Shot Day

Bro idk it's fiction

I tapped the last piles of papers on my desk and slid them into the blue folder on my desk. Finally, another week's worth of work over with.

In the office across from me, Mr. Shaddick was scribbling some last-minute notes on a pad. Likely something about another meeting next week. The firm was doing alright after the second war, clients were satisfied and everyone seemed decently pleased with their jobs. However, Mr. Shaddick always believed we could be doing better. And so another meeting would be scheduled to discuss how we could improve.

I checked my watch as I strode across the room to the door. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds away from my grasp. Nearly out of time. The effects had been edging on all day and I needed to get home.

Mr. Shaddick's door clicked shut in behind me and I heard him walking my direction. Glad he decided to clock out on time for once. I must be the last to leave, though.

Acting as nonchalantly as I possibly could, I pushed through the front door and out into dusk falling around the corners of the street. The effects would be much stronger soon, but they were already starting to become difficult to manage. I needed to get to safety, away from the eyes of everyone.

As I turned the key in my car door, I heard Mr. Shaddick stroll up next to me.

"Ah, Mr. Whitley! I wanted to inform you that we are taking on a new attorney on Monday, a Mr. Jameson. He's fresh from university and eager to begin. I believe you would be an excellent candidate to show him around the place. You know, teach him the system and everything."

"I'd be glad to, Sir. Thank you for the pleasure." I leaned back and smiled, holding out my hand. His hand felt a bit smaller that it should. I hoped he hadn't noticed.

"The pleasure is all mine. He'll arrive first thing in the morning. Thank you, Mr. Whitley." He spun back around and walked to his car.

I didn't mind showing a new associate around Monday, there were no appointments in my schedule tomorrow afternoon. The morning engagements would serve well to teach him the organizational system, and the free afternoon would be good for a full tour.

The drive home lengthened as the effects started to come in more strongly. Darkness was swallowing the street, dragging details from my view. I pulled into the driveway, exited my car, and rushed to the front door. My hands were changing in front of my eyes as I unlocked the door.

Once inside, I unbuttoned my coat and shirt as fast as I could, then unwound the cloth from my ribs. That first breath of air after was always magnificent. My chest shrank into my body, still full but with more hair. My feet grew as I slid my pants off. I could feel the medicine pulsing through my body. It felt electric, it felt warm, it felt invigorating.

It felt like becoming more human, more myself.

—-----

First days at university were simple. The professor walked in on the dot, opened a book, and started teaching you about something logical. You never had to speak directly to a classmate, even debates felt disconnected. Students collected in groups between classrooms, buildings, and other students. They all floated through me as if I didn't exist.

I truly wasn't one for socialization. This job would be perfect. The only time I would have to speak to someone informally would be casual "goodmorning"s if you happened to be in the same room at the same time. The actual work was easy yet challenging enough to keep my attention.

When I walked into the office of one Mr. Whitley, I am unsure what I expected. But it certainly wasn't him.

His brown hair curled nearly at the temples, falling to meet the frames of his silver glasses. His brown eyes caught the lamplight. Neat hands set down a pen and pad on the desk and short legs pushed the chair backward. He was younger than I expected, close to my own age.