A Warning [READ THE TEXT BELOW THE IMAGE]

THE CONTENTS OF THE CAPTION IS ONLY RELEVANT TO WHAT IS WRITTEN BELOW, AND BOTH ARE FROM THE VIEWPOINT OF THE NARRATOR. I DO NOT HATE TRANSFORMATIONAL ARTISTS AND I APPRECIATE THEIR WORK.

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My knowledgeable correspondent called me and told me “to witness a justice served”. He is pretty much fixated on those abusing their transformative powers, as a part of his detective work investigating all those underground transformation ability-users and above-ground communities. I’m more familiar with transgender stuff, and when he told me the whole process will be much of my interest I immediately hopped onto my car, following him.  

One of the safe houses his team has is large enough to hold a chamber for interrogating the captured. Well, this time, he told me, is a serial transformation abilities user who had a particularly notorious record of randomly zipping hapless victims far-away, with a wide range of the ways and end results he had used and done. So incredible, describing them will fill a whole volume.

His arms were tied to the back, blindfolded and gagged. His body was sedated and barely moving. “Move him off to that large glass tank,” he instructed me to help while untying the knot behind the chair. Even in a coma, we still felt the warmth and wobbling weight of the “convict”. The tank had no water but filled almost to the brim with a kind of sugar cube-like salt. The chamber was dim, but the salt still glittered and illuminated the place mildly, flashing like a rainbow, and with a slight gem-like translucence. I might had seen it somewhere before…

Stepping up to the right level, he then told me, “Leave him here”, eyeing the small platform tied to chains. We were careful not to touch the pool of crystal. He lowered the chains and sank the body below the unnatural prisms. The salt swallowed that body like quicksand, sucking and burying the body in, radiantly shining wherever the flesh was touched. “He’s done, get ourselves a drink”, he signaled.

A while later we were back in the chamber, slipping from small flasks of beer. “You’ll see what I mean by “a punishment worse than death sentence”. He raised the platform, much lighter than a medium-build man should be. The body’s hands were still tied, the blindfold and tape were still there, barely moving. But who was it, the one he captured certainly had no soiled safari hat, not the two bright feathers almost falling out? Not the clothing either, the dull red shirt and shorts he had. And I couldn’t even tell if that was a boy or a girl (not even the wimp I just saw), androgynous dark hair and a childish figure. They’d fit into the surrounding wilderness, maybe complete with a blank memory and eagerness to explore the woods. Black gloves and a backpack, make no mistake! The punished was gone, but not so much.

“Incredible! What were you thinking when you bought this tank of transformative crystals? And you are simply using this on him?”

“Ever seen Jurassic Park? Those nearly magical crystals are from a similar facility, partly open as a safari to tourists, off the coast of Japan out of business a few years ago. They used to have loads of wildlife there, trying to experiment with this substance. Something catastrophic happened and the facility was abandoned, nay, destroyed.”

“How does that substance end up here?”

“Some miners are willing to be paid lucrative wages to be on the archipelago, mining them at the threat of unknown mutated wildlife there.”

“Well…” That account wasn’t barely coherent. Maybe he had better contacts in the deep, being more of animate transformation man than myself, but a mineral that’s guaranteed to be more highly priced than diamond for the same woes my correspondent condemned? What was he, another of the transformational predators… on the top of the food chain?

“Well… I just can’t swallow what you have just done. Quite unethical to be blunt”. I told him.

“You haven’t seen the real power of this crystal. You will see what will be done next to compensate the animalized victims.” He signaled me again to remove the tank, the body resting on top of the pool. I couldn’t hesitate, his eyes already sternly focused on my torso.

“As you want.”

Out in the woods, he suddenly kicked over and threw half of the contents of the tank over the patch of grass, the body bumping out. “Oh hey! What are you really thinking?” “You haven’t seen the full potential of this starry sand. In a week some girls right out of the undergrowth will roam here, and I will do a service for the lost.”

I couldn’t even muster my courage to stare at this fiend. I quickly speeded away from the safe house, with only an excuse and farewell, and back into my driver’s seat.

What was the worst that has happened after I left?

 

A raccoon searched through the leaves and branches for something. It wandered around, almost aimlessly, until it saw a rough, glowing outline of a heap. It quickly sneaked towards the pile, where a cover-like and cloud-colored thing rolled off.

A treasure?

