Author retains all rights to this original work of short fiction.
Monday, June 20th, 8:15 AM – My apartment…
I woke with a sour taste in my mouth, much like a rotting egg sort of thing from what I could smell of my breath. I knew I wasn’t going to make it to work today feeling the way I did so I called my boss to say I was taking a sick day. I barely made it to the bathroom to piss, downed some antacid, and returned to bed.
Now, nearly two hours later, the antacid I’d taken had done nothing to calm my stomach or change that foul taste in my mouth. If this was some lingering effect of drinking half a bottle of Jägermeister while camping this past weekend, I was probably going to swear off drinking for a while. A long while!
The camping trip was with a group of friends and was to be an overnighter somewhere near the Mount Washington trail head in the Olympic Mountain range. Those intensions went to hell though and our plans got railroaded due to a couple significant others that tagged along. These women decided to join us to keep tabs on their men, we all knew it and as they’d likely screw up our trip.
Their first complaints began at the trailhead when they refused to be out in nature without having a toilet they could use. Where did they think they we were going – camping, mountain, forest – ain’t no toilets in the wild! Since these two couldn’t deal with having to ‘drop trow’ in the forest, even for one night, we ended up moving camp to a pullout area near the Mount Ellinor upper trailhead.
At this trailhead there was a toilet the women could use – a permanent fixture put there by the Forest Service. The next closest toilet was miles away at any of campsite areas that surrounded Lake Cushman in the valley below us. The rest of us could see a place to piss behind any number of trees we were surrounded by. I was sure poor cellphone service and being disconnected from their social media accounts were their next biggest complaints – I stopped listening to them after the move.
I didn’t know either of these women all that well and I, like the others in the group, did our best to not show our annoyance about our new campsite arrangements for the evening. We should be more pissed with Marcus and Lane for bringing their significant others – they should have known better! It would be ammo to razz them at future gatherings, hopefully without their women in tow.
There was a third woman in our group, Emma. She went to college with Danny and me. I had a lot of respect for her chosen career path and maybe I was a little envious of the woman she had turned out to be. We gave her major kudos for not giving a crap about toilets or bugs or creature comforts while we were out here camping. She was happy to be out of the city, away from work, and away from her ex. We all knew him to be a douche bag; it just took her longer to figure it out unfortunately.
Emma had her own camping gear; it showed signs of use and wasn’t freshly purchased for this camping expedition like Marcus’ gear. At the campsite, basically a pullout / short dead end dirt road off the NF-014 road, she was the first to get her tent up and everything she needed for the evening setup. She knew once the sun went down it would be pitch black out here, so setting up before then was the smart play.
We all got the sense Emma enjoyed the outdoors, not that she was a tomboy or anything like that, but she absolutely had an adventurous spirit. She wasn’t shy about getting her hands dirty and helped gathered firewood for the night, carried a few large / heavy rocks to construct a fire pit area, and even joined Danny, Rick, and I on a quick three-mile hike around the immediate area before the sun ducked behind the Olympics. No one seemed to miss the two couples, who stayed in the little tent city we’d built and stuck close to the toilets.
That evening we built a roaring fire, cooked burgers and hotdogs, and most of us drank ourselves into a blurred state. It didn’t take long for the group to dwindle down to just Danny, Emma, and I. The first to retire were the two couples – go figure. Then we gave Rick hell when he tapped out a few minutes later. By this time my bottle of Jäger was half full and I needed to take a piss like nobody’s business. I wobbled unsteadily towards the pitch black darkness of the surrounding tree line, propped myself against a tree, and…
That was the last thing I remember and figured I must have passed out. At some point I ungracefully pissed myself and vaguely remembering opening my eyes for a brief moment to watch odd looking headlights from some vehicle that pulled into the turnout we were camped at. I don’t remember it driving away, but I did try to get up, felt like I was pushed down, considered calling out for help, but in the end I blacked out again.
Emma found me just after the sun began to come up. She helped to get me cleaned up as best she could, without actually doing the work of undressing me and getting me into new clothes. This happened before the others finally started milling about. I was embarrassed, but I was more thankful for her kindness and ultimately spared being the butt of every joke for eons to come with this group of friends. “Remember that time John passed out and pissed himself when we went camping?” I would never, ever, live that down, if not for Emma’s help…
She surprised me by apologizing profusely for not coming to look for me after I left to go relieve myself. She and Danny thought I’d called it a night and didn’t bother checking up on me. I believed she felt bad and told her not to worry about it. I appreciated the three ibuprofen she’d given me, along with a couple bottles of water, and for helping me tear down my tent and loading it up in my car. I was hung over that badly and could barely pack my shit up.
By two-o’clock yesterday the group was fully packed up, the fire pit had gotten a healthy dose of water and dirt to cover it, and everyone left in their separate vehicles. It took every ounce of strength, mental focus, and determination to make the drive back to my apartment. My head was throbbing, my body ached, and the two hour drive to Kent was odd.
Not odd in the sense that I saw anything strange along the way, but odd in that I heard a strained voice say ‘You are John…’ multiple times while driving. The first time I wasn’t sure whether it was the radio or not, but I heard it again twice after I had turned the radio off. I almost hit the tail end of a semi-truck in the lane next to me when I peered behind me to see if there was someone in the car with me. That boost of adrenaline kicking in likely helped get me through the last half-hour stretch home of that drive.
Once parked in my assigned parking space, I wasted no time hitting the bathroom and puking my guts out. After the dry-heaves subsided, I stripped, climbed into the shower, and sat there on the floor until the water started to get cold. I felt a little better afterwards, but while drying off I noticed my arms, neck, and a few places on my face were covered with small little mounds. I resigned them to be my donation to the local mosquito population and rubbed a mixture of hand lotion and hydrocortisone on them.
