Tracy took over an hour to do what should’ve taken a few minutes. But while he still had all his soap and stuff, what he didn’t know was how to do anything without hands. He might’ve been completely lost, if his roommate hadn’t left her own stuff hanging in the shower for him to study.

Apparently little horses put things on sticks a lot, using their mouths to manipulate them. Even knowing that, Tracy resolved to use the showers at work as much as possible from now on. Having fur did not make this process easier. I’ll remember on Monday.

Everything was more complicated. He couldn’t just grab a towel, because he couldn’t really grab anything. After standing in the shower long enough that he’d started to dry on his own, he realized the purpose of the strange metal clips on the wall—he could secure his towel inside, then rub against it.

Why did these stupid things evolve? How can a civilization get smart without hands? It was an evolutionary mystery, one he lacked the expertise to solve.

And in special recognition of just how uncomfortable things were already, there was a window at head level that he had to face every minute, or else his simple act of sanitation would turn into a public display.

For a town where everyone was already naked.

Eventually he finished, emerging from the bathroom with dirty clothes clutched in his mouth. Here at least, being naked actually made sense. Though for him it was more not understanding any of his clothes and less not wanting to wear them.

He crossed the hall without more embarrassment, and soon he was back in his little bastion of sanity, surrounded by his old boxes with a window that correctly transitioned from day to night.

He tossed his laundry aside, then flopped into the bed. He closed his eyes and opened them again, as though the ritual could somehow restore reality to order and give him back his hands. But repeating it a few times all brought the same result: he really wasn’t human here, and doubting would not put things right.

I should probably try to get something done. In all the time since he’d embarked on this nightmare, he hadn’t even tried to get in touch with his friends back home. He should at least make sure they knew he was alright. There was even an Ethernet jack beside the desk. Maybe I should take up streaming in my spare time. Everyone would either think I’m an incredibly advanced animation, or the herald of the apocalypse.

Considering his deal with the Devil, he couldn’t be sure the latter wasn’t the case.

Setting up the laptop wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined. It was quite a bit larger, which he guessed might be related to the way his clothes changed when he came inside. Or maybe it was just the size of these new bodies compared to the way he should’ve been.

But how can it tell the difference between a shirt and a computer? What are the rules to this thing, anyway? He knew one outfit would change reliably into a polo shirt and slacks, so he could probably make that same assumption safely about similar items of clothing.

He spent the extra few minutes fishing around for the rest of his gaming setup—really just a keyboard and mouse. To his surprise, they weren’t just larger, but completely changed. They reminded him a little of devices that might be made for the physically disabled. The keyboard was an opening for each hoof, with buttons activated by pushing the hoof in any of several directions.

The mouse was something similar, securing around his right hoof so that he could push it around with precision. The plastic was still the same, the brands were the same. I don’t understand what gets changed and what doesn’t. He could probably ask the landlord about it—but did he really want to invite that kind of contact? That creature was still threatening to condemn his soul to endless horse-based torment if he didn’t pay rent.

Maybe this place is trying to keep me here. Change my stuff so it’s usable, tempt me not to run away. Maybe this was Hell already, trying to lure him to complacency. All he had to do was give up and accept the world he was given.

He still logged into Discord and checked in with his old friends, even if he got some mocking messages about how slow his responses were.

“Yeah, I found a place,” he typed. “And there’s no fucking way you’ll believe anything about it. If you ever make a trip over here, I’ll show you.”

He got some guesses from Shane, about the awful quality of roommates or maybe something special the place provided, like a spa in the bathroom. He laughed off those answers, and refused to confirm.

You’re going to think I’ve lost my mind if I really tell you. And maybe I have.

He didn’t quite feel like gaming, even if it was the weekend. Getting ready for his plan of avoiding this place as much as possible felt exhausting in itself after a week of work. How much could he screw things up by taking a peek at his surroundings?

It’s not like I’m committing to actually stay here. It’s stupid not to know what’s on both sides. For all he knew, the natives of this place might be able to help him out of his predicament. Maybe he could ask Rose about it. Clearly she wasn’t another lost soul, or else she’d probably at least try to wear something.

He dug through a few boxes, searching for something less revealing to wear. Maybe some of his clothes had been spared whatever process changed the others. But after upending a few boxes, he’d succeeded only at making a mess. There were plenty of clothes here, and all of them looked like they fit.

But none of it would make him feel any less completely naked.

