“What the fuck are you doing here?” Slagteri asked, his head poking out of his Beehive apartment door. Taruke stood in the hallway, muscular arms folded across his chest. Through the doorway, a faint, putrid odor wafted into the hall.

“I know that you and your superiors know exactly where every member of the anti-changeling movement is right now,” Taruke replied. “I came to you to ask for that information. I plan to take it upon myself to exterminate this threat once and for all.”

Slagteri snorted. “Yeah, about that, the bastards upstairs said just to watch and not do anything else. As much as I want to kill the little bitches myself, Skinner’s wrath is something I can do without.”

“Perhaps,” Taruke replied and then grinned smugly. “As head of the finance division, I have the authority to stage a ‘strategic removal of competitive entities.’ After all, if they are killing our workers, won’t we see a drop in hive income? Now, would you like a job as ‘Secretary of Investment Defense’?”

Slagteri blinked. A wicked grin grew on his face. “You sly bastard, you make a killer proud.” He gave Taruke a thumbs-up. “Still, whatever happened to your fucking ‘all powerful king’s word is law’ belief? It seems odd that a zealot like you’d go against his orders like that.”

“In the defense of the hive, sometimes subverting his majesty’s orders is for the best. If no other changelings die, I feel that our merciful king would forgive our transgressions,” the elder changeling replied.

“Well then, come on in, boss,” Slagteri said as he opened his door fully, revealing the pig-sty within. “Let’s get planning. Pardon the mess.” As Taruke walked in, he was assaulted by the putrid odor, which he could now identify as formaldehyde and excrement. The source of the smell was a human body, hidden just out of sight of the door. “Sorry, I just got so caught up in my reading that I had to try it out myself. Who knew that Princess Sun-Slut was such a good author?”

“Which book?” Taruke asked, surprised at Slagteri’s comment. He did not expect that Slagteri was the bookish type; it was such a clash with his personality.

“Oh, 65 Torture Techniques for the Novice Interrogator." Slagteri glanced over at the body. "I may have gone a bit far… nah.”

“I’m heading out, Dad,” Klika called out from the apartment entrance, her voice changing mid-sentence from changeling-double to deep man. I glanced back and saw that she had taken the form of a burly, tattooed, 6’6” man.

“Be careful. Call if you need anything; I’ll be there in a minute if you need me,” I said.

“I’ll be fine. Who would bother me looking like this?” She asked, gesturing to herself.

“How long are you going to be out?” I asked.

“Dunno, I’ll see. I just need some me time right now, ‘k? I was thinking of meeting some girls at the Beehive later, maybe get some drinks. You know… stuff.” Klika turned and headed out the door.

I called after her, “Have fun!”

“Oh, I will,” she muttered to herself when she was out of earshot.

There was a knock on Slagteri’s door. The two changelings within looked up from where they were seated. “Were you expecting company?” Taruke inquired.

“Fuck no. I have enough dealing with your shit,” he said as he stood. Slagteri reached the door and grasped the handle. With a twist he pulled it open. “I don’t need any more… Princess? The fuck are you doing here?”

At the word ‘princess,’ Taruke jumped out of his chair and knelt in front of the unexpected guest standing in the door. “Forgive this imbecile’s rude greeting,” he asked Klika. “Now, what may I do for you, your highness?”

“I know what you two are up to. Dad is not the only one who watches his subordinates and, unlike him, I have no issue with invading my subordinate’s heads,” Klika explained as she walked into the room.

“Forgive us, your highness, we did not mean to-” Before Taruke could finish his sentence, Klika interrupted.

“Oh, I’m not mad and you two are not in trouble. If anything, I came to tag along,”

“Didn’t see that coming,” Slagteri said, eyebrow raised in mild astonishment.

Taruke raised his head from the bow it had been in up until now. Looking Klika in the eye, he spoke, “Princess, I do not believe that it is wise for you to come with us.”

