Last Seandays: Relax

"Trevor?" Kurt muttered eyes blinking slowly.

I snorted. "Ha, you must be joking. That twink isn't worth a sniff. I just used his shape to get close to you Kurt," I chuckled running a finger down his pecs.

He frowned, and I rolled my eyes returning to my original form. He gasped and tried to sit up, I pushed him easily back into the chair. "You're not going anywhere for the time being. You're flying back to the States tomorrow?" He let out a grunt, and I smiled. "I need a way to get into the country. Sure I'm a shape shifter, I could take your place, but that would leave lose ends. I hate lose ends," I muttered.

"You see Kurt, your going to get me in the country, and you won't even know you helped me. Tonight will just feel like a dream, you and Trevor will fly out and then—" I stop talking, Kurt appeared to be asleep from the sedative now.

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.

Seanday: Lost and Found

He showed me a few pictures of 'Dylan' from last week. I looked at them with only a vague memories.

Matt had been depressed after learning that he'd lost his brother while on duty and I'd somewhat foolishly showed him my shapeshifting abilities.

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.

Seanday Story: Never too Big

"I can't do it," I said as my form shifted back.

"Why not? You didn't have any problems looking like Mike," James complained and showed me another picture.

"He's not that much taller," he said, "if you could be him it'll be awesome." He looked away nervously and added, "I've got the keys to his house."

"How did you get those?" I asked.

"Don't ask," he replied.

I frowned, "I'm asking, tell me!"

James sighed. "I walk his dog, he's going away for a month and he's asked me to feed and walk the dog while he's away."

"So why all the interest in this guy?"

James put a hand on my chest. "He's a male escort and not just the arm candy type."

"Oh?" I was getting interested.

"Yeah, looks after all types of clientele," he tells me, "that's why he's got a Lamborghini parked in the garage!"

"So what are you suggesting? Be this guy for the weekend?" I asked. "What do you get out of it?"

"Think of the bigger picture, this guy is going to be out of the country for a whole month! You can move in!" James said.

TGIF: SOMETHING IN THE WATER

by TS Escher

“Thanks, Marty,” Xander said. He smiled appreciatively as he accepted a bottle of water.

Heading back to the locker room, the former marine looked back affectionately toward the old man. He had never been accustomed to kindness, yet despite his best efforts, he had found Marty anyway.

Every morning Marty opened the boxing gym two hours early, just for him and his trainer. Although getting on in years, the old goat never seemed tired. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, he was always ready with a cold bottle of water for his favorite client. He even washed Xander’s gym clothes with the towels. Fresh clothes! Every day!

How did I get so lucky?

He stepped into a pair of tight black underwear as his trainer Howard entered the room.

“Ready to put ‘em up, big guy?” he said with a laugh.

“You bet!”

Icing

By Carlos Palanca

Tristan waits anxiously for his friends, Matt and Mike to arrive at his house. They called earlier and told Tristan that they want to show him something. Hours passed and Tristan kept waiting for his friends to arrive. He kept himself busy by checking his Instagram feed.

By 3pm, the doorbell rang. Tristan unlocks the door and opens it without checking who is standing on the other side of it. Tristan says, “It’s about time you guys showed--”

Tristan stopped talking as he was completely shocked that it was someone else, a stranger to be more precise. Tristan apologizes and tells the stranger that he thought that he was his friends

The stranger says “You know that you should be more careful when you open the door to someone because you never know what that person is capable of!”

Tristan apologizes again.

The stranger asks him if he is at the right address and if he is Tristan.

Tristan was shocked to hear what very muscular stranger asked.

He tells the stranger that he is Tristan and asks him, “Can I help you?”

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?

TGIF: Maneater

by TS Escher

 

The world would be better off without humans. No pollution. No war. No country music. Unfortunately, they are also necessary.

While savoring this fleeting thought, I move closer to the welcoming warmth of the lamp. My hands are starting to lose their greenish hue as a resigned sigh bubbles up in my throat.

I have to face facts. Chase is starting to deteriorate, and I will be forced to feed again.

My kind, or more specifically plants of my genus, need two things to survive: humans and light. Distant cousins of the Venus Flytrap, we are carnivores. But instead of flies, we feed on humans. As a result, I live simply. I do not need furniture, food or drink. My only sport is hunting and the occasional human fuck.

Mornings Like This

by Carlos Palanca

It was a quiet Friday morning. The dark blue sky lightens to a lighter shade of blue as the moon sets. The sun was finally rising in the east. When it was high enough for its light to sneak in through the small opening between a gap between the shades of a window of an apartment in Manhattan, Mike began to wake up from his slumber. He positions his body to face the view away from the peeking sunlight. He slowly opens his eyes to see a beautiful girl - with long and dark hair and wearing only Mark's souvenir shirt from a Coldplay concert, coming out from the bathroom. She notices him and smiles at him. Mark smiles back at her and sweetly greets her, "Good morning!" She gracefully walks towards the bed and greets back at Mark.

