Season of the Bitch - Day 1 of 13 [Wicke TG/TF]

     Lady Ebony Darkness [true believers remember her from my FIRST public story] sat alone in her room writing her latest journal entry for her followers. “Welcome back to my realm of darkness and shadow.” She narrated during typing. “I am pleased to report that the upsurge in recent chaos is more than enough to justify my dark rebirth into a true harbinger of despair. Channel your energy towards me in a river of misery…” The journal draft abruptly ended when an uninvited guest opened the pitch black room’s door.

“Ashley, lunch is ready!” The illusion broke instantly: the LADY OF DARKNESS lives with her mother in upstate New York state suburbia. “I made your favorite version of mac and cheese.”

    “Uggh, get out of here. I’m TRYING to commune among my coven.” ‘Ebony’ replied indignantly. “You know how much this outlet means to me! I’m a tortured soul who lives to torment others to fulfill the Chaotic One’s whims.”

    “I know this is all just a phase while you try to get over art school not working out. Some light will make you feel better.” No, she didn’t plan on that, did she? Osiris please don’t do THAT! “Why are you treating this room like a dark room when you aren’t even a photographer?” Her mom deliberately jerked on the shade causing the predictable effect of resting the pull out of reach. The blinding sun forced ‘Ebony’ to avert her eyes in terror. “Don’t pretend you’re a vampire again.” Her journal had to wait until she shooed away the intruder.

    “MOM, leave me alone. I’m trying to spend time around my real friends who ‘get’ me. Leave this sanctum of the occult immediately!” Desperation turned to unfounded arrogance. “That is unless you want me to turn you into something even worse than a pesky middle-aged woman!”

    “Ashley, you’re so quick to forget that you get that from my side of the family. This little outburst settles it: I’m grounding ‘Lady Darkness’ for a week.” Ashley’s mother muttered a few things under her breath, wiggled her fingers over her daughter’s head and vanquished the aura of darkness. In place of ‘Lady Darkness’ sat a far less intimidating 21 year old brunette in a outfit that wouldn’t seem out of place at a comic convention. “Now, are you going to be my daughter again, Ms. Ashley Bridget Cavan, OR will I need to escalate?”

            Ashley let out a defeated sigh. “No, you do need to escalate, High Witch Audrey Cavan. I know my place beneath you.” She looked down in horror to notice that her mom had gone to the extra effort of putting her in the ridiculous costume from her birthday. “Did you REALLY need to go this far? I’m not a dork; I don’t read comics.” Ashley was always a horrible liar.

            “You don’t need to be so formal around me. Besides, you look absolutely adorable as Spider-Woman! I had to make you fit alongside your friend Emily for your next play date.”

            “They’re not play dates, mom! We spend time trying to figure out how to most effectively use our powers to shape the world how WE see fit. You had your time to make an impact over a decade ago and chose to do nothing!”           

    “I’m not so sure that you’re in a position to judge, Ashley. Apart from turning that Ben boy into a would-be Hot Topic employee, have you done anything other than ‘edge lady’ on-line for the past few years?”

            “You win.” Ashley blurted out only incoherently.

            “Sorry, let me see if I can hear you more accurately.” Audrey transformed into a pigeon to most effectively apply additional salt onto the open wound. She often used this form whenever Ashley or her younger brother spoke admissions incoherently. The major insult came from the aftermath of a bird transformation indoors. “I’m going to need you to tell me that again.” Feathers flew around the room in a spiteful gust in conjunction to some white residue appearing on the floor. “Well?”

            “You win, mom!”

            “That’s my itty bitty Spider-Woman.” Audrey returned back to her human form. “Don’t forget that I’m still the queen of this household. I was your age once and it is for your own good that I lead you down the right path.” She snapped her fingers causing the dark room to transform into a far more ‘fitting’ configuration for her impressionable daughter. “Let’s hit that macaroni before it becomes cold!”