For dinner last night I could barely keep down a sleeve of saltine crackers, forced myself to drink a few glasses of water, and went to bed after the evening news. I prayed I’d feel better in the morning, but as I lay here now, it wasn’t to be. Maybe another sit in the shower would do me some good.
Monday, June 20th, 8:23 AM – My apartment…
God this feels good I thought feeling the warmth of the water cascading over me while again sitting on the floor of the shower. I reached up for the soap and heard “You are John…”
I pulled the shower curtain back slowly expecting to see someone standing there in my bathroom, but there wasn’t anyone there. The last time I’d heard that was when I almost clipped that semi-truck yesterday. What the holy fuck!
I got to my feet and surveyed the misty bathroom – the door was closed, there wasn’t anyone in here with me – was I losing my mind? I turned the water off and stood there listening, nothing, no sounds, no nothing besides the occasional drip of water from the shower head. I turned the water back on, no sounds other than the water now cascading over me, water drops beating on the shower curtain, water rolling down the drain, it was…
“You are John…,” the voice said again clearly, more in control of its ability to speak.
“Fuck you,” I barked ripping the shower curtain back expecting someone to be there this time.
I waited a few moments, listening intensely for some sound of movement outside the bathroom door, anything that might…
“John…,” the voice spoke in a wondering tone.
“Who’s there,” I replied.
“What? You’re John too,” I asked.
The voice softly replied, as if next to my ear, “You are John…”
“Where are you?”
I didn’t let the voice complete its sentence, “Yes! I’m fucking John… Jesus! Who the fuck are you? Where are you?!”
“I am Kizantz…”
I heard the voice clearly, but couldn’t tell if it was male or female. The name ‘Kizantz’ didn’t provide any clues, but I was beginning to freak out because the voice seemed to be emanating from inside of my head. If this wasn’t some alcohol withdrawal kind of thing – I was fucking losing my shit… Could this be some kind of reaction to the thirty, forty-ish mosquito bites covering my body?
“What do you want?”
Monday, June 20th, 9:06 AM – InstaMed…
I hated these ‘Doc in a Box’ offices, but short of going to the emergency room and sitting around for most of the day to get seen, this was my best option to get help quickly. I checked in easily enough and after a fifteen minute wait was called back to an exam room. That led to me describing my weekend to the nurse, showing her my arms and face covered in mosquito bites, and her leaving me there to wait for the doctor who, ‘Would be in shortly’.
Ten minutes later the doctor got to hear my story all over again. Why did I bother telling the story the first time with the nurse I wondered? Did they compare stories? Sigh…
“You say you don’t feel right, can you expand on that for me,” he asked.
I told him about my stomach, feeling lethargic, and about the aches and pains I was experiencing. He asked me to take my shirt off so he could examine some of the mosquito bites. He didn’t seem all that concerned – but did spend a few extra seconds poking one of them at the base of my neck right at the hairline. Other than being slightly bigger it didn’t cause him any concern.
I felt it after he was done checking me out and was typing something into the computer. It was maybe the size of a dime and a little tender. Had some other bug bit me, a centipede maybe? I should ask…
“I understand you were drinking quite heavily,” he said without judgment, “Might be you got a little alcohol poisoning and are just coming down from that. We can run blood tests, broad spectrum, see if anything looks abnormal. The health history you gave the nurse appears very good. You’re sure you didn’t drink from any streams or tainted water sources?”
I assured him I hadn’t. I wasn’t that stupid and knew the dangers of picking up a nasty case of Giardia from bad water sources. I was more worried that maybe I’d picked up something from the mosquito bites. When I mentioned ‘Yellow-Fever’ and ‘Malaria’ he chuckled and explained those diseases were pretty much off the table for Washington State and the US in general. He said the blood tests would show any abnormalities he’d want to follow-up on. Be a day before the results would get back to him and someone would contact me.
His best guess, a final diagnosis, was alcohol poisoning. He didn’t lecture me about my stupidity for drinking so much in the first place, I appreciated that consideration. He said he could write me a prescription for something to ease the nausea and suggested I drink plenty of water or sports drinks with electrolytes to flush my system the next forty-eight hours. Eating bland food would be a good idea for the next couple of days also.
“Anything else I can do for you?”
I felt stupid for bringing up the mosquito borne diseases, but I felt like something more was going on. I was torn about mentioning the voice I kept hearing and decided I didn’t need a seventy-two hour mandatory hold / committal for my ‘safety’ in a padded room someplace because I was hearing voices. I accepted the prescription, waited for the nurse to come back and draw a blood sample, and was back in my apartment by 11 AM not feeling any better.
No little voice in my head for going on three hours. Maybe this was just alcohol relat…
“John you are not ill…”
Monday, June 20th, 11:14 AM – My apartment…
“What the fuck!”
“John is not ill…,” the voice repeated.
“Why are you doing this to me? Who are you?!”
“I am Kizantz. I need John’s help...”
“This is not fucking helping me! What is happening to me?”
I could feel my heart racing and sat on my couch, switching to a laying position to elevate my feet to keep the blood from drain out of my head. Whatever this was, wait is this some kind of joke? I stood back up and went to the bathroom thinking I would see if there was some kind of hearing aid speaker in my ears, but stopped – the doctor had looked in my ears and obviously there wasn’t anything in them. Fuck… I returned to the couch.
The voice in my head had been silent and I’d resigned myself to this not being some kind of fucked up prank. “Kizantz,” I asked.
Damn it! What do I ask? How do I figure this shit out? I’m not fucking crazy – there’s a voice in my head. “Where are you?”
