Caption This (18th Jul)

(4) NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS (MINE)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Seanday Massacre 6/6: Camouflage

I laid in wait, time had no meaning to me in this Earth world.

It didn't take me long to understand their culture. Everything appears to circle just a few things; money, power and the way they looked. None of these interested me, I only needed somewhere secure and warm.

I'd found myself in a gym. A place where people spent money to inflict pain and stress on themselves in the hope to improve the way they looked.

My species were masters of camouflage. We were a bio-gel organism, able to change our colour and surface texture. This supplemented with our ability to change our mass made us very hard to find.

At the moment I was spread across the floor of the locker room, expertly imitating its tiled surface. Many had walked across my back, none realised they were having a close encounter.

I felt a familiar weight, and gait as someone walked across the room. He sat on a bench, and I felt this was the time.

Seanday Massacre 5/6: The Switch

I felt swamped in darkness, I blinked open my eyes and the world around me swirled in a sea of colour and light. Retching, closed them again and dropped cross legged on the ground. Daring a look, only pulled the air from my lungs, and turned my stomach. I dropped my hands to the ground to steady myself.

What the hell was going on? I hadn't been drinking, I thought again--no, nothing. Colours and light were bleeding through my eyelids. Reaching up I desperately tried to blot it out with the heels of my hands, I pushed them back to run my hands through my hair and knocked something to the ground, "Damn, my cap." With eyes still squeezed closed I patted the ground around me. "Got it," I muttered and pulled it back on my head.

With shoulders hunched and my hands in my lap I took a deep breath. I really didn't know where I was, or how long this psychedelic blindness would last.

There were noises, voices, I realised. "Hello?" I said in a loud voice, "Who's there? Where am I?" The sounds continued all around me, but nobody answered my pleas.

A feeling of hopelessness, crept over me like a dark shadow. From the noise around me I heard a distinct voice, something that rang familiar. "I think I've found him, over there!"

"Hello?", I called out.

"Found him, he looks in poor shape though. We need to get him somewhere quiet."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a warm breath on the side of my face. "Don't worry you're going to be OK."

"I can't open my eyes," I tried to explain.

"OK, it might be a side effect. Keep them closed." I felt a hand. "Let me take you somewhere quiet and a little darker while we figure this out."

I struggled to my feet with the help of my unseen guide. We started to walk, and I stumbled a few times only to be steadied by my new friend. "You're doing fine, just keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them." I nodded my head.

Seanday Massacre: Breath

I hope you're enjoying the stories, I've put a lot of effort into them over the past week. How about showing which ones you like by voting them up?

Seanday Massacre 4/6: The Taste for More

I turned the key in the locker and opened the door. Glancing around, I pulled out the rucksack--I heard a familiar clink from inside. Slinging the bag over my shoulder I made my way to the restroom next to the lockers.

I locked myself in a stall and pulled open the bag. With a clink-clink-clink I thumbed through its contents and pulled out a white ceramic mask. I checked its outer surface, it was about the size of a dinner plate although convex in shape. Indentations and bumps suggested where the features of a face might be found. Its inner surface was ashen grey, at the top where you'd expect the forehead was a metallic strip, the name "Ryan Arthur McKenzie" floated in blue above its surface--my name. This was my mask.

Offering it up to my face, I took a deep breath before pushing it home. My world went dark.

----

I woke and grunted with a start as the mask hit me in the balls. I managed to catch it before fell to the floor. I'd done this many times, putting on my own mask refreshes the band inside with my recent memories. Similarly anything new in the mask's band updates my own memories.

Reaching into the bag, I pull out another mask. Externally it looks the same, but the interior surface is a cool blue. The new mask is blank, the band on its inner surface only shows the intricate runes carves in its surface.

Sitting, I bide my time, things have been getting heated at home and I really needed a break. It's got to a point were I'm not really bothered who it is, well, I keep telling myself that, but I know its not true.

I hear the door open, and I sneak a look. He's taking a piss; he's wearing a pink polo shirt, blue shorts and a reversed ball cap. He's got black collar length hair, strong shoulders and back. I chuckle a little, your stereotypical frat jock. "You'll do fine," I whisper to myself.

