\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
    November     ►
SMTWTFS
     
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/960447
Image Protector
by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#960447 added December 29, 2019 at 7:20pm
Restrictions: None
Even a Football Player Has Weak Spots
Previously: "The End of One RoadOpen in new Window.

"So who's our target for tonight?" Sydney asks.

You're driving home from school and squinting hard at the coagulated traffic on Borman Road—so many assholes trying to get home at the same time as you—so that you don't answer her right away.

Which is just as well, for it gives her a chance to drop a thought that startles you: "I mean," she says, "it's not like it has to be Blake that we do the thing to."

"What? Well, who else would we—?" you start to ask, then bite the question off to jerk the truck into an opening on your left.

"Sweetheart, maybe we could turn you into someone who wasn't a maniac driver?"

You grimace. "Sorry."

"What I meant was, we don't have to tackle Blake directly if we don't want to. I mean, if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. But maybe you could sort of sideswipe him? I'm talking about Blake, not the sedan on our right."

"Ha ha. But you mean, do the thing to one of his friends? Replace them and—"

"Right. Then they wouldn't be his friends anymore. Would they?"

The hair on the back of your neck prickles. "You mean, turn them against him?"

"Sure. Or, you know, even if you didn't 'turn them against him,' they still wouldn't be his friends anymore." She giggles. "Not really."

Yes, it's a nasty idea.

You like it.

* * * * *

The first thing is to take stock of your supplies, so you drive out to the elementary school. You've already got two masks and two memory strips made up, but your other supplies are too low to make any more. You suggest going to pick up some more, but Sydney answers with a wry smile: "The Brotherhood will provide."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she says, picking up one of the masks, "that we can get our first Brother to buy us what we need." She dimples at you.

"I guess we could do that." You pick up the other mask. "Are we going to make two Brothers?"

"We could do that too," she says. "Unless one of us is going to be the Brother." She holds up the mask in front of her face, then peers around it with a mischievous smile.

A grin pulls at your mouth. "Which one of us goes first?"

"Maybe we should figure out who it should be, first." She looks around. "Where's that mask we made of Blake?"

"Around someplace. Why?"

"Will, you didn't throw it away, did you?"

"No! I told you, it's around here some—" You peer around without immediate success. "Why?" You clamber over a conference table to get to some shelves where it might be.

"For clues about who to hit. Who would it really hurt Blake if we turned him into an enemy. A secret enemy."

You pause in mid-scramble. After today, you've got more enemies than Blake O'Brien to deal with.

You're still thinking about the complications that come with having David Kirkham and Caleb out for your heart's blood when you find Blake's mask. With it in hand, you heave yourself back over to Sydney. She lays her fingertips on its edge.

Your throat feels like it's closing up. "You know," you gurgle, "if I'm going to put this on, maybe you should go pick us up something to eat."

"Is Blake going to be hungry?"

"For you, he is." A prickling pang shoots through your cock as it extends.

"Mm. That could be fun."

"But I don't want ... him ... touching you." You swallow. "Even if it's really me."

"Oh, I see." She bites her lower lip, then goes up on tiptoes to kiss the side of your mouth. "It's sweet of you to think of me."

You close your eyes. You're not thinking of her. You're throbbing at her.

"I'll go get us an early supper. And I'll take my time getting back. But you know, Will, if I get back and you're still Blake and you can't control yourself, well ... It's not like I'd scream or anything."

You wait until she's gone before collapsing onto the conference table.

* * * * *

You've taken the precaution of removing your shoes and pants and shirt before putting Blake's mask on, so you're cold all over when you wake, and you shiver as you stumble onto your feet.

Your bony, boat-like feet with the toes that are almost as long as fingers—the big toe almost like a thumb. You make a face at it as you stumble into the back of the basement in search of the floor-length mirror that's been shoved up against a wall.

You know what you'll find in it, of course.

It's weird, you reflect as you shuffle through broken desks and dusty, tumbled-over bookshelves, trying not to stub your toes. It's been days since you were inside Blake's mask, but it feels now like you've never been out of it. His mind, his memories, this mental musk clings to you. Fuck, what am I still doing in this goddam basement? I'm gonna punch some dickface's heart out if I don't get out of here.