“We are one John…”
My hand rose as if someone had lifted it above my head. I DID NOT DO THAT! I stood panicked, looked around the room, and tried to lower my arm. I couldn’t move it no matter how I tried. “Stop! Stop that,” my hand fell heavily to my side. “What is this? Why are you doing this to me?”
“You are the host… I have some control, some attachment to your subconscious, limited access to your history.”
“NO! That can’t be!” I sat back down and tried to convince myself that I was just coming down from alcohol poisoning. That’s all this is. I needed to get a grip!
“Do you remember the lights from 1.3 rotations,” the voice asked.
“Rotations, what are you talking about?!”
“This planet rotates…”
“Ah, yeah it does, so what? Are you talking about around our sun,” I asked
The voice was slow to answer, “Inti, Ra, Helios… You are aware of this? A single planet rotation, not a complete rotation around this ‘sun’.”
I had no idea what any of those things he named were, but ‘Ra’ sounded familiar for some reason. “I’m aware of our fucking sun and planet,” then thought about where 1.3 rotations would have put me – early Sunday morning? Wait! The vehicle headlights when I was passed just out in the tree line. Oh FUCK NO! This is not happening… “Kizantz, are you of this planet?”
No? No, as in whatever this fucking voice was or where it is, it’s not from this planet and inside of me. Can’t be! “You are not from planet Earth?”
“I am not from planet aithḗr, your planet which you call Earth…”
“And you are inside of me?” I knew the answer, my arm had just been raised and I wasn’t the one who had done that.
“I mean you no harm John…”
“Then what are you doing to me,” I asked worried.
“I need your help John…”
“I got that, you said that already, but why me? I don’t know shit man; I work for a composite airplane parts company.”
“You are a watcher of skies?”
“No, I’m not an astronomer or watcher of space shit! Aircraft parts, parts used for flying objects humans use to get us from place to place.” Fuck! Was this ‘alien’ not advanced?
“I need to confirm paths of objects entering your area.”
“Okay, paths of objects,” I said with some exasperation. “Objects? Wait, wait, are you trying to locate something that landed on our planet?”
“Correct. You know of objects in your area?”
“What objects? I don’t understand,” I replied exasperated.
“One’s you cannot identify,” Kizantz said.
Shit, like UFO’s? That stuff never turned out to be anything or was reported by some crack pot.
“Yes, my object may have not been identified. Did you see it from your position before the 1.3 rotations past?”
Okay, this is fucked up! Is this alien is reading my mind?
“I have limited access to your mind John; the thoughts of now are easier to translate than of your history.”
“I’m not liking this Kizantz. I don’t want you inside of me!”
“I’m not sure I understand. I will not do you harm John,” Kizantz said.
“What’s to understand? This seems like harming me. You’re someplace you shouldn’t be! People are going to think I’ve lost my fucking mind if I keep talking to you.”
“I have limited time John; I must complete my search before the Criona pretonal shifts, closes…”
“I don’t know what that is,” I complained.
“It is,” there was silence for a moment, “A pattern of distance beyond your comprehension. This pretonal will close in 1.2 rotations of your planet.”
“Like a little more than one of our earth days? You need to be in whatever a ‘pretonal’ is?”
“1.2 rotations, yes. It is a small duration of you species life expectancy.”
How the hell did this alien know that?
“Your species has been classified, measured…”
I don’t need to speak for you to hear me? You reply to my thoughts?
“You do not need to speak, but unless I say your words you will not hear my thoughts,” was the reply I could hear in my head, ears.
Fuck! Can others hear you?
“No, only the host can hear the words I say to John.”
What did you mean by ‘classified’ and ‘measured’?
“We have studied this planet for many of your planets rotations of your sun, but not as closely as others who have been here.”
Others? Like different kinds of Kizantz’? Aliens?
“Many species exist John; yours is less advanced than these travelers who have come to your planet.”
Great, we’re fucking idiots in space, is that what you’re saying? Never mind. Okay, okay, think. What do I need to do to move you along and out of my body?
“Access objects unidentified sightings. Help me find my object.”
And why can’t you do that?
“The tracking systems I have deployed have not found it.”
Then maybe it’s not here. I was torn between speaking and just thinking what I wanted to say to the alien inside of me.
“I cannot track where it is on this planet to the degree necessary, but I know it went no further in space, not beyond this planet, the area of 1.3 rotations in your past. However you wish to communicate I will understand your intentions.”
Fuck! My intentions are for you to be out of my body. That’s my want. Look, I can search Google for reported UFO sightings. I pulled my phone out and tried searching. The first listing was for the FAA. Shit! Emma!!
It wasn’t a question or at least didn’t sound like one. Emma is my friend, she works for our government, the FAA, directing aircraft landing in Seattle. She’s mentioned they get a daily report of UFO’s.
“Can Emma access this data?”
I guess, but let me see what other resources there are from my search. I could see there were twenty-two million references in my results for ‘UFO sightings’. I pulled up the second, ArcGIS Sightings Map. There were fifty or more references from yesterday in Washington State. Was the area you decided to jump in my body where you need to be searching?
Okay, well that narrows it down – there were two in that area and it says, “UFO’s OVER THE HOOD CANAL”. Not very helpful.
“That is not helpful, correct. Can you access the Emma?”
Access? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she would talk to me.
“When will you access the Emma?”
I can call her now.
Monday, June 20th, 11:32 AM – My apartment…
“Hey John, how are you feeling? I was going to call you later.”
“Yeah, hey, ah… I’m good, thank you for asking,” I replied hurriedly.
“Something up,” she asked sounding concerned.
“Oh boy, long story I’d be happy to tell you about over lunch, but I need a big favor,” I held my breath waiting for her reply.
“Sure, what can I do for you,” she asked with a tinge of worry in her voice.
“You remember that party we were at; I think it was at Leslie’s or maybe Kara’s?”
