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Chapter 15: What Did I Get Myself Into...?
And there I stood. Face to face with the one scientist that looked like he belonged in a gym as a spotter instead of somewhere intelligent people worked. My exit wasn't going to happen. I'd lost my one opportunity. Game over.
“Alright, we gonna do this the easy way, or--” he began, looking ready to knock me back should he need to.
“No need to even finish, man,” I said, turning and starting down the hallway. “You win.”
He caught up with me in a hurry, walking side by side with me as we started to head back towards my room. “Win?” he asked, confusion in his voice. “And what exactly have I won?”
“My broken spirit,” I sighed, keeping my head down. “You've beaten and battered me down enough, there's practically nothing left. You so desperately want me to be a woman, despite the fact that inside I'm still a man, then fine. I'll give you what you want.”
“Look, little one, I never said that. We never wanted to crush your--” His words were cut off again as we neared the hallway I'd neglected to go down.
“What's that sound...?” I feigned ignorance, trying to act as confused as West looked.
“I don't know, let's go,” he replied, starting to head down the hall. He stopped, realizing nothing was holding me back, and reached back, grabbing me roughly by the wrist and dragging me along.
“Ow, hey! Not so rough!” I scolded, but he didn't listen. His goal was to prevent me from leaving. He swiped his keycard to the room the fight was happening in, and almost as if on cue two of the girls flew out, slamming directly into the doctor. And as they did, my arms slipped right out of his grasp.
As the three of them tumbled to the ground, I realized this was it. Fortune had finally smiled upon me! I turned and darted down the hallway, hearing the commotion behind me. The last thing I heard was West, calling into his radio. “Security, get here now, we've got one running!”
But it was too late. Thanks to Betty's distraction and the fight overflowing into the hallway, things looked bright, and I ducked into the now empty elevator. As the doors closed, I looked out and saw the ever familiar security guard and a few of the doctors, including Chilton himself, trying to cut me off. But it was too late, the doors were closed and the only elevator in the establishment was taking me back to the surface. I was gonna be free!
The elevator ride felt like the longest one ever, like I was traveling up 500 floors, but finally the doors opened to an eerie sight. It was the salon I hadn't seen in... months...? How long had it been? I couldn't begin to tell you, but seeing the moonlight creep into the dark building was a welcome scene, and I rushed up and unlocked the back door before bolting outside.
I shit you not, fresh air had never felt so wonderful in my entire life.
The night felt wonderful, and I found myself screaming at the top of my lungs, laughing like a maniac. It was about that time that I realized that they'd be hot on my heels if I didn't start running. I rushed out of the alley that I was in, trying to think of how I'd get back home. I walked for what felt like forever (but was practically only about fifteen minutes), before I came across someone.
A grungy looking older homeless man who reeked of alcohol was pushing a bicycle along. His clothes were tattered, and he wore a blanket over himself like a cape or jacket. I needed to get away faster, and so I approached him, a little anxious as I spoke to him. “Hey, sir, I need your bike. I'll try to bring it back to you.”
He looked over at me, then back at his bike. “Ah'll shell it to ya fer fitty bucksh.” If whiskey were a gas, he had practically air vomited it all over me. I actually coughed at the fumes, his speech incredibly slurred.
“I... I don't have any money...” I said sheepishly.
He looked me over, his eyes constantly squinting and widening, as if trying to focus. His gaze rested on my breasts. “Well... Ah think we can werk shomthin' out...” He licked his lips, chuckling quietly.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Seriously...?” I asked. He shrugged, and began to turn back to his bike. I panicked, looking about and seeing no other option readily available. “Alright, alright! Fine... Just your hands, just my tits. And I get the bike.”
“Shirt up,” he demanded, cracking his knuckles with each excited squeeze of his fists.
I groaned and obliged, lifting my shirt. My face reddened as I felt my nipples get a little hard from the fresh night air, and wanted to crawl in a hole as I heard the drunkard excitedly giggle at the lovelies before him. I'd suddenly feel his hands roughly grab each of my breasts, the rough texture of his fingerless wool gloves scratching against my nipples while his fingers kneaded my boobs hard.
“Geez, not so rough...” I whined a little, feeling like an idiot as I continued holding my shirt up. He ignored me, squeezing and groping away, his calloused fingers sliding down and roughly gripping my nipples. He squeezed them painfully, tugging on them roughly, making me whine and cry out noises that sounded far more sexual than I wished.
“Ya like dat, don'cha?” he asked, proud of his work.