Seanday Massacre 3/6: No Substitutions

Shit, this workout was hard, but I was really seeing the gains. I slapped my pecs one at a time and then flexed for the mirrors. "Not bad," I muttered to myself.

In the locker room Rex--the gym owner--walked over. "You want to help out with the stand at the expo?"

"Can't sorry. But I know someone looking for work. Is there any money in it?"

"$60, but we need him over tonight to help setup the booth and then hand out flyers tomorrow."

"You know Daniel?" I asked.

"The guy you share the house with?"

"Yeah, I'll send him as soon as I get back." I replied.

I showered slowly, taking the time for my muscles to recover--so relaxing. It was two in the afternoon by the time I'd sorted out my kit and started to drive home. I had to cut my workout short today, I would normally be leaving the gym around four but I had a lot scheduled for the afternoon.

I'd only been driving for a few minutes before I received a message with a picture, and almost hit the car in front when I saw it. Pulling over I waited for the inevitable call.

The phone rang. "Hi," I answered. "Calm down," I replied to the irate client on the phone. "The picture was taken at the club? Just forty minutes ago?" I covered the handset and cussed under my breath. "Yes, yes. It was me. Everything was cool." I hated lying. "I understand your concern and to show good will I'll discount the work by $5k." There was silence, and then they agreed on the compensation. I told him I'd call in a few days, and hung up. Anxiously I checked Instagram, and then smashed my head on the steering wheel in frustration, "Why?" My blood was boiling as I continued my journey. I knew exactly what had happened.

Seanday Massacre 2/6: No Arguments

I walked into the community centre, and headed for the common room. I'd only started a few days ago and I was already getting into trouble.

It was a run down neighbourhood, with gangs that run the place. The centre was a place for people to unwind, and to keep the teenagers occupied.

As I turned the corner to the common room I came face to face with three of the local gang. Leo's cold eyes bored into me, daring me to judge him. Kole sat in the middle, a bewildered expression on his face, as if I had just accidentally walked into his house. Luther sat on the end dwarfing the others; the muscle, the quiet one.

There was a tension, a prickling in the air. They just stared at me. "'Sup guys?"

Kole sucked the air through his teeth. "You're making trouble," he muttered.

"Trouble," Luther echoed.

I scowled and thought for a moment. "Tell me how, let me try and fix it."

"You, motherfucker are breaking our business," Leo growled.

"So tell me then?" I retorted.

Kole sucked in the air again, shaking his head. "You're taking our boys away from their business, the runners we need to move our merchandise. They're all comin' here to play nicey-nicey."

Seanday Massacre 1/6: Gym Membership

Derek smiled. "I can't believe this. How is this even possible?"

"Anything is possible if you try hard enough," Raymond replied taking a picture.

Derek rubbed his abs, and they responded by tightening to show even more definition. "But, it just feels so wrong. I mean--"

Raymond reached around cupping Derek's hand and placed it on Derek's pecs. "Enjoy it, there's no going back now. I missed you so much, and I know you felt the same."

Seanday Ready?

This Sunday you're in for a killing.
It's the Seanday Massacre!

Six stories, one posted every four hours for the whole of Sunday.

Yes, that's over six thousand words. All stuffed with transformations for you to enjoy.

Caption This (11th Jul)

(4) NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Seanday Shorts: My Wingman

It was the last day of school, everyone was looking forward to the short break ahead. Some more than others.

Cameron Huber--the school's quarterback--had a lot to look forward to in particular. As the captain, he'd pushed the team hard, and they'd won the finals.

Cameron was something special, not your typical jock. He was build, strong deep from the core. While others struggled to achieve their physiques, it was evident from an early age this particular jock was going to be naturally big.

Partnered with his athleticism, was a cool head that earned him a place in AP studies. His warm eyes only hinted at Cameron's generous nature. He was a kind and considerate individual that many people liked. Certainly easy to get on with, with many friends.

Then there was me, his complete opposite. Hardly any friends, easily half his weight. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't evil--just a little mischievous wrapped up with a lot of jealousy.