“I don’t remember a party at Kara’s. Must have been Leslie’s, I vaguely recall that party, why?”
“Yeah, okay cool. Ah, you remember you were telling us a story about UFO’s and that the FAA publishes a daily email about sightings, right?”
“That’s correct; it’s more of an FYI email though. We’ve got resources to find out more about anything reported. I’m a little worried about why you’re asking.”
“Is there any chance you can look to see if there was a report the night we were camping,” I asked cringing.
There was a long pause, “Seriously? You wanna know about any UFO sightings around where we went camping?”
“Yeah…,” I held my breath.
“May I ask why?”
“A favor for someone Emma, they checked a couple sites searching Google, but there’s a lack of detail. I was hoping whatever reporting the FAA has might have approximate coordinates or something more than ‘Boo! UFO over Kent’,” I chuckled nervously after getting all that out.
“You know this stuff is mostly crap, right?”
“I know. Look, lunch on me for your troubles. Can you help?”
She said she would and I could buy her lunch at Red Robin in Tukwila at noon. Her shift had just ended and she had planned to go home, but lunch on me and getting my story had made her curious.
Monday, June 20th, 11:36 AM – My apartment…
“If she has coordinates of my object, this will help,” Kizantz said right after I hung up.
So, on that day something landed on our planet in that area you found me and you are looking for it?
“Yes, that is correct.”
Why are you looking for it?
“On this planet you would describe what I seek as a child, children a single of this form.”
You lost your kid?
“If that is a child, yes.”
Crap… Hey, I’m sorry to hear that. Do they have the same ability as you, like to get into a human body?
“Yes this ability is valid with a child of my kind.”
Do you think your child is now in a host now?
“That is unclear, but they could be within a host and not make it known to the host,” Kizantz said in his monotone manner I was getting used to.
Why bother then? Seems like you’re enjoying fucking with me and most kids would be all for screwing with someone.
“It is difficult to initiate contact and a delicate thing. A child might enter a host to learn or explore. I am curious about Emma. Your thoughts of Emma are confusing. You desire to be with her?”
No, not be with her. She’s a friend. Stop poking around my mind damn it.
“I see, you wish to be her. This is your desire?”
I’m not having this conversation with you!
Monday, June 20th, 12:06 PM – Red Robin, Tukwila…
I, we, were in the lobby as Emma walked in the restaurant. She smiled, but then froze unexpectedly. She had a confused look on her face as if something wasn’t right.
“Go to Emma John…”
Why, what’s wrong?
“The child has sensed my presence in you, I must join with Emma.”
What! Here? Now! How are you going to do that?
“Touch Emma John!” It was the first time there was any inflection in Kizantz’ voice.
I did as I was asked. I grabbed Emma’s wrist casually, “Hey Em.”
I felt as if my feet were sliding beneath me and pain so severe I clinched my teeth and shut my eyes tightly, all while trying to maintain my balance while holding onto Emma’s wrist.
When I tried to open my eyes I could feel a stabbing pain in my wrist…
“John, you must pull your body outside…”
Huh? I focused and could see myself standing in front of myself. What I was seeing wasn’t what I was feeling. I could see my body holding Emma’s wrist, but what I was feeling was Emma’s wrist being held. Wait, how is it I’m looking at myself and feeling like my wrist being - OH FUCK!
“The child is now in your body John,” Kizantz stated.
Am I, I’m in Emma now? This can’t be! How?!
“The child knew I was coming and joined at the same moment,” he didn’t get to finish that thought.
“What the fuck John!” I heard my voice and saw the lips on my face moving, my face was contorted and full of fear.
“Outside Emma, I can explain,” the voice I’d just spoke with was hers and there was a queasy feeling building in my, her gut.
Kizantz! What the hell!
“John, I must leave you here to retrieve the child. Pull Emma’s wrist from the grasp of John now,” he commanded.
I did as I was told.
“What is happening to me John?”
“Come outside, I can explain what’s going on Emma.” I watched my body following me as I controlled Emma’s.
Kizantz? What is happening?
Kizantz? Fuck me!
Monday, June 20th, 12:09 PM – Red Robin, Tukwila…
My body and Emma’s, which I now was inside of, made our way to Emma’s car and got in it. Kizantz had not spoken to me since he’d instructed me to pull my, Emma’s, wrist away from my bodies grasp. No, no, no, this can’t be good.
I looked at myself, “Emma, I know you’re probably freaking the fuck out, I am too, but the alien said he would not harm us.”
I watched my face wince, which was really strange, since I was obviously NOT in my own body and NOT looking in a mirror. My eyes were shut and I could see my head begin to bob, chin touching my chest lazily, and then I watched in horror as my body slumped forward into the dashboard.
“Fuck! Emma,” I grabbed my body and eased it back in the seat. I watched as my eyes began to flutter and huff out shallow breathes quickly, “Relax, relax, you’re alright, I can explain Em.”
My body pushed Emma’s hands away and leaned back against the door just staring at me, “John?”
“I know, don’t freak out. We’ve swapped bodies. It’s temporary.”
She wasn’t listening, “Don’t freak out! Are you kidding me?! What the hell is going on,” I heard my body barking that question at me in full on panicked mode.
“Listen, the alien…”
“No! This can’t be happening! There’s…,” she stopped speaking and looked around as if someone was talking to her.
Kizantz! “That’s the alien Emma,” I tried to assure her soothingly.
My eyes looked to be refocused on me. “I’m going,” my voice began saying and I watched it struggle to get the car door open before puking outside of the car.
I rubbed my bodies back, marveling at the feeling I was getting using Emma’s hand to do that. “Easy, they are not going to hurt us,” I watched my body puke yet again. “It’s alright,” I said handing a few napkins from Emma’s cars center counsel to my body. This was a freaking mind bender!
