Transference – Chapter 7 – The Confrontation – by lostandwhatever

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Continued from Chapter 6.

Mark drove home and struggled to keep his eyes on the road. He kept checking the clock on the dashboard. It read 10:54 p.m. A minute ago it had read 10:53. Soon he would check again and again until it read 10:55. He tapped a finger on the steering wheel with no regular rhythm. He was working out energy that felt like it would burst out of him.

What was happening at home? he thought again and again.

The last two texts he had sent home had gone unanswered. That could mean several things. It might be that they had started the program and entered the machine, and so they might be finishing up their transference right now. Or, it might be that it all had gone wrong somehow. Maybe he had miscalculated. Maybe the program was faulty or the repairs had failed, and they would return home to find the two of them locked in their chambers in some state of unconsciousness, minds confused, mentally lost to the world. That would be the end of the game. There would be no hiding it from Melissa then. He would have to take drastic measures. He might be able to use the unconsciousness beam weapon on her to keep her incapacitated while he sorted things out. That would be hard to explain, though. He would have to fiddle with Melissa’s memories in that case, which might only make things worse, and things were bad enough already.

He should have been there, he decided. He should have found a way to be there in person for the transference. It would have been safer. Now, he had to face the truth: he was a coward. He could admit it to himself: a coward. He was too scared to do it himself. Now, there was this uncertainty. Possibly there was a disaster waiting for him at home. He should have found the guts to actually do it himself.

“I really liked that movie. Didn’t you?” his wife asked.

If you had tortured him, he could not have told you the name of the movie they had seen or even what the movie was about. He could not focus on the film at all. His mind kept retreating back to his home and what might be happening there. “Yes,” he said. “It was good.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Melissa asked him.

“What?” he said. “What do you mean?”

“You’re sweating.”

“Oh,” he said and wiped his brow dry on his sleeve. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down sick or something.”

“Well, we’ll be home soon.  You can get some rest then,” Melissa said. “Just take it easy until get there. You’re speeding a bit.”

He let the car slow down and tried to calm himself. “Right,” he said. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not w-”

“We’re all good. Nothing to worry about. No problems.” He tapped his whole hand on the steering wheel now.

He could feel her giving him a suspicious look, so he tried to act natural and held the wheel with both hands firmly.

They rounded a corner, and there was their home. Nothing appeared to be wrong from the street. Although if something had gone wrong, then there would be no sign of it outside, unless, of course, things had gone catastrophically wrong.

Mark opened the garage door and parked the car. They got out, shut the garage door, and entered the house. Mark tried to prepare himself for the worst.

The babysitter was sitting alone at the kitchen table, reading something on her cell phone.

Mark saw her and was relieved for a moment until he realized he did not know who he was looking at right now. Was it his partner, Julie, or his daughter, Katie?

“Hello, Julie,” his wife said. “I take it that Katie is sleeping.”

The babysitter looked up from her phone and smiled at Mark and his wife. “Hi there!” she said in a chipper voice. “Welcome back! Yeah, Katie is sleeping in her crib. She’s all tuckered out.”

“Did you have any problems?” his wife asked.

“None at all,” the babysitter said. “Everything went exactly to plan.” She looked at Mark and gave him a slight wink.

He breathed a sigh of relief. This had to be Julie. He had been worrying over nothing. Everything had gone perfectly. Why had he doubted himself? Of course it had all worked out.

“Good to hear,” his wife said and took off her jacket. “Mark, could hang this up for me, please? I’m going to pay Julie her money.”

“Um, sure,” he said. He took her jacket and headed for the closet with a faint smile on his lips. The nightmare was finally over.

The women followed him into the front room of the house. Then, Melissa dug out some twenties from her purse and handed them to the babysitter. “That should be enough. Right?”

“Oh, that’s plenty,” she said as Mark finished hanging up their jackets. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s been a quite an evening, but I guess I should be going, now.”

“Goodnight,” Mark said. “And, thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Yes,” his wife said. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” the babysitter said and then she paused when her fingers touched the doorknob. “Actually, I did have a couple of things I needed to tell you, Mrs. Smith.”

Mark frowned. “What?” he said.

The babysitter walked past Mark close enough to brush her fingers gently against his chest. Then, she headed over to their couch and sat down in the middle of it by herself. She crossed her legs and spread her arms wide on the top of the couch behind her.

“First,” she said to his wife. “I have a bit of a confession… or a revelation… about you husband.”

Mark cursed under his breath. What was she doing?

“What about my husband?” his wife asked.

“He’s been doing some things behind your back that you’re not aware of.”

“What do you mean?”

Mark felt himself start to sweat again. What the hell was she doing? Was this really Katie? What was she about to tell his wife? He glanced towards the box in which he hid his unconscious beam weapon. He needed to act fast before she said anything. “Julie,” he said as he backed away towards the box. “Hold on a second.”

She ignored him and kept talking, “Mrs. Smith, your husband has been having an affair… with me. Well, not really me, just this body. I’m not really me. I’m actually Katie… or I was. It’s a bit confusing, you see.”

Mark’s fingers touched the box. Without looking at it, he opened it up.

“That’s the second thing. You’re husband has been downstairs playing around with his machine, swapping his daughter and mistress’ minds.”

His wife said, “What are you talking about? What is this? Mark?” She turned to her husband.

Mark’s hand was inside the box fishing around for the unconsciousness beam weapon, but he could not find it in there. The weapon was missing.

“Looking for this?” Katie said. Mark and his wife turned to see her pull the weapon out from behind a pillow on the couch. She aimed it at them and rested a finger on the trigger. “Hands up where I can see them, please.”

Mark held his hands up.

“What the hell is going on?” his wife asked. She raised her hands as well when she saw Mark had his hands up. “What is that thing?”

“It’s a stun gun,” Katie said. “Though, Mark called it an ‘unconsciousness beam’ in his notes.” She pointed it at him. “Seriously? That’s what you came up with for a name?”

“How did you find that?” he asked.

“Well, it was in your favorite little box where you like to hide all of your secret toys. I guess Julie knew about the box, so now I know about it as well.” She smiled. “I know about so much now.”

Mark’s mind raced as he tried to think of a way to stop her. He realized he was mostly out of options now.

“Sit down,” Katie said as she waved the gun at the two other chairs in the room.

His confused and frightened wife followed the command and kept her hands raised as she sat on a chair.

But, Mark did not move. “Why?” he asked. “Why do we need to sit?”

“I don’t want you to hit your head when you pass out,” Katie said.

Mark made a desperate lunge for the weapon that caught Katie off guard, but she was too far away for him to reach her before she pulled the trigger.

There was a momentary hum. Then, Mark felt his body go limp, and he dropped to the floor, landing painfully on his face. He heard his wife cry, “Mark!” as his mind was dimming away. Then, the weapon hummed again, and his wife was silent. Then, everything went silent and dark.

To be continued in Chapter 8 – The Revelation

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I write mature transformation fiction: fantasy and sci-fi stories where characters change ages, sizes, genders, etc. | lostandwhatever@gmail.com | DeviantArt | Patreon | Ko-Fi

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