Last Seandays: The Art of Subterfuge

I wouldn't say I was bad, hell, some people would call me nice. Well maybe.

I'm always looking to make an easy buck, and not afraid to step on anyone to get it. I guess you'd blame my parents, and I'd probably agree with you.

I was brought up on a ranch--as soon as I was able to talk they told me that I was an unwanted child. It wasn't until I was older that I really understood what they meant.

They treated me like staff, he'd give me a wage and she'd take it away telling me it was for room and board. As soon as I was old enough I ran away--to the city.

I spent years running, trying to put as many miles between me and the people I hated.

I'd settled in Kirkborough, a small town near to the Mexico border where the people were friendly. I'd got into a routine working for a living--in a coffee shop, although this time I was on a wage where I could afford a room and have some money left over.

My life changed when I saw Zack Selland crossing the road--I recognised him from the shop--he was a cool dude always friendly.

I'd been sitting on a bench he glanced over and I waved, he looked confused--as if he'd never seen me before. As he broke in a jog his wallet fell from his pocket. I shouted out, but he ignored me.

Picking up the wallet, I flipped through it--easily $500--WOW! If he was a nobody then the cash would be making my life easier but he always tipped well. I looked up and saw him turn a corner, and I gave chase.

Last Seandays: Under the skin

So where have I been for the past couple of weeks? Well as I’ve been trapped for a while I wanted to spread my wing a bit and perform some body hopping…

It’s true, I’ve had some fun in Ryan but it was time for a change.

Of course there were few that weren’t intimidated by Ryan’s physical size. I was out in the Mall, checking out some clothes; it was always fun to strip off my shirt in the shop and try stuff on – just for the looks from others.

It was in one of the many shops I spotted Chris, a lot smaller and younger than Ryan, but damn cute in his own way. I watched as he picked up a sweater and made his way to the fitting rooms. I followed him in…

I walked into the room, all the doors to the closets were open apart from one. I walked Ryan over to the closed door knocked on the door.

Enough

By Bill Rowan

“Enough already.” Chris said to no one in particular. He was finally back in his own body after his latest stint as another Chris for the past few months. Mind you being the other Chris hadn’t been bad. Au contraire he had had a blast being the Aussie stud but after so many times of being transformed, transferred, possessed, and even cloned, he was beginning to lose his own identity. He enjoyed the experiences, many of them quite erotic, but he needed time to be himself for once and recharge. Doubtless that wouldn’t happen. There were some major obstacles to overcome if he wanted down-time.

For starters he would have to fly beneath the radar so people wouldn’t think to use magic on him. That was definitely a hard one since he didn’t really want to live somebody else’s life but he knew it would likely be the only way he could get some peace for a while. He didn’t want to give up acting as that was his first love, meaning his options might be a bit more limited. He was pretty sure whoever he did choose wouldn’t be too bummed out at being an A-list actor who just happened to be quite wealthy and hunky. And even if he could find such a person, how would he be able to pull off the transference since he himself had no magical abilities?

Thinking all this through, however, got Chris conflicted. On one hand he wanted a break but on the other he had become quite addicted to having himself ripped out of his body or turned into some inanimate object to be worn by some hot guy. Just thinking about that got him rather aroused and he definitely didn’t have time for that now. Rarely did he get to be himself for more than a day or two before someone else had their way with him so he would have to act quick if his plans were to succeed.

He thought back to one of the swaps a few years ago when a guy named Brian had taken his body for a Halloween superhero costume party. Brian had used a Draconian Katra that Mr. Cavanaugh, one of Chris’ frequent transformation instigators, had given him. It actually had been quite amusing to see the kid’s reaction at finding himself suddenly thrust into Chris’ body. Chris wondered if Brian still had the Katra and, if he did, would it still work? Didn’t matter anyway since Chris didn’t know how to contact Brian anymore. So what other option was available to him?

