//------------------------------// // Things Getting Stranger // Story: The Tunes Are A-Changin' // by ShadeJak //------------------------------// To say I expected our evening out to go a lot better then it had is a right understatement if I may say so. Between breakfast in bed, Avengers 3 at the cinema, the walk through the park, and of course the exquisite dinner, Vic had clearly been preparing me for something and once I’d begun to suspect what I’d been hoping he’d do for a while now I could barely contain my excitement; and then, right when it seemed like it was about to happen, everything spiraled down the loo at a rather rapid pacing. It had started when everything grew hazy, then I felt faint… and then came that awful dream… A strange flash, and a white horse with a blue tail and mane was in front of me. I must have been on the floor or something since she was higher up then I was. “—Gotta get through me if you wanna go near her, Discord!” the horse I assume shouted. “Vinyl, what are you doing?!” another voice, it sounded like it was very close to where I was, shouted. Another flash, like some broken film skipping around. A horrid, monster that looked like someone just amputated parts of different animals and glued them together onto a serpentine body laughed. “How sweet, the classic case of opposites attracting, together to the end!” It sang, before giving a sideways retching gesture. Another flash, he was waving his left hand which looked like a bird claw, blocking some kind of energy blast. Another flash, and he now hovered over me and the horse, sneering down at us. “Fun’s over! Time to join the others!” the creature gloated, the talking white mare stepping backward towards me but never taking her eyes off of the chimera-like entity, is if she were trying to protect me. Five Score Divided by Four… I had no idea what it had meant, or why in the world I’d ever dream such a thing. Regardless, the night had been ruined as well as whatever plans Vic had that night apparently, and after a silent, awkward trip home a terrible itch had started on my sides. I’d done everything I could to keep my dignity and ignore it until we reached the door and made my way to the nearest bathroom while Vic had apparently gotten the same idea and rushed upstairs. After several moments of scratching and cursing myself for stooping to such degrading behavior, I’d hiked up my dress to see what in the world had caused so much discomfort and hoping I hadn’t lost any skin in the process. Expecting a rash, or perhaps some sign of some sort of allergic reaction, I was, needless to say, surprised at what I found. A purple treble clef. Stamped right on my hip like some kind of cheap tattoo you’d find on a typical street harlot. Pulling my dress up all the way, I found that it had appeared on both hips, which was about all I could take and it prompted me to react in rather uncivil, but no doubt justified, hysterics. And once Vic had come downstairs, I soon discovered that I was hardly alone in my situation. Vic also had a pair of quaver tattoos on his hips and neither of us had any recollection as to how they could have possibly gotten there. “Livvy, there’s gotta be some kinda explanation for this, right?” Vic asked me, and fancy that; it did nothing to calm my nerves. “For what, a synchronized blackout, weird dreams, a sodding tattoo just suddenly appearing on our hips?” I demanded. “Weird dreams?” Vic asked. “Shoulda seen mine. There was this freaky-looking… I dunno what but I swear it’s got more mixed up animal parts then Australian wildlife…” “What?!” I shouted, louder then I’d meant to. “Goat’s face, feathered snakelike body, random animal limbs, two different wings?” I asked, fearing he’d agree. The surprised nod Vic gave only worsened my concern over what had just happened. “Except mine also had a talking white horse in it. It was like she was trying to… protect me… or something standing close to me. I couldn’t make sense of it, it all happened so fast.” Vic rubbed his chin. “I didn’t see any horses in mine. Just the monster you mentioned,” he replied. “This really is weird, how can we both dream about the same thing?” “Do I look like a psychologist, Vic?” I asked sarcastically. Sighing, I ran my hands through my hair. “I’m sorry… it’s just… none of this makes sense…” I looked up sadly at my boyfriend. “And… well, I imagine we were both hoping for a much better night then we’d gotten.” I explained, trying to calm down. It wasn’t fair at all to take this out on him. “I… I’m sure there’s got to be some kind of logical explanation for this.” “Let me get online, I’m sure I’ll find something!” Vic replied. “Well… maybe they’ll come off if we try real hard washing them? I think I have some acetone under the sink.” I suppose it was worth a shot. That stuff got off a lot of things. Heading into the kitchen, Vic opened the cabinet beneath the sink and took out the small metal container, unscrewing it and pouring some on a wad of paper towel. I hiked my dress up again, sighing at the