ShapeShifter - Prologue

The change had almost destroyed me this time, teeth, hair nails all fighting the shift in genetic make up, dark turning to light and light to dark, becoming every twist and turn in the background, becoming every colour and scent and texture. It was far from the first occasion that I had felt this abstract change in my appearance, in fact the minor details of my everyday attributes changed on the whim of my fancy.

The reason this time was causing me so much pain, the reason I now felt the cold hand of death reach in for my life force and nearly drag it from my chest, was the harsh realisation that I no longer wanted this. I no longer wanted this ability or curse. Shifting appearance was a notable skill, one, which very few people knew I had, and therefore one that allowed me to shift gracefully out of trouble.

I knew she was watching me, her blue eyes staring into the ones she fell in love with and watching them disappear before her. No longer would she stare longingly into the face of the man she fell in love with, but soon the reality of my original form would stand before her and hope to be loved in the same delicate manner she had my refined appearance.

The last time I saw those blue eyes, I saw them filled with tears, shining beacons drowning in their own misery watching love fall away from her.

Then everything went white.

Usual circumstances involving death, and prose written on the subject will inform you that everything goes dark. In fact, in my experience of the matter it does not. Everything seems to lose colour but burst forth this energy all the same, every atom molecule and genetic design of everything around you near and far seems to burst forth all at once, it feels hot and cold and the pain feels out weighed only by the intense pleasure of the final release from life.

Before death, no one can ever know the true bind life is.

With every detail swimming around me, I saw every detail of myself that I had changed slip away, the many colours of my eyes, the numerous changes of hair colour and every muscle not increased by physical exercise fell from me and blanked out within the white nothingness before me. I was finally me, and the hands of life were reaching out for me once again, pulling me back to existence, back to her.

I fought it at first, struggling against invisible fingers digging into my ribs, broke against nails biting into my skin that were not there, then it got too much, not pain exactly, that had all but disappeared in the brilliance of death. It felt like a hard blanket of steel on my chest, like squeezing back into a hard tube, the bind of life.

That was the point I saw her again, my old, non-perfect vision falling into place, weakened arms and legs held me up that I hadn’t felt for years and I drew myself to he height I had been years ago, before the curse.

She had changed too, her skin had a pallor befitting a corpse, her eyes lacked the lustre they had previously, even her pain seemed distant and unreal, this world seemed drained to me now, experiencing the beauty that was death had paled my view of this world it wasn’t as bright as I remembered.

She was searching, eyes and mind to find the one she loved, to her, he had simply disappeared into space and time and I had reappeared spluttering and not as she remembered me. That was “Frank” this was “Mike” every change I had made so far, every major rearranging of my appearance had brought along a name, There had been five, five different personalities, five different looks, five of me.

She had been there through them all. As Frank, I had allowed myself to finally get close to her, to finally share every feeling all five people I had been had shared with her, I wanted to give her it all.

I looked up at her for the first time, skinny, tall and with imperfect vision only to see the tears reappeared in her eyes. “you.” She whispered, “It’s You!”