“Save it. I’m coming, even if I have to give a royal order to make you take me,” Klika firmly stated. “Don’t think, however, that I’m not going to pull my weight. Your two divisions are in my half of the hive, rather than Nick’s side. As such, I have a limited ability to shelter you from Dad’s attention. Don’t get me wrong, if we draw his full attention, there is nothing in the world that can keep him out of our heads; I can, however, keep you in the shadows, so to speak.”

“Lucky then that kingy respects our privacy, right?” Slagteri commented.

“Yes, it would take but a thought for our great king to become omniscient within the hive,” Taruke agreed.

“You talk funny, you know that, right?” Klika asked.

Taruke snorted with mirth. “You should ask your father about how he made me better than I was before. If my choice of words is a side-effect of his improvements, then I embrace it.”

“Hey there, Sal. Glad to be back at work?” I asked while gently caressing the velvety skin of her twin-pointed ears. Sally-Anne smiled and told me that yes, she was. She asked me to follow her back into the lab area so that she could show me something that they had been recreating for a time.

“Recreating? What is it?” I asked, intrigued by what she had to offer. Generally, everything that came out of her department brought benefits to the hive, such as Change.lng or the portable affinity tester. Spark, her second in command, told me earlier that they had successfully gotten a computer to direct a magical current without priming, such as with Change.lng’s Come-To-Life spell. It was now just a matter of developing the code to control the magic and imputing the spell formulas that we had collected.

But that did not sound like what she was referring to. “You’ll see,” she teased, then walked a smidge faster.

When we turned in the door, the nine changelings within stopped what they were doing and looked up. I just waived them on; the quickly resumed their work. “This is what I wanted to show you,” Sal said, grabbing a square of some strange black cloth from one of the work benches. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before; like a mirror, it reflected the room around it, but only about a quarter of the light, which gave it the dark appearance. Yet at the same time, it seemed to flow like a liquid more than cloth.

She handed it to me. The moment I took it, I noticed two things in quick succession; first, it was insanely heavy for such a small cloth, and second, it felt like skin – not as in ‘to the touch’, but rather, ‘I could sense the air touching the cloth as if it were part of my own body’. In surprise, I dropped the cloth; before it could hit the ground, however, Sally-Anne had scooped it up with her magic.

“What is that?” I asked. I had a sinking suspicion about its true nature, but I hoped-

“It’s shimmer fabric,” Sally-Anne admitted.

My eyes narrowed dangerously and my pupils constricted to slits. “The fabric Celestia created out of the chitin of murdered changelings? That shimmer fabric?”

Sally-Anne squeaked and shrank back. She gave a nervous chuckle when she backed into one of the workbenches. “Well, yes and no.”

“Explain.” It was not a request.

She squeaked again. Hastily she began, “It is shimmer fabric, but the chitin came from volunteers. We had the surgeons remove our arm chitin, which we re-grew afterwards. We used that to make a test batch.”

I sighed in relief. “So whose was this?” I gestured to the square that was still floating between the two of us. Spark spoke, voicing his claim on the sample. Turning back to Sal, I asked, “So does this live up to its description in the book? Is it really as strong as dragon-hide?”

“Well, we don’t have any dragon-hide to compare it to, but it’s at least as strong, if not stronger, than Kevlar by tensile strength,” she claimed. “A sample this thick – this one, in fact – can stop a .25 caliber bullet at point-blank range.”

“Bulletproof armor, that’s nice,” I commented. Reaching for the cloth, I plucked it out of the air. Once again, I felt the deceptively heavy fabric start to relay touch to my brain. “Why does it do that, the touch thing? I don’t remember reading about that in the text.”

Sal shrugged. “We think it has something to do with us being changelings. It’s much like how when we form clothing ourselves, we can still feel with it. Well, that’s the theory, anyway. Can I hold it for a moment? I want to show you something.”

I passed the cloth back to her. The moment Sal’s fingertips closed on the fabric, it stiffened and straightened out to the point that I swore she was holding a sheet of polished metal instead of fabric. It began to bend, stretch, and contort all on its own, seemingly without any command from it’s holder; her magic appeared inert as there was none of the distinctive glow around Sal’s hands. The cloth stiffened again and began to rapidly change colors and patterns, eventually settling on a pink plaid. A split-second later, it flopped down and returned to its original coloration.