His mind then wandered to the possibility, remote as it was, that perhaps some residue magic had been left in his body. But even if there was, how could he activate it and would it be enough to achieve a swap? “Nope.” He told himself. “They wouldn’t be careless enough to leave any trace behind.”

He could call Mr. C. but then he would know Chris’ plan and that would likely defeat his purpose. So maybe Chris could get one of his friends to ask the crafty wizard, or whatever he was, for some help. Like maybe get an artifact that could be used…. No, two things wrong with that. He didn’t know how to get in touch with Mr. C. and whatever friend he asked would think he was crazy. After all body swapping and magic weren’t really possible, right? They would think him crazy. He resigned himself to never being able to accomplish his much-needed vacation and finally went to bed. Tomorrow was another day of filming and Chris had to be at the top of his game.

The next morning before he went to the studio he got up early to take a walk around the park. It always helped him clear his head. Fortunately no one had decided to hijack his body or to play some other mischief during the night. Maybe they would leave him alone for a while.

As he was walking along his usual path he came upon a small store sitting smack dab in the middle of the park. Now Chris was always very observant of details but somehow this store had escaped his notice before… or it had never been here. But that would be silly. Stores don’t just appear out of nowhere. Intrigued, he went closer to explore.

The windows showed him nothing other than his own reflection. A “CLOSED” sign hung in the window of the door, just below faded lettering – “M. Bostov     Clothing Store”. Why in the world would anyone put a clothing store in the middle of a park? Chris looked around, checking out the store. While there were very few people at the park, none of them seemed to notice anything unusual as they passed by. Was he seeing things? His curiosity being fully aroused, he tried the handle on the door which, despite the “CLOSED” sign, opened easily, allowing him access inside as a small bell above the door tinkled. The lighting was dim but Chris could still see rows of clothes and accessories that seemed to stretch on forever, odd given how small the building looked from outside.

“Hello? Anybody here?”

“Hello Mr. Evans. I’ve been expecting you.” Chris swung around to find a young man clad in head to toe leather behind him. “I’m Jace. Welcome.” Jace tried to remain calm but he was such a big fan of Chris Evans that he was rather flabbergasted to see his idol standing right there before him, even if he had been waiting for him to make an appearance. Chris shook the hand that was offered, smiling at the young man but still rather befuddled by the strange store. “Follow me. I have exactly what you desire.” Okay, that was strange. Why would Jace be expecting him or know anything about what he desired? Nonetheless Chris followed the young man, not quite understanding why he was trusting him.

They wound their way through a myriad of merchandise, finally ending up at what was obviously a section devoted entirely to leather. Leather pants, leather vests, leather harnesses, leather jackets. If Chris had been in the market for something leather today, this was definitely the place to find it.

“I’m really not interested in buying leather today. Thanks just the same.”

“Let me show you something that you can try on and if you find you don’t like it, fine. But I think you’ll like what I have to offer.” Jace was definitely persistent. Chris had to give the young man that. Besides what could it hurt to try on a jacket, if only to amuse his host? Jace pulled out a distressed-looking brown jacket. One that looked to be too small to fit Chris’ bulked-up torso.

“Uh… I don’t think that will fit me, Jace.” The jacket was quite obviously meant for someone not quite as large as Chris but as Jace handed the jacket to him, Chris felt the strangest compulsion to try it on.

“I think you will find it fits you perfectly, Mr. Evans. Let me show you to the changing cubicle right over here.” Jace motioned forward where there was a booth with curtains. “If you please, sir.” Chris entered the booth, whereupon Jace handed him the jacket.

Seanday Lunch: Fractured

"Jesus, I never realised how hard these guys worked," I gasped pulling off my helmet, and then realised there were still other players around--I snapped my mouth shut hoping nobody heard me.

"Shit, I think I'm overheating or something," I gasped, I felt the world start to spin as I pulled up the tight shirt trying to get some air. It did little to help, my pads below were just as tight.