The final bell had gone, and I tailed Cameron to the restrooms. After waiting a few minutes, I walked in.

"Oh hey," Cameron said sounding A little startled. "Thought everyone else had left."

I sighed. "Might as well have."

He looked puzzled, "What's up David? It's the end of school, time's your own." He had a knack for remembering names.

"I've nothing, nothing to do."

His eyebrows creased, "I'm sorry buddy, cheer up. Look I'll call you we can hang out."

A smile crossed my face, "Really?"

"Sure," I replied, but I remembered my plan and a pang of guilt gnawed at my gut.

I watched him head for the door; as he approached, I pushed him hard. He fell against the door--crunch--his head bounced off its surface and I winched as he slid to the ground.

I had two choices, wake up the big guy and apologise or continue with my plan. This was stupid, rolling him over I pulled Cameron into a cubical.

Looking at the sleeping giant I gently touched his face, his beard felt coarse. I turned his head to the left and right, still tormented as to whether I should be doing this--to Cameron of all people.

The guilt shifted again. Then something much stronger crushed it--jealousy.

I'd decided, I wanted to be Cameron, I wanted his massive bear body, be popular and have friends.

I unbuttoned his shirt, lifting his undershirt revealing the fur that covered the slabs of meat that powered his upper body.

This was it; I rubbed my hands and placed an open palm oh his chest. I felt the crunch of his hairs, and his skin warm to my touch.

The change began, I felt a tightness around my waist. With a gasp, I unbuckled my shorts and they dropped to the floor. A familiar queasy feeling rolled in my stomach, and my t-shirt tightened around my torso.

There was a tightness in my neck, and I shrugged my shoulders. Reaching up to my face, I felt stubble scratched my fingertips.

I brought my hand up and peered at it, surprising now thick and strong it was now. The t-shirt protested and I heard threads breaking as I moved.

The warmth I could feel from Cameron was dissipating. Looking down, I smiled. A smile I knew belonged to the real Cameron. He let out a groan and blinked. Slowly his eyes traced their way up my stolen physique. When we came eye to eye, his mouth dropped.

"Sorry buddy, it's not you that's going to be having a fun break it'll be me."

He started to say something, but I pushed hard on his chest. A crack like lightning and Cameron shuddered and relaxed. It was the last phase of my transformation--I'd taken all his memories and experiences and left him as an empty shell.

Excitedly I began to pull off my clothes. I marvelled in the nakedness of my stolen identity, but this just wasn't the place. Taking off Cameron's clothes, I started pull them on. Each item; underwear, shorts, undershirt, and shirt--it made me feel more complete, more Cameron. Finally his chain and cross, I left the cubical and looked at my reflection--a perfect copy.

Returning to the real Cameron, I needed to hide him while I took his place. I knew that the cleaners had been, from now on it'll only be the security that would check the restrooms on their rounds. Now much easily I lifted the empty shell of Cameron over my shoulder, carrying him to a corner of the restroom. Leaning his naked body against the wall I prepared to carry out my final trick. Pushing my hand through his thick hair I held his head. I muttered some words, they dropped off my tongue in a lost language and I released my grip. Cameron's image started to fade, slowly becoming transparent until he'd disappeared entirely.

Admiring my work I reached down and through the air I felt Cameron's body, his hair, and thick beard--he was totally hidden.

I returned to the mirror, this time through illusion, by myself. I smiled Cameron's way, a warming, welcoming smile. Then I heard something, I turned but there was nothing.

There it was again, "I forgive you." Then I realised the voice was coming from inside my head. I'd done this before, but never heard the voice of the person I become.

"I understand," the voice said again, distinctly Cameron.

"Cameron?" I whispered.

"It's just a couple of weeks," I heard the voice again.

"I'm sorry."

"Let's do this together, let me guide you, to be me."

"Sure," I stuttered. This had not happened to me before, I couldn't believe Cameron was not only willing to giving up his body, but also helping me in this way.

Smiling at my reflection I left the restroom with my new wingman for a holiday I was sure to remember.

Caption This (4th July)

(1) NEW STORIES IN THE COMMENTS

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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