When my face was cleaned up I could see it looking back at me, frozen as if it were listening to something. Then my body nodded and in barely above a whisper said, “He has the child.”
“That’s good,” I began, “How is he going to…”
“No,” my voice began to say.
“No,” I asked.
There was a long period of silence and I just watched my body as it appeared to be processing something. “One rotation,” Emma said.
“Yeah, he said it was 1.3 rotations ago that he took over my…”
Emma interrupted me, “No, he cannot fix this shit for one rotation. He said something about holding the child limits his ability to control the host and there can’t be two ‘sparks’ in a single host,” she stopped speaking as if listening to something.
It was fascinating to watch my body while I was inside of Emma’s. I wondered if I really make all those faces when worried or deep in thought or afraid. I was feeling quite calm with my consciousness laying over the top of Emma’s mind. I needed to focus though, “Okay, but he can fix this, right?”
She shook her head, “Not alone, the child held onto my ‘spark’ or something to do with consciousness… Wait,” I watched as my face looked to be trying to understand something, “The ‘spark’ he says is the embodiment of our subconscious and some kind of hook into memories. It can be ‘ported’? I…” Another pause and a worried look, “He said he can only access one at a time and will need help from a Tingetz to help get us back in our own bodies. He would bring my ‘spark’ back to mine, while at the same time Tingetz would port yours back to your body. All this would happen simultaneously.”
“Is that the ‘one rotation’ thing? He can get us back to our bodies in a day?”
My head nodded back at me. There was a concerned look now, “He’s going to leave,”
“What?! Like now! He’s leaving us like this!?”
More silence from my body sitting across from me that stretched for easily three minutes. I watched my face, now belaying no emotions or sharing what Kizantz was telling Emma who now possessed my body. Finally there was a deep breath exhaled, “He needs us to go,” a pause, “I suggested a spot down in Auburn, by the golf course. There are a couple parks, lots of trees for cover. Can you drive us,” Emma asked.
“Yeah, I guess. Okay, but then what? Some ship is going to appear? What’s going to happen,” I asked.
“He says his transport will be ‘present’. That’s all he’s saying.”
“Alright, then what? He comes back in a day with a Tinge thing and fixes this?”
There was yet more silence from my body sitting there staring into the abyss. I was getting used to this one sided conversation, though not liking that much. I kind of wish Kizantz was in Emma’s body with me, rather than with her ‘spark’ in mine. I had to trust Emma to coordinate the reverse swap of our minds back into our own bodies. What choice did I have?
“Tingetz is his, is a relative or something like that. I don’t understand fully, but yes he can fix this in a day.”
I started her car and we were off to Auburn for the exit of Kizantz and his kid. Emma and I would be stuck in the others body for a day. What could possibly go wrong with that arrangement?!
Monday, June 20th, 12:52 PM – Isaac Evans Park, Auburn…
The drive to Auburn was mostly done in silence, likely because we were both processing our current predicament. It was strange not being in my body, but seeing it sitting less than two feet from me in the passenger’s seat was even stranger. I could feel every sensation, thought provoking possibility while in Emma’s body as if it were connected to my mind, which it was I guess – at least partially.
Augh! This crap was too confusing and I’m sure from Emma’s prospective it was maybe worse. She didn’t ask for this, hell neither did I, but we were coping. I’d had a bit longer to process being abducted by an alien than she did. Of course she picked up on thinking and not needing to speak aloud to communicate with Kizantz quicker than I did. Maybe there was some curiosity on her part about this situation, being in my body?
At some point I’m sure this would all be a crazy story / experience we shared. It might even bring us closer together? Or, she would blame me and never want to see me again once we were back in our own bodies. One day, one rotation, and we’d be back to our normal lives. We could wait that long. I trusted Kizantz to not harm us and fix this.
At the park I watched my body exit the vehicle without saying a word and begin walking towards a sandy bank along the Green River near some trees. I followed a few feet behind and watched myself sit. I sat Emma’s body next to mine. “What happens now,” I asked.
“He’s explaining that I’m about to experience a great deal of pain. Wait a second…”
I watched the concern look on my face grown to a scowl.
“This is not going to be fun John,” my face said back to me.
I took my hand in Emma’s, “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right here…”
“Yeah, well this better work.”
“One rotation, we’ll be back in our own bodies and our lives will move on,” I said trying to stay positive.
“Okay, it’s about to happen.”
I watched as my body lie down on the sandy shore, take a slow deep breath, and take a final look at me before closing its eyes. There was a moment of calm on my bodies face, but it was replaced an instant later by a look of intense pain. I watched it convulse, stiffen, and I struggled with Emma’s body to keep my convulsing body from rolling over, but failed.
When my body went limp it was face down in the sand and I panicked trying to get it turned over and sand out of the eye sockets area, nose and mouth.
“Emma, Emma?” Nothing, but she was breathing, my body was breathing. I shook the body, “Em, you in there?”
One of my bodies hands moved and I watched as a panicked look took over my bodies face. It rolled away from me and dry heaved twice before coughing uncontrollably for a few seconds.
I could see she was trying to control the panic, slow the breathing my body was doing, “I’m so sorry, Emma. I think they are gone though. There was a tiny light, like a firefly or something that jetted away in a flash.”
It took nearly five minutes before she spoke, “You saw them leaving?” She began to wipe more sand from my bodies face.
“Yeah, pretty sure. He hasn’t said anything to you right?”
“No. Last thing he said was he was going and then I felt nothing but pain. I’m in here alone now I think.”
“And now we just need to wait until tomorrow?”
“Yes, but we’re meeting up at Tiger Mountain at this time with Tingetz to make the transfer back.”