I was on the verge of passing out when I heard distant voices, and then the skies opened drenching me in ice water. "Better?" I heard a voice chuckle behind me, turning I recognised the face of Joe.

"Jeez, Joe what are you trying to do--drown me?" I spluttered.

"Fine," he muttered, "next time I'll let you pass out and die."

I coughed up some water and thanked him. It seemed to have worked, I felt a lot better. "Thanks bro' it was just a bit of a shock." He nodded, and told me that I owed him a beer.

I should have known how demanding the game was, I had access to Carl's memories after all. But the raw anger, and ruthlessness to win were so overwhelming that I only dared to dip into them the once.

Seanday Reloaded: The Exchange

“Fuck, give me a chance. Taking new forms isn’t a walk in the park - cunt!” Danny’s persona was strong and I could feel it sweeping over me.

Pulling on his boxers and shorts, only reinforce Danny’s aggression; the last memories he had before I fought him to the ground knocking him out.

Danny’s tattoos bloomed across my new chest and arm, closing my eyes I concentrated and his thick eyebrows and tight cropped hair formed.

I looked over at the original and kneeled over him, pulling off his loose basketball vest.

With deep loathing I pulled a punch catching him squarely in the face, “That’s for struggling and that last punch.”, I touched a soft spot on my face and winced.

Trade

by Carlos Palanca

It was a seemingly normal Saturday afternoon as Ben arrives at his friend, Justin’s house. He rang the doorbell to let him or any of his family members know that he’s at the door. A second or two later, he heard footsteps coming towards the door. He heard the door locks click and the door opens, revealing Justin’s mom, Mrs. Shepherd from the other side of it. 

Mrs. Shepherd greets Ben and he politely greets her back. He asks if Justin’s in the house. She informs Ben her son is inside but she also tells him that Justin is grounded and can’t leave the house. Ben assures her that he is just here to borrow something from Justin. She lets him in and tells him to head straight into Justin’s room and she’ll be in the kitchen if they need anything.

When Ben reaches Justin’s room, he notices that the door is closed. He knocks and says, “Justin, open up. It’s Ben.”

“It’s unlocked!” said Justin from the other side. Ben opens the door and sees Justin stripping off his clothes. “About time you got here! I thought that you weren’t going to show up!”

A Southern Rebel in Yankee Clothing

Read Goin' South
Read Going North

by Bill Rowan

I was aghast seeing myself in Joel’s suit.

“What? What have you done Cletus?” Wait… that didn’t sound like my voice. My drawl was gone. I sounded… no, that couldn’t be…

“Just what I was sent here to do. I turned a Northern Yankee into a good old Southern boy, although not quite in the way the sheriff expected.  I’ve been enjoying being Mark and all the perks that go with it and thought maybe I could share that with my best bud. I changed Joel into you, so he can go back to Pops and tell them all is going well up here while you get to stay with me and have some fun. I don’t think I ever want to go back to being Cletus now, even if I am older and a Yankee. Just think of all we can do together. But first I think we better get a change of clothes for you though. You look ridiculous brother.”

“Brother?” There was that accent again.

“You still haven’t figured it out yet, Will? You’re a smart Southern boy. You should know what happened by now.” A sudden chill ran down my spine as I finally realized…

 “You…you changed me into Joel?” Now I recognized the voice. I was a damn Yankee. What would Pops think? Hi Pops. It’s me Will. Yeah, I know I don’t sound like myself. Oh, and by the way, I’m a Yankee now. Pops would think I was crazy, especially with Joel by his side as me. My head began to spin trying to figure this all out.

“Come on. Let’s go join Will and get you into some proper clothes.” There was nothing I could do about the situation, at least not yet, so I resigned myself to my status as Joel until the opportunity arose where I could do something to get back to being me. As we started to leave I caught a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had to admit I looked hot.

Joel, or rather Will now, had a very perplexed look on his face as we came back to the room.