I whistled – my double voice made it a chord rather than a single note – thoroughly impressed. “How did you do that?”

“You just allow your magic to spread into it – don’t force it – and command it like you would any other limb; the shimmer fabric won’t even drain your magic unless it has to protect you. It will even survive the transformation, being made of various metals and our chitin, and can adjust the size accordingly. Though, it will get uncomfortably hot for a time if you do so,” She explained. I was impressed to the point where I wanted a suit of this for myself; though, knowing the cost of the materials and methods needed to create this, I knew it would be rather unlikely that I would ever see shimmer fabric cloths anytime soon.

Yet, as if to prove me wrong, two changelings brought in a large box. Within lay a long sleeve shirt and a pair of pants, tailored to my size. All together, the two pieces weighed close to fifteen pounds. Though enamored with it, I had to ask how much it cost. I had a vague suspicion that if Taruke had been anything like Ginny, he would have punched the entirety of R&D when he saw the price tag.

“$1.2 million,” Sal replied as if it was nothing, “and that’s when you figure that we own the mines, the chitin was donated, and the doctors were paid with medical insurance money.”

I set the shirt down and looked at Sal. “It would have cost what otherwise?”

“Roughly $13 million.” I whistled in response to her answer. “Go on, it’s yours.”

“Wow, I have no idea what to say… how can I ever repay you? Wait…” I said, pausing for a moment to think. “I know just the thing, no, two things. You told me earlier that you wanted a team to go capture the Cloudsdale Archives on weather manipulation. If you can spare the people to form a retrieval team and Chrysalis can spare a guide, we can have them by tomorrow.”

Sally-Anne clapped her hands. “Oh, thank you!”

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. “And that other thing? I’ll have to see if I can convince her, but… well, I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

“OUT OF THE WAY, MOTHERFUCKERS! FASTER, FASTER! …I’m booorrred.”

Taruke rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m the one driving and he gets road rage, fantastic.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Princess, if nothing else, never look to that man as a role model.”

“Hey, fucktard, I’m not that bad, *Uurrp,*” Slagteri whined, punctuating it with a large belch.

“My point…” Taruke deadpanned. “At least I’m not a heroin addict like some people, James.”

A split second after the words left Taruke’s lips, he knew he had gone too far. Slagteri’s claws pierced the skin of Taruke’s current form, drawing blood and forcing his arm to revert to its true form. Taruke’s arm jerked, yanking the steering wheel and momentarily causing the car to swerve into oncoming traffic. Klika screamed, but a quick pull the other way had the car narrowly avoid a head-on collision.

“NEVER. SAY. THAT. NAME. AGAIN. Got it?” Slagteri’s eyes were focused solely on Taruke, as if their near death experience had not just occurred. Unlike his normal rage and aggression, which was underscored by good cheer, the emotion in Slagteri’s eyes was loathing in its purest form. “That was my old life. This is now. I don’t need to be reminded of what the king saved me from.”

And, like a light switch was flipped in his head, Slagteri was back to his personal normal: annoyed and psychotic.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever introduced you two to each other before. Sal, this is my daughter, Selene.” I gestured to the blue girl to my right.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Selene,” Sally-Anne declared.

“Selene, this is Sally-Anne.”

Selene pondered her for a moment. “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

“What, no!” we said in unison followed by a glance at each other.

I shook my head. “No, Sal just works for me by making cool things. She helped make my clothes. I pay her a lot of money ‘cause she’s so smart.”

“Oh…” A look of contemplation crossed her face. With her brow furrowed, she asked, “Wait, you can be paid money for being smart?”

That caused both Sal and I to chuckle; I found her laughter really cute. “That’s right, kiddo.”

Selene’s eyes went wide, as if she had just experienced some world-shattering revelation. Suddenly, she was off; her hoof-like feet clopped loudly on the tile floor as she ran. “Where are you going?” I called.

