“I am a magical girl, defender of the people. And I will defeat you villains,” a girl with fiery red hair said, striking a pose with her raised fist her gauntlets covered in fire.
She woke up with a start.
Damn magical girls are infecting my dreams now.
She groaned and rolled over, grabbing her cell to check the time. It was just after eight and her head was throbbing. After the events of Friday, she may have stopped off for some liquid indulgence. And may have ended up spending the last two days in a drunken stupor.
She wasn't about to confirm any details.
Thankfully, she didn't need to head in until later. Not that they really cared anyway. She was sure they weren't even looking at any of the things they had her doing. She was essentially relegated to being part of the office decor.
Reluctantly, she climbed out of her comfortable bed and walked to the bathroom. Her head was pounding in time with every step she took. While the water heated up she used the bathroom. Hopping under the water when it finally warmed up, she scrubbed herself down as quickly as she could. This was always the worst part of her mornings. Ever since her teenage years she dreaded seeing her naked body.
“Magical girls…” she mused, while she fought the urge to vomit. Trying to distract her from her onerous task.
It was honestly hard to believe, and if she hadn’t witnessed it personally she wouldn't believe it. Back when she was a little girl, she loved magical girl cartoons, though the little boy she was pretending to be would staunchly refute that.
“I wish I could have transitioned as a kid,” she sighed. Even though she knew that she would have fought against it at the time.
If I could go back while keeping all my memories, I would transition then. It wasn't as common when she was a kid, but there were still enough people that it would have been an option for her. Finishing her shower she dried off and got dressed.
On a whim she searched through the streaming apps on her phone till she found Magical Girl Moon, her favorite show growing up. She started the first episode and poured herself some coffee. Tears filled her eyes as she reminisced.
The show was a product of its time, poor effects, bad voice acting, and terrible plot. But it brought back fond memories. She poured some Irish whiskey in her coffee and sipped it as she traveled down memory lane. After a couple of episodes, her stomach gurgled. She sighed and went back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
Today she was going to finally try using the makeup she bought months ago.
*****
Her makeup wasn’t that good. Even though she spent nearly an hour on it. Most of it was removed, but she did manage to put on some concealer. On her way to work, she stopped off at her favorite diner. A nice little place she discovered when she once responded to a drunken disturbance here. At that time she remembered thinking that the food smelled delicious, vowing to return when she was off duty.
“Hello, Miss,” the waitress greeted her when she walked through the door. “I have your usual booth.” She grabbed a menu and led J to a nice corner booth, set near the kitchen, where she could talk to the chef when he wasn't too busy.
She considered ordering her regular but decided to order something a little sweeter, so she got a stack of pancakes with fruit and whipped cream. With a vanilla root beer shake.
“Feeling a little down Hun?” the waitress asked after taking her order.
“A little,” she said. “Work’s not going well, life’s not going well, and the world’s not going well.”
“Well, you know what they say. It's the darkest just before dawn. I'm sure your dawn will come soon, darling,” she said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Hopefully,” she said, faking a smile. She didn't really see any way her life could get better. At most, she could try and transition. But she had missed out so much time already.
She fell deep into thought while waiting for her food, the magical girl occupying most of it. She still wasn’t sure if that even happened, or if it was just her mind having a psychotic break. Even if it were real, she knew she couldn't tell anyone. Seeing a cute blue magical girl fighting an evil shadow demon would be just the excuse they needed to force her to retire before she could collect her pension, or fire her.
Figuring there's nothing she could do about the magical girl anyway, her mind drifted back to the case against the mob. No matter what she did, they always slipped through her fingers. It was suspicious; she suspected that they must have an insider working for them. Though, she was loath to suspect any of her fellow officers.
Her musing was interrupted by the waitress returning with her food. Which was satisfying and delicious, lighting her face up in joy. All that was missing would be a friend to share with.
Preferably, a couple of them.
The food was amazing, almost euphoric. Just like that day nearly a year ago when she had finally realized what was wrong her entire life.
She had the news on, and the anchor was conducting an interview with a famous trans actor Annabelle. She was being interviewed about her latest movie, where she played a trans teen. She recounted the story of her transition and the events leading up to her discovery and how it helped with her performance.
J had known trans people existed, and supported their decision. But she had always assumed that trans people knew they were. But the actor had told the interviewer that she didn't even realize she was a few months before filming the movie. She had gone one to describe the subtle wrongness she had always felt.
Further explaining her feelings and thoughts. Jake remembered that she had felt much the same. So after the interview she went onto the forumly site, specifically to look for information on trans people.
That's when she stumbled on trans_irl, several hours of browsing later she had concluded that she was trans. It took a few more months before the depression forced her to socially transition. Even though her work suffered, it was worth it.
All good things eventually come to an end however, and she finished her meal. With a heavy heart, it was time to get back to the grind.