wolf-whistle he did in a no doubt valiant effort to lighten the mood and he began wiping the dampened paper towel where the strange marking had appeared. Moments later my skin began to turn red from irritation but the marking remained right where it was; not the slightest hint of fading. Shaking his head, Vic got a wet paper towel and wiped off the acetone that was left there. “No good. I suppose we will have to resort to looking online.” I said dejectedly, heading back into the living room and switching on the desktop. Vic sat down in the chair once everything came on and ran searches while I stood behind him, leaning onto his shoulder. A half hour of searching had given us no results as we sought out diseases with weird bruises appearing on one’s sides. I had the strangest feeling the answer was right under our noses the entire time as we shut down the computer, but with neither of us knowing where to look it was a lost cause at the moment. Right now, I felt like a mess, and some way to get my mind off it until we could make another attempt tomorrow when I got home from orchestra practice was an order before an early bedtime. “Vic, how does a shower and bed early sound?” I asked. Normally Vic was a night owl when he was busy with his work, but as he’d taken the day off and had gotten up far earlier then what was usual for him, I’d hoped he’d take my offer. Vic managed a smile. “For once, that sounds good to me,” he said, though his calm agreement and lack of his normally upbeat, eccentric demeanor told me all I needed that what had happened to us was worrying him deeply. ~ The rest of the night had gone without incident. We’d shared a shower(which regrettably did nothing to remove the strange markings we’d acquired), and turned in soon after, sleep having overcome us far easier then I’d expected it too with all the worry and stress, enough to make me wonder if what had happened had contributed somehow. My sleep, however, was another story. The performance I had rehearsed for had finally come about; and we had done most spectacular the entire time, as I had imagined we would. Then, my moment came, accompanying the piano for a rendition of Moonlight Sonata. I had my eyes closed as I lay the bow across the strings of my cello, and played. The music flowed out as my natural talent for it and years of practice had insured it would, but it was even more beautiful then I’d imagined. The world around me seemed to fade, only myself and the music I played were there. I imagined the serene, cloudless midnight sky illuminated by a beautiful full moon surrounded by countless stars that Beethovan’s masterpiece told me of, my body adrift as I continued to play… As it came to a close, I opened my eyes, and saw the theater was different, now… I could not make out the audience. In fact, the theater appeared empty despite the applause I heard in the dark. As I looked around me, I realized I was alone, my orchestra gone as well. The applause died down till I heard only a single clapper who continued their apparent appreciation for me. “Bravah, bravah, my dear…” the clapper’s voice said as he rose, it sounded familiar, somehow, but I couldn’t place it. As he stood I noticed he was tall and unusually thin as he began to approach the otherwise empty stage. I didn’t know why but I felt a growing discomfort as he passed each row and drew closer and closer to me, and as I was able to make him out more, I realized that whatever he was, he was not human at all. Before he could step into the light, however, he just… vanished. Looking around, panic slowly building in me, the wall before me suddenly becoming a cinema screen and an old film of myself and Vic played on it, of our first date. On closer inspection, I realized something wrong in it… Our eyes… why were they that color? Before I could ponder this any further, I was suddenly grabbed on the shoulder. Turning, I found no one there; only a low, sinister laughter that seemed to echo all around as the film playing on the screen suddenly burned and melted apart, and in fine black print, a message appeared on the screen. Five Score, Divided by Four. “It won’t be much longer!” the voice from before taunted beside me, causing me to instinctively turn and there was the distorted monster from my earlier dream, sneering at me. ~ My eyes snapped open as I jerked straight up from my bed with a loud shudder; Vic stirring seconds later. “Livvy?” he asked, turning on the light. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Managing to stop hyperventilating, I ran my hand through my hair and looked over at him. “Sorry… just… awful dream.” I said. “Need to talk about it?” he asked. “N-no… it was just a dream, probably still a little shook up from earlier. Besides, I have somewhere to be tomorrow.” I replied. “Let’s just get back to sleep, alright?” The kiss I gave him seemed to satisfy, and he laid back down, and I did the same shortly after. Whatever was going on, I really hoped to find answers, or that it’d go away soon. Preferably the latter. It was odd, but this seemed… familiar, somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it but the monster in the dream seemed as though I’d seen him somewhere before. How silly of me; believing in biological mishmash monsters and talking horses, it’s enough to make a girl look nothing short of utterly mad, and that was the last thing I needed anyone thinking of me. ~ “I cannot believe I’d have to be seen in such a place, Vic,” I said that following morning, facepalming. The musical tattoos were still there, and Vic had come up with a solution he had hoped would rid us of them. “Come on, Livvy!” Vic protested. “Jake’s the one guy I know who’ll get these freaky tattoos off for half what you’d have to get anywhere else. Plus, he’s my pal; I’ve known him since college. Would your rather try and buy some sulfuric acid from the hardware store and try and get it off, yourself? No offense but I don’t see that ending well.” He had a point. With my luck I’d probably end up destroying my hips just trying, which would lead to a hospital visit, which would lead to even more embarrassment explaining what had happened. “Fine, provided we both go.” I replied, finishing up my orange juice. “That’s the spirit! I’ll make a call this afternoon I’m sure for me he’ll squeeze an appointment in.” Vic said, prompting a groan from me. “Well, it’s certainly a relief we can get these things removed, but it doesn’t explain how they got there to begin with!” I said. “Hey, we get rid of them, what’s it gonna matter? Maybe when they’re gone we can put it past us like a bad memory.” He replied. “I can only hope so.” I said, picking up my dishes and putting them into the dishwasher after a quick rinse. Returning to the table, I picked up my purse and cello case and gave my boyfriend a kiss. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Try not to blow up the apartment with your mixing.” “Aw, come on, Livvy! I only got us complained about that one time!” Vic protested. “And if I didn’t love you so much, you’d have been one less girlfriend after that incident.” I teased as I walked out, closing the door behind me. ~ As I pulled into the parking lot, I took a quick moment to make sure I looked presentable. Even if it was just practice, I had a standard to always achieve, after all. Giving my rear-view mirror a grin I made sure nothing was in my teeth, and turned my head left, then right. Finally, I ran my fingers through my hair, making sure nothing was out of place. I paused when I noticed something odd, however. Looking closely, my roots appeared… darker? That couldn’t be right, it had to be the lighting? I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning in more and I swear some of my hair at the roots looked a great deal darker then my normal color. Did it have anything to do with… no, that’s just silly. It was hardly a big deal, anyway, I could tend to that after practice, anyway. Getting out of the car and heading inside, I greeted the instructor and found my seat. “Olivia! It’s so great that you made it!” a guy named Tim said, prompting me to roll my eyes. This kid was four years younger then me and a complete git who didn’t grasp the fact I had a boyfriend of several years that despite our contrasting behaviors we were quite solid. “Yes, I’ll have you know Vic and I celebrated our anniversary and our birthday yesterday. It went… quite lovely. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.” I said, feigning a level of satisfaction despite that the night had been anything but that, but whatever further dissuaded this boy’s unsettling crush on me without making a fool of myself was not going to be passed up. I could only hope the instructor would be so good as to move us around at some point so that I may sit as far away from this nuisance as I could. The next hour went without incident, but as we got through to the end of one of the songs and prepared for our break, the insufferable boy felt the need to speak to me once again despite my earlier attempts to drive him off. “Hey, did you do something with your hair?” He suddenly asked, getting another eyeroll out of me. “Yes, I thought I’d try layering, add a darker shade underneath.” I replied. “Uh, no offense and don’t take this the wrong way but I think you went seriously overboard choosing black.” He said. “I don’t think that’s for you to—” I froze. Black? Did he say BLACK? When I looked earlier the darker part clearly looked to be a shade of brown. How could it look black in a more well-lit place? “Miss Ravensdale? Are you alright?” The instructor asked. “Um… no, could you… excuse me, a moment?” I asked, getting up. “I need to visit the restroom.” Before my instructor could answer I fled to the restroom, which was thankfully empty as I ran in front of the mirror to see what Tim was talking about. It did not take long to find out. My hair… the once honey-blonde hair was now tainted with a portion of black! “How… how is this possible?!” I stammered, running my hands through my hair and discovering some