“Whadj y’all do to me? How did I wind up in Joel’s clothes? Did y’all put them on me when I passed out? Not funny Mark.” I couldn’t stand it, watching Joel look, act and sound like me as though this was all perfectly normal. Mark was just standing there with a smirk on his face, obviously enjoying our predicaments.

“Yes, Will. We thought it would be hilarious seeing you all dressed up in Joel’s clothes.” He could be a sarcastic bastard when he wanted.  Apparently whatever Cletus had done had taken away the knowledge that Mark was really Cletus. I would have to learn what story he had planted in his mind to pull off getting Will up north to visit him.

Second Career as Chester Bennington

By Slick Psych

Last night, I had knocked out early from my retirement party, satisfied, but bored. Not much left to do, after my wife passed on a few years ago. Yet, somehow, I woke up with a nasty hangover. Once I came to and splashed water to clear my vision, I found myself looking at a very different reflection. The guy I now saw looking back was a lot younger and quite heavily tattooed. I now have several of those piercings that young men are so fond of nowadays. I somehow knew I shouldn’t be complaining, though, to find myself in a much more attractive body. Nice and fit and skinny too. Perhaps fate had given me a second chance at a new career. And maybe a more fulfilling sex life. I already feel a lot more energy than I did when I was his age. And young men seemed to be a lot more open to homosexuality these days, especially in the more alternative scene. I vaguely recall this attractive Asian guy, now that this body’s memories are starting to come to me. Looking at my new reflection, I think I’ll do fine for myself as this “Chester” guy. Yeah, I like that name. Now to go into the stall and see what I’m now packing.

Seanday Reloaded: The Captain’s Table

I grinned at my new reflection in the rear view. Fuck, that was easier than I thought I said to myself. I rubbed my new thick biceps through Justin’s tight sweatshirt, damn he had a fit body and for the next couple of weeks it would be mine.

Damn. I had to pull over, I’d admired Justin from afar for so long and now I was closer than I’d ever dared believe—on the inside looking out. I grasped the steering wheel and flexed watching the fabric of the sweatshirt bulge; taking a couple of deep breaths I smiled--not mine, but Justin’s.

I slouched down in the luxurious seats of the SUV and cupped Justin’s pride in my hands; it felt warm and heavy. I gingerly bit my lip and slid a hand into the sweatpants I was wearing; I shivered touching something hard and my head dropped back with a groan. I grasped the base of the shaft and jerked it a little and a tingle rushed down my spine. My head snapped up, and I came face to face with Justin’s reflection again, and my lip curled into a smile; all mine I whispered under my breath.

Seanday Replay: Self Funded

I looked down and let out a sigh. It had happened again.

I didn't bother to check out the body I'd been dumped in--even casually. It had happened to me so many times it was just boring now. If anything I was more concerned about my old body.

I had no idea who I was now, apart from the obvious. An eighteen, possibly nineteen year old who enjoyed walking around shirtless--kids these days I thought to myself.

Looking around I vaguely recognised the basketball court on the other side of the field. Thankfully I hadn't been dumped too far this time.

Going North

by Bill Rowan

Read Goin' South

It had been about a month since I had heard anything from my best bud Cletus and I was worried. He hadn’t returned any of my phone calls or text messages and that was not like him at all. When I talked to the sheriff all he would say is his deputy was up north on some assignment, but he wouldn’t give me any details. Then one day I got a call from someone named “Mark”. I was just about to decline the call when for some reason I hit the accept button instead.

“Hey, buddy. Sorry to be incommunicado for so long. How have you been?” The voice on the other end didn’t sound familiar to me so I had no idea who this “Mark” person was or how he got my number. Yet he was calling me buddy like he had known me for a long time.

“Do I know you, Mark?”

“Sure you do. It’s me… Cletus.”

“Cletus? Y’all sure don’t sound like Cletus and Cletus wouldn’t say no highfalutin word like incommuni…whatever.”

“No, I don’t, but I can’t explain now. Trust me. It is really me. Remember the time….” He proceeded to relate a story only Cletus and I would know.