Tracy chose a vest at random, not even bothering with the socks. Every horse he’d seen so far was completely naked anyway, so there was no sense trying to imitate clothes he’d wear on the other side. So long as he didn’t return to his world without getting dressed properly, there shouldn’t be any issue.

He emerged into the living room, ears alert and wings slightly spread. They weren’t exactly responsive to his commands, but at least they didn’t open all the way and make it impossible to walk anywhere.

The house was empty this time. The kitchen smelled like breakfast again, but the horse who’d cooked it was nowhere to be found. Because she’s probably at work. The day just ended for me, but it’s beginning for her.

It should’ve been a relief, but he couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. At least the one living with him would’ve been able to answer a few questions. If he wanted to go over to that side and investigate now, he’d be on his own.

Tracy approached the front door, slowing as he neared the window. He’d passed it several times now, but never really got a good look. Now he did, staring out at the world beyond and trying to make sense of what he saw.

It seemed like he was near the center of a small town, a town of truly ancient construction techniques. Of wood and thatch. The streets were cobblestone or dirt, and there was no sign of anything beyond basic infrastructure. A few poles he guessed were gas lamps, but that was all.

There were no cars in the streets, only more horses. Some of them were hitched to carts, but without anyone to drive them. Probably it was their stuff they were pulling.

There were dozens of them, male and female in colors he’d never imagined fur could grow. His search for any that might’ve been more civilized was in vain—he saw a few hats, bows, and little accessories, but nothing like clothes.

They did have symbols, though. He’d thought those were tattoos at first, until he’d noticed the one on his own body in the shower.

He turned to one side, so he could see it reflected faintly back to him in the window. A pair of electrodes, with energy arcing between them. It seemed to grow right from his fur, without any disturbance to the flesh below. They must be natural. But what do they mean?

There was as little pattern to them as the explosion of colors and species these horses belonged to. There were at least four different types, possibly more he hadn’t encountered yet. But there didn’t seem to be any kind of caste system or other status divisions, at least not from what he could see through the window.

I could go talk to a few of them, see what’s going on. Maybe they’d know who Discord is, how I can get out of this deal.

It was probably a good idea, but going out into another world all on his own—Tracy was many things, but not much of an explorer. He didn’t need to see strange new worlds when he could watch Star Trek anytime he wanted on Netflix.

One hoof caught the door for a second, before he turned away. The mysteries beyond that door could wait a little longer—at least until he had a chance to talk to his roommate and figure out if it was safe. After that… he still might never go out there.

But it wasn’t like he wanted to completely burn the Friday night. He could go out into his city and do something, but you typically needed money to have any fun, and that was something he didn’t have yet. He’d burned so much just getting here that he didn’t have any left to go out to a bar and try to work out his boredom a little more productively.

And do what, bring a girl back here? Dammit, I didn’t even think of that.

Whatever, there were plenty of other productive things he could get done. Like… setting up the television? Even if he wasn’t going to be here very often, it would probably be nice to have it ready when he needed it.

He unwrapped the old blankets and straps with care, though getting the TV itself onto the empty table waiting for it in front of the couch was a little harder. In the end he had to use his back, wedging it carefully then standing to lift it. It would hardly be the greatest tragedy if it broke—it was just Walmart’s latest 42”, but he still wouldn’t be able to replace it for months. So there was plenty of reason to be careful.

But once he plugged it in, that perpetuated another series of issues. More strangely redesigned controllers, though at least that meant he’d be able to use the dumb thing. There was no cable, and he couldn’t stream without plugging in the Xbox. Which meant getting the router out of his crap and plugging that in, which meant making more of a mess in his room.

By the time he was finally done, he was beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion, and his tablet-sized phone he couldn’t easily use read midnight. But it felt like a terrible shame not to at least try to watch something.

He flipped through the dwindling catalog of Marvel films and picked one still available on Netflix, then struggled to get comfortable while the movie began. As usual, his body didn’t want to cooperate, and there weren’t even any models to copy. How had those others done it?

The door clicked, then swung open. Tracy looked up, blushing instinctively as the pressure of nudity returned—but sitting with his legs in front felt like he was trying not to look like a deviant.

Rose shut the door behind her, carrying a paper bag in her mouth. She went straight for the kitchen table, settling it down there before finally noticing him. Or noticing a giant purple man killing some dirty people in a spaceship, anyway. Then she screamed.