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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Donuts of the Damned"  The girls—except for Eva, who continues to glare at Cindy—stare at you. The oldest of the quartet says, "Shit." Lucy! Cindy's older sister, that's who she is! She was a senior at Westside when you were a sophomore! God, she was gorgeous. She still is. She has the same sheets of platinum hair as Cindy, the same translucent skin and full figure, the same pie-pan face that any guy would give his left kidney to cradle between his hands. She's got something more, though, maybe because she's more mature. She's got a ripeness the others lack. Cindy is a peach, but she's a slightly immature one, still firm and a little raw. Lucy would be tender, yielding flesh and warm juice on your face, and she's so big and there's much of her— "Oh God, he's getting an erection again!" Jessica squeals in disgust. "And no one thought to bring another mask?" Lucy says. "Maybe we could hit him over the head with a two by four," Eva says. "He's just standing there. You'd let us knock you cold with a two by four, wouldn't you, Will?" She turns on a coquettish, simpering smile. "Wouldn't you?" "Gyuh?" you say. Lucy sighs. "Well, dammit. I suppose this calls for a change of plan." She smiles tightly at you. "Hi, Will." Everyone looks at everyone else. Jessica finally nudges Cindy. "Well, go on," she says. "What?" "He's your fucking friend." Her eyes go very wide. "So? You mean I'm supposed to—?" "Alright, that's enough," Lucy says. She frowns. "The trouble is that we don't have any of our own clothes here. So I guess—" She sucks on her lip. "Tilley, it looks like you're volunteered." "For what?" Cindy gasps. "Grab him, guys," Lucy says. "Tilley," she adds when no one moves. Cindy shrieks as Eva and Jessica lay hands on her. You jump back with a pounding heart as Lucy lunges for Cindy's face. There's a four girl scrum. Cindy screams weakly and the others shout. The girl-pile falls against one of the walls, then tumbles to the floor with Lucy on top. Everyone goes very tense. Then with a long sigh, Lucy stands up. "Okay, Will," she says, turning to you. "I guess the first thing is to have you look at this." She holds out a bluish object, This has all been a huge shock, and part of you wants to jump out the window and run. But you don't. While keeping one eye cocked warily on Lucy, you lean forward to peer at the object. It's a mask. Like the one that dropped off you in the other bedroom. It's an oval shape, with bumps and ridges where the nose, lips, brow and cheekbones would go, and shallow depressions—there are no eye holes—where the eyes would be. It's a burnish blue color, and it glows like the midday sky. "Yeah?" you say. "So what's that?" "It's a mask," Lucy says. "But it's not just any kind of a mask. This one—" She breaks off. "Well, look at this side of it." She flips it over. The inner surface is blue like the outer surface. But there are marks on it: blue scratches that shine with a very fierce light, like neon. She turns the mask around, and the scratches resolve into a name: CINDY CYNTHIA VREDENBURG. Oddly, they seem to float above the surface of the mask, like a 3D image. "It's a mask of Cindy," Lucy says. "If you put it on, you will look like Cindy." "Uh huh," you say. "That's usually what Halloween masks do." "This isn't a Halloween mask, Will," she says in a very grave tone. "It fooled you into thinking he was Cindy. Just like the mask I'm wearing is fooling you into thinking I'm her sister, Lucy." You can only blink at this. She's making no sense. "Look," she says, and steps aside. She points down at Cindy. Except it's not Cindy sprawled on the floor between Eva and Jessica. Oh, the clothes are the same, but the head is different. The long, platinum hair is gone, replaced by a dark, brutal buzz cut. The complexion is spotty and a little bony. You're completely repulsed, for you have the immediate impression that Cindy's entire head is being eaten up by leprosy. Then you realize it's the face of a guy. You twist your head about for a better view. Oh, God. It's Keith! Your friend Keith, who you left back at the donut shop. He's laying there, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape, wearing Cindy's clothes! You shudder at the skinny, hair legs that are sticking out from under her skirt. "What the—?" "Pretty disgusting, isn't it?" Eva says. "The fuck is this?" you yell. "How did he—?" "Like I said, Will," Lucy says. "He was wearing this mask, and it fooled you. But we got it off him, and now you see who it really was." You stare and stare at her. With a deep sigh she crouches next to Tilley's head. "Watch," she says. She drops the mask onto him. What happens next is like a "jump cut" inside