            The question the reader must be asking now is that of ‘when does the ACTUAL transformation begin?’ Opportunity for ‘shaping the world’ presented itself during Ashley and Audrey’s awkward lunch. The well-lit dining room had a large bay window that showed a perfect view of the cul-de-sac, the family minivan and the white picket fence. Ashley noticed a teenage boy standing in the view from the window for the duration of the entire meal. “Mom, is it normal to have someone like him stand there in the middle of the day?”

            “Oh, that’s your brother’s friend Joey. He’s really into Pokemon Go!” Audrey smiled. “Our front area has become quite the hotspot for Pokemon fans of all ages.”

            Ashley glanced over at the clock. “Shouldn’t he be in school right now?”

            Joey Romo considered himself to be among the very best Gym Leaders in the major tristate area. His Raticate was in the top percentage of Raticate thanks to its bite/hyper beam build. In fact, Joey’s confidence in his pokemon was so high that he would often pester friends and family in a deluge of redundant updates. The popularity of Pokemon Go made Joey realize that being a master trainer was FAR more important than boring middle school classes on dead people and non-pokemon elements. The Periodic Table doesn’t even include the Gen 2 and beyond types! Joey was different from all of the other middle schoolers. “Pfft, all I need in life are my Raticate, comfy shorts and more data in my plan.” A notification alerted him that he was at 80% data use. “Why won’t the Cavans give me their WiFi password already?”    

            “Ashley, be a dear and think of a fitting punishment for Joey. I need to go make some ‘angry tea’.” Audrey took the plates into the kitchen; an unearthly scream of rage followed shortly. Ashley didn’t know how to respond until Audrey, holding a cup of tea, returned minutes later visibly shaken. “I called Joey’s mother and she DARED to insinuate that I have no right to judge her parental style. She’s the SAME woman who let her oldest son drop out of high school to ‘professionally’ play Guitar Hero when that was still popular.” Audrey shattered the cup in a grip comparable to a vise. “I order you to not hold back, got it? That AWFUL family must learn some respect for civilized society.”

            “I’ll think of something.” Ashley grabbed her smartphone from the charging dock near the landline. She rarely used it, but she figured the ‘normal act’ would appease mom. “I was thinking of making them into a Snorlax or a Magikarp. I haven’t looked at Pokemon stuff since I was a kid…” She swiped through the recent images in a generic web search for Pokemon. One particularly ‘homely’ design caught her attention. “They made a Pokemon character based on Aunt Harriet?”

            Strangely, Audrey automatically knew the design Ashley was referencing. “Oooh, Wicke would be absolutely perfect to fill that gap in my book club. She’d certainly be a better influence in the neighborhood than Joey’s actual mother. Yes, that will work perfectly.” Audrey stood up, reversed the destruction of the tea cup, and gulped the contents down. “Go out and zap to the extreme, Ashley!”

            Ashley put away the phone and awkwardly made her way to the door. Her mother was right: her shapeshifting abilities were out of practice. She performed a final check over herself before leaving the porch. She lacked access to her usual object-based transformations while outside of her ‘dark form’. That limitation left her the ‘hand-to-hand’ options. “Hey! Shouldn’t you be in school?” Ashley shouted towards the boy. “You’re that dweeb my younger brother knows, aren’t you?”

            Joey looked up from his phone briefly to address the critic. It appeared that Scott’s ‘hidden’ sister finally materialized in the form of a complete Tumblr stereotype. “Whatever. Leave me alone and go back to whatever crap you and the other senior citizens like.” Joey turned his back to Ashley. “No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend or friends in general.”

            “You miserable little...” Ashley stormed her way to the pest. “It’s time for you to learn some responsibility.” Ashley rested her hands on Joey’s back, forming a circuit for her energy in the meantime. The energy manifested in the form of obvious green energy pulses due to the framing of Ashley’s costume. She fired two bursts at Joey’s torso under the assumption that would have the maximum effect. “Gah, I sound like my mom.”

    “Get off me, freak!” Joey shoved Ashley away. “What you did is assault! I can have you arrested for that.” He continued ranting until a sudden stomach illness demanded his attention. “What did you do to me?” Joey fell to the ground preparing to puke. The magic hit him with intensity almost on the level of the middle school’s ‘Lunch Preparers’ Special’. Struggling only made the sensations much worse. “Am I going to die?” Was this a moment of genuine remorse? “I can’t let my Raticate go on without me training it!” No.

