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Prologue1,871 words
Part I, Chapter I - The Unconscious Changeling2,295 words
Part I, Chapter II - Rolling Over4,493 words
Part I, Chapter III - Unanswered Questions6,493 words
Part I, Chapter IV - New Day, New Beginnings1,479 words
Part I, Chapter V - Regrouping2,663 words
Part I, Chapter ? - Awakening (April Fool's Day)352 words
Part I, Chapter VI - Attempting to Communicate3,378 words

Part I, Chapter I - The Unconscious Changeling

You sit down on the couch, staring at the television screen as it silently plays the local news while an open water bottle simultaneously chills your right hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Chrysalis' immobile figure just kind of laying there. You shake your head and think about how your breaths are just a tad bit heavier than you'd like. Before drinking, you raise a hand to wipe your brow. Now, you would never think you're that out of shape, but the last three or four minutes have proven you wrong. As such, you take a mental note to do more active things with your life, then finally take a single sip, enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid as it fills your mouth and trickles down your throat.

Chrysalis, or rather, the pile of every blanket you own, lets out another soft moan. You stare at her, but, after only a few seconds of inactivity on her part, revert back to staring blankly at the television, watching the quiet images play whilst trying to think of anything other than your current situation. Unfortunately for you though, what's happening isn't something that can easily be brushed off and moved on from; it's a cartoon character in the real world. Even more unfortunate was that this wasn't just the real world; it was your apartment.

A quick glance towards the clock lets you know that it's only a few minutes past seven, and another quick glance towards the balcony shows you that the snowstorm is still raging on, possibly more so than it was earlier, which would probably keep you out of work through tomorrow. Also, just to add on to that bit of good luck, the thermostat still feels like it's working, which means the meeting with your landlord can be postponed. You've actually already forgotten what it's been set it to, but that didn't matter now: what mattered was that you were warm, and were more than likely going to have to pay alot more than usual because of it.

Another sound escapes Chrysalis, but this one sounds different than her usual weak moans and sighs; this one sounds like she was in pain. Now, even though you should really be trying to figure out why the plot to a bad fanfiction was playing out in your living space, you can't help but just not care, and instead find yourself throwing all caution to the wind with a want to get closer to the Changeling. So, slowly, one blanket at a time, you begin uncovering the Queen. It's a process that doesn't seem like it took any time at all whilst you were throwing things around on top of one other, but, during the deconstruction of the mound, it all seems to be taking forever. You also momentarily fear that the amount of blankets you possess might be well over the sane limit. However, sorting through them will have to wait for later, as only one comforter seperates you and the somewhat unknown.

"Fuck," you say through clenched teeth. The haphazard tossing to the side of your big red blanket knocks over your water bottle, spilling its contents on to the carpeted floor. You now have an even bigger choice to make: clean the carpet now and miss a possible something or other with Chrysalis, or skip the cleaning entirely and head straight for her.

"Fuck," you say again, dragging the multi-functional word out longer than usual as the urge to check on the Changeling beats out cleaning up the carpet. You try to find a bright side to the decision before buckling down and focusing solely on the task at hand, but, sadly, none come, and you realize you'll just have to hate yourself when you (inevitably) step on the damp spot later.

Chrysalis' leg extends quickly, delivering a sharp kick to your ankle, snapping you both back to attention and the ground. Through the stink-eye you give her, you realize that she may not have done it intentionally, or even consciously. After a couple seconds more of thought, you figure that, instead of moving on to the carpet, now would be as good a time as any to try and figure out what exactly made a Changeling tick. Another thought, this time of things turning south during your exploration, flashes through your mind, but you disregard it and advance.

Positioning yourself on your hands and knees in front Chrysalis, you finally notice that she's actually a fairly large creature; maybe a little over six-and-a-half feet when upright, and that wasn't even counting her horn-ish thing (though it probably wouldn't add much more anyway).

You extend a cautious hand to the leg that lashed out at you, keeping an eye on the rest of Chrysalis as you do so. Once contact is made with her thigh, you're greeted with the same odd feeling of smoothness from before, only now adding in a good bit of warmth. Your hand slides down an inch or so, gliding over one of her several seemingly unexplainable leg holes, followed shortly after by your middle finger accidentally slipping through one of said holes. It takes you a second to register what's happening, but you were a second too late apparently; the hole clenches around the joint halfway down your finger, and the sensation shoots adrenaline throughout your completely unprepared body. You let out a yelp and recoil, pulling your whole hand away before cluctching it to your chest as if covering up a wound. The hole squeezes the air twice more while you sit back and try calming the hell down, which you eventually do.

After regrouping, you stick your hand back out, this time a bit further up her body, resting again on her thigh, though it's really more like her back. Heat just seems to radiate off of her, odd considering she was outside and practically frozen not even fifteen minutes ago.

"Must be a horse thing," you think, shrugging the thought off and away.

You give her a quick rub, almost like you would a dog, then find yourself feeling a bit uncomfortable when nothing is there to rub against and feel, save for her smooth hide. However, one rub leads to another, and before you know it, you're pretty much petting an unconcious Chrysalis, which, you figure, totally wouldn't be very hard to work your way out of. You brain tells you you should stop, but your hand apparently isn't receiving the message.