“Do you fancy a road trip up north to Rhode Island?” Rhode Island? I had never been out of North Carolina never mind going up north to Yankee country. Pops would never let me associate with no Yankee scum. Not so sure he would cotton to the idea of me going to Rhode Island to meet up with Cletus either.

“Damn boy. I can’t get over how different you sound. I gotta talk to Pops first. If I can I’ll text you and y’all can give me the details.”

“Tell him to talk to the sheriff and that I need your help. By the way, have you met Bo?”

“Yup. Met him the other day. Just moved into the old Jenkins’ place. Was out plowing the fields. Something different ‘bout him though.”

“You’re right there. I’ll explain everything when I see you. I know Pops will let you come to visit. You have my number now so give me a holler so I can give you directions.”

“Sure thing Cletus. Be careful whatever you’re doin’.” I disconnected the call and went to talk to Pops.

I high tailed it home and told Pops everything Cletus had said, whereupon Pops went to talk to the sheriff. Whatever the sheriff told Pops it was enough to convince him to let me go north, with one provision: I had to stay with Cletus at all times and not go wandering alone among the Yankees. I could tell Pops was none too thrilled with the idea in any case and if he had said no I would not have disobeyed him, no matter how much I had to find out what had happened to Cletus. I called Cletus later that night and he told me the route to take and where we should meet. I was to call him when I got there or if I needed help along the way. I barely slept that night I was so excited, so I started to throw clothes and other things I would need into my huntin’ pack. Made sure my rifle was all primed and in the rack of my new truck Pops had just bought for me. As soon as daybreak hit I had breakfast with Pops, told him I would see him soon, and took off for parts unknown.

TGIF: Jerry's Gym, pt 2

by TS Escher

 

 

ACT I, SCENE 2: ENTER, LEO

READ PT 1 HERE

Jerry flipped the ‘open’ sign as Evan hung out at the front counter, checking people in. The gym was his now, after all. Evan studied all of the new raw material checking in, practically bathing himself in a pool of potential bodies.

Unbeknownst to them, some would serve as "the muscle." Drug runners that would keep his operation going. And one lucky guy would be his new, permanent home. Someone intimidating. Someone commanding. And more importantly, someone no one would fuck with.

As the day wore on, Jerry kept a weary eye on Evan, unsure of his next move. Passing by a mirror on his way to the locker room, he forced a smile. He was relieved that the overly-trained ginger in the mirror smiled back.

I'm going to get us out of this, he promised his reflection in silence. And Jerry’s gym will belong to us again.

The trouble was, he had no idea how.

“There will be an end to this, you know,” Evan piped up.

Jerry whirled around, facing his new foe.

"We just have to make it through one deal, and we're done. I need your help getting started; then I will let you keep running the gym. Everything will be as it was. Well, almost."

Rolling his eyes, Jerry charged back into the locker room. Evan was not far behind.

TGIF: Jerry's Gym, pt 1

by TS Escher

 ACT I, SCENE 1: ENTER, THE THIEF

Jerry’s eyes widened in disbelief. Overcome with anger; his hands balled up into fists. This little prep-school motherfucker is proposing to use my gym to run his drugs? Over my dead body!

Evan’s dark eyes narrowed. He knew that Jerry was formulating the fighting words that he had been waiting for. Jerry had been known around the gym as a gentle giant. A successful competitive bodybuilder whose gym had become not so successful as of late.

Evan’s eyes shifted to the clock. Fuck. Four forty-five. Almost opening time. Impatient, Evan took a rebellious step toward the man three times his size. 

Jerry laughingly shook his head, “This is a road you don’t wanna go down, string-bean. Now I said no. I don’t want any part of your business. You wanna work out here, fine; you paid just like everyone else. But if I ever catch you dealing in here—”

“You’ll what?” Evan responded, with a mix of curiosity and delight.

