Katie-the-Angel-Witch

Okay, winter is really kicking my ass in terms of writing. You know what else is kicking my ass? Dread over the fact I'm neck deep in debt I got into for survival reasons which I am having trouble covering with just my patreon, which is why I have a gofundme up. You might have seen the link in a recent status post from me. Bottom line: I'm at 1945/4700, and it would make my year if I could take care of at least one debt, which could happen if we reach 2632, so help a girl out, cause if I don't deal with this I won't be able to write anymore.

Oh also CW for Misgendering and Body Horror.

It was honestly a miracle we all fit in the car; even with Blake volunteering to go in the trunk, that still meant five people squeezing in a car built for four at best, with Emily staying at my place for pretty obvious reasons. The moment we got in, Mom popped the glove compartment and swallowed a pair of caffeine pills, sighing through her teeth. “Okay. What’s your plan for facing whatever got spawned?” Her eyes were focused on the road, and as such she didn’t see all of us shrug. 

“No clue until we see it. I hope it’s nothing too powerful.” Clara spoke up from the back seat, earning agreeable murmurs from Aleah. 

“I-it spawned because of me. I think that it, it’ll probably be as big as the outing one,” I replied, while Mom growled and sped up. 

“We didn’t actually establish your gear yet, have we? I know Clara’s got a spear and that weird clone spawning thing she can teleport into, not sure about the rest,” Mom said, while turning a corner. 

“I’m a witch with fortune telling, Ellie is a ranger with… was it invisibility, babe?” I saw Aleah turn to Ellie with the rearview mirror, as well as Ellie shrugging. “Oh right, we never figured out your extra skill. Blake’s got a labrys they can use to open up tears in stuff and punch through them.”

“A-and I have my Lucid Dreaming, plus my wand can change f-from a sickle to a morningstar,”  I added while fidgeting with my hands. 

“I don’t think your Lucid Dreaming counts as your actual power, pretty sure it’s just a you thing,” Clara offered, and I shrugged, unsure of what more to say. Turns out there wasn’t more to say anyway as Mom stopped the car, and we all looked outside. 

The school was underneath a massive bubble, one whose outside texture gave the impression of clear, see through skin, with veins all over it. As we exited the car, letting Blake out of the trunk, we all transformed and cautiously approached the edge of the barrier. It felt impassable as we touched it, but Blake simply used their labrys and cut an opening right through it, the barrier shaking as they did so, followed up by a hiss of fresh air flowing in. Stepping in required us touching the barrier to spread it, and it felt like freshly cut chicken breast upon contact. I only use this comparison as I have never cut myself, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have touched the inside of the wound; I’m not stupid. The hiss of fresh air entering the bubble did not help much with the air inside, which heavily smelled of iron and was so humid the air was basically water. What was most striking was the flakes flowing through the air, traveling towards what seemed to be the center, each and every flake looking like an upsized red blood cell. “Hold on, kids, one sec,” Mom called from the entrance, as she ran to the car and shortly thereafter returned with face masks for each of us. “Don’t want any of you breathing in the particulates.”

I was expecting it to be deathly quiet in the halls, but there was a constant hum, like water flowing past my ears, in rhythm with the flakes in the air. All of them were leading us to the gym, the doors of which we were quickly approaching, but before Mom could open them, Aleah held up a hand, and motioned for us to follow her into the girl’s locker room. Quiet sobs came from a corner, ones we could only hear once inside, and we followed them to their source: a group of cheerleaders that had practice that day. Mom approached them first, shotgun lowered at her side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, tell us what happened.” 

The one in the center looked up at Mom: Shoulder length blonde hair in a ponytail, makeup running down her face like an Olympic sprinter, her skin the shade of orange you can only get from a tanning bed. “We, we were all watching a video on Twitter, and and and Marcy recognized the kid at the start from her math class, and then she told us about him -- holy shit, he’s here, this is your fault, you fucking tr--” Mom slightly lifted the shotgun, grabbing the barrel with her free hand, interrupting the cheerleader.

“Now you choose your next words carefully, young lady, because that charming young woman happens to be my daughter.” Mom looked her right in the eyes, making the cheerleader gulp.

