Author's note: If you like music while reading, literally just turn on the Hotline Miami

soundtrack. That fan-made radio station for GTAV (Nightride) works well too.




I cleaned the grit out of my nails with my teeth. I may have resembled a 16-year old girl for over a week and a half now but some masculine habits remained. no one in the club seemed to care. That was commonplace here. I ran my eyes across the crowd. The old me never came here. I was too busy making sure my earnings were properly laundered. Funny now that I think about it. I spent so much time worrying about all this money, I never ended up using it in the way I dreamed about. As for my most recent acquisition, I used one of my text-only contacts to get the bills split up and circulated. The guy in question, Darnell, is a bit of a slow-mover. I'm only getting three-grand from him a week but it should be enough to live by.

"Hey, can I buy you a drink?" A lull in the house music allows me to hear someone's voice.
I look up from my fingernail-cleaning. The person in question must be rather brave:
They're hardly what a girl, or a guy would call attractive. Notable beer-belly, eyes are
too close together and his hair looked like a mouldy mop. Of course, when free drinks are
on the line it pays to be polite.

"Thank you, I'll take a Rum and Coke. What's your name, by the way?" Fuck, I wish I was
able to be this smooth with girls. I've started to vet my porn folders in case my gender
of choice changed. There's just something uncomfortable about a man's mind masturbating to
men; regardless of whether he has a girl's body or not.

"It's uh, Forrest. Yeah, like that movie." He smiles confidently. Maybe he's already taking
some dutch courage. Or, maybe, I should really start believing that looks tell little about
a person. As a living example of that fact, I shouldn't be so hypocritical. Back onto
porn. I'm starting to notice that ever since all this shit happened, the buzz hasn't been quite the
same. I doubt it's the technique-Google and incognito mode are helping me learn. The feeling is
there but there was one action I have done that gives a much greater sensation of pleasure.
Sucking the blood out of Pete Smith the police officer's body was the single most
stimulating sensation I've ever experienced. This is coming from a guy who once waited
three weeks between jacking off just to see if it was more intense.

"Oh yeah, I've seen that movie." I smiled. "Though, I'm sure you aren't as... Well, 'dim'
as he was."

"Ha, no, no!" His laugh was throaty and genuine. If Santa Claus were a real person, I'd
say this guy could be him. "Right, so it was a Rum and Coke right? I'll get one for you."
I nodded and he disappeared for about a minute or two. The DJ of the club changed tracks to
what sounded a lot like "Funny Little Frog" by Belle & Sebastian. Didn't suit the
club's theme. I believed music at a club is like serving wine at a party. You start with
really good shit, like Merlot from the previous decade. After that you just fill the
glasses with the shit bought from your local store. Their drunken taste buds can't tell
the difference. Forrest-not-Gump returned holding a tall Larger glass and a shorter glass
filled with a dark black liquid. On the rim rested a small slice of lime. I was more of a
lemon person, but again: wine at a party.

"So, Forrest." I began to sip on my drink. The rum didn't overpower the coke like club
drinks usually do. I remind myself to tip the bartender before I continue speaking.
"What are you doing in this club? Do you have some friends I can meet, or are you by
yourself?"

"Billy no-mates, unfortunately." The expression confuses me for a second. Forrest clearly
sees this as he explains. "Alone, by myself, me, myself and I. I don't mind so much, it
means I can go where I please and meet new people, like yourself." I watch him as he
drinks his Larger. He's clearly experienced with first impressions. He keeps his head
level and lets the glass pour the drink into his mouth. I give him a wink to see if I can
catch him off guard. Impressively he doesn't flinch and instead gives his eyebrows a
raise. Jesus Christ almighty, is this what girls are processing when they meet a guy? It's
hardly fun yet it is interesting to gauge his responses.

