain. The cantaloupes were due in Richmond in four hours. Plenty of time to get there and check them in at the warehouse. Little did he know, but there was a stow-away in his trailer.

Sammie huddled in the corner of the trailer. Checking the crate nearest to her, she was dismayed to find that the melons inside were far from ripe. She had something though, she had hope. She had a chance, slim though it be. Time crept by slowly, seeming like an eternity. She felt the rumbling of the truck, the rhythmic sound of the road as the truck rolled on. Eventually the truck came to a halt. When the trailer doors were opened, Sammie cloaked herself, and as the cargo was off-loaded, she took the opportunity to slip out.  Ducking into the warehouse, she hid among the crates and waited. Night fell eventually, and she crept out of hiding. Sampling the various fruits and vegetables, she satisfied her hunger.  Dodging the guards, she made it to the bathroom and gave herself a make-shift sponge bath. Things were looking up. Sammie thought to herself, and smiled. She might just make it out of this, and into a better life.

Meanwhile,
St. Johnsbury, Vermont.
A top secret laboratory.

Adolphus Kreig smiled as he lay on the table. Tubes and wires randomly jutted from his body. The pain was excruciating, but he had volunteered for it. Anything to destroy the mutant menaces. His military training and expertise had made him a valuable member of the Navy Seals. He hid a secret, a family secret that went far back, all the way back to their homeland of Germany. A little pain was worth it, if he would gain the power, the strength, the means to not just wipe all mutants from the face of the Earth, but all lesser creatures. The Jews, the blacks, everyone that did not fit the Aryan idea. He was a sleep agent, an agent of change. A change for the better, a change for the future. A change that would bring upon the next Reich. Yes, the pain was worth it.

Reich turned his head when he heard a sound off to his right. Someone had opened the door and entered. “Greetings, Mr. Kreig. Welcome to Damocles. I trust you are well.”

Kreig sat up. “And you are?”

“Oh, my name is not important. It’s what I will do for you that is.” The man smiled as he picked up the bone saw. Kreig did not shed a tear, not when his arm was severed without anesthetics, not when they plucked out his eye. Not even when they plucked out his still-beating heart.

Time passed as Kreig lay there. His mind wandered. Back to memories of his grandfather, and sitting at his knee as the man told stories of his days at the camp. Stories of how he put the sub-humans to death. How he earned the nickname “Murderer of Mittelbau-Dora,”

Time passed. Memories of being 12 years old, shooting at the range with his father. Hoping for the day he got to shoot for real, taking down the real enemy. The sub-humans and the unnatural freaks.

Time passed. He was on his first deployment, Crawling through the sand and wastes of Afghanistan. He looked at His superior, Captain Goldstein. The two of them were out on patrol, scouting the outskirts of a village for rebels. He looked at his leader and nodded, letting the other man go first. With a smirk, Kreig pulled out his gun and shot him in the head. “One fewer Jew to poison the world.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled the wireless detonator that he had been hiding. With a flick of his finger, the hidden explosives detonated. Wiping out the entire village. A village of animals, not worthy of the name ‘human’ not worthy of mercy.

Adolphus woke up with a shock. Looking around, he saw the mysterious man.

“Welcome to your new purpose. I have a job for you.” He said.

Definitely NOT the End…