I had this idea for a sort of anthology series something like the old Incredible Hulk TV show from the 70s. I utterly hate "chapters" of stories where nothing happens, so I'm writing this in "episodes" like a TV show, where there is some general concept to the whole season but each episode can stand alone as its own story.
WARNING: This is going to be VERY sexually explicit. Puritans look elsewhere.
It's a story about a girl who becomes a monster, but it's more growth focused than TF focused, which is why I'm putting it here.
Episode 0 is the intro and background. I'm also posting episode 1.
Please tell me what you all think and if this deserves continuing!
To see the proper formatting, check out my deviantart
lecher01.deviantart.com
One last thing, feel free to post these ANYWHERE! Just make sure to give me credit.
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The Morning After
Season 1, Episode 0
Introduction: The Cursebearer and the Confidant
by Lecher
It’s hard to know where to start with all this. I suppose I should start with myself, so you know my very strange role in this even stranger story. My name is William. My friends call me Billy. I am 21 years old. I have a best friend who is a girl. Her name is Robyn, she’s also 21. She periodically turns into a 70 foot rage demon monster that destroys civilization.
So anyway, nice weather we’re having, yeah?
No, I know I can’t just get away with that. Honestly, it’s hard to get this all down. We’ve been at this for like 3 years now. I’ve decided to finally write it all down because there’s no way this whole thing can be stable (please God don’t let this be stable). You’ll see what I mean.
Robyn comes from a family of mystics. I think their bloodline originates somewhere in Druid Europe back in the days of moon worship. Mystics run around with some odd fellows, and apparently Robyn’s great great grandmother pissed off the wrong guy at some point in her life. This man put a curse on her family, that a girl would be born who, on her 18th birthday, would destroy the world when it was at its most vulnerable, and the family would be responsible for the bloodshed of countless innocents. But he never said who. So generations of girls went by, each living a mostly normal life with the mysticism in their roots gradually fading, and the curse was largely forgotten. And then there was Robyn.
I suppose the world was not yet vulnerable enough to destruction until
our generation, what with the population density and how far disconnected we are from nature. We rely on our infrastructure to support us, with so many of us having lost the basic survival skills that sustained our ancestors. It would be easy for an unstoppable monster to wipe civilization out, both directly and indirectly. At least that’s what Robyn and I think.
You might remember me mentioning that this occurs on a somewhat regular basis, and you might rightfully be wondering how that’s possible. Well, it’s because of me. That’s right, I’m your savior. You’re welcome.
Robyn and I first met freshman year of high school. We became fast friends. We were both mostly part of the outgroup, but she was popular among them, if that makes sense. Queen of the outcasts, I guess you could say. She was never shy and actually kind of loud and in-your-face most of the time. Liked attention. Both conventionally and unconventionally pretty. She emanated sex it seemed, or maybe that was just my hormone-filled memory. She had a line of guys who wanted to date her and I was one of them, but thanks to events as of late I’ve tried to put those urges to rest.
Robyn never got along with her family. Her parents were split and her dad was nowhere to be found. I was the closest thing she had. And that’s the only reason I’m still here writing this, and you’re still there reading it. Before you get too confused, allow me to explain.
Robyn’s great great grandmother, after receiving the curse, immediately took it very seriously and went to the oldest sorcerer she knew to see if something could be done. The sorcerer could not remove the curse, but he was able to add a modification to it. He would tie the soul of the Cursebearer to the soul of another, called the Confidant. The Confidant would be the one who knew the Cursebearer best, who was the closest to her. The gift of the Confidant was that he or she would be able to undo all the damage the Cursebearer would cause during her transformation, and to eventually be able to solve the curse all together. The Confidant would not only save the world, but also the soul of the poor Cursebearer.
The process was simple. The Cursebearer would transform and begin her destruction of the world, but upon killing the Confidant, all time and space would rearrange and the two of them would awaken the next day as if nothing had happened, but retaining all their memories. Everyone else in the world would be none the wiser. (We have a theory that the killing of the Confidant would awaken both of them in an alternate universe where the Cursebearer had never transformed and never killed anyone.) The idea was that if they could get through her 18th birthday, they would be in the clear. And all you had to do was kill the Confidant.
Fan. Tastic.
Well who knew that old magic people would tend to oversimplify things. Obviously, I became the Confidant. And yes, I got killed when she first turned. It was at a teen night at a nightclub, for her birthday of course, and I was crushed by the rubble after she outgrew her clubbing outfit first, and then the rest of the nightclub. I don’t think I ever saw what she ended up looking like. It was pretty quick, really, and it didn’t hurt all that much. Next thing I knew, I just woke up in my bed. It was the next day. I thought the whole thing was a dream, but after calling Robyn we determined something really strange had happened.