Jerry flexed his pecs in warning. “I think it’s just about time you leave, friend.” As he placed a firm hand on Evan’s forearm and bounced his chest again, it suddenly became stiff, suspended in a hard flex. With his free hand, Jerry grabbed the tight muscle and felt his heart thump. HARD. His legs wobbled.

Am I having a heart attack?

Seanday Swap: His and Hers, pt2

READ PART 1 HERE

"Cody, you look so hot babe," I said with a chuckle.

"What have you done?"

"I swapped us, don't you like it? I thought it would be fun for a while. We can swap back later." I turned and flexed, I had no intention of giving back his body. He was young, strong and a wealthy entrepreneur. I looked over at Cody who was beginning to explore his acquired body.

"Holly fuck, this is real!"

"Real as anything," I added. I watched him fondle what used to be my breasts, he looked up at me and blushed. "It's OK," I laughed. "We are really going to have some fun, go into the bedroom and get familiar with your new self."

I watched as he bounded off to the bedroom. I got to my feet, and felt a little light headed at my new height. I shook myself, feeling my new weight, damn, it was good to be a man again. I towelled off the sweat and pulled on another shirt, it fitted perfectly. Retiring to the den I booted up Cody's laptop and methodically changed all his passwords.

Seanday Swap: His and Hers, pt1

I watched Cody prepare his weeks meals, he was dedicated, and focused on just getting big! I smiled recalling his early years, he'd grown so much, not only in size but he'd learnt so much. He'd even started a franchise, and lived a lifestyle that wanted for little.

It was rare to see him in a shirt, he'd normally be in just a vest or go topless. That was part of his business, showing others what they could achieve if they trained with him, followed his diet plans.

I'd met him at the gym earlier, he was having some "me time". He was working his chest, one of my favourite body parts. He smiled when he saw me, perhaps dreamIng about the many things I'd promised him.

"Hey babe, come to see your man work out?" he asked with a coy smile.

"yeah, come to see the body you're building for me," I replied.

"Aw babe, you know I do it all for you. Come sit with me for a while." He patted his leg, it was thick with muscle. I sat down, and he wrapped an arm around me and kissed me on the cheek. He pulled me in close. I knew he was strong, but he was incredibly gentle. I took a breath, and revelled in the combination of expensive cologne and his beastly musk.

Seanday Service: Jam Jars

I heard some noises again and struggled against the ropes that bound my wrists to the chair. I'd been a drug mule for the gang a couple of times, and I'd only just escaped on my last job. But they weren't impressed when I told them I lost their last package, two million worth of product they told me.

I knew they wouldn't hurt me, I was too useful to them. I was a courier for a hospital, so I was always flying in and out with sensitive parcels like livers, hearts and stuff. Normally I'd slip their consignment in with the other stuff knowing I could get it through security without any close inspections. But this time Anderson was there with his mutt.

Anderson worked for the K9 unit, his dog was good, could sniff out any substance from a hundred yards. He was so smug, fucking good looking for a cop as well. When the dog picked up the scent, I knew I was going to lose, so I dumped the shit and left. That was two weeks ago.

This morning a van almost knocked me down as it skidded to a halt next to me. A couple of guys burst out and put a hood over my head, I didn't struggle the gang always arranged meetings like this. But they don't normally tie me to chairs, this is fucked up, and I wondered if I was just an embarrassment to them that need erasing.

It was only a thought....

By Gary Travis..

As I sat there staring at him I had only one thing running through my mind... How would it feel to have a beard. To feel fingers running through the crop of hair on my face. I looked at my hands, horrible fat fingers. I looked over at him again and saw he was biting his nails a horrible habbit but I noticed how slender and smooth his fingers were. Those fingers would look and feel nice running his sleek black beard. I looked at my reflection in the screen of the pc, no way I'd grow a beard like that I chuckled.