            “Quit whining and accept that you’re transforming already. I don’t have all day to waste on punishing my younger brother’s delinquent friends.” Ashley looked down at the struggling kid. “If you think I’m a senior citizen at my age, just wait until your clock is reset.” She referred to her iPhone again looking for a starting detail. “I underestimated how big everything about this design is.” Mass conservation often proves to be a shapeshifter’s greatest foe. Ashley wondered what easily accessible resource would provide the necessary material. The large green compost bin caught her attention. “That will do nicely.”

            Ashley’s banter was lost on Joey thanks to the sheer torment a ‘directionless’ transformation has on a human body. Temporarily relief and aware came from the cooling sensation of… the Cavan Family compost? “Now you’re covering me in garbage? That’s a low blow even by YOUR standards.” Joey’s indignation about the compost seemed to change in a moment from a ‘disgusting’ reaction to embarrassment. “Surely, we can find a less violent resolution to this disagreement.” Joey’s jaw dropped: he NEVER spoke like that. “How strange, I feel that my responses are being altered.” A feminine voice took place of his usual ‘GIVE ME ATTENTION’ tone that all younger brothers have. “What could be causing this forced composure?”

    “I made the decision to force you into the calm of a middle-aged woman before proceeding. You’re going to be singing opera by the end of this.” Ashley dumped the remaining compost over Joey’s head for good measure. “This is a truly organic bath of sorts, Wicke. I know just how much environmentalism means to you.”

    Joey wanted to scream louder than he had when he opened his Nintendo Wii on Christmas Day in 2006. All that came out was a thank you. “I appreciate this so much, Ashley. Your mother raised you to be so considerate and thoughtful~” A patch of the mud, yard clippings and food scraps merged into a dark brown sludge that formed around his head in an impossible hair style. The true horror set in once the waste actually began to absorb into his body. He watched as his arms and legs swelled inches thicker and breasts developed that gave him exaggerated MILF proportions. Some people call this karma while others would probably jump into compost bins hoping to trigger a similar transformation.

    The waste included the benefit of GMO residue that helped accelerate the chemical changes. Copious amounts of estrogen mimickers in the store-bought fertilizer made Joey’s chemical composition unrecognizable and promoted just enough bloating to make the perfect MILF bait. She was now a fertile garden waiting for the proper seed to grow. “That was beyond invigorating, Ashley. I’m so relaxed that I can’t quite remember who I am.” ‘Wicke’ stood up unapologetically naked without a second’s hesitation. She felt more alive in this moment than ever before. “Did I have glasses on before the treatment? I can’t remember everything being this blurry.” Wicke’s green eyes did appear continuously squinting.

    Ashley’s unorthodox catalyst, while effective, left the result a relatively clean slate. The chemical cocktail destroyed all traces of Joey’s clothing and identification. In hindsight, Ashley should have taken the contents of his wallet in advance. Regardless, the priority became removing the naked middle-aged woman from prying eyes. “Let’s wash you off completely in the shower in my house.” Ashley shooed the confused woman through the front door towards the bathroom. “Do you remember how a shower works?”

    “Of course!” Good, Wicke retained some common sense from Joey. “What did you do to my clothes, though?” Shame returned to her. “A woman of my age can’t expect to conduct herself with peeping toms watching.”

    “They’re in the washing machine.” Ashley bluffed. “I’ll have them ready by the time you’re finished.”

    “Alright, I would borrow some of your clothes, but we don’t have compatible figures.” Wicke gave one of those weird winks that people sometimes get from their childless aunts and uncles. She closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

    Ashley estimated, based on Wicke’s hair alone, her time to improvise clothing was just shy of 30 minutes. The constraint ruled out outsourcing work to Etsy or ‘that’ one friend she had who made a big deal out of the fact she knits. It’s TOTALLY impressive that they can perform a skill that their grandma does for a hobby. They’re SO useful in fact that it is no wonder why everyone goes out of their way to ensure the person has few ‘distractions’. Ashley scrambled to find a base to work into her creation.