*****
She was on patrol, an actual patrol not stuck behind a desk shuffling papers around. It was in the old industrial district, but she didn't really mind. Anything to escape the tedium of paperwork. The stress of everything lately has been getting to her. Forcing her to take back up smoking. She knew these things were going to be the death of her someday. Taking a long drag of the cigarette, she dropped the butt on the ground and stomped it out.
“Miss J, officers Price and Jones are requesting backup near your location, please respond,” Ashley's voice came through the radio. She had been one of the good ones. Grabbing the receiver she gave an affirmative hopping in the car.
“Yea, I'm here, give me the address, and I'll head over.”
“Thanks, it's one three eight one seven industrial parkway.”
“Okay, heading there now,” she replied, letting it be snapped back by the retractable holder.
The building in question wasn't too far away. In fact, she believed it was the old car factory that was once owned by the mob. The original one, not the one she was investigating. She arrived pretty quickly, finding both officers already standing by a gate that looked like it was cut open.
“What's the situation?” She asked once she was close enough.
“Someone called in about a break in. We were investigating nearby and got the call. Called in for backup when we saw the number of footprints,” one of the men, Andrew Price pointed to a collection of footprints.
“There are five different sets here,” she said. “Looks like they were agitated about something. One of them took off that way.” She gestured back towards the street. “The rest went inside.”
“Where we should be heading,” the other man, Edward Jones, said.
“Lead the way,” Price said, gesturing at J.
She stood and nodded her head before drawing her service weapon and heading inside. The other officers followed just behind her, their weapons out as they scanned the perimeter. The sounds were strange, their footsteps sounded muffled. Yet every small sound seemed unnaturally loud. One of the men kicked a pebble and it sounded like a boulder bouncing off the walls. Despite that they didn't see or hear anyone. Even the sounds of the city sounded muffled and distorted.
She raised her hand and signaled to a door that was knocked off its hinges. There was shattered glass all around it and a few drops of blood. Kneeling down she saw that the blood drops trailed off inside.
“Someone’s injured,” she whispered.
Taking a flashlight from her belt she turned it on and led the way inside. The officers behind her taking out their own and following. While she followed the blood drops she made sure to keep an eye on her surroundings. They dared not turn on any lights and give away their presence any further.
Her nerves were taut, her instincts screaming at her that something was amiss. But no one jumped out to surprise her. No gunshots rang out in the dark. She desperately wanted to leave this place but she shook her head and proceeded in. The blood drops led to a big heavy metal door, one of those massive industrial ones with a bolt to close it.
She walked over to the door and grabbed the handle, sliding it open as carefully as she could. The rusted metal squealed a little, sounding like the call of some strange beast. She flinched and looked around, making sure no one was coming to investigate. After a minute of waiting she pulled the door open and looked inside.
The room was small, with some sort of vents in the back. Lying on the ground inside was a man who appeared to be in his twenties. A pool of blood spread out underneath him. Swearing to herself she went inside and checked the man. He was somehow still alive. His breathing was ragged, his skin taking on a pale appearance. She chastised herself for leaving her radio behind.
“Do either of you have a radio? This man needs medical assistance immediately,” she asked, not looking up. Ripping off the man's shirt she looked for the source of the blood and saw a small piercing wound on his chest. Bundling up his shirt she pressed on it to stop the bleeding.
“What are you waiting for? Go get help,” she said, turning to look at the men.
“Yea we’re not gonna do that,” Price said, a menacing smile on his face. He was standing in the doorway blocking her escape.
She looked for her gun but found it missing.
“Looking for this?” Edward asked, holding up her gun.
“What are you two doing…? We have a job to do.”
“Ah, you see we do have a job. And you’re standing in the way of that. And our boss decided he was done tolerating your white knighting.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know the history of this place?” He continued ignoring her question. “A hundred years ago it was owned by the mob. It was used as a front and occasionally to dispose of people who stood in their way. When their boss was arrested this factory was seized.”
“What does this have to do with anything? This man is dying.”
“Well the former boss's grandson bought it when he restarted the family business. And you are interfering. So he told us to get rid of you.”
“What are you saying…?”
“Quit messing with him,” Price said, a look of disdain on his face. “Put this pathetic excuse for a man out of our misery.”
Edward looked at the man and shrugged his shoulders before turning back to price.
“This isn't personal,'' he said. “You understand right? It's just business. For what it's worth I think you're brave. Stupid, but brave.”
He pointed his gun at her and pulled the trigger. She watched in horror, the whole world seemed to slow down as the gun went off. The bullet punched its way through her body.
“Take care, I'm sure that your real name will be used on your headstone,” Price said with a sneer.
She stared in horror, endless regrets filling her as she watched them turn and heard the door close. The bolt squealed as it slid into place. With horror she felt her lifeblood draining onto the ground beneath her.
“Seems like I got here just in time, hi it's nice to meet you,” a small red ferret girl said, her voice gentle and soft.