“To get my workbooks!” Selene replied from her room. “I want to be smarter than her, then you’ll have to pay me lots of money and I can buy all the candy and toys I want! Hahahaha!”

The two of us followed her into her room where she was busy pulling out every workbook her homeschooling tutors had given her. “Wait, wait, Selene, there will be plenty of time later for that. Right now, I have to ask you something important.” She looked up from her workbooks and I moved in closer. Leaning down, I whispered into her pony-like ears, “Selene, would you help me by…”

“Oh, that sounds like fun! Does that mean I get to stay up extra late tonight?”

“Sure.”

The changeling trio walked towards the cheap hotel, each supporting a backpack on their shoulders. The last golden rays of sunlight were fading behind them. Just as the first stars were appearing, they stepped inside. “Are you sure that this is the place?” Klika asked.

“Fuck, I told you already, yes, this is the place. Stalker’s been shadowing this guy for days now.” Slagteri smirked in amusement. Switching to the changeling language so as not to be overheard, he said, “The bastard really underestimated how easy it was for us to find him. You’d think that, for all the precautions they took before now, they’d know to avoid public places, especially after killing someone. Or that they would take some advice from the horror movies and not split up.”

“How did you end up finding him?” Klika pressed the elevator call button as she asked the Silencer of the group. She shifted the weight of the bag on her back.

He pressed the button for the sixth floor as he walked into the elevator. “Fuckin’ retina scanners in public. You know those street-level signs that change whenever you look at them? They have retina scanners so that the advertisers can custom fit their shit to you. The police can tap into those. If a known suspect walks a city street without sunglasses, the police will find them in hours. Our little web ghost got access and tracked him to here,” Slagteri declared proudly. “Stalker did the rest.”

“Fitting name, considering his chosen profession,” Taruke commented idly in English as the elevator slowly climbed.

“Really?” Klika sarcastically asked, switching back herself. She stepped out into the appropriate hallway. “We all name ourselves; Protector, Slaughterhouse, Daughter, Stalker – of course it’s fitting. Room?”

“6-34.” The Silencer answered. He turned left and quickly strode down the hallway. Slagteri stopped in front of the correct door. “Get Stalker out here.”

Klika nodded. <<Stalker, by order of Klika, Princess of the Hive, your previous mission is herby complete.>>

<<Princess? What are you doing here and why are you ending my mission? I’m not supposed to let him out of my sight for any reason.>>

Klika elaborated on her orders, <<Your new orders are to wait out in the parking lot until my business here is completed. Furthermore, you are not to report to your superiors until I dismiss you, understood?>>

<<Yes, princess…>> A second later, a little black beetle crawled out from under the door. It took off and flew around the corner where the Ice machine was located. One flash of green light later, a skinny, pale man walked out. He bowed towards Klika and then turned towards the elevator.

<<Don’t worry about your target. He won’t be a problem anymore when we’re through with him,>> Klika added, causing the retreating Stalker to pause mid-step. <<Oh, and Stalker, one more thing. What is the anti-magic artifact he’s wearing?>>

<<A ring on his right hand, Princess.>>

Klika nodded at him in thanks. She reached into her bag and pulled out a cloth and a vial of chloroform. As she poured a few drop on the cloth, careful to not breathe in the noxious fumes, Slagteri pulled out a knife from his bag while Taruke pulled out a stun-gun. The three nodded. With the green shimmer of a Notice-Me-Not and a burst of green flames surrounding the door frame, Taruke pushed his way through the locked door as if it was not even there.

The last golden rays of sunlight were fading behind us. Just as the first stars were appearing, we stepped outside. I wore the shimmer fabric clothing she had given me, styled up in the facsimile of a suit and tie. “I wanted to show you something special, as a way of saying thanks for the suit and, well, you know.” I blushed and sheepishly looked away from Sal. In reply, she leaned in closer. The warmth of her body felt good in the nippy February evening air. On one corner of the Beehive roof laid a set of blankets and two pillows.

“Is this a date?” She asked me upon seeing the setup.