"That's a mature way to look at it. You know. People don't often buy me drinks often,
perhaps I can find a way to thank you tonight? I revealed a fang in the smile I gave. It
was probably too dark to notice. It appeared that as I drink, my ability to mask my wings,
fangs and razor-sharp hands is weakened. Parts of the veil began to slip. He doesn't
respond verbally, but my other senses show me he was clearly intrigued by my proposition.
That same red pumping sound stood out among the noise of the club. Lub-dub, lub-
dub it went. I was close enough that I could pick out individual veins and
arteries flash red as fresh, delicious blood pumped into them. I was in for a tasty
meal, it seemed.

"Well, uh... I mean, sure but you don't mean the old hanky-panky do you?" He asked. "Look, it's obvious that I liked you because that's why I'm talking to you. Don't you think you can thank me in some way that isn't so invasive?" I was almost shocked
by his response. I would never turn down a body like this as a guy, not that I ever got
the chance. I guessed that his heart was bigger than his dick. If anything that was great for me.

"you're right, that was a bit too forward. How about a kiss and a hug then?" I pulled my
cutest look. It was the result of three hours of facebook-stalking my old high school
pupils that didn't remember to remove me yet. If it worked I would have myself some fun in
only a few minutes. Of course it worked. His eyes widened, his heart beat even faster now.
I stood up and beckoned him to follow me with my index finger like a true siren.
Being a club, there was a convenient back door into the adjacent Alleyway. I was quite
aware that the Alley was my domain now.

Darkness. Sweet, sweet darkness. No city mayor would ever waste money lighting places he
couldn't tax. Forrest has a few beads of sweat on his forehead. Perhaps he was still
afraid that this was some elaborate scheme. The kind of scheme that would theoretically
get me pregnant and put him in a shotgun wedding. He didn't have to worry about that. What
was coming was far more deadly than a shitty marriage. "I hope here's okay, Forrest. You
seem like the kind of Gentleman that prefers privacy." Damn, my social-engineering skills
were all aces tonight. Pupil dialation and maybe, maybe a slight bulge in his jeans confirms this.

"You're right about that. Don't you think it's a bit much though, being in a dark alley
just for a snog?" For fuck's sake Forrest, why did you have to use all these foreign
terms? Getting past his unique vocabulary, I placed a hand on his shoulder and began to
draw him in. I felt the veil falling apart now. My wings began to extend and stretch
from being cramped up so long. The mundane skirt and shirt I had been wearing grew and deformed into the dress and jacket I have been cursed to wear forever. My Mars pistol appears in its holster and my fangs came to full extension. Forrest had not yet realized but he was already dead.

That's when I was tripped over. Something had silently wrapped around my right leg and
jerked backward. This knocked Forrest out of my grip who then cried out and pointed behind
me. I truly thought I could hide from them. That fucking Teddy-bear.

"Get away from him, you monster!" A girlish voice called out to me. The object wrapped
around my leg went limp and I could stand up to face my hunter. Green eyes, with matching
green uniform. It looked like a business suit crossed with a ballet dress. I wondered if
she was a he a few weeks ago. It didn't take me long to notice a few key factors on the contrary.
She had some slight indentations near the bridge of her nose. Her mundane self must wear
glasses. Her hair was short and wavy, it was auburn. Glasses, green eyes and auburn hair.
Those three in combination caused the metaphorical light bulb above my head to flash
brightly.

"You've taken from my family something that can never be returned." I spent most of her
speech fiddling through my pockets. I found what I was looking for just as she said "It
told me what you are and what you did, I'm here to eliminate you." Pete Smith's wallet was
in the same condition I found it. It's a good thing the pockets on my jacket were micro-
portals into my personal hammerspace. There she was. Pete Smith and Emily Smith, together
in the photo. Now Emily stood in the alleyway and wanted me dead. Not to mention she had magical powers, too.                 This proved an interesting situation.