You find the mirror and lean against it as you study your borrowed face from under a lowered brow.

Dark hair cut in a bowl haircut. Coffee-colored eyes and a straight, narrow nose. A long jaw with dime-sized mole on the side. Not a bad-looking face, and it's a face that's had lots of girls smiling up into it. Your pale lips twist into a sardonic smile as you think of some of the girls that you've taken back at the Warehouse, pinning beneath your lean, bow-like torso as they've wrapped their thighs around your narrow hips.

Fuck. You're arousing yourself, and it isn't even your cock. You splay a hand over the reflected face and turn away.

How to hurt this guy?

His dad's gone—left to chase cocktail waitresses or some shit like that—so there's no angle there. His mom's a branch manager at a bank, drawing a decent salary. Blake stays on her good side so there's no drama to be exploited there. His sister—

His sister. Hmmm.

Kelly is a sophomore at Westside, a tomboy who fights with her big brother but clearly adores him, just as he adores her. She very short, even for her age, so she can't pursue her real love, which is basketball, so she exerts herself on the JV softball team at school. Isn't Sydney friends with girls on the varsity softball team? Could she get to Kelly through one of them? Slipping a duplicate in for Blake's sister would certainly hurt him. But she'd have to start acting out of character. What is her character? Is she popular? Blake doesn't like to think that she is. Blake doesn't like to think about his sister starting to party out at the Warehouse—

Your heart moves sideways in your chest: Blake's horrified reaction as well as your own excited one. Pair up Kelly with a guy who's really bad for her, really bad news. Start partying hard. Fight with her big brother, who's only looking out for her. Get her in trouble. Get her in real trouble.

You shiver hard.

Okay, that's one possibility. What about at school? Erik Carstairs, of the football team, is one of Blake's best friends. If Erik turned against him suddenly, that would really screw with his head. And there's no way Blake could touch Erik, particularly if Erik turned the other guys against him. Hell, if you were Erik Carstairs you could safely hassle anyone at school, except probably for Gordon and Steve. You could even—

You rub your eyes. You could take on Kirkham. You sure as hell could squash Caleb.

Yeah, Erik would be a three-ring-circus of trouble for the guys who are trying to make your life miserable.

Okay, are there any others like that? Guys who could make trouble for more people than just Blake?

A daisy chain of associations takes you from Erik (who deals weed to the football team) to Gary Chen (who deals weed at school generally), and who hangs around with Kirkham. Chen couldn't hurt Blake, but he could hurt Kirkham by turning on him, and he could definitely hurt Caleb. But you'd have to explain to Sydney that there's more than one guy you want to get back at—and why—before you could explain picking Chen.

* * * * *

"You can get back at whoever you want, Will," Sydney assures you later that evening. You were out of Blake's mask before she got back (with barbecue) and so far you've pitched her on the two most obvious choices: Carstairs and Chen. (Kelly you've held back as being maybe a little too perverse.) "We're going to have ten of these things," she continues as she scoops some coleslaw out of a Styrofoam cup, "so it's not like we only have to target one of the guys you're mad at.

"But," she adds after tearing off a piece of Texas toast, "I was kind of figuring we'd hit Blake where he's most sensitive."

His sister? you almost blurt out in shock.

"A girl," she explains. "Someone he has a crush on."

"He has a crush on you," you remind her.

"He must've had a crush on someone before I moved to town."

You snort.

Then you catch yourself. You've been out of the mask for twenty minutes, but the associations haven't fully faded. One face and form blazes out at you, with such ferocity that you know it must have imprinted itself on your soul while you were wearing Blake's mask.

Amanda Ferguson. One of Kelsey Blankenship's snobbiest, most frigid friends.

Blake has a raging hard-on for Amanda.

* To pick Kelly O'Brien as your vehicle of revenge: "The Nuclear OptionOpen in new Window.
* To pick Amanda Ferguson: "Bondage GirlOpen in new Window.

© Copyright 2019 Seuzz (UN: seuzz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Seuzz has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/960447