“Not really...” I grumbled under my breath. That's when I felt one of his hands slide down my slim belly towards the waist band of my pants. I slapped his hands away, jerking my shirt back down and shoved him away. “Hey! That was not part of the deal!” He started to charge at me again, so I did the noble thing.
I grabbed his bike and quickly started to make a getaway.
“Hey, that'sh not how thish wash shupposed ta happen!” he shouted after me. “Ah wash shupposed to trick ya and do more!”
I felt dirty as I rode that man's bike down the street, feeling cheap and used. My breasts still hurt from his rough touch. And my pride would hurt more as I'd make it about two blocks further to find a bike propped up against a building, practically begging to be taken. What an awful experience...
But that's alright! Because things were about to be better. I had escaped hell, and was on my way back towards heaven. Or as close to heaven as one could get, anyway, when trapped in a body you never asked to have. It had been what felt like forever, but I was headed back to Clarissa, my Clarissa, the only bright light that left me with hope.
During the assaults, during the rapes, during the negotiations and sex pacts and tests and tortures... Through it all, one thing kept me whole. One thing kept me from wanting to end it all. And I'd finally get to see her again.
I rode that busted bicycle all the way back to her house, dropping it on her front lawn. I took a few deep breaths, trying to regain my composure. And then I made the long walkway up to her house, climbed the three stairs onto her porch, and knocked on the door loudly.
And she opened the door, her beautiful face seen by me for the first time in ages. It was just like my dream.
Except, simply seeing her nearly choked me up, and I couldn't speak right away. I just stood there like an idiot, almost gawking at her, simply happy to set my eyes on her again.
“...May I help you...?” she finally asked me.
“I, uh, y-yeah,” I stammered, before clearing my throat. “I've really missed you.”
“Um, I think you have the wrong house...” she said, looking around, likely making sure she wasn't being pranked.
I started to panic. What do I do? I have to let her know it's me. “It, it's me,” I said, before shaking my head. “Here, let me show you...” And without properly explaining myself, I leaned in and kissed her right on the lips.
And it was wonderful, and magical, and everything I wanted it to be.
...Until she shoved me away.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell?” she asked, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. “I'm not a lesbian, you're at the wrong house.” She started to turn to step back inside.
“Wait, Clarissa, no! I'm not!” I cried out, making her stop and look back at me even more confused.
“Hey, babe, who's this?” a guy's voice called from inside, before he walked up behind her. My jaw dropped at the sight of him.
Chad McLassiter. A guy that made my life a living hell through middle school and most of high school. He was like a jock that wasn't good enough to make it onto the football team, so he just kinda wore a Letterman jacket and hung around with the rest of them. He was stacked, a bigger guy, and always went out of his way to make fun of me or embarrass me in front of the student body.
What the hell was this asshole doing in my girlfriend's house?
“I don't know who she is, she just kissed me for no reason,” Clarissa said, looking up at him.
“Oh, sweet! Maybe we can try that threesome we talked about.” Threesome...? Wait, was Chad McLassiter talking sex with my girlfriend?!
“What the hell is CHAD doing in your house?!” I couldn't help but blurt out, catching both of their attention.
“Yo, sugartits, I'm her boyfriend.” I nearly lost it. I froze up, clenching my teeth and trying not to murder someone on my first day out in the real world.
“But what about me?!” I shouted, ignoring Chad and looking at Clarissa. Seeing he was no longer being talked to or about, Chad wandered back inside.
“Lady, I don't even know who you are...” she said back to me, and started to walk inside.
I knew she wouldn't believe me at this point if I said who I was, so I tried a different approach. “What about Sam?!”
She froze. Finally, she'd understand me a little better now. I let out a sigh of relief, but must have missed the anger that was clearly visible on her face as she stormed up to me. Before I knew it, I took a hard slap to the face. Stunned, I looked at her, and she was seething.
“Don't you try to guilt trip me, bitch! I don't even know who you are, but you're not worthy enough to speak his name!” I had never seen Clarissa like this before, never in my life. Even when we fought or had arguments, she had never exploded like this.
“But Clar--” I began to try to reason with her, but she backhanded me, and hard. Her knuckles caught me right on the cheek bone with enough force to throw me off my balance, sending me falling down the steps of her porch. I landed hard, my head slamming back against the concrete sidewalk leading up to her house. God, I hope that's not a concussion.
She stormed down each step with fury, before standing over me. She grabbed my shirt by the collar, lifting me up and slapping me again. “I didn't do anything to him! We went to a salon two years ago, and he ran off before I got back! Next thing I know some skinny little police officer comes up to my door and tells me he's dead! And you think you have the nerve to talk to me about him?!”