We didn’t know what was going on the second time she transformed. It was the day after her 18th birthday, actually. She was really stressed out from not being able to remember what “really” happened the night before and she burst out of her clothes in the middle of my driveway. I think she crushed me herself that time.
Now it’s 3 years later and as you can see, we’ve been able to piece together quite a bit of the story in that amount of time. We are, however, no closer to a “cure” than we were 3 years ago. We don’t really know what triggers the transformations. There’s a definite stress component, but then again I’ve seen her have extended shouting matches with her mom with not so much as a stich of clothing popped. Likewise, there was the time she transformed during her yoga elective at school. Just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.
We’re still both only 21 and we can’t really afford to travel the world looking for super secret magi to help us with this. We still need to try to lead normal lives and just be thankful for my “gift.” We never quite know which time will be the last, so we really can’t just give up on our lives. We are always together because we don’t want to stray from the strict rules of the curse in any way. I’ve thought about carrying cyanide pills, or even a gun, just to end things when I first see her start turning, but I’m not sure if anything else is allowed to kill me but her. If I screw it up, not only am I dead for good, but the world we end up in is finally destroyed. So for now I must do my best to be the first victim of a crazy magical female personification of the apocalypse. If she transforms while I’m not with her (and she has a couple of times), then I need to run towards the center of destruction with hopes to end it all quickly.
So this is the life we’ve been living for the past 3 years. So far, Robyn has killed me 14 times. Each time, we both wake up the next day and everything is just dandy. The world is turning, and people are going on like normal. And me? I’m in the weirdest fucking adaptation of Groundhog’s Day you can imagine.
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Clearly, it’s not exactly a simple situation. And I wish I could tell you that was it, but there is an additional complication. Lately, Robyn has begun to act…strangely. During her first several transformations, she acted like you’d imagine anyone would. Shock, confusion, disbelief, all that. But then she began to express what I can only describe as calm submission. The transformations were still chaotic and upsetting for sure, but it was almost like she was trying to take the experience in and be more present in those moments, be more aware of her clothes tearing from her body, of her frame outgrowing whatever confines she was in, of the people reacting to the surreal event happening before them, of her mind letting go of all the day-to-day human concerns and slowly slipping into destructive, violent madness.
Not only that, but for the past couple of weeks before her most recent transformation she has been definitely acting differently. Most noticeably was how she was dressing. She started wearing everything really tight, almost like she was buying down one size. Even her shoes and sandals looked a half size smaller. The first thing I wondered was if her curse had taken on a different form and switched from rapid to slow acting. The first stages of the transformation were always more of a straight growth of her frame without any of the major monsterly qualities developing until she was larger (and largely naked), so I wondered if we were witnessing an extremely slow initial growth stage. But no, that wasn’t it, nor had she put on extra weight. She really was just buying smaller clothes.
The clothing was also of a different style than she’d usually worn. Her style was now really revealing, like borderline inappropriate. She was never a shy girl and actually liked showing off quite a bit, but she would save it for that rare huge houseparty or some similar such event, whereas recently she was doing it every day. We’re talking to class, to the mall, to the supermarket, to her part-time job at the office. And it wasn’t just that she was wearing stuff that showed more skin, but it seemed…flimsier? If that makes sense?
I recall one time when we were eating at a diner. She was in a short dress, very tight (as per her new stylistic choices), and slip-on heeled sandals with a few straps crossing over the toes. We had finished our meal, I paid and was getting up to leave, but as we got up I heard a distinct snap. Robyn gasped and looked down at her feet. I saw her grip the table with one hand and start breathing rapidly. I looked down to see that one of the sandal straps on her right foot had broken. My heart raced. For a second I thought we might be dealing with another “incident,” but I quickly realized that wasn’t the case. When I looked back at Robyn I saw her face was flushed. A few moments hung in the air, then she spoke.
“False alarm…just a wardrobe malfunction,” she said with a half-hearted smile.
Did she seem a little bit...disappointed?
“Good thing,” I said.
I shrugged off the oddness of it and we went on our way. I couldn’t really put together what her behavior meant. At that time, it was mostly innocuous if not just a tiny bit odd. Later that night we were in her room watching movies when I saw another peculiar thing. I caught a glimpse of a pair of panties on the floor, partway torn through in two places, where the band would contact the hips. They looked like they had been partially cut with a scissor or knife. Again, this was another sort-of-odd-but-I’ll-shrug-it-off thing. For all I knew she had bought those too tight too and needed to get some room. But things sure came together after her most recent transformation, especially in the discussion we had the day after.