Chapter 2
<span style="font-weight:400">There was only so much time I could spend pouting, moping, and napping until reality caught up with me. While I couldn’t bepletely sure what Amber had meant by ‘next morning’ I didn’t want to risk guessing wrong.
<span style="font-weight:400">That meant either finding a way to transform back, or ‘borrowing’ some of her clothes, given that mine had vanished with my manhood.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’d wasted the entirety of the night, and now, at seven in the morning, two hours before I had to be at my first ss, I was scrambling for a solution.
<span style="font-weight:400">I considered googling, ‘help I turned into a demon,’ but I was paranoid that it would somehow get traced back to me, a surefire way to be ostracized from my church group and hunted down by my father.
<span style="font-weight:400">Other than that, I’d been praying endlessly, asking for forgiveness and for guidance. I hadn’t gotten a response yet, but it seemed like if there was ever a time to pray, it was now.
<span style="font-weight:400">Thankfully, despite it being around the time I usually ate breakfast, I wasn’t feeling any hunger – at least not that I was aware of. I was, however, extremely aroused, something that irritated me to no end. I knew better than to fall to the temptation of lust again.
<span style="font-weight:400">After precious minutes of no results, all while not knowing when Amber would return and kick me out, I changed strategies. <i><span style="font-weight:400">Perhaps I can try to control it, resummon my God-intended body with my mind.</i><span style="font-weight:400"> I knew that I was grasping at straws, but I had no other options.
<span style="font-weight:400">My focus turned inwards, imagining my body and all of the things I knew about it. There were the broad, bulky shoulders, the unwieldy height, the inconvenience of having a penis, but, most importantly, the <i><span style="font-weight:400">humanness </i><span style="font-weight:400">of it, the pale skin, theck of horns and tail.
<span style="font-weight:400">I felt my body shift in response to myst thought and I hurried over to the mirror to check the changes.
<span style="font-weight:400">Instead of what I’d expected, the body I’d known for twenty years, a normal-looking college girl stared back at me in the mirror. She looked every bit like the twin sister I didn’t have: pale, freckled skin and medium length red hair. The main differences were in her height, which matched the demon’s height, and her gender.
<span style="font-weight:400">It immediately stuck out to me how much her face matched that of the demon’s; I’d initially assumed that the demon didn’t look like me at all, but looking at her human version made the simrities more obvious.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Well, I suppose it’s progress in the right direction…</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">I closed my eyes and ignored the temptation to examine the image in the mirror further, focusing my thoughts on the things that still needed to be fixed.
<span style="font-weight:400">A few momentster, everything shifted again, and I opened my eyes to normalcy, my everyday body staring back at me.
<span style="font-weight:400">Ignoring the fact that I’d just shapeshifted, that I’d been cursed to have a demonic form, that my girlfriend had just broken up with me, everything was looking up.
<span style="font-weight:400">—
<span style="font-weight:400">The rest of the day was strangely normal – no one treated me any differently, despite the fact that I was a corrupted heathen.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’d gone to my chemistry lecture in the morning and had felt awful about not turning in the assignment, and now I was in my business 101 course, trying to keep up.
<span style="font-weight:400">I was only half of a semester into my degree and it was already wearing on me. The endless drone of the old man as he exined a list of self-exnatory vocabry with the emotional range of a text-to-speech program enticed my wandering mind to think about anything else, to dwell on the events of the previous day, the fact that I’d already started skipping assignments, or that I was one mistake from everyone finding out about my demon-ness.
<span style="font-weight:400">All of that meant that when the ss ended and my friend Chris approached me, I was startled when he spoke.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hey, man I heard–”
<span style="font-weight:400">I shot out of my seat, yelping in a voice that sounded more like demon-me than real-me. <i><span style="font-weight:400">I really need to think of a name for her so it’s easier to refer to her, not that I want to get used to her being around.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">Chris stared at me, concerned, for a moment before trying again. “Sorry,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I heard about what happened, major bummer, dude.”
<span style="font-weight:400">My heart raced.
<span style="font-weight:400">I stared back, feigning confusion, trying to figure out how much he knew.
<span style="font-weight:400">His brow creased. “Are you okay?”
<span style="font-weight:400">I remained impassive, “Yeah, everything’s fine, what’s the big deal?” I said a little too quickly.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Uh, your girlfriend just broke up with you… and that’s a bummer?”
<span style="font-weight:400">I blinked. “Oh. Yea… it’s a bummer, majorly so.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah…” He trailed off, looking at me curiously.
<span style="font-weight:400">I nced away from his face to look at his body. It was the same as it always was, but something about it seemed more present, more tangible than usual.
<span style="font-weight:400">Chris was a swimmer, but was not at all the norm for the group, especially around where we lived. Most swimmers here were tall, skinny, white, and had massive shoulders.
<span style="font-weight:400">Only a couple of those were true about the short, muscr man with tanned copper skin that stood before me. The dark freckles scattered across his nose stuck out, and despite his normal expression of a crooked smile being absent at the moment, he had a kindness to him that never went away.
<span style="font-weight:400">“So…” He swayed back and forth, looking for what to say, “Did you want to like hang out or whatever – help you get over what’s her name?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Amber,” I supplied.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah…” He nodded slowly, eyes never leaving my face, “Well, if there’s something you need just text me…” He gestured to his phone and hesitantly started walking away, like he wasn’t sure if we were done talking.