“Did he say anything more? Like what his kid was doing,” I asked.
“No, just that the ‘child’ had went off to explore without authorization. I didn’t even know it was inside of me, but I felt it jumping from my body to yours and then when Kizantz jumped in here to get it, I felt that for sure.”
Emma was taking being in my body better than I thought, especially given the pain from when the aliens left it. I wondered if I would remember how that felt once I was back in my own body. “I was a bit scared when he jumped back into my body and left me in yours,” I said genuinely confused by this process.
“I don’t get this ‘spark’ stuff, but he said he couldn’t have both of our sparks in one host,” she said sounding a bit confused.
“I don’t get ANY of this stuff Em… Aliens! Like real extraterrestrial beings just screwed with our bodies! I’m in you, you’re in me – that’s really, really crazy!”
I watched my body pondering something and almost thought maybe Kizantz was still in there having a conversation, but Emma eventually said, “I have got to go to the bathroom, I’m not looking forward to that.”
I couldn’t help but smile, “Well, just whip the hose out and have at it.” I was chuckling, but stopped quickly when the look on my face said it wasn’t amused by what I’d just said. “Okay, look at it this way, you won’t have to sit.”
“I’m not enjoying any of this John and I want my damn body back!”
Monday, June 20th, 2:44 PM – My apartment…
We had to return to Red Robin to pick up my car and Emma, in my body, did get to ‘whip it out’ and piss in the men’s restroom before we left the park. She didn’t like any of that experience and I got an earful about it on the drive to get my car. I wondered if she thought I was endowed or not, probably not and I didn’t bother asking for fear of the answer.
As we drove back to Red Robin I could see she was deep in thought, “What are you thinking?”
I could see my head turn to look over at me, “I’m thinking I can’t take this jumping back and forth between looking at my body and thinking I’m looking in a mirror, but I’m NOT in my body and you are not a mirror. I think I’m just going to resign myself to being you, John, and stop thinking about you being in my body and speaking to me while I’m in your body…”
I told her that probably made sense in the short term and I had the same struggles. When I started to complain about this whole experience screwing with whatever ‘spark’ or consciousness I had inside of her body she barked, “Just drop it ‘Emma’…”
She’d called me Emma and that felt oddly comforting.
We decided to crash at my place, John’s place, after we picked up my car, John’s car. At John’s apartment I parked in a guest slot, while he parked in his numbered carport. I swung my legs out of Emma’s car and was about to stand, when I reached over and grabbed my purse. It was an instinctual motion, like my ‘spark’ was just along for the ride and deeper Emma memories or patterns of behavior were guiding this foreign presence in her body to do, act as she would normally.
When I joined John and thought I would have to lead him to the apartment unit, but he seemed to navigate to it like he knew where it was. Emma had never been in my apartment before – was this yet another blending of our ‘spark’ with the bodies we now inhabited?
I was thankful I’d left the place in a decent state, at least considering I’d been a bachelor for most of my adult life. I watched John look around, appear to get his bearings, and retrieve a couple glasses of water. I hadn’t asked, but he knew I would want water. Was that a residual thing Emma knew that she’d want water for her body while she was in my body? Augh…
We talked a bit about the camping trip and Emma explained that she thought the ‘child’ had entered her body while we were out hiking after setting up camp Saturday. She’d thought she’d been bitten by a horse fly and told me to look at my arm. I did and there was a dime sized dome, likely the entry point of Kizantz kid. It was near her elbow.
I told my story about passing out Sunday morning. She already knew about the pissing of myself, could she sense my embarrassment while in my body? I thanked her for keeping that quiet, her help getting my clothes changed, and packing me up. She waved it off as no big deal. I told her the entry point for Kizantz was at the base of my neck, at the hair line. She confirmed it was still there and held up my hand to show me a bump in the palm – I rolled a wrist towards her indicating it was how Kizantz and the kid went back and forth between us.
She informed Kizantz about the UFO sightings, there were two reported sightings for the area we were camping. The first was pinpointed by NORAD after a U2 spy plane flying over Washington tagged the sighting at 4:19 PM over the Olympics Saturday. The second was a satellite ping over the same general area at 3:41 AM Sunday morning. Both had been noticed by civilians and were the reason for the reporting I had found online before the body swap. Figures the populous wouldn’t have access to better data.
The conversation drifted to tomorrow afternoon and how we were to meet Kizantz at the Poo Poo Point hang gliding area up on Tiger Mountain. There was plenty of area to be invisible to the hang gliders or hikers should we need to be hidden. It was also a different area – so if detected by anyone or the government at least the aliens didn’t appear to be concentrating in the same areas. Emma seemed to take comfort in having all these ducks in a row.
I on the other hand was beginning to enjoy how it felt to be in Emma’s body. The way her dress swayed when her body moved, the weight of her breasts, even the sensation of touching…
I jumped, startled by John’s voice. “Nothing…”
“I know that look, it’s not ‘nothing’,” Emma challenged from my body.
I had to backpedal and threw out, “I think I’m hungry…”
“Hungry? Okay, well there’s a frozen pizza in the freezer if you want to throw it in the oven.”
I nodded, but was curious, “How do you know there’s a pizza in my freezer?”
“My freezer, at least for the next twenty-two hours.”
“No…,” I glared at my body, “You’re accessing my memories!”
“Maybe a little, yeah…”
“What the hell Emma!”
“Yeah, what the hell John,” my body barked back at me, “You, you ‘want’ to be me?”
“That’s crap! You seriously want me to dig out all the women’s clothing in your closet?”
“No…,” I replied stewing and fearing what corners of my mind Emma was accessing. How was she doing that while in my body?! I closed my eyes, I needed to think! I had access to her brains power, but I couldn’t see anything about her past or memories.