parts of it had turned completely black already, and the bun I’d placed it in now looked rather sloppy; as though my hair had grown a few inches longer in a matter of moments! I didn’t have a hat or anything to cover it with, and it was sure to get noticed if I stayed any longer as it was clearly getting worse! I had to think of something… anything to get out of here; as much as I did not wish to miss cello practice the number of questions and stares I was certain to get were not worth it in the least! Was this connected to…? I tugged down my skirt to look at my hip, where the purple treble clef tattoo was. Did that have anything to do with this? It was ridiculous! Magic and curses and witchcraft were pure rubbish, and here I am thinking otherwise! If something was happening to me, what if something was happening to Vic as well? As if to answer that question, my cellphone suddenly chimed in my purse. Taking it out, I saw it had indeed come from my boyfriend. Taking a deep breath, I looked at the text message he sent me. Honey? Something seriously fucked up is going on here! Please get home as soon as you can! Vic could be rather crude in his vocabulary from time to time, but ever since dating me he’s toned it down considerably. Unless he were extremely angry, or worried out of his mind he would never use that word. I looked at my reflection again, then back at the message. Did his hair start to change as well? I’d find out soon enough. Calm down. I’m on my way. I replied, switching off my phone and returning to the concert hall. “My apologies… I need to leave immediately.” I said hastily, holding up my phone briefly as I hurried over to my cello case. Tim stared at me like I had a cat taped to my head and I just gave him an annoyed look as I picked up my instrument and headed out the door before anyone could say anything. Getting into my car, I undid my hairbun and shook my hair out, staring at my reflection in the rear-view mirror as I saw my hair now had numerous black streaks running through it that seemed to be getting more and more prominent over my original color. Whatever was going on, it was affecting both Vic and myself, and who knew what would happen next. After a frantic drive home, I took a quick glance in the mirror and noticed even more of my hair had darkened, but that was hardly anything in comparison to what else I noticed now. My eyes looked different. Leaning in, I could see why; they’d turned from green to purple. “Oh god… what’s going on?!” I cried out, staring at them for a moment before remembering Vic was probably still waiting for me back inside so I quickly got out of the car and headed to the door, unlocking it and stepping in. The moment I did, I found Vic sitting on the couch, his headphones around his neck as always but what I’d seen happen to myself paled to what had happened to him. Vic’s once-brown hair was now much longer then it was and had turned an electric-blue color. “You too, huh?” He asked, staring up at me in awe. “It’s crazy, here I was mixing my tracks, and suddenly my hair keeps getting in my face and over my ears. I ignored it at first, but then it just kept happening and I realized that my hair shouldn’t be long enough to do that! So I get to the bathroom and… well imagine this but with a little less blue, but enough for me to message you about it!” he explained. “Vic? Let me see your eyes.” I said simply. “What? Why?” he asked. “Just… let me. Something else I’m concerned about.” I explained, sitting down next to him and leaning close so I could get a look. The moment I did, however, he immediately flinched back. “Jesus Christ, Livvy! Your eyes are purple!” he shouted, scooting back. “Yes. I’m aware. It seems to have happened on the way home. Now let me look at yours.” I said firmly, and soon enough, my fears were confirmed. “Well?” he asked. “Your eyes…” I said. “They’re… like an off-red. Magenta, I think it’s called.” “What?! No way!” Vic replied, getting up and heading to the bathroom. The shudder I anticipated came seconds after from the bathroom that prompted me to get up and follow him. Entering the bathroom, I found Vic standing in front of the mirror; his eyes and mouth wider then I’d ever seen them before in my life. “This is so fucked up… I got a gig at a club in two days! What am I gonna do?” He protested. “Well, with long blue hair and eyes like that, I imagine you’ll fit in quite nicely in a place like the one you’re having it in.” I replied dryly. I, on the other hand, looked like I was drawing ever-closer to fitting in with one of those gothic crowds. “This isn’t time for jokes, Livvy!” he said. “What if something else happens? I mean, seriously! Blue hair! Where does that make sense?” He tugged the side of his cargo pants down, staring at the eighth-note tattoo. “It’s gotta be this, right? Weird tattoos, now hair and eye color changes?! I’m worried what’ll come after!” I didn’t have any answers. I prided myself on a sense of practicality but this was beyond anything I could find a logical