reality. The mask vanishes ... And instantly Keith's head disappears. It's Cindy there instead, just as beautiful as before. Only asleep. "And here it goes again," Lucy says. She splays her hand across Lucy's brow, mutters under her breath, and pulls. A mask comes away in her hand, and beneath it is Keith's face. "Here," Lucy continues, and you jump back as she holds the mask out to you. "Do you want to try it on?" * * * * * Well, you didn't, for you still didn't quite believe it, not even after Eva had taken her own face off, revealing Michael Hollister, and Jessica had taken hers off, revealing Carlos Montoya, and Lucy had been revealed as Philip Fairfax. In each case, the guy was asleep under the mask and had to be slapped awake, and they fell asleep again when putting the masks back on. "It seems to be a kind of fail-safe mechanism," Philip says when you ask about that. "Maybe it's to keep you from hurting yourself while the transformation is taking place." Like Mike and Carlos and Keith, he is wearing his own face, but like them he has wrapped himself in a blanket. They are all dressed underneath in the girls' things, but everyone seems to agree that it's very gross to look at each other's male, teenaged bodies dressed that way. And how are he and the others able to accomplish these transformations? "We got a book shows how to do it," Carlos says. "I got it—" "We got it from a guy who didn't know what it was," Philip interrupts. "It was in Latin, and he couldn't read Latin." "Neither could you," Carlos retorts. "I have the patience to try deciphering it," Philip replies. He says it in a very patient voice, and everything he says he says patiently. He's a red-head with a crew cut, but he has none of Mike's (another red-head) excitability. "So you've been disguising yourselves as ... ?" you stammer. "But where are the real girls?" You glare at Keith. "Who's that asshole back Don's Donuts!" Keith grins weakly. "He's covering for me." "He's a beta," Philips says. "A kind of magical robot. The book shows you how to make those, too. We each have one. They have to obey us and we've left them behind to, as Keith says, cover for us." "But where's the real Cindy?" You hate the shrillness that has crept into your voice. "They're okay, totally safe," Philip says. "They're asleep. Just, uh, hidden." You notice the Mike and Carlos exchanging some sly smirks. "And this is just a temporary trade. We're conducting a sociological experiment." He frowns at Mike when the latter snickers. "What kind of experiment?" Philip is being very reassuring, but the others are making you nervous with their quiet laughter. Except for Keith, who looks mortified. "Well, it's an experiment on you," Philip says, and you start. "We've been trying to see if there's a way of making you, uhwell popular." Your jaw drops. "Come off it, Will," Keith says. "You know that no one likes to hang out with us. You and me and Caleb." "That's a little harsh," Carlos says. He turns to you. "You just don't try," he says in a pitying tone. "You have certain 'cloaked' quality, Will," Philip says. "You escape notice. We've been trying to raise your profile, by giving you a makeover and taking you out and talking about you on social media. It seems to be working. You've made a splash since we bought you those new things." You're suddenly conscious of your clothes, and you lift your new hat to rub self-consciously at your scalp. "Why?" you blurt out. "Oh, just to see if it can be done. You can credit Keith here for the idea." "You were all complaining about how low status you were," Keith says. "I mentioned that to the guys, and suddenly we all got the idea it would be fun to see if we could push you up in the world. We already got ourselves pretty high," he brags, "after we turned ourselves into cheerleaders!" You can't help feeling a spiteful stab. Keith is your friend, you thought, and he went off to do these things with Carlos and Mike and Philip, and he didn't bring you along? Jesus, that's cold. "But now that you know what's going on," Philip says, "what do you want to do about it? Just go on as yourself, like before? But not, uh, telling anyone about what's going on? Or would you like to, uh—?" A little pink creeps into his cheeks as he opens up the blanket he's wrapped in, to show off the cute skirt and top he's wearing. "There are any number of people you could impersonate, and use to help your own elevation." "What about that?" Carlos asks, and he jerks his head at the thing on the bed. You've not examined it closely, but it looks like a crude, unfinished, featureless statue. "I'm not sure that's anything Will would be interested in," Philip says primly. * To continue: "The Magical Transvestites, Part 2" |
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