“Look, when we’re back in our own bodies, you need to fix this fake existence of yours. Being Trans isn’t a death sentence John. I can help you if you’ll allow me.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I felt relief and fear. Someone besides me knew my secret and it didn’t seem to matter to them. Emma even offered to help me after we were finally back in our own bodies! And, I… Tears began welling in my eyes and before I could comprehend what was happening, feeling, I was sobbing.
Monday, June 20th, 10:44 PM – My apartment…
We’d spent nearly two hours talking about my being ‘out’ now and I was reassured too many times to count that once back in our own bodies I’d have Emma’s full support. When the conversation slowed regarding my transition we realized we both were starving and went out for Thai food.
Of course it wasn’t just get up and leave, I had to fix Emma’s makeup after the few crying fits I’d had in her body. I was followed into the bathroom and as if I’d done makeup all my life I was able to fix a shockingly mascara smudged face with ease. I saw my former body looking at me stunned, finally saying that’s exactly how she’d have fixed the mess if she was to have done it. I told Emma I wasn’t this proficient at applying makeup, it was more likely some kind of muscle memory thing within her I was tapping into.
When I was finished and happy with the look of my face, her face, I got a pained look and said that I needed to go to the bathroom. That got me a good chuckle from her and a warning that I needed to absolutely sit – no hose to wipe out. She said it was going to be a bit of work and outlined pulling the dress up, getting my panties down, and she tried her best to describe a sort of squat over the toilet.
“Could be worse, I could have worn shape ware and pantyhose today. You’re lucky…”
I tried to process it all and hoped, like the mascara, this process was going to be similar – Emma’s muscle memory would guide the act of urinating and my ‘spark’ would just go along with the act. When she’d left me I hesitated for a micro-second and then did what I needed too as if it were, ‘second nature’. In total it was maybe a five minute ordeal from dress lift to a squat to peeing to dabbing with toilet paper to reversing the process and finally washing my hands. Easy!
After dinner, we did a little more talking and decided we needed to crash for the night. It had been a day full of crazy and John offered me a t-shirt and let me sleep in my bed, his bed, for the night. I was still getting tripped up by seeing and listening to myself.
There was a quick tutorial on undressing, makeup removal, and a polite pat on my shoulder when Emma, in my old body said, “Good night…” I almost felt like a kiss might be coming, but it didn’t. Why did I want him to kiss me? Would it be like kissing myself? Augh!
When my body, Emma’s body, finally hit the bed my ‘spark’ thingy was slow to stop spinning. My lasts thoughts were how perfect being Emma felt and I was resolved to transition once I had my old body back. I was finally going to take action on being the woman I felt inside, to be the real…
Tuesday, June 21st, 10:44 PM – Hwy 18…
Because I had a small collection of women’s clothing before the alien mind / body swap I was able to have something cute to wear to meet with Kizantz for the swap back to our former selves. Emma as John approved of the hoodie, purple spandex leggings, practical panties, and tennis shoes with a pink ‘swoosh’ on them as my outfit for the day. None of the bras I owned as John would fit Emma’s 36C breasts, so I had to wear hers from yesterday. She said she’d get the clothes back to me later in the week.
We both called in sick to work, John claiming to my boss he’d tested positive for COVID – which meant once our bodies were swapped back I’d have a couple days to focus on the planning steps for my transition. Emma’s boss was cordial when I called, but I sensed he was kind of prick – Emma confirmed that. She also relayed that her ex was a friend of her boss. Guess that explained the guys tone…
We talked a lot about whether to mention this experience to anyone last night and this morning NOT saying anything still held true as we headed out towards Hwy 18 to make our way to the Tiger Mountain summit. From the summit it was an hour’s long hike up to Poo Poo Point where we were to meet Kizantz. We’d passed the Issaquah / Hobart Road exits, easily a mile behind us, when traffic came to a screeching halt.
I flipped to the local news station and heard that there had been a severe accident at the top of Tiger Mountain with fatalities. Estimates were into the late afternoon before the investigation would be completed and traffic allowed to pass. Avoid Hwy 18 in both directions the announcer said at least three times. Dang it!
We were boxed in with no way of moving forward and vehicles were lined up solidly behind us. The highway was divided with a concrete barrier and there was no way for us to manage the shoulder for a turn around. We had only planned an hour’s buffer into the plan to meet Kizantz, surely he would wait for us though, right?
“Okay, traffic isn’t moving forward and as far as I can see behind us nothing is moving. We’re going to have to make a decision here…,” John said looking at his phone.
I knew Emma was looking to see how far it was to the top of the pass. “What,” I asked worried.
“From right here we’re nearly four miles from Poo Poo Point. If they start turning traffic around behind us, we could make it to the trailhead off of Issaquah / Hobart Road, but that trail to the summit is a grind, I’ve done that hike before…”
“Any chance we can loop around via Interstate 90 and then back track to the top of Tiger Mountain from the other direction?”
“You heard them say they weren’t allowing traffic going either way. I haven’t seen a car coming down Hwy 18 in a while.” No sooner had he said that when a State Patrol vehicle went speeding by with sirens and lights – going the wrong way up the divided highway.
“Kizantz said he wouldn’t harm us Em, I know this probably feels like harm to you, but he’ll make this right. I believe he’ll be there no matter when we get up there. Let’s get to the trailhead and see what happens. We don’t have much choice at this point.”
Tuesday, June 21st, 6:01 PM – Poo Poo Point, Tiger Mountain…
It took nearly two hours for us to get turned around and heading back towards the Issaquah / Hobart to Hwy 18 north bound on-ramp. From there it was a fifty minute drive in heavy traffic to the parking lot and the Poo Poo Point trailhead. John was right, the hike up the trail to the summit was a grind and not ideal for someone wearing tennis shoes.