 

(If you look at the name of the image file or the tags I have already given the game away.)
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I need a Kemono Maid

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Good Shape... for Benefits!

Guess why she looks and acts like the girls in the previous one-shots.
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Good Shape for Your Job

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Ice Cream of Change

Ice cream was my favorite. Only two kind of people love ice cream: little girls being handed one by parents or whosoever, and fat guys sitting in front of the TV watching reruns. To be honest, I’m the latter. While film goers prefer popcorn and some prefer bags of air (with some potato chips), I gulped loads of ice cream down my throat. In my fridge I always had 2 or 3 flavor, often 4 or 5. Every time I’m in Walmart or anywhere I would buy some ice cream.

I didn’t go out too often since I prefer staying at home outside of work, but sometimes I went to the nearby Six Flags with my 3rd grade boy. Once while walking pass the line of concession stands, my son pointed to a new ice cream stand, located where a bush had been last time we visited. It was not weird for stands to be added or removed, but my son was pulling me to the stand as if there was some attraction compelling him.

“You want ice creams? It takes you a lot of money here, you can have much more at home, and a lot of flavors!” But my son won’t stop pulling me. The attraction might exist, since we saw many other parents buying ice cream scoops for their children, while the candy shop opposite had lost most of their customers. Something might be weird, but still, I was being begged eagerly.

My son instinctively pointed to cookies n’ cream, his favorite and the only flavor he would eat. Defeated, I ordered what he want for him, and a chocolate flavored one for myself.

For some reason, the chocolate ice cream was more deeply flavored than what it seemed. The chocolate was not the one I usually had at home, but one that was crafted by one of the master chocolatiers, and seeped deep into my taste bud. It certainly was worth the popularity it had, and after that visit we would fetch some ice cream there.

Due to my frequent return I came to know the one selling ice creams. A woman in her late 30s, she usually tied her cream-colored hair into a short tail, and wore her own apron on top of the shirt. In fact, she rented an apartment the floor below, something I didn’t realize until meeting her. This meant that we meet quite often not in Six Flags, but much nearer to home.

From her I knew that her ice cream was homemade- I wondered how she could managed the time, but then, every night, while I was comfortably seated, she was working on new flavors restlessly, and this answered the chocolate ice cream’s taste, since she told me she ordered Belgian chocolate in bulk. We became good neighbors and exchanged often.

In return, I shared moments of my daily life, how I went to work and then sat in front of the TV for the rest of the day and night. “That’s not good enough,” she went on to encourage me to change, like when she quit her job to pursue her dream and set up the ice cream stand she had.

She wanted change for me, but not myself. I just wanted more TV time and scoops of ice cream, and she was not listened to at best, if not denied up front. That way, I continued my routine life, and licked from my spoon every night at 2, while my son was sleeping and the TV was on playing a DVD.

One day, she called me to her place, just to discuss her future since she claimed to be moving away to open a new shop on the West Coast. Seated, she ported a cone of mint chocolate ice cream, and which was said to contain some “special ingredients”. I didn’t know what special ingredients it had, but that “This is for me?” “Yes, please enjoy it and treat it as some kind of parting gift.” 

Upon tasting the ice cream with the spoon the woman gave him, the world around the fat guy started spinning. Strangely a mint-colored background, embroidered with chocolate stripes, formed. He thought it was some kind of psychedelic, since he was dazed by the flashy surroundings and the sickness it caused spread to his whole body, and even stranger, he could actually notice the surrounding getting larger, and himself shortening to a mere 4’4”.

Meanwhile, his fat belly disappeared, the fat being moved under the skin to all parts of his body, some to his chest and hips which were a bit thickened. While the shoulders collapsed, the proportions become more of a little girl than a fat guy, and so was the limbs and hands, being more refined and lengthy. Most of the body hair fell off, except those on the head, turning dark beige and growing rapidly, eventually tied into a twintail by an unseen force. The skin took on a lighter color, as smooth as a child. While the head became rounder, the eyes was larger and had amber color instead of the old blue, and the nose and mouth much smaller than before. The T-shift and shorts gave way for a cute chocolate and mint-colored dress, decorated with lushy green bows; new leather shoes and long mint socks replaced the worn sneakers. Finally, at the most intimate part, what had made the transformed one a man was no more, replaced by something appropriate for a little girl.

“Mama makes the best ice cream,” I said. Mama told me something I didn’t understand, “my girl, you are going to lead a new life from now on.”

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