Without looking back at her, I said, “Err, kinda? It can be, if you want. Or it could just be stargazing with a friend…”

She grabbed my chin and turned my head to look down at her. A blush to match my own adorned her face. “I’d like the date, please.”

She pulled my head down to her level for a kiss. Before I reached her, I stopped. “Let’s try to keep this tame. Selene’s just over there,” I pointed with my thumb to the where she stood in the opposite corner of the roof, “because she’s our entertainment tonight.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmmm Hmmm,” I agreed, “she is. Normally, she just waives her hand and *Whoosh,* moon, *Bam,* stars, and she’s done. This time, I asked her to put on a show and promised her that the longer and more spectacular she made it, the longer she could stay up tonight. We should ask her if she could do a comet.”

“Oh, that sounds fun. I wonder if she can do a supernova,” my date mused.

“Let’s ask.”

Dave awoke with a pulsating, searing headache and a body that ached all over. As his mind cleared, he attempted to take stock of his situation. Upon opening his eyes, his vision swam so much that he had to immediately reclose them. As he shifted his weight, he realized that his limbs were spread out and tied to something solid and there was something pressing against his hips. Oh, and, with the exception of the ring on his finger, he was completely naked.

He could hear murmuring voices, but nothing distinct enough to understand. On second thought, he could hear them just fine; instead, they were speaking gibberish. The weight on his hips shifted; had his head not been killing him, it would have been a pleasurable sensation.

He waited out the pain.

“Oh, before I forget, one last thing,” I said as we sat down on the blanket. The sky had darkened almost completely – just the slightest hint of purple remained – but neither the moon nor stars had appeared. I focused on a specific portion of the link so that Sal wouldn’t hear me. <<All Change.lng copies, are you in place?>>

I received about three dozen identical “affirmatives”. Smiling, I dramatically raised my hands by my head. <<Initiate procedure in five seconds.>>

“Let there be…” I clapped my hands at the exact moment all of the electricity in Atlanta and the surrounding suburbs failed. “…Darkness.”

He finally felt good enough to open his eyes. Though it was hard to focus, he could make out two figures standing over him and one smaller figure sitting on his waist. “Ugh, what the hell is going on?”

Suddenly, cold water was dumped on his face, snapping him fully awake but making his headache worse. He coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the invading fluid, while struggling against his bonds.

The figure sitting on his waist spoke English for the first time since he had awoken. The voice matched the body, that of a girl who looked six years old. Her dress, if you could call it that, looked like it would be more appropriate on a stripper, even if it was sized appropriately. Despite the cold water, despite the pain, despite the inappropriateness of the situation, despite his pleas to his body, the motions of the small child balancing on his nether regions managed to make him hard.

“There was a little girl who lost her parents once before. Now my sister almost lost her father again. So, Mr. Davie, why did you shoot my daddy?” the child asked.

“Oh, that is amazing,” Sal cheered. Selene blushed at the praise and continued directing the night sky; her arms moved like a conductor directing a symphony as she painted the sky with stars.

On the moon itself, we could see the silhouette of her body, wings outstretched. The shadow possessed glowing white eyes that seemed more focused on the stars in the sky than the puny world below.

Selene’s shadow spun its arms; from behind the moon itself, jets of stars erupted, precisely following her actions. The twinkling stars slowly spread across the night sky before pooling in their correct locations, a gorgeous sight to behold. And my daughter was only just getting started.

He wanted to scream, to curse, to anything, but restrained as he was, Dave could do nothing. His mouth was gagged with a blob of that wretched goo. He twisted and turned, ignoring the pain in favor of trying to break his bond. Yet it seemed futile. Anytime he got even the slightest hint of slack, one of his three tormenters would tighten it up and add another blob of goo to that limb. Worse, it contracted as it dried, meaning that his bonds were pulling him so tight that he was suspended inches above the floor.

His female torturer – Daughter, as she introduced herself – had aged herself up to about eighteen years and had developed very, very large breasts. Her form was a hybrid of changeling and human. With her clawed hand, she massaged his genitals; his stiff rod entered one of the disgusting, oozing holes.

