“I barely even know what a kinkind is!” Jackie blurted out, shaking her head.

Sumire Shakespeare, the witch who had spirited her away to this unknown world now expected Jackie to summon a kinkind! …Whatever that meant.

“You didn’t read my book?” Sumire asked with an offended tone, as if she genuinely expected anyone to be able to read such a long book from cover to cover in such little time.

“Your book? You nicked it off me, remember?!” Jackie yelled. Who did Sumire think she was, stealing her book and claiming it as her own? “And it’s only been five minutes! How was I supposed to have read it in five minutes?!” the Englishwoman pointed-out.

Vladimir rolled his eyes, before offering a hand out to Jackie.

“Name’s Chekhov,” he introduced himself, “pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jackie shook his hand.

Jackie looked over at Sumire, “Katherine told me the gist of things,” she explained, “I’m gonna help you. Even though I don’t want to, I can’t let this Kuro person keep terrorizing innocent lives!”

Jackie had always had a strong sense of justice, and would do whatever she could to help those in need, so long as it was within her power. She’d summoned many demons when she played RPGs before, so she hoped that this wouldn’t be any different.

“Good,” Vladimir sighed, “we need extra hands these da-”

“I’m glad you think so, Vlad,” Sumire interrupted, “because I only have three futons, so Jackie is your problem for tonight!”

Vladimir’s jaw dropped, “Excuse me?!”

“You’re excused,” Sumire smiled, opening a portal and hopping in. “Arrivederci!”

Vladimir frowned. He let go of Jackie’s hand before raising his own hand to his face and pinching his furrowed brow in annoyance.

“Sorry about her,” Jackie apologized.

“Don’t be,” Vladimir sighed, “she pulls this kind of crap all the time,” he reassured her. He pointed at the borderline. “Miss Jackie,” he said, “I don’t think this is a good idea, Miss Shakespeare’s out of her mind.”

“You want me to return to the human realm?” Jackie asked.

“If you have any loved ones or simply value your life in general, it’s for the best.”

“I’m not going to let some evil witch get away with harming people!” Jackie protested.

“Are you really up for being a kinkind summoner?” Vladimir asked. “Do you even know how to summon your kinkind?”

Jackie paused. Katherine hadn’t told her that much.

“I assume it’s through some sort of incantation or spell, right?” she asked Vladimir.

Vladimir gave Jackie a disappointed look. His expression was noticeably grim.

“When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me,” the policeman stated, shaking his head. “…I don’t have anywhere for you to stay,” he said, after some time pacing around.

“I’ll sleep on your floor,” Jackie offered, not wanting to further inconvenience the man.

“Nonsense,” Vladimir responded, “that’s no way to treat a guest! Especially one who’s risking her life to save us all!”

Jackie’s face sank.

“Risking my life?” she asked, “but won’t my kinkind do all the fighting for me?”

Vladimir placed a hand on Jackie’s shoulder, “That’s for Miss Shakespeare to worry about,” he said. “Right now all you need to concern yourself with is finding a place to stay.” Suddenly Vladimir’s face lit up. “I’ve got it,” he said, “I know where you can stay!”

 

Old King Hamlet, a gathering spot for Phantasia’s small human population. It was a safe haven before the arrival of Lady Kuro and her kinkind familiars. It was nighttime, so the streets were all but deserted. Vladimir led Jackie through the streets by hand, stopping along the way to pick up a donut from his favorite coffee shop. The pair eventually arrived outside a block of Japanese-style flats. Vladimir furiously knocked on the door of one such flat.

“Open up, Kabuki,” he demanded, “I don’t have all night!”

“Quit being so loud,” a deep voice called back, “you’ll wake the neighbors!”

The owner of the voice angrily opened the door. Kabuki Mishima, Vladimir’s familiar. An annoyed, blue-haired man wearing a yukata. True to his name, he was also wearing a kabuki mask.

“Milord Vladimir,” he scoffed, “I might have known.”

“Hey, Kabuki,” Vladimir slyly smiled, “this is Jackie.” He gestured towards the girl. “She’s gonna be staying with you for a while.”

“What for?” the masked man asked.

“Important witch business,” his master responded, “none of your concern.”

“Well then, find an ‘important witch’ to look after her, because frankly, Milord, I don’t give a damn!”

Kabuki had begrudgingly carried-out many orders from Vladimir in the past. If Vladimir had an exceedingly difficult or boring task that needed doing, Kabuki was likely the one who would end up doing most, if not “all of” the work.

Vladimir waggled his index finger. “Tut tut tut, Kabuki,” he smiled, “would you prefer I told everyone in Old King Hamlet that there was a demon living amongst them?”