We broke out into the open just after 4:30 PM and decided to hang out in the tree line. We were later than Kizantz had stated to Emma before he departed my, John’s body – but we were here. After some anxious waiting and no ‘contact’ we decided to split up and walk the edge of the tree line – maybe he just couldn’t see us. On the third lap around the tree line we began to get worried and with less than three hours of day light left, no supplies, nothing to keep us warm out here – panic set in hard.
“This is fucking crap…,” John said when we met up close to the trailhead.
“He’ll be here,” I said trying to hold the worry from Emma’s voice as I spoke.
“God what I’d give for a bucket of cold Corona…,” he said smiling at me.
Drinking was off the table for my former body when I got back into it and… Whoa, why did that sound familiar? Then I remembered. Oh no! I looked at my former body, “Emma,”
“You should be calling me John until we’ve swapped back. What?”
“I think we’ve got a problem…,” I whispered.
“What, like an animal or something? Where is it?”
“No… Nothing like that. Did Kizantz say anything about a pretonal to you?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s something that he said would ‘close’ when we were first getting to know each other yesterday. He said it would close in 1.2 rotations…”
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I… I think he said its name was the ‘Criona pretonal’ and when you said Corona it reminded me. Why would I think about some alien whatever closing and him having limited time here? I just want this to be over with and back in my body, just like you!”
“Easy, what time did this happen, this statement about 1.2 rotations happen?”
“I don’t remember exactly, like around 11 AM, no later than 11:30 AM.”
I could see my face in deep concentration as Emma was calculating numbers and his shoulders slumped. “Well, I… Fuck, I think we’ve missed him. We got up here a half hour too late.”
I just stared at Emma in my body. This can’t be happening; Kizantz said he meant us no harm. No! I watched John begin walking away from me, towards the trailhead leading back down to the car.
The hike back to John’s car was done in silence that day long ago. I tried multiple times to get him to talk to me, but he – Emma within my old body – said nothing. On the drive back to his apartment he laid out a plan that involved us being a couple so we could help each other deal with our new existences for the short term. I think Emma was hoping Kizantz would return and she didn’t want me out of her sight while I was in her former body.
That arrangement lasted three weeks and resulted in a fight so bad that I have not spoken to him in two years. As John, Emma had all the same crushing dysphoria symptoms I had suffered with when I inhabited that body. No matter how much I tried to help her deal with being captive in my old male body – she wasn’t dealing with it very well and began to withdraw, became increasingly more angry about being ‘male’, and distant. I knew the signs, the looks and mannerisms of my former body, and I could tell the anxiety was crippling Emma as the reality of her new existence began to look permanent.
Assimilating into Emma’s existence for me was easier than I had thought it was going to be. I eventually figured out how to access every part of her mind and I learned a few things. The typical things – first kiss, first loves, fears, desires, schooling, and surprisingly she’d thought John, my former self, was gay. That likely wasn’t helping her navigate her future within my old body.
Finding that out hurt my feelings a bit. I wonder if she had tried to talk with me about it back before the transference – maybe I might have come clean about my being Trans when I was John. I’ve wondered how she was dealing with that now and whether the ‘spark’ from Emma being inside of my former body took her, as John, one way or the other in regards to transitioning or coming out as being Trans. I often thought about reaching out – but didn’t because of the fight we’d had and she knew how to get in touch with me.
An interesting discovery, the night Kizantz had abducted me and I’d pissed myself as my former self, Emma had hooked up with Danny. That was why she felt so bad about not coming to look for me when I went off to relieve myself and hadn’t returned. We, John and I, avoided most of our mutual friends while we worked out our new existences in our new bodies over those three weeks before our big blow up. I especially avoided Danny during that time and after it. While the prospect of intimacy was appealing, I as Emma thought it would be disrespectful to Emma if Kizantz returned and swapped us back and I’d carried on with Danny. Her feelings for him really weren’t that strong I felt as I probed around her mind.
Performing Emma’s job as an air traffic craft controller was not an issue, essentially all muscle memory and of course having full access to her mind was all it took. Emma, as John, had the same experience with my old fabrication job. My SeaTac FAA boss was in fact a real ass, so I eventually transferred to Austin, TX two months after resolving Kizantz wasn’t coming back and becoming Emma since. I might have reported his abusive nature as the reason for the transfer.
I haven’t heard from Kizantz, but look at the UFO report daily the FAA produces. One of the last things I said to Emma in my former body was that I would gladly swap back to my old body if Kizantz ever showed up. She, John, knew my number and I wasn’t hiding or running or wouldn’t give her body back. It would be tough to give this existence up, but it would certainly prepare me if I was returned to my old body and I transitioned.
I quite enjoy being myself, being Emma, and a woman. The ‘spark’, or whatever that encapsulated bit of my previous existence as John was that Kizantz transported into Emma and left, is barely a footnote in a long ago locked away place in her brain. I feel guilty about the way I became a woman – through transference of my ‘spark’ into Emma’s body. I doubt there would have been a way to prevent the alien abduction or the ‘Criona pretonal’ thing from keeping Kizantz from coming back to swap our bodies back as planned.
I’ve been in a few relationships with a couple men over the past couple years. None lasted all that long, not from a lack of effort on my part. I think they were mostly after hook-ups. I didn’t sleep around, but I did enjoy every facet of sex as a woman. There was a pregnancy scare during one of those relationships, but it turned out I was just late. I absolutely OCD’d about contraception after that. I knew Emma would like to have children, but she wanted to be married and established before that happened.
It’s been a mind altering adventure daily since that camping trip. I don’t camp any longer, but I do look at the stars a bit differently now.
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