Today happened to be a charity day at work. Suddnelly I had a thought, I asked him if he would consider a beard waxing for charity. I sent it to everyone on our floor so it didn't look too suspicious. He agreed to do it I £200 was raised. It took us almost all day to raise that amount and I spent my time wisely, sending pics of him from his Facebook account to our colleagues.

Guest Post: THE PULSE

by TS Escher

“Cadet Peters!”

I snap to attention. Or rather, the body of Cadet Brandon Peters snaps to attention.

“Fall the fuck into line!” booms Sergeant Johnson.

“Yes Sergeant! Sorry Sergeant!” I reply in a soft Southern accent as I join the end of the line. God damn, my English is perfect! As I stand at attention, I catch my reflection in the glass case covering the fire extinguisher. Skinny, blonde and a nervous disposition. I try to slow Brandon’s heartrate, but it continues to race.

My focus shifts back to the sergeant as he begins berating another cadet. “You’re a piece of shit, Cadet Miller! You didn’t see fit to shine your fucking boots? If you end up graduating from the academy, you will be a disgrace to every Arizona State Trooper in the state!.” His eyes narrow as he looms over the terrified cadet. “What are you gonna do now? Cry, you little bitch?”

Miller sniffles back a sob, as Johnson continues to lay into him. I can’t blame Miller for the tears. The Sergeant was as imposing as he was terrifying. I had been studying Sergeant Johnson all afternoon, just waiting for a good time to take him.

Replay, Chain Letter pt4: A New Year

Taking votes for the next story in the comments.

It was the next morning; Saturday. I vaguely remembered chatting to Brooke's mates on the computer, bitching about being taken off the team. The night ended up surfing his favourite porn sites and jerking off. Through tired eyes I glanced around the room, shirts and sports gear scattered across the floor. My head dropped to the pillow again. An itchy irritation prickled across my face--I rubbed it with the heel of my hand. "Fuck it."

The discomfort intensified, it felt like thousands of hot pin pricks sweeping across my skin. I yelled and ran to the bathroom splashing cold water over my face, I looked up and saw Brooke's reflection. "Good, now I've got your attention," a waspish voice echoed through my head. "You need to understand--your purpose."

"My purpose?" I questioned, rubbing at my eyes. "What do you mean?"

There was a soft chuckle. "You're working for me now--my soul collector."

I choked shaking my head. "What are you, the devil?"

"No, just one of his associates," the voice replied as a prickle etched its way across my face again.

Brooke's face had changed, staring back at me was the mask that I foolishly used yesterday. I wanted out of this forced partnership, I pulled at the edges for the mask desperately trying to free myself. "I can't get it off," I yelled only feeling more pain the harder I tried.

Eventually I surrendered to the fact I was trapped. "Finished?" The voice echoed again. "You are bound by the mask, to fulfil its demands or suffer the consequences. It was in the contract you signed."

"I didn't sign anything," I muttered.

"But you did, yesterday when the previous owner handed you the mask."

I blinked, the long list of names. The short guy I thought was the courier. "Shit!"

Replay, Chain Letter, pt3: The Placeholder

I scratched my ass and paused for a moment looking at the young face in the mirror. I cocked a grin again and raised an eyebrow it felt so right in this guise, young cocky and overconfident.

The strength in this kid seemed boundless; I started to duck and weave shadow boxing with my reflection, it felt natural as if my newly acquired muscles somehow knew what to do.

Picking up the notebook I tapped at the name ‘Alex O’Brian’ wondering if it would be possible to get his memories at a later date, “Of course.” Whispered the voice.

I looked at my reflection again, smiling I rifled through Chapman’s clothes and found a green vest similar to the one the kid was wearing. Quickly I swapped it with the t-shirt; I loved its tightness, and the way it hugged my borrowed body.

Grabbing the notebook and heading out the door, I returned to my own house. Inside I spent a good couple of hours exploring the kids body, it would have been longer but my enjoyment was disturbed by someone ringing that damn doorbell again. To be on the safe side I checked out the window, it was a police officer. Quickly I shifted back to my own identity before opening the door.