Shifter HRT, part 9 ā Hunger (13 Months)
A bell rings as I open the door. Iām at the Heart Mender Boutique ā the shop Sandy told me about at the Hyper Light Festival ā and Iām looking for something special.
Thereās so much packed in here that it almost feels bigger on the inside ā and who knows, here in Hyper City, it might actually be. They specialise in clothes for all kinds of nonhumans ā some tiny, some huge, some with holes for tails or wings or other limbs. There are fireproof clothes, waterproof clothes; things to help you breathe underwater; fabrics Iāve never heard of from a dozen other worlds; and even, according to the labels, things with patterns in ultraviolet or other colours that I canāt even see. They have everything.
Thereās the faint scent of perfume. I run my hands over all the different fabrics and rub them between my fingers, feeling the differences in the materials and the weaves, all the tiny details I would never have been able to notice before. Iāve been noticing this in my own clothes for a while now. It would be easy to lose track of time here, just touching everything.
Iām looking mostly human today ā just pointed ears and horns that Iām trying out. Itās justā¦ easier, not doing more, thanks to the human clothes Iām still wearing while I canāt form clothes myself. Thatās why Iām here. They have clothes for shapeshifters, too, just as Sandy said ā but when I stop at those shelves, the tops and trousers there look very plain, and very human-shaped. I donāt know what I was expecting.
āCan I help you?ā a voice behind me says.
My first instinct is to form an eye on the back of my head ā but of course I canāt, not yet. I still have to face whoever Iām looking at.
The person standing there isnāt human. Iām sure of that immediately. But itās subtle. A real human might not be able to tell. Instinct tells me this isnāt someone trying to pass ā as I might back home ā this is a disguise, and itās only my sharpened senses and eye for detail that let me see through it. Who and what is she? Another kind of shapeshifter? Instinctively, the little mistakes sheās made, the little tells that give her away, feel different from the kind of mistakes someone like me would make. Here in Hyper City, with its connections to so many different worlds, she could be anything. But her smile is pleasant. Sheās as fascinating to look at as the fabric was to feel, and I try not to stare.
āI want to try these,ā I manage to say.
She takes down a top that seems way too small for me, and explains how it works. I go to try it on. As I pull it on, it expands to the perfect size. I form a tendril and push against the fabric; and as I do, the fabric splits into a hole that wasnāt there before. I form two whole arms, and the fabric splits just as easily at the shoulders. Itās comfortable. Itās responding to pressure, as far as I can tell ā but itās neither too loose, nor too tight. I pull the arms back into my body, and the holes seal up behind them. Itās completely seamless, even to my senses. Itās perfect.
I canāt help but laugh. I form half a dozen tentacles all over my body ā all of my skin has turned, now, so thatās a thing I can do, no problem at all ā and the shirt adapts to match. I havenāt felt this free in months.
I take three whole sets ā tops, trousers, even some underwear. Itās expensive, but oh so worth it. The shopkeeper explains that they can change colour, too, though I donāt really understand the explanation she gives. Colour is something I havenāt really figured out yet. I leave with two small wings and a little tail, wondering what the truth is behind her ever-so-slightly nonhuman smile.
But I donāt think about that for long. Iām hungry. My stomach is making all kinds of strange noises. So I stop at a fast food place and eat a whole double cheeseburger. That doesnāt seem to do anything, so I eat another, and Iām still hungry afterwards. Iām thinking about food all the way home.
āYouāre going to be hungry,ā my provider said at my one-year checkup, just recently. But I had no idea it was going to be like this.
I ransack the cupboards. I eat as much as I would normally eat in a week, and I still want more. I go to the supermarket three times in as many days, and come back each time with a full load ā and by the end of each day Iām hungry again. By the end of the week Iām even munching down all the dry stuff that a human wouldnāt be able to stomach without cooking, just so I donāt have to go shopping again. My cupboards are completely bare.
And frankly I have no idea where any of it is going. If Iām putting more in one end, youād expect thereād be more coming out the other end, but itās the exact opposite. Even with my body awareness showing me in excruciating detail everything thatās going on in my innards, most of the food is just disappearing ā or, more likely, going somewhere I canāt see.