explanation for, now. “I… I don’t know, Vic.” I said. “We should look online again. There has to be something we missed.” Vic sighed, brushing back all the blue hair. “It’s worth a shot…” He said. As we returned to the living room and switched on the computer once again, and pulled up Google as we hoped to find something that connected to strange hair and eye color changes accompanying weird tattoos. An hour of searching and Vic getting distracted by news of a new game he’d been waiting on that he insisted on downloading the trailer to as a means of a break brought us nothing. We tried several word combinations for searches and still nothing. “This is bloody ridiculous!” I snapped. “I feel like whatever we’re searching for is sitting right under our noses the entire time!” I said as Vic continued typing in for tattoos, hair color changes, weird dreams, chimera monsters, and eventually for colored talking horses thanks to what I’d described seeing earlier when we both blacked out. The last one brought up an image from that old show that aired a couple years back, prompting a facepalm from me. “This is getting us nowhere. Maybe I should take over,” I said. “…what in the blazes is a ‘cutie mark’?” I wondered, noticing a thread linking to a site associated with that show making mention of something by that name appearing on them back on May first. “Aside from a word my manly pride keeps me from saying out loud, I have no idea. But that show’s fanbase is full of weirdos.” Vic said with a sigh as he kept scrolling. “I need a drink,” he muttered, getting up from the chair and immediately toppling over. “Vic! Are you alright?” I asked, rushing over to help him up. “Yeah, just… weird, I feel like my feet just sorta locked up or something,” he said. I looked down, he had on his usual black socks but he seemed to be assuming the ‘tiptoe’ position. “Can you try unbending them?” I asked. Vic strained a little, but seemed unable to move his foot out of that position. Sighing, I crouched down and put my hands on it, trying to force his foot into neutral position but he only shuddered in pain when I did. “This is rather unusual.” I said. “What about yours?” he asked. It was then I realized I’d yet to take off my shoes; which were full high heels so if the same had happened to me it would have probably not felt much different to me. Taking the chair, I crossed my legs so I could remove my shoes more easily, Vic watching my legs for a moment and prompting a brief, amused smile from me as he’d all but forgotten the situation we were in. As I took them off, I tried standing up again, only to notice my feet had locked into position as well. “What is going on here?!” I asked, trying in vain to flatten my feet out but to no avail. Trying to stand left me wobbly at best and as uncomfortable as high heels could get after awhile I decided a little support was better then none at this point so I immediately slid my shoes back on. “First we black out together, now our hair changes color and we can’t even stand right? What the hell’s gonna happen next?” Vic asked, exasperated now. “You had to ask?” I muttered. “What do you me—” his eyes widened. “Livvy… your ears!” he said, pointing. I brought my hands to my ears, and shuddered when I noticed they felt pointier. “What the… yours too!” I replied, noticing the same had happened to Vic, and he immediately brought his hands to his own ears and confirmed my claims. “What IS this?! Some kind of new disease? Some voodoo curse by someone who hates us?!” Vic demanded. I honestly didn’t believe in such nonsense, and even if I did, I couldn’t think of anyone who hated both of us enough to want us disfigured. Again, the internet didn’t seem to have answers but I doubted this was something anyone would post about and expect to be taken seriously. “I don’t know…” I said softly, retreating to the couch and sighing in defeat. At this rate I was more worried then ever what tomorrow was going to bring with whatever was happening to us. I felt Vic sit down beside me and put his arms around me, holding me close. “Hey, Livvy…” he said, “we’ve been through a lot together, crazy stuff here and there, we’ll get through this, too.” I turned a little and rested in his arms. I was unsure to believe his words, but the fact he was here, with me now, had given me some much-needed assurance. ~ We’d spent the next hour laying on the couch, in eachothers’ arms trying to stay calm but neither of us could think of anything to say that could make either of us feel better, Vic even didn’t seem to mind the classical music I turned on in the meantime and actually stayed awake for it. Honestly, I never understood how he could normally doze off from such beautiful masterpieces, unlike that dreadful noise I often had to listen to when he tested out the music he mixed… interesting how my thoughts on our clashing music tastes managed to keep my mind elsewhere, even for a little while. Dinner was not an easy thing to handle when neither of us could walk quite right anymore. I never