"Here, I believe this was your Daddy's, Emily." I chucked the wallet at her. In the time she
wasted catching it I drew my Mars pistol and fired off two rounds into her. It had been a
while since I fired it. The first short skimmed over her shoulder and the second
shot, which was not compensated for recoil, impacted the building behind her some 20 feet
up. Emily was not not impressed by this. She drew a short sword with her left hand while
pointing directly at me with her right. Now that I was fully transformed, I could see the
object that grabbed me much clearer. It was a collection of belts, the kind you wear to
keep your trousers up. They were buckled to each other and they formed a rather impressive
daisy-chain that quickly headed towards me. I leapt up using my wings as they were
intended, I saw the belts darting just beneath my feet before I hit the ground.

"You fucking bitch! Or, should I say dick?" Emily cut me deep on that one. I was
determined not to let her kill me now. I channel my inner mana and ready myself to attack. 						I casted a wall of wind to hold back the belts that will probably attempt to
protect her. After which, I called upon two porcelain clones of myself to sustain a time
spell on Emily. It wasn't enough. The ground shook beneath me and my clones shattered as they toppled over. 						I shift my mana over to enhancing my own speed. Clearly I had neglected
my control over time. I barely managed to miss a sword strike after she charged me. This
did give me the opportunity to strike her, though. I caught the left side of her face with
my claws. The strike knocked her backward but not to the floor. "I'll wear this scar with
pride once you're dead!" She growled through her gritted teeth. It was then I saw a single
drop of blood run down her cheek. It reminded me of how she ruined my chance of a blood
meal- I could feel instinct taking over my actions already.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT IS THIS?" Oh, right. Forrest was just standing there
frozen by terror. Even now, he still wasn't running. The battle taking place was eerily
quiet now, despite Forrest's screaming. Occasional gunshots, stomping of shoes as I use my
wings and feet to climb and leap of a building wall. Emily's belt chain makes
whipping noises as she orders it to try and hold me down. It feels like the only sounds I
could perceive now were those associated with violence. I couldn't hear mine or Emily's
grunts as we struggled to attack each other. I didn't hear my claws screech as they dug
into Emily's arm. I did hear the ripping of flesh and the scraping of bone. Strikes
however, are rarely bought. Usually they are trades. In my focus on attacking her, I leave myself
open for her belt-chain to contort around my right arm around the elbow. Moments later, a
loud snapping sound comes from it Immense pain shooting through my body follows it.

Our engagement slowed down. Attacks were slower, methodical and less mindless. I summoned
more clones to attack her. Unlike me, their shooting arms were not broken. Bullet holes
appeared in Emily's thigh and hip just as quickly as my clones were turned to dust from
her sword strike. I just managed to strike her with my left claw. the wound on her hip
widened and blood squirted out onto my cheek. A quick lick revealed a much harsher taste
than Emily's father. Perhaps it was the adrenaline ruining the flavor? "You can run away
you know. I won't hunt you." I attempted to reason with Emily. I was hurt.							 I knew it would heal but both Emily and I were in pain. No words. There were only
more strikes from Emily. I truly had enough and I had a plan. I channeled all of my
mana into a single move. The Alley worked as a perfect wind tunnel to focus my blast.
I pushed Emily into the widest part of the Alley. "You'll need more than that to hurt me you
piece-" It was at this point I both wept and grinned from ear to ear. I had readied a door
to my Hammerspace about 10 feet in the air. From it, my Fire-red, '89 Camaro flew out of
the door straight down and onto Emily.

The Camaro is dead. A bright flash appears from underneath it. Forrest has taken off and
will probably call the police. I am not eager to face yet more combat. I limp over to the
Camaro's husk and see a pair of legs poking out from underneath it. Instead of a green
skirt the legs are wearing khaki shorts. A pair of black, thick-rimmed glasses lay to one
side, one of the lenses was cracked. "Fuck, I've really done it now." I mutter to myself.
Killing Emily solved nothing. She could be brought back or the fucking Teddy-bear could
just make more like her. I had to leave this city, make use of how easily I can blend in.
Anything to avoid something like this again. Without mundane transport I carefully extend
my wings and take high flight. I'll use one of the communal safehouses that I know about.
Hang around for a few days, then I'll find out what to do.