    “Would the guest sheets work? No, they’re too thin and tacky. Eh… I think there are some bundled up newspapers in the garage.” Everyone knows that explaining the problem in blatant exposition brings you closer to the resolution. Ashley made her way to garage door only to find a note atop a pile of soiled clothes. Ashley read the note aloud almost in disbelief. “Ashley, I decided to snoop around our foe’s house for signs of HORRIBLE parenting. Would you believe that they wash their laundry every OTHER week? I’m sure the ‘Mother of the Millennium’ won’t miss all of her ex-son’s messy clothes. Be back later with dinner. Love, Mom.”

    Ashley grabbed a disposable medical mask from the linen closet before picking up the mound of sweat-drenched clothing. Moving it otherwise would have been extremely painful. Mumbling a mix of ‘stench removal’ spells and other attempted incantations proved futile thanks to the muffling of the mask. She made her way to the bathroom door, opened the door and tossed in the hazard waste like a flashbang grenade. A horrifying reality hit Ashley moments after the breach. “I forgot to cast a spell…”

    Unexpected visitors interrupted Wicke’s shower. Several items impacted the shower curtain while dozens more landed on the floor. “How strange…” She turned off the shower before examining a shirt that had managed to fly above the curtain rod. It was certainly too small for her to wear and, upon smelling, dirty. “Is your brother performing a nasty plot, Ashley? I thought that my clothes were in the wash…” Stepping out onto the bathmat gave her a chance to see the garment wasteland. Ashley barged into the door with nearly the same look of confusion as Wicke. “What happened to my clothes?”

    “They’re around somewhere… How was the shower?” The clothing on the floor crawled together into a mob of fabric just outside of either woman’s view. Ashley’s mumbling somehow translated into a life-generation spell. Under difference circumstances, a witch’s first golem is a rite of passage to celebrate. In practice, a Garbodor of teen spirit [and a lack of deodorant] prepared to test Wicke’s commitment to ALL Pokemon.

    The beast clung onto Wicke merciless in an encompassing death grip. The creature pulled Wicke into the shower where the initial shirt waited to pounce on her face. She flailed around wildly until she somehow managed to turn on the stream of water again. Residue and color drained from the golem revealing a far less menacing blob of white and pink fabric begging for form. Even the ‘face hugger’ somehow managed to reform into a pink pair of glasses to correct for the visual clarity. Wicke’s calm returned upon turning off the shower again. Her outfit finished forming in the middle of attempting to dry off. The cost of a towel turning into a ‘not cape-thing’ seemed miniscule compared to what made up the rest of the outfit.

    An uncomfortable silence existed between the two until the steam dissipated enough for Wicke to clearly see herself in the mirror. “I look ridiculous.” Her stern tone made Ashley expect the worst. “That’s exactly why I love this look!” Wicke beamed. The stern tone evaporated entirely. “Thank you oh so much for this, Ashley!”

    Conveniently, Audrey materialized behind them from the steam. “I’m so proud of both of you. My little witchling is growing to be quite the sorceress! Your reward is in the kitchen next to the cookie jar.” Audrey took hold of Wicke’s right hand. “Let me get you up to speed on this month’s book for the book club and then we’ll forge your documents later. We are friends now, whether you like it or not.”

    Ashley stepped aside from the ‘prelude to a Lifetime movie marathon’ to discover her prize. An ornate envelope bearing Ashley’s name in calligraphy rested beckoning her to further adventure. Using the butter dish knife to open the sealed section undercut the majesty significantly. The contents included a folded letter and an airline ticket to Las Vegas six hours later.

    The letter read as follows:

    “Congratulations on coming out of retirement, ‘Lady Ebony Darkness’. I wanted to have your friend Emily over, but it seems that she’s in a tight spot at the moment. Pulling a few strings led me to a lead placing her just outside of Las Vegas. You’re limited to whatever you have in your pockets, the ticket AND one other change of clothes. I will know if you DON’T take the costume with you. Consider this a trial by fire. Teleporting beyond sight is cheating. Fail the trial and you’ll be striped of your abilities permanently.

    Hugs and kisses,