<span style="font-weight:400">I nodded and thanked him, excusing him implicitly in the process. <i><span style="font-weight:400">I wonder why he was acting so weird, he’s usually much better at socializing.</i><span style="font-weight:400"> I shrugged and started moving in the direction of my next ss. <i><span style="font-weight:400">Maybe I need to check on himter.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">—
<span style="font-weight:400">Later the same day, I waited in my dorm room for Chris toe over. We’d exchanged a few texts through lunch and our afternoon sses and eventually we’d agreed to hang out here during the evening. Thankfully, my roommate wasn’t around, although I did have to spray some air freshener to get rid of the musk of marijuana that lingered in ourmon area.
<span style="font-weight:400">I’d been keeping myself busy all day, preventing myself from having time alone with my thoughts, so once I was ready and waiting for Chris, the thoughts started to invade.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Am I going to turn back? If so, when? Is there a way to cure myself?</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">I had endless questions and not a single answer. The only options for getting more answers – talking to Amber about it, talking to a priest about it, or doing experimentation on my own – all sounded out of the question. So I’d just have to live with the uncertainty for now, live with the knowledge that at any moment I could randomly transform into that… <i><span style="font-weight:400">thing</i><span style="font-weight:400">.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">It still needs a name.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">I ignored the thought. It didn’t deserve a name.
<span style="font-weight:400">Another thing that sprang up once I had a moment to think was my arousal. While I hadn’t been walking around campus with a non-stop erection, my body had been oddly flushed and sensitive, and I caught myself staring at all the attractive people in my sses – the women, that is, I wasn’t attracted to men.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Not that there''s anything wrong with being gay, it’s just that </i><b><i>I’m </i></b><i><span style="font-weight:400">not allowed to be gay, because… well…</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">A knock echoed through the room, and for a moment I panicked, thinking my roommate had returned, before I remembered that he wouldn’t knock.
<span style="font-weight:400">I opened the door and let Chris in without a word, taking in his appearance again. He wore a sweat-stained tank top and exercise shorts, which made sense, given that he’d juste from the gym. He’d suggested taking the time to shower, but given that my dorm was right next to the campus gym while his was further away, near the poolplex, it made more sense for him toe straight here.
<span style="font-weight:400">The effect that I’d noticed earlier, of him appearing more <i><span style="font-weight:400">tangible</i><span style="font-weight:400"> than usual was more pronounced, and I could smell something sweet in the air, as if the sweat coating his muscles was actually a ze.
<span style="font-weight:400">I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thought. It was probably one of <i><span style="font-weight:400">her </i><span style="font-weight:400">thoughts, the one that didn’t deserve a name.
<span style="font-weight:400">We sat down on the futon couch – an old creaky piece of wood that was held together by splinters and duct tape – and stared at each other.
<span style="font-weight:400">After a moment of silence passed Chris cleared his throat. “So, how are you handling everything?”
<span style="font-weight:400">I jolted, thinking he <i><span style="font-weight:400">knew</i><span style="font-weight:400">, not for the first time today, but I quickly realized he was talking about the breakup, something I’d hardly had time to register. “Oh… You know how it is,” I said, waving my hand flippantly, hoping for him to fill in the nks.
<span style="font-weight:400">He leaned back into the couch, one arm draped over the back, and stared into the nk television across from us. “Yeah, I guess.” He said, sounding unsure.
<span style="font-weight:400">He continued a momentter, “I really don’t though, because I’ve never dated anyone, so…”
<span style="font-weight:400">I turned to him, surprised, “Really? A handsome, kind guy like you? Girls must ask you out all of the time.”
<span style="font-weight:400">He blushed, turning away for a moment. “Yea, that’s the issue, I’m more into guys.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh.”
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Don’t be like your dad, don’t be like your dad, don’t be like your dad.</i>
<span style="font-weight:400">“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” I told him.
<span style="font-weight:400">He snorted, stifling a fullugh. “Uh, yea, thanks for letting me know…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“No problem,” I responded absentmindedly, mind still stuck on all those poor women that asked him out only to be rejected.
<span style="font-weight:400">Another shake of my head banished the strange thoughts in my head and bottled up my feelings. It had been getting harder and harder to control my thoughts throughout the day, something that was surely <i><span style="font-weight:400">her </i><span style="font-weight:400">fault, and maybe Amber’s too.
<span style="font-weight:400">After another long moment of silence, Chrisughed to himself. “You know, it’s kind of funny,” he started.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I used to be into you,” he told me, stillughing a bit.
<span style="font-weight:400">My mind honed in on the important part. “Used to?”
<span style="font-weight:400">He shot me a sly grin and leaned his shoulder into mine, pressing part of his warm body heat into me. “Why, you disappointed I’m not still into you?”
<span style="font-weight:400">I tried to lean away, but found myself trapped against the armrest, my hips sliding towards him instead and my back falling down onto the seat. “Uh, no…” I stammered, trying to figure out why he felt so warm and why he smelled so good.
<span style="font-weight:400">I gathered someposure. “I was just wondering what changed.”
<span style="font-weight:400">He tower over me, giving me his crooked grin, “Well, it turns out you aren’t my type, personality wise, “ he shrugged, “You’re still damn cute though, so if you ever want to experiment…” His grin grew wider and he leaned in, not close enough to actually kiss me, but well past the point where the idea was forced into my mind.
<span style="font-weight:400">The heat I was feeling built, and before I’d figured out what it was, there was a ‘pop’ and I reflexively closed my eyes as my body shifted.
<i><span style="font-weight:400">Oh no.</i>