“When we realised who h--” Mom gripped the shotgun tighter and lifted it up just a little bit, causing the cheerleader to cough to clear her throat “When we realised who she was, we had a discussion about how to proceed with… welcoming the new girl at school.” She was sweating; correction on the tan being from beds, it was sprayed on, poorly at that. 

“Mhmm, and why would such behavior cause a Nightmare born of Transphobia to manifest, have you any idea?” Mom asked, standing up from the crouching position she had been in while talking, looking down at the cheerleaders with an unfamiliar glint in her eyes.

“Nightmare born of Transphobia, what?” another of the cheerleaders asked.

“You caused the monster to appear by shit talking my daughter. Apologise.”  Mom’s gaze was intense and terrifying and most of all made the cheerleaders start sobbing uncontrollably.

“We’re sooooooorryyyyyy,” a few of them cried out in unison, which earned them an eye roll from Clara.

“Alright, you normies get the fuck out, the queers have to clean up the mess you caused just like usual.” Clara turned on her heel and walked out of the locker room and right into the gym, with the rest of us shortly on her tail. When we arrived, we saw our prey. 

It was hanging from the ceiling, its body bipedal, the legs long and thin and without feet, looking more like fleshy spikes than actual legs. Its arms were similarly pointy, but they had long flaps of skin hanging off of them, like a pair of messed-up wings, wings that had numerous eyes on them which opened up as we entered. Its head was egg-shaped, nearly without features; the only one was its hair, hair that was cut in the classic Karen way. It definitely didn’t lack a mouth completely, however, as what appeared to be one sat vertically between its legs, going from where the asshole would be to the where the clit would be on a human. And that mouth did its best approximation of grinning when the Nightmare saw us. It jumped down from its perch, and I could finally clearly see the hole in its chest, where a heart would be, through which the flakes in the air were flowing, circulating, the Nightmare’s zone of influence being one big external blood flow machine. 

It started laughing, and talking. “Oh good, good, you all came, I can tear the delusional freak the gaping wound he so desires, and then feed on his despair forever more.” It was cackling, approaching us with a strut that was sexualised but off in its movements. Mom didn’t take any chance, though. Before any of us had our weapons drawn, she walked forward, shotgun firmly in hand. 

“It is my medical opinion that you have a critical metal deficit.” With those words, she stuck her shotgun right in the Nightmare’s crotch mouth. “Eat lead, shithead.” The sound of the blast echoed throughout the gym as the Nightmare flew back, screeching, bleeding and losing teeth. That wasn’t what caught everyone’s eyes, though. What caught everyone’s eyes was the light quickly engulfing the barrel of the shotgun, climbing up Mom until she was glowing like we all did during our transformations. When the light poofed away, she stood there, looking awe-inspiring. Her doctor’s coat had shoulders fortified with leather, and was beautifully embroidered with the staff of Hermes Trismegistus in red thread on her back, the snakes detailed to the point of individual raised scales. Underneath it, an untucked shirt, the same staff embroidered on its left side, with a short leather apron covering the front, one which held a number of surgical tools. Tall leather boots and tight pants took care of covering the legs, while on her face a mask with a short, plague-doctor-like short beak sat over her mouth and nose. And that’s not to mention the shotgun, whose barrels looked like leaping snakes and hammers like wings. 

Mom was smirking as she looked down the sights of her shotgun. “I think that was a solid opening shot; have at it, kids.”

Katie-the-Angel-Witch

Hey, thank you so much for making it through all that, sorry for the chapter being shorter than usual, as I mentioned at the start winter is kicking my ass. I have to say though, I was excited to write Dr. Cloudton transforming just from her own sheer power, that lady doesn't have a Spark she's a Roaring Flame.

With all that said, if you like my writing and want to read more, including a bunch of exclusive one shots and spinoff story in the Deviled Egg setting, you can join my Patreon! For a dollar a month you get story chapters as I finish writing them, and for five you get access to the exclusive stuff. Or, if you're feeling really generous, for ten a month you can request a three page (size 12 questrial font) story from me once a month! Join now for all that! https://www.patreon.com/SynTheGuardian

And if you'd like to talk with me, there is the Polycore Petting Zoo discord, which I share with Taxouck https://discord.gg/VDVMVrc