My eyes widened, despite the beating I was taking at the hands of my girlfriend. “Two years ago?! D-DEAD?!” I shouted, only to take another backhand, straight to the mouth.
“I've had police at my door day in and day out, interrogating me, questioning me, watching me... I've been arrested for the murder of a boy that meant the world to me, a murder I didn't do! A murder they couldn't pin on me because there wasn't any evidence to do so, because I loved him, and he's gone!” She gripped my shirt with both hands now, lifting my face closer to hers as her voice got low. “And you want to come up here, try making out with me, criticize me for who I'm dating, and bring up the most stressful situation I've ever dealt with?”
“Clarissa, I--”
“No, fuck you! Get the fuck out of here, or I'll call the police on your crazy stalker ass!” She stepped back, which gave me the perfect cue to scramble up to my feet and back away.
“...I'm sorry...” I said as I backed towards my bike, feeling myself choke up a little.
“Yes, you are sorry,” she said to me as she backed up towards her porch. “You're one sorry, pathetic person that needs to bring up drama like this to make herself feel better.” She turned back towards her house, running up the stairs to head back inside. She was unable to hide a sob before slamming the door shut behind her.
And I did the same. I sobbed as I got on the bike and pedaled to the only other place I could think to go. I rode my bike home. I could hardly see where I was going as tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision and streaming down my face. I finally got to my front yard, throwing my bike down on the edge of the sidewalk and running up to the door.
I opened it up, finding it unlocked, and looked around. I knew my folks wouldn't recognize me, but I figured I could just run up to my room, maybe I could explain myself in the morning. I ran upstairs, bursting into the bathroom and closing and locking the door behind me. I sat on the toilet and cried, maybe for an hour or more.
Being back in my house, oddly enough, felt surreal. It was nice to finally be home. But it felt so incredibly different, as well. Like I was someone new, someone on the outside looking in. And I knew it wouldn't be so nice having to explain to my parents who I was. But at least they'd likely listen to me; they had plenty of experiences that only they would know about me, having raised me and all.
I finally stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a wreck. My hair was messed up, the back of my head was throbbing, my cheeks were bright red from the slaps they took, and I was unaware I had been bleeding from one of my nostrils. Great; I got my ass kicked by my girlfriend.
Or, I guess, my ex-girlfriend.
Just thinking those words to myself set me off again, and I was a whirlwind of emotions, bawling once more. And each thing I thought about had me crying harder. Why Chad? Why did people think I was dead? How had two years really passed? And WHY THE FUCK DID SHE CHOOSE CHAD?!! That fat-headed piece of shit probably still had no idea how to tie his shoes, how could anyone have any sort of positive emotions towards him?!
I finally regained control of my emotions, and cleaned myself up. I headed across the hallway back to my old room. It was just how I left it; my game collection was still there, same posters on the wall, even the same comforter on the bed. I laid down, taking a deep breath and trying to relax, before the entirety of everything hit me hard and all at once, leaving me to cry myself to sleep.
“Ma'am...?” I had heard off in the distance from my dreamless sleep.
“Excuse me, ma'am...?” I heard again. I peeked through heavy eyelids to see some strange woman in a suit in my room, along with a very confused looking couple behind her.
“Huh...? What...?” I grumbled, sitting up on my bed.
“Ma'am, you can't sleep here,” she said to me, looking back and nodding to the couple, the latter of which left the room for a moment.
“And why the hell not...?” I asked, shooting this well-dressed woman a glare.
“Because this house is up for sale.” The news hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked her over, seeing the name of the realty company on her name badge.
“Wait... what?!” I asked, looking around my room. My stuff was still in there!
“After their son was found floating face down in the river, the Harris' have had a hard time living in this area,” the realtor explained to me. “This house has been on the market for eight months now, they've moved away just over a year ago.”
“Moved away...?” I clenched my teeth hard, feeling those stupid emotions returning. I cleared my throat, looking back at the woman. “But what about my room...?”
“This room belonged to their son, Sam. Well, before his girlfriend killed him and threw his body in the river.” The realtor shook her head. “They couldn't bare to change it or take anything along with them, so they decided to leave it for the next homeowners to do with what they please.”
I felt my emotions overwhelm me to the point that I felt empty. I stood up and nodded, not saying another word to the woman before stepping out into the hallway. The couple were apparently in the middle of touring my house. Now I had nowhere to live, and my home was going to be sold to someone else.
