The very moment I utter the word, every fiber of my being froths with discomfort.
I feel wrong, violated, as in a short period of time my cells lather with suds, combust and deconstruct.
Weirdly or not, I sense no pain, only a pang of dread creeping up on me. The scarce spumes and faint foams soon vaporize.
It tingles. So much so that I involuntarily let out an empty laugh.
I laugh and laugh as my hair falls long, straight silk, dead dry, and as black as dark matter.
The chest expands beyond my wildest imaginations, wobbly, and the skin pales further, pallid. So white it’s almost gray, bloodless.
Though the creepiest of all are my mushy eyes. They are black. Not just black like my shirt, but irises so dark there are no pupils in sight.
The features of my face sharpen also, bony and angular, my nose a button, lips thin and rose, and eyes but pools welling with miasma straight from Uncle Satan’s outdoor jacuzzi located at the ninth level of Hell.
I turn to Michi and watch her admiringly look me up and down, her mouth mildly agape.
“What about a cool outfit?” I ask. “At least a cute one? At least something?”
Of course it’s what matters the most. Not the fact that I just became a gorgeous beauty, or well, a goth girl out of nowhere on a gloomy Monday afternoon, but that I don’t get a glamorous dress in pair with it.
“Whi would you get one?” she finally responds after scrutinizing my proportions.
Stares blankly at my face. “How funni.”
“What’s funny?” I ask. Though why ask? Of course it’s funny. Everything is funny.
She points at my voluptuous breasts. No, her eyes are there, but her finger gestures toward my neck.
Looking down, I catch a sight of a pendant in the shape of a heart. The shape just like Michi’s.
Though the color is black, and of the pink there is only a crack going down from the middle in the shape of a lightning, branching, signifying a broken heart.
“Envi,” she says thoughtfully. “You are a Mirmidon of Envi.”
Envy? Really? I don’t see how that fits me. Sure, it suits me more than love, but surely still there is more variation out there.
So what now? Do I open an Onlyfans account?
“What magical power did you get?” she asks, crosses her arms. “You have just awakened. But the abiliti you have now will be the crux of your development.”
Magical power… oh. Ohhhhh~
Hahaha…
I smirk. Then grin. Step forward.
“I don’t like that look,” she says, gulps. “I’m starting to believe the miths that everi mirmidon wielding dark magic is evil down to their core…”
I press my hands against her forehead whilst closing my eyes.
“Mimica interiōris,” I chant. The wacky feelings assault me once more, my mind soggy.
“How do I look?” I ask her. “Ani good?”
She stares at me, speechless. Jolts back, the books fall over her, Tolkien protruding her empty skull.
“HOW?!” she shrills, her voice trembling in an echo. “THIS THIS IS UNTHINKABLE!”
How lucky of me to have no neighbours.
I finally got back at this rat. Serves her right.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Right, I would feel the same if someone were to copy every inch of my body.
“Mi magical power is to copi other magical girls,” I say in a haha. “Down to the minutest detail! Their looks, their abilities, and even their voice!”
Though I don’t have to keep up with the broken accent. Still, I’ll omit that part for dramatic effect.
I look back at the mirror, at my red devil eyes, silvery hair covering my gargantuan forehead, and the shirt that goes all the way down to my legs.
I mildly pinch my ears and it feels soft, comfy.
Everything suddenly looks bigger than it was before.
I have to say, out of all the three bodies, I like this one the most.
“You-you-yo…” she mumbles gibberish.
Ahh, the sweet taste of victory. I glance back and— huh?
Her face burns almost as red as the color of her eyes, her breaths shallow.
Is she ashamed? Knowing her, no. Then, is she…
She treads toward me, embracing me dearly in her arms. Presses the side of her head hard against mine.
Ah, I see. She’s turned on.
How did such a narcissist come to wield love?
“Can you stay like this like forever?” the rat murmurs into my ears politely.
Disgusted, disturbed, I turn back into a goth as my shoulder hits her head. Push her away as she flails to the mattress.
She stares holes through me, unfazed. “This isn’t bad either.”
I wish to turn into a man and use the power of masculinity against her, but I don’t want to become a frog because of her magical bullshit.
“If you want…” she squeaks, her face redder than her eyes, lips shaky, ears as straight as a pole and as hard as a rock.
“You can do mi anithing you wa-want…” she stutters.
So my wife is a whore. Wonderful.
I’m not in the mood to fuck around though.
“So how does this work? Why do I need these powers in the first place?” I ask. “Michi said magic is coming to the Earth. Does that mean danger?”
She remains shut, immobile, savoring my body with her tearful eyes.
Michi is without a shadow of doubt the weirdest person I’ve met beside myself. Possibly also the most perverted.
She just lies there, dysfunctional.
I raise a hand and brush my chin.
Let’s think… a magical girl falling over my head, stealing my pizza, stealing my body, me stealing her body. Yeah, great. No idea.
From this knowledge, I can infer that she likes boobs and loves pizza. No shit, Sherlock.
She did say something about the trials though… Let’s look inside my mind…
Ah. So that’s how it is. To unlock more abilities I need…
Devotees?
The fuck?
I need people to love me, to devote themselves to me.
Not necessarily romantically. Platonically works too.
The more people worship me as a character, the more powerful I get.
To hell with that! I’m not opening no Onlyfans!
Because how else is good-for-nothing me supposed to attain followers?
Followers… Followers…
Now that I’m thinking, hunger is getting to me.
Leaving the lustful rat behind, I leave the room, head toward my kitchen-adjacent living room as I march through the hallway.
So, followers…
What about doing social media? No, that’s only love on a superficial level. If I want to obtain quantitive and qualitive followers…
Why do I even bother? How did I suddenly get invested in this?
Entering the grand room through the big, doorless frame, my eyes immediately fall on the rabbit stranded on my balcony.
Beyond are trees, leafless forestry. Isn’t it April already?
Near the entry are sofas and the televisor opposite each other. I pass through, almost falling on the fireplace due to the fucked up centre of gravity.
I secretly switch to Michi’s body. It’s not that I like being a girl.
Just as I was thinking, I don’t care about gender.
But I love being… small and… perceptive.
My sight has improved, my hearing sharper than ever before.
Besides, I feel less sadder? It’s as though taking an antidepressant that actually works.
I reach for the fridge, halfway realize that there is nothing inside.
Walking toward my computer set-up on a small kitchen table, I sit behind it and grab the Ipad, scroll through before I remember where the food delivery apps are.
There is a glaring discount on a nearby Italian restaurant…
Wait. Am I not overcomplicating things?
I smirk sacrilegiously. Motherfucker this is it.
Guess I’ll have my first devotee soon enough.
My very first apostle. My first preacher of the gospel of Dave the magical girl.
?