A good minute passes by, and the petting's still happening, only you've now fallen into more of a rhythm, stroking along her side to the beat of some annoying song you heard earlier. The television's playing a "Head and Shoulders" commercial, with gratuitous shots of women combing their fingers through their hair as well as rubbing against their bare shoulders, which isn't helping you out any. Things are starting to build up in your head, and you can feel yourself getting more and more anxious whilst waiting for something, anything to happen and break you free from the seemingly endless cycle of silence and repetitive stroking.

Luckily for you though, when you turn your head towards the kitchen, you're greeted by something that isn't the sight of your ugly old toaster; it's Chrysalis' eyes staring right in to yours. It takes you a second to register what's going on, something you've found happening more and more over the past hour or so, but, even when you do, you're still frozen in place, your hand never stopping it's rubbing of the Changeling's thigh. She smiles softly, accompanying the incredibly cute face with what you could only imagine was a purr of some sort. Had this been a normal situation, such a thing would've been welcomed, especially were it from another human being, but, seeing as to how she wasn't, you begin to panic

Your mouth opens to start making some kind of psychotic noise in response, but you're cut short when Chrysalis clocks her head right in to yours.

***

You wake to a dull pounding at the front of your skull, accompanied by the faint sound of sobbing. Naturally, you're both confused and terrified, seeing as to how you've seen plenty of movies that play out exactly like this. However, you push past the horrible thoughts and slowly move your head around, which ends up being a terrible idea, because you instantly feel as if you've been pimp-slapped with a hammer.

There is good news though; you're still inside your own apartment, so about five movies can be crossed off the list. Unfortunately, the bad news is that the bone-chilling sobs still barely manage to cut through everything else, meaning that there's still about ten movies left on. Truth be told, if you had a choice, you'd much rather take another ass-chewing from your landlord than whatever's about to happen.

Your eyes lock on the television, which shows the news running a human interest story on some stupid video from the internet. Just next to the set though, is a peculiar black mark, looking almost as if someone scorched a small portion of the wall. In fact, now that you've got the word in your head, you swear to smell something burning, too; not to a crisp, but certainly more on fire than it should be.

You roll to your stomach, stopping yourself with a hand on either side of your body, resting like you would were you coming down from a push-up. Adding on to the mystery that is tonight, several more black spots like the one near the television litter the carpet and wall directly in front of you. You reach out and touch a small spot that's actually pretty close, and find that someone has in fact torched up your carpeting. Rage momentarily floods through your veins, knowing that the cost of repairs would more than likely force you to take up two shifts in order to make ends meet, but the anger subsides as curiosity washes back over.

You work yourself on to your feet, relying heavily on the couch for support, and somehow still falling only twice. However, you want to just lay back down and die as soon as you straighten out, as your eyelids flutter violently and your vision nearly fades to black, almost sending you back down to the floor.

You try taking a step, but end up swaying just a little bit. Luckily, you manage to balance yourself out with a leg, using it as a prop while you stick your arms out to the sides. Sadly, your "prop" sticks itself right in the middle of the wet spot near the couch; the exact same one that you really should have just taken the minute or so to clean earlier. Quickly, you look back to the whole dropping dead thing, which is beginning to look like more and more of a great idea, seeing as to how you don't see how anything could possibly make the night worse, but still you push on.

Now, with a damp foot, a sour mood, and your equilibrium back in check, you begin to move around the room and inspect. Unsurprisingly, just about every black spot you check out is the same; a torched surface with a faint burning smell. However, exactly what caused them is still a mystery.

Your mind flashes to Chrysalis, who was gone when you woke up, and also had something to do with fire (if you remember any scene of hers or a Changeling's correctly), both of which would make her a prime suspect. The rational side of your mind takes over milliseconds later, reminding you that, no matter what, she's still a cartoon character, and such a thing can't possibly exist, save for maybe in a dream. That'd make sense, since she was there until you woke back up, but wouldn't explain how you also went through the rest of yet another uneventful work day inside of what should be a fantastical dream. Perhaps you were just boring, and had dreams to match.

Nearing your bedroom with that last depressing thought, you freeze in place as the sobbing from minutes ago shoots itself back to the front of your thoughts with what sounds to be a final heave of exhaustion. To make matters even worse, the sound seems to be emanating from inside the room. Thoughts of death or otherwise serious injury upon opening the door cycle in your head, and the door to the staircase outside cries out your name, but for some insane reason, you feel that you absolutely have to know what's happening.

Swallowing your fear, you grip the handle and twist downwards, pushing the door open in one swift thrust of your arm. There, laying on your bed atop a charred blanket, is Chrysalis, the Queen of the Changelings, staring back at you with reddened and drowsy-looking eyes. You honestly have no idea how to react, since every other point in your life has never prepared you for such an experience, so you instead continue to stand and stare.

Moments pass, then finally, cutting through the silence with a voice that sounds like it's been run through a shredder, Chrysalis manages to get out, "Aren't you going to come and help your Queen?"

Author's Note:

Sorry about the wait.

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