Seanday Reloaded: Baggage Reclaim

I'd just arrived at Heathrow Airport in London and checked the phone while I waited in baggage reclaim.

No signal! Fuck-it! I gave it a shake, what a piece of shit!

It chirped into life, and I checked the message. "Welcome to the United Kingdom. Cute," I mused.

It chirped again, and I cocked a grin at the message. "You fucking cunt, I'm going to find you and kill you! I don't know how you got through security with my passport and gear, but they know!" My grin dropped; the last part worried me, I'd been on the flight imitating this guy--out of touch.

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.

Replay, Chain Letter, pt2: There Goes the Neighbourhood

Throwing on some sweat pants and a cotton t-shirt I picked up Chapman's keys and went to leave, but something tugged at my subconscious, and a soft voice in my head told me take the notebook, shrugging I picked it up and left the house.

It had been the first time I'd been inside Chapman's house, even though we'd spoken many times; a big, strong guy kinda dwarfed me a bit and always seem to talk down to me with a 'grin of superiority'. He told me that he'd broken up with his wife soon after he moved in and since then he'd been living alone.

The heavy door swung open after I'd found the right key for the lock. Inside I was a little surprised, not the tidy well presented home I would have expected but a bit of a mess. Discarded workout clothes and a kit bag lay in the hall, in the bigger room there was a huge TV with a couple of takeaway cartons on the table. What looked like a protein drink half finished sat on the floor. In the kitchen the sink was full of unwashed plates and dishes, some cooked chicken still in the pan.

Tentatively approaching the bedroom, I slowly opened the door; the blinds were still closed so I couldn't see much only dark shapes. Flicking on the light surprised me further; It was completely different to the turmoil of the rest of the house, everything was clean, and in its place. A huge double bed with black satin sheets dominated the room, evident that Chapman thought he was a bit of a stud and needed an appropriate stage to impress the fact. There were huge mirrored doors opposite which led to his closet and a personal gym. There were a number of framed pictures on the dresser, mainly of Chapman posing in what looks like some kind of contest.

Replay, Chain Letter, pt1: A Year and a Day

RIIIING, RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

I turned over and looked at the clock, "6am? What the fuck?" I groaned and turned over.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

"THE FUCK?" it suddenly dawned on me that there was someone at the door. Throwing the sheets off I sat on the bed gathering my thoughts.

RIIIIIIING!

Looking out the window I tried to see who had disturbed my morning sleep but couldn't see anyone. RIIIIIING! "Who the hell is down there?"

A guy stepped back into my view, "Delivery for you sir!"

"Just put it down somewhere. I'll get it later," I groaned.

"No can do sir, needs a signature."

Letting out a groan, I pulled on some discarded shorts and made my way down the stairs. Yanking open the door revealed the culprit: a short stocky guy wearing a blue and red uniform grinned at me. Rolling my eyes, I frowned at him, and his plastic smile dropped a little as he handed me a box about eight inches square.

I was surprised when he unrolled a long sheet of paper, easily a couple of feet long. "Sign here sir." He pointed to a line right at the bottom. There were hundreds of names, and many didn't even appear to be from this country.

He thanked me heartily and shook my hand, and as I pulled away I felt a tingle creeping up my arm. His smile curled into something quite different as he left.

Still a little dazed by the whole experience, I put the package on the table and returned to bed. But as I slept a nightmare of giant, toothed beasts chased me through the darkness of never ending tunnels woke me with a start, and I had the feeling of an icy hand gripping my heart. Groaning, I rolled over and with a thump fell to the floor; then just as suddenly as it appeared the pain was gone.

Making my way to the kitchen, my eyes were drawn to the package. I glanced at the label. The text was blurred, and almost seemed to move. I rubbed my thumb across the label and snapped it away again, for it felt like something had just bitten me. A spot of blood bloomed from my thumb and dropped, hitting the surface of the label where it was absorbed almost instantly. The characters jumped and darted across the label and then pulled into focus; my name, my address. I gingerly turned the box on its side. The return address only had the name of some obscure building in New York, but as soon as I'd read the words they disappeared.

Seanday Lunch: Best Man for the Job

Kurt was surprised to find me in his hotel room.

"What the fuck," he managed to yell before I silenced him with a single gesture. He stood there, mouth gaping, eyes wide, with a confused look on his face.

"Trying to figure out why you can't talk or move?" I asked, of course he said nothing. His mouth moved, but nothing came out.