Vladimir grabbed his familiar’s mask, pulling it off Kabuki’s head and revealing the demon’s face, with one giant eye in the middle of his head.

Kabuki crossed his single eye angrily and folded his arms.

“You win,” he sighed, fully sliding his front door open and motioning for Jackie to step inside.

Vladimir Chekhov reached into the holster on his belt, drawing his handgun and pointing it towards Jackie, who instinctively put her hands up.

“Put your hands down,” the cop sighed, “I’m not gonna shoot you.”

Jackie let out a sigh of relief.

“I want you to have this,” he said, “just in case.”

Jackie nervously took the pistol from Vladimir, fumbling around trying to figure out where to put it. She knew that cops back home wouldn’t just give their guns to unlicensed civilians, and part of her wondered if it was the same in Phantasia. Jackie felt as if she may as well have been holding a live grenade in that moment, as she failed to decide where best to put the firearm.

“Your pocket,” Vladimir sighed, “it’s not just going to go off and shoot your thigh or anything.”

“O-Of-course,” Jackie nervously laughed, putting the gun in her pocket. “Thank you, Mister Chekhov.”

“You have a nice night, now.” The cop smiled, putting his hands in his pockets and walking off whistling.

Kabuki led Jackie into his sitting room, where she placed her glasses on his kotatsu, before following him to his bedroom door. Kabuki held his arm out in the direction of his futon.

“I only have one futon, so we’re going to have to share,” he sighed, “don’t try anything funny.”

“I can sleep under your kotatsu if you’d prefer?” Jackie offered. “I’ve always wanted to try one of those!”

Kabuki raised his single eyebrow in surprise. “They don’t have kotatsu where you’re from?” he asked.

“Nope,” Jackie responded, “I’ve always wanted one, though! I’ve heard they’re really comfortable!”

“Whatever,” Kabuki rolled his eye, “knock yourself out,” he said, closing his bedroom door behind him.

Jackie looked over at the kotatsu and smiled.

“Man, Sarah’s gonna be so jealous when I tell her I slept under a kotatsu!” Jackie rubbed her hands with glee. “I’ll send her a text,” Jackie said, “now where’d I put my mobile phone?”

She reached into her shorts and pulled out Vladimir’s gun.

“Oh, that’s right,” she sighed, “I left it on the coffee table back home.”

She placed the pistol on top of the kotatsu and crawled under the blanket, feeling around the underside of the table.

“How do I turn on the heating…” Jackie mumbled, smacking the kotatsu randomly until the heating system turned on. “Oh. Oh, yeah! Things are heating up now!” she snickered.

 

Within minutes Jackie had fallen asleep under the kotatsu’s warmth and found herself in another white void just like the night before. “Another nightmare,” she thought. Suddenly a familiar figure appeared from the ether. Jackie would recognize that girl anywhere. “This isn’t a nightmare after all,” she thought.

“Sarah!” she called out to her twin.

“Why,” Sarah muttered, turning around to face her sister, her head devoid of all facial features, “Why did you leave me?”

Jackie reached out to comfort her sibling.

“I didn’t,” she pleaded, “Sumire’s just borrowing me!"

Jackie placed her hand on her twin’s shoulder, before Sarah slapped her away.

“You’re not Jackie anymore, are you?” Sarah asked.

Jackie stared down at her outstretched arm. Her fingernails had been replaced with sharp claws. As she stared down at her hand she noticed something peeking out from the bottom of her field of vision. Breasts. Her breasts. Her black t-shirt had been replaced by an off-shoulder strapless dress and her bosom appeared to have grown noticeably larger. Sarah pulled a pocket mirror out of thin air and held it before Jackie. Jackie stared into it with a look of terror. Staring back at her was an attractive woman with wolf ears and long rosy brown hair.

“T-That’s not me!” Jackie cried, grabbing her enlarged tresses and examining them with shock. They were a far cry from her usual short, dark brown hair.

“Goodbye... Wolfe,” Sarah said before disappearing into nothingness.

“Sarah!” Jackie called out to her sister.

No response. Sarah was gone, her presence replaced by maddening silence. Jackie looked down at her clawed hands. Or maybe they weren’t her hands? They were different right down to the fingerprints! They appeared to be daintier, undisturbed by the intense bouts of button-mashing that had gradually taken their toll on Jackie’s hands. No matter how she looked at it, she was now the same woman that she saw in the pocket mirror moments earlier.

Jackie struggled to open her mouth, with its newly grown fangs, as she attempted to scream. But, as with many nightmares, no sound escaped her mouth. Instead, she was left alone with just her thoughts.

 

“…Who am I?”