This is a new story about a SHAPESHIFTER
The lore is mostly pulled from the show Supernatural with influences from Norse mythology. I claim no higher or better knowledge on shifters; I just liked this particular brand of lore. And if you ever want to discuss lore, PM me because I know nobody who likes it D:
The First Time I was someone else
I didn’t make much progress. Dusk rolled around on the heels of fleeting, golden air. I had sat in the park all day, by a tree, and tried sorting through everything. All I managed was that I was not a monster; monsters kill and I would never kill anyone. I also managed to get a better handle on my thoughts, but that was a hard point to sell. If I kept my eyes closed too long, I’d slip into Kailtin’s heart and see things I never intentioned to see. Somehow, I knew if I took a stranger’s skin, it should be easier to separate. I wouldn’t have all the connections that bind me to Kaitlin. It’d be a harder, more painful transformation, but to be able to master my own thoughts will be worth it. I was sick and tired of craving Cheetos every fucking hour.
I had also come to another conclusion, which came last and just as the Sun was a thin wafer above the horizon. I would find someone who had money; probably some suit who was traveling. I planned to head to the nearest airport, truss the poor bloke up, and leave with his skin and luggage on his flight. Then I’d drain a bit of his bank account and slew my skin. And if I got that far, then I’d pick a new one, skip town, and start over somewhere else.
My breath was ragged again, harsh in my ears. I could feel panic slip-sliding along my insides like vomit. It was acidic, burning, and noxious; it was of my own design and disease. I swallowed hard, drilling into my head again that this was my life now and no amount of wallowing under a fucking tree in a fucking park could change it.
The plan, though, sounded insane—ludicrous even— because where could I fucking slew my skin without someone noticing? I would need to hide from cameras and I had no experience with that. If I planned on borrowing a guy, which I really was considering because they’d be less trouble, I couldn’t use the treasured bathroom-stall method. Unless I went into the airport a guy, which I decided was my best bet.
After a bit more pandering, I ducked into a coffee shop near campus and bought a latte. The crowd was heavy even if it was evening. I watched as customers came and went over the edge of my cup, keeping a stronger eye on one of the baristas. His name was Daniel Caprisi. I met him before and he was nice albeit a bit dim. He was also once an interest of my friend so that he could recognize me and would talk to me if prompted—a worthy consideration in a crowded location. I considered maybe borrowing his skin, but then just the right guy walked in. He was a young professional who obviously just got freed from some office and needed a caffeine buzz to cap his day off. I could also see his car parked outside, a nice blue Honda, and I sure as hell would bet he had a GPS.
“A Venti Mocha.” The guy ordered, swiping a hand through medium length, tawny locks. When his blue eyes swept the room, I made sure to meet his and offer a smile. Suddenly I was very glad it was Kaitlin I was wearing because she offered the nice mix of charm and coy that I could use to my advantage. A bit of me roiled at that thought, the little voice that was the old me screaming ‘I shouldn’t do this’, but what choice did I have? Lose a few morals for a few hours and then have the rest of my life to live virtuous. It’s a conclusion I had come to, although a bit unconsciously. It was a conclusion I swallowed bitterly as I followed the young professional out the door.
I suppose luck was on my side because he saw me walking after him. He didn’t look annoyed, a bit perplexed perhaps, but he smiled regardless as I got closer. “Hello,” he offered, hand hovering over the driver door.
“I know this is going to sound weird,” I started out and then nearly bit my tongue because saying something sounded weird generally meant it was. Maybe a few years ago a guy would buy this crap, but with the stranger danger anthem of popular media, I doubt he’ll buy my spiel. Even as his brows knitted together, face turning guarded, I continued sweetly and nervously. “I was just hoping to get a lift. I—god it’s silly really—I got a ticket and they took my car to the impound.” He nodded his head curtly, hand easing off the door handle but his body didn’t move away from the car. Well, it was a start. “You see, I go to the college so none of my other friends have a car and the bus doesn’t run that way. I know I could get a cab, but I can’t afford that and the impound fee.”
A smile cracked his features, and I mentally sighed in relief. There was dirt on the edges of his personality, I could feel it, and that meant he wouldn’t have all the moral drama Kaitlin was currently shoveling onto my buzzing brain. He could make the meantime bearable. “So you just sat in the coffee shop, cruising people for a ride?”
Okay, that did make me sound like a freak but he didn’t look put off, merely intrigued. I smiled, calling upon the flirtatious gods: “No, I just saw you and you looked nice,” his eyes prompted me on with a smiling lilt, “real nice and I thought—hey why not.”
He nodded, approving, and then twitched his head towards his car. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride—my name’s Ryan by the way.”
I beamed as I crossed the distance, slipping my hand into his. He shook it firmly and his fingers brushed my wrist in the ghost of a touch. “Name’s Kaitlin,” I returned and took up my place in the passenger seat.