I could see he was grinding his teeth. He scowled, and I was grateful that he was under my control. Kurt was a big man, thick and strong. His attitude and persona was just as big; I'd been watching him act like a jerk--the big man at the wedding reception. He was the grooms best man, and I'd seen the bride had her eyes on him as well.

Seanday ReCap: Tommy Gunn

I sat there wondering how much longer I could get away with it.

Sarah had almost caught me when she’d come into the room. I’d just clipped the watch into place and picked up the T-shirt I’d left on the chair.

Guest Post: The Doppelganger

Guest Post by Anon.

"Hey Tyler great job playing on Friday!" I look up to see one of the older football coaches looking towards my direction. Confused at first, I turn to see no one behind me. Then I turn to see the coach in front of me.

"Sorry about not congratulating you on the win but I ended up having to leave the game early and I tried to catch you in the locker room before but you looked busy. Wait you were still in the locker room when I left. How'd you get out here already?"

I'm really dumbfounded at this point, and manage to stare blankly towards the coach. Luckily the coach continues on. "Oh you kids these days, I'm getting too old." He chuckles as I do the same so I don't make the situation more awkward then it is. He then goes to say he has to go do something, and congratulates me one more time and pats me on my back.

I'm left standing there still confused as hell. A headache begins as I scratch my head. As I'm scratching I feel short cropped hair. My hair is longer then this. "Fuck." I curse to myself as I figure out what had just happened.

As I try to locate the nearest bathroom, several other students I never talk to come up to me and either smile, nod or even congratulate me on the game.

Coming into the bathroom the mirror is directly in front of me and my suspicions are right. "Holy shit I can't believe this happened again." I say as I grab my face and push my hand through the short hair. The reflection of my schools quarterback greets me. I open up my jacket to find my t shirt straining against the fabric, holding back Tyler's muscles.

Before anyone else has a chance to see, I duck into a stall and transform back into myself. To my relief my own reflection greets me as I head out of the bathroom.

Seanday Break: Something Furry

I'm taking a break for a while, but just to entertain you I'm reposting some of my favourite stories -- I hope you enjoy them as well.

Sean.

---

My time was running out, but I'd found my next home. Although I looked quite normal, a seventeen year old a touch skinny and a little awkward this form was becoming unstable. I should have expected it really, I'd obtained it two years ago and I was already 6 months overdue for a change. He'd started to feel itchy, and grated on my conscious continually, whether it was the claustrophobic tightness or something that used to feel comfortable and like home now started to feel alien to me.

I don't know how many of us there are in the world, but I know for one thing we are damn good at hiding; even from each other.

We all have the ability to shape-shift, to change our identity; physically, but only for about an hour or so. I'd use this ability to track and follow him, being his friends, a stranger asking for the time perhaps or a friendly shop assistant, it all helped to understand his choices, the way he reacted to different situations, all important.

I scratched at my elbow, the tightness and irritation was becoming worse.

By now I knew his routine and today he would be at the gym; I looked at my mobile, 19:30 yeah he'd be finishing soon.

I waited for an opportunity and it arrived on schedule, Kenny one of the personal trainers.

I turned and bumped into him, grabbing his shoulder; "Sorry man, entirely my fault."

"No problem, just look where you're going next time." He retorted.

I gave him a quick smile and walked off towards the gym, tossing his keys in the air catching them and clipped his ID to my shirt.

Second Coming: The Rage Within

A Halloween repost from the archives. 

Darren stood for a moment and looked around the old house, certainly older than the others in the street. It was built in 1887; Victorian Second Empire apparently. Steeped in history he was told, a true fixer upper they said. Still he was grateful for his uncle who left it to him in his will. But as Darren looked at the photo from who knows when, even then its wooden frame, its dark aged slatted walls, sighed with the years.

It had sat unoccupied for a good five years before the will was read, due to Darren's uncle going missing. The investigation to find him had been thorough, but he was never found and the house had suffered from serious neglect in the meantime.

Darren decided that he would simply renovate the house and sell it; he had no interest in the family history. He started to move an old chest--one of the few remaining items in the house--and a photograph, paled and aged, dropped to the floor. He picked it up; it appeared to be a group of football players in a locker room. They were all holding up their fists proudly showing their championship rings. Darren remembered his uncle talking about the time the football team won the college tournament. He ran a finger across the faces, and smiled as he spotted his uncle; he hadn't seen him for almost twenty years now. He propped the photo on the chest and stood back wondering what cards fate had dealt his uncle.

The restoration was tough; he'd worked through the house room by room and was only half way done. He had only started working on the ground floor box room in the morning. It was a peculiar room with no windows and appeared to have no purpose. The wallpaper was dark and mottled with a pattern that seemed to shift if you stared at it too long.