expected I’d actually need high heels to maintain my balance but I guess there was a first time for everything. I’d spent much of my time in the kitchen preparing tortellini while Vic remained in the living room, wanting to walk as little as possible with our latest problem. I was about to taste-test when I heard Vic shudder in the living room. Forgetting dinner and heading into the living room, I found him sitting there, holding a long heap of hair that matched his own in color. Not only that, but his ears had now moved up to the top of his head and now looked like a cat’s… or a horse’s maybe. “Vic! What happened to you?!” I asked. “What is that you’re holding?” “I have a fucking TAIL, Livvy!” Vic shouted, then he suddenly pointed at me. “Y-your ears! Th-they’re—” Instinctively I brought my hands up to my ears and found they’d become the same way Vic’s was, and it was then I noticed the odd feeling at the base of my back. As I was wearing a skirt, I found it more comfortable to reach under and pull loose what was there. In seconds I noticed I now had a long tail of hair matching how my own now looked that now hung from under my skirt. “Holy shit! You have one too!” Vic observed. “Thank you for noticing!” I replied, holding the end of it in my hand and staring at the fine black hair it consisted of. It almost looked like some kind of… horse tail? “There’s no way this can be some kind of illness,” Vic muttered, still staring at his own. “What manner of illness causes a muscle lock in one’s feet, makes their ears go on top of their heads, makes them grow tails, and causes hair color changes on top of that?!” Vic gave no answer. “What do you propose we do, Vic? Go to the doctor, perhaps?” I asked. “What? No way! We look like total freaks they’ll probably want to turn us into science experiments and sell our kidneys when they’re done!” Vic protested, prompting an eyeroll from me. While I found the notion of us being dissected rather absurd, I did not feel entirely comfortable at the idea of going out like this now that I thought about it. “Just… let me at least get dinner. We can discuss what we’ll do, then.” I said, needing something, anything to keep me from panicking. Hurrying back to the kitchen and cringing as I felt my new tail brushing against my legs I finished stirring the sauce into the stuffed pasta noodles and put them on two plates, with a salad for us both to share. Bringing them into the living room with little trouble despite my new complications thanks to my experience waiting tables, Vic and I began on dinner, and I tried to ignore the slight discomfort of sitting on my new tail. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d done something different with the salad. The tortellini seemed oddly sub-par… “Whoa, Livvy! Did you do something new with the salad?” Vic suddenly asked. Vic was normally someone I had to pick and choose vegetables for, so this kind of reaction was unexpected. I took a bite myself and had to admit, it was a lot better-tasting then I remembered, and we hadn’t grocery-shopped too recently so I wouldn’t have expected it to be much different. “This is odd…” I mused, taking another bite and wanting more. “Hey, don’t hog it!” Vic protested, stabbing his fork into the bowl and grabbing more for himself, somehow forgetting all about the main course. “Vic!” I shouted. “This is rather uncharacteristic of you! Normally I’d have the majority of the salad and you’d barely touch it! Has this gone unnoticed by you?” I asked. Vic took a moment and pondered what I’d said, then stared at the bowl for a moment, an obvious longing in his eyes like I’d just offered him a slice of cake if he could sit still in front of it for a minute. “This is weird…” he muttered, looking back at his otherwise untouched dinner. If he ever took any salad it was get it out of the way, now he was trying to wolf it down. “Do you think… all of this has anything to do with it?” he asked. “It might… I won’t lie, the salad does taste unusually better then the dinner I made, and we both know years of working in a restaurant made sure that I’m a lovely cook.” I replied. “But a sudden change of diet, now?” “What’s in the tortellini?” Vic asked, trying some of his dinner but seeming less impressed then he usually was from it. “Italian sausage. Your favorite.” I replied, not sure if I should be offended by his apparent dislike for it he was showing, then again with what was going on it was probably the least of our worries right now. “Jeez, is it turning us into vegans or something?” he asked, taking another bite from the salad. As he did, however, my boyfriend flinched and rubbed his forehead. “Whoa… babe, I got a headache coming,” he muttered, “SHIT!” the moment he said this, the thing that, despite all that had occurred, easily topped all of them happened. I sat there staring in wide-eyed shock as he then looked at me in confusion. “What? What happened?” he asked urgently. I kept staring, the words not able to leave my mouth. A horn was growing out of his forehead!