As I walked downstairs, I noticed all of the pictures were gone. The furniture was slightly different, likely to help boost the value of the sale. I stepped out of my house, noticing the “For Sale” sign in my yard I had missed in the dark the night before. The bicycle had also been hit by one of the cars, no longer rideable.
With a heavy sigh and heavy heart, I started to walk back to town. My hope was shattered. My will was gone. There was nothing left for me. Everyone thought I was dead. My girlfriend is dating the one guy in school I hated more than anyone else. My parents moved away to God knows where... What was left for me?
There was only one place I knew of. And a thought came to my mind. I could end it all. I didn't need to continue living in this kind of hell anymore. Dr. West had told me something months, or apparently YEARS, ago; if I tried to go through the same process that changed me into the bombshell I was now, I wouldn't be able to handle it. It would kill me.
And that's where I had gone to in my mind. Suicide. And while I used to fear death, it seemed like the only answer for me now. And so, I returned to the salon.
I opened the door and headed straight to the back, towards the chair I was in before. Dr. Wright was messing with the computer, when she looked up and saw me. Her eyes widened, the redheaded woman completely in shock. “Sammy!”
“Goodbye, Dr. Wright,” I said emotionlessly as I stood in front of the chair, leaning forward and slapping a key on the keyboard. I apparently hit the right one, because before I fell the lady scientist started to panic at what I had done. And I fell through the dark on the terrifying slide that would lead me to my death.
And when I finally hit the bottom, I stood up, looking around the dark room. I heard a door open somewhere, but it was too late. I had already stepped forward and felt the shift of the floor beneath me. As I embraced the end, I suddenly felt something slam into my chest with intense force, hurling me backwards. I opened my eyes, and was horrified at what I saw.
Dr. West had run into the room and shoved me out of harm's way, the machine instead grabbing him instead. I could hear the other scientists' panicked cries over the intercom system into the room, unable to stop the machine as the two blocks slapped around him like a mold.
“NOOO!!!” I shouted and ran over, trying to pry them apart despite hearing them lock. They burnt my hands, way too hot to the touch, but hearing West's screams wasn't going to stop me. “SHUT IT OFF!” I shouted, still trying to pry the blocks apart to no avail.
I felt someone pull me away, looking up to see Dr. Hutchison had grabbed me. I was unaware of how burnt up my hands were, and together we were forced to endure watching the head mount close around West's head.
“Michael!!” Hutchison cried out, before looking over at the glass where the others were at. “There HAS to be some type of emergency shut off!”
“We didn't create one because this type of shit shouldn't happen to start with!” Chilton yelled back as he stepped into the room, glaring a hole through me. “If we unplug it now, there's a chance he'll die in there!”
And shortly after, the human mold casings unlatched and pulled away, and Dr. West was no more. In his place was perhaps one of the most gorgeous blondes I'd ever seen in my entire life. And she slumped limply down to the floor, landing in a pile much as I had years before.
“Get her up, get her up!” The group of them rushed over and scooped up the gorgeous woman and carried her over to make sure she was ok. I sat there in the room, now depressed, lost, and filled with guilt to top it all off. A few seconds later, Dr. Wright rushed into the room.
“Sammy, you're alright!” she cried out as she rushed over and hugged me.
I sniffled softly, shaking my head. “But... But Dr. West...” As I stared at the floor, I heard her gasp, realizing what I had meant. She helped me to my feet, gently rubbing my back.
“Come on, we'll worry about him shortly. Let's get you a little bit of rest, ok?” She walked me towards another room, bandaging my hands up with a first aid kit, before heading back to my room, the two of us in complete silence. I think neither one of us knew what to say about the situation. As we reached my room, she swiped her badge, the door opening. “Think you'll be ok from here on out?” I nodded and stepped into my room and she rushed off to check on her colleague.
I did everything I could to keep from sobbing once more, slumping on my couch. A million thoughts rushed through my mind when suddenly I made a connection... Clarissa said a skinny little cop had given her the news of my death. They must've also spoken to my parents as well! And then I thought back to the day that Chilton had walked into the lab dressed as a police officer...
Chilton had posed as a cop to tell my family and girlfriend I was dead! He had basically erased me from existence!
As I sat there in shock, trying to think of how he managed to plant a decoy body that looked like me in the river, I glanced up towards the door to find someone standing in the corner of the room, waiting for me. “B... Betty...?” I called out.
“Nope,” the voice called out, and as she stepped out of the dark corner, she revealed herself. Busted up, bruised, and bandaged, Roxy slowly walked up to me. “Time for a little payback for your little stunt last night, kid...”
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