Void Guardian 1.2

    Impact 1.2

    I spend probably a full minute staring at the space where the disgusting thing used to be before slowly coming to the realization that it's gone and I'm on my own for how to deal with this. I take stock of my situation. Dead girl, severely damaged car, and I'm still in this stupid costume. There isn't much I can do here now. Best I can do is clear the road.

    I grab the water jug out of the back of my car and rinse my windshield and grille. The blood's not gone, but it's mostly washed out. There will be bits of it stuck up in the grille, in the engine, in odd cracks. I've seen CSI. My hands shake a little as I slosh the jug around. Someone could come down that road at any minute. Should I just run?

    I toss my glaive onto the roof rack and step into the car. I have to adjust the seat as far back as it will go, and I'm still a might cramped. Fucking Japanese cars. I've clearly gained some height here. I pull quickly to the side of the road, just forward of a bunch of roadwork equipment and kill the engine. No, I can't run. Cover this up as best as I can. At least it won't lead back to me. Well, the me that has a family.

    I walk over to the girl's body and heft her up. That's far easier than it should be. I've lifted insensate people before, and 'dead weight' is called such for a reason. I'm definitely stronger as well as taller. I half-drag her off the road and look around. This road is being repaved – I eye the giant pile of gravel with some thought and look at my glaive. Is it supernaturally sharp, or just a normal polearm? One way to find out. I take a deep breath and steel myself against my revulsion at mutilating a corpse. Pressing the blade down on her arm with a small amount of force yields results both disappointing and relieving. The blade meets resistance and bites into flesh like a regular blade. On one hand, I don't have to dismember the body... on the other, I still have a corpse to dispose of.

    I eye the ravine a hundred yards back. It's deep and there's wild boar around. Not a huge number, but pigs will eat anything. It's my best option at this point.

    I drag her down the road, praying that nobody comes around the bend as I do this. I lean out over the edge of the guard rail and toss her tiny body into the ravine. My heart twists and I feel uncomfortably guilty as I watch her form ragdoll down the slope and disappear into the underbrush. Sorry little miss. I'd like to give you a proper burial, but time is of the essence here.

    I return to my car and yank the sword from the front of the grille. It feels odd. It doesn't resonate with me the way my glaive does, but I can feel something is different about it. I toss it into the backseat and throw a blanket over it. As for my glaive... I should be able to just detransform. That's a thing magical girls do. I squint in concentration but fail to revert to... actually, what would I revert to?

    I sit down in the driver's seat, contemplating the question. The way that pink horror implied I couldn't be a father anymore puts paid the notion that I'd be reverting to my old body like some kind of Starlight. If I'm a lady through and through, what do I look like? With that thought I feel it click and grab at my rearview mirror to check. I reorient it toward my face just in time to watch my transformation fade, my appearance shimmering as veils strip away and reveal the new me.

    My skin has darkened quite a few shades, leaving it somewhere between a permanent tan and light brown skin. Slightly longer than shoulder length dark hair, and a light spray of freckles across a prominent but attractive nose. I have a strong jaw, but my cheekbones are high and stand out. My eyes are almond shaped – lacking an epicanthic fold but still somewhat exotic. Their former hazel has shifted to an amber. A glance down reveals I'm wearing a stylish skirt and button-up combo and that my size isn't related to my powered form. I'm HUGE. In more ways than one, as I realize I can't actually see my beltline by glancing down.

    I look back at my face and study it a little closer. On a second look, it's clear that I've been de-aged as well. You check ID's for half a decade and you get to notice the signs of someone being underage. I have no crows feet, no laugh lines. My face is just slightly too rounded – holding onto the last vestiges of late teen baby fat. I scowl. I might be able to pass as older with some work. But a discerning eye might still out me.

    I return the mirror to its position and check the roof – the glaive is gone. A more thorough examination of my new body can wait. I drive away, the engine sputtering and coughing as the heat gauge starts shooting up fast. Car's got a punctured radiator, so I won't get far. I don't need to though. I know of a couple places nearby that tow for improper parking – this car can rot on a private tow lot until they sell it for scrap and the cops will never make the connection. I pull into a private loop of road and park right on top of the white NO PARKING stenciled on the asphalt. I step out and pat my pockets. My knife, keyring and money clip didn't survive my transformation. Thankfully my habit of leaving my overlarge phone in the center console paid off here. I retrieve my phone from between the seats and grab my satchel from the passenger seat. I grab the blanket wrapped sword from the backseat and hoist it over my shoulder before walking away.

    I know where I can crash. I think. There's a house being remodeled nearby – nobody lives there, but I know it has power and water because of the power tools, drywall and tile in the carport. It's early Sunday morning – no workmen will be coming. I can crash there for the night.

    As I walk, I try to think about what I'm going to tell my wife. I compose a text as I go, heart hammering as I try to strike a balance between enough levity to keep me from freaking out and getting my message across with enough gravitas to make her take me seriously. After 15 minutes I stare at the best I've been able to come up with.

   	Hey babe, I have good, bad, and ugly news.
  	Good news, I did get a new job like I'd been talking about.
   	Bad news, it is going to largely take me away from you and M,
   	Ugly news, I can't say no and it doesn't pay that much more.
   	Long story short, I've been Santa Clause'd.
    	Text me when you wake up.”​

    My eyes blur a little as I push send. I don't want things to be done between us. I love my little girl and I love my wife. But I don't know what's going to happen between us. I don't know if we'll stay an ‘us.’ I banish thoughts about possible futures with dark outcomes to the back of my mind.

    First things first. Shelter.

    It's another ten minutes before I get to the old house. The magic sword might not be supernaturally sharp either, but it is supernaturally durable, and does a passable job as a prybar, letting me lever open the back door. I curl up in a closet with my blanket and fall into fitful slumber.