Alone, that would not be so bad; however, it was her other, human hand that he feared. It was wielding a large knife and slowly carving into his skin. Though it was only shallow cuts – and therefore would not bleed much – it was still far more pain than he had ever experienced before.

The falling stars raced across the sky, delighting us with the spectacle. Selene’s shadow had taken to dancing on the moon with amateur level ballet. It was cute to watch Selene try so hard to impress us. And she was having so much fun, too.

Sal lay curled up next to me. She had forgone a pillow, substituting my arm instead. It was not like I minded. We had talked for a time, but had gone to quiet snuggling in the last few minutes. I pulled the blanket tighter.

Drinking, partying, making out, and having sex with random men and woman was both fun and tasty, but nothing beat spending time with someone for which you had actual feelings.

The second one to have a crack at him was Protector. While Daughter had caused both pain and pleasure, Protector brought blissful nothing. One hand glowing with sickly green light, the middle aged man with feathered wings reached out with his unlit hand and slipped Dave’s anti-magic ring off. He then pressed the lit fingers against the prisoner’s torso; from that spot, total numbness radiated outwards until Dave’s body was completely clear of pain.

“Is that better?” Protector asked. Dave gave no visible response. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, ok? I just want you to listen to what I have to say. You listened to the wrong person. Whatever Catherine may have told you are lies. My glorious king is a good person; he is a very forgiving soul. In his heart, there is more than enough love for us all.

“But this? Shooting innocents? That is not how you win his love.” The man caressed Dave’s cheek. “Our King is much like a god; mighty in power is he. And I, I am his angel, naught but a humble servant. That said, I am no messenger, nor do I bring miracles. I am his angel of vengeance.”

The green glow of Protector’s hand intensified. Green flames spread from his hand, painlessly enveloping Dave’s bound form. One last time, Protector spoke. “Sinner, repent.”

In that moment, Dave knew true agony.

Love. As the comet passes overhead, I contemplate the word in all its meaning. Eventually, I discovered something, something I had only suspected before.

I think I might love her. It only takes a half-formed thought to see that she loves me, budding as that love may be. Deep within myself, I feel the same emotion stirring, growing. Ode to the joys of being a changeling, for we are naturally wise in the ways of the heart.

As I leaned in closer to the woman next to me, as my lips brushed against hers, Selene’s magic gripped one of the larger stars in her sky. And, in my moment of passion, the Earth laid witness to the brightest and most visible supernovae in all of recorded history.

Slaughterhouse lived up to his name.

Squelch goes the knife, cutting through Dave.

Off comes the flesh, to be stacked in a pile.

Zap goes the lightning, cauterizing the wound.

Chomp snaps the jaw, devouring the meat.

Shush goes the magic, keeping him awake.

“Again,” says the monster, bringing the knife to skin.

‘No more,’ begs the heart, only to beat nevermore.

“Hey asshole, I wanted to play with you some more! Why did you have to go and die on me?” Slagteri eyed the corpse, mentally dividing up the remains. After a second, he bent down and removed the arms and legs from the body. “Meh, eat up, you two.”

“Oh, save some for Stalker. I don’t think he’s had dinner yet,” Klika commented. She reached down, picked up a leg, and crunched through the bone.

“That was a great night,” I said as I tucked my exhausted daughter into bed. “Thanks for the show.”

“I hope we can do that again some time,” Sal said. She squeezed my hand gently.

Selene yawned. “Does that mean you two are dating now?”

Sal looked into my eyes, and I into hers. Together, we said, “Yeah, it does.”

Author's Notes:

*Ding* Have two different chapters interlaced with each other. One is a cheesy romance/slice-of-life, the other is a grimdark horror/adventure. Quite the juxtaposition there, if I do say so myself.

Not much else to add on this chapter, so I'll just be off...

WAIT! HAHAHA! I broke 100k words! now if I can just get 20k more by April, I will be a happy man!

---

Thank you, my editor. (*Pssst* His name is Alternate Madness. Don't tell anyone!)