Because all of this eating is definitely doing something. More of my body is turning to goo, as usual, but when I change my form, itās clear Iām not just moving around whatās already there, like I was before. I can change my mass. Only by a tiny amount, but I can tell. The more I eat, the more that amount slowly increases. Donāt even ask me how that works. Mature shifters can change size massively, from tiny rodents all the way up to huge dragons, so eventually that amount is going to increase a lot.
I donāt know for sure if itāll even stop. Maybe itāll keep increasing as long as I live. Everyone agrees weāre long-lived, and some of the old stories even claim weāre immortal (as long as nothing kills us in the meantime), but I have no idea if thatās really true. Iāll need to ask my provider, next time Iām there.
I can feel something I couldnāt feel before. I feelā¦ bigger, somehow, even when Iām not. Or maybe itās the potential to be bigger? Itās like another new sense, to go with the full awareness of my body ā awareness of my size limits. As a human, where my size couldnāt change, that wasnāt something I would ever need. Now, it makes sense.
And I can add or subtract the extra matter from anywhere. If I want to make my arm longer, I can just make it longer, without having to take goo from anywhere else. But even when I really focus, I canāt tell where itās coming from or where itās going. I can justā¦ make there be more or less of me, and conservation of mass be damned. Theories online say extra dimensions or pocket universes or something. Iām clearly becoming more than your standard three-dimensional blob, somehow or other ā and thereās a certain satisfaction in breaking our best understanding of fundamental physics, just by existing. If Iām burrowing into the foundations of spacetime or something, well then no wonder Iām hungry.
The fluid in my pills merges directly into me now. Iām not taking estrogen anymore ā my provider told me to stop last time we spoke. Not enough human left to need it. That feels good, though itās funny how easy it is to stop taking something that was such a big deal when I started it.
Iām hungry again. It just doesnāt seem to stop. Time to go eat.
One morning I crawl out of bed even groggier than usual. I make myself a big pot of coffee, and it takes a few attempts to get everything in the right place before I can pour it out. I stick my hand in the cup and drink the lot before I even realise what Iām doing. Itās only the feeling being so different from usual that finally shocks me into awareness. That was absorption, not drinking.
My instincts have been telling me to do this for months ā and now I finally can. I want to absorb everything. Through every part of me thatās fluid, thatās a thing I can do now. I grab a handful of cereal and really pay attention this time. Itās totally different from flowing around things to hold them inside me ā which Iāve been doing increasingly often, as a poor substitute until my body caught up. Instead, itās like I pull on them somehow, and feel them coming apart, layer by layer, piece by tiny piece, dissolving and becoming part of me. I taste them ā though itās perhaps less intense than tasting things while eating normally ā but thatās not the main thing. Not by far. Itās theā¦ knowing. All the tiny little details ā the materials, structure, colour, texture ā everything. Itās wonderful. More than I could ever have imagined being able to comprehend, but I can.
I canāt even begin to describe it properly. I donāt think anyone could ā there just arenāt the words. No wonder shifters donāt describe that part in the stories they write.
And so I stumble around the flat all morning, absorbing everything I can get my hands on. And not just my hands. At some point I notice Iām putting a lot less effort than usual into looking human, or even humanoid, and I donāt care ā Iām a muddle of human parts and fluid and limbs. I empty out the cupboards yet again, and this time everything feels new. Familiar things experienced in a whole new way. And not just food, but metal and plastic, wood, ceramic, bits of paper, some of my old clothes, dishes, everything. By the time I eventually slow down, Iāve even taken chunks out of the furniture, the floor, and the walls ā oops. Maybe I should have thought twice before trying that one. Itās so much. So much information, and none of it in words. Every little thing Iāve absorbed has its own feeling to it. Iāve already noticed that some things take longer than others ā organic materials are fast and easy, but metal and stone take much longer. I didnāt find anything that felt like I couldnāt absorb it at all, given enough time. This, for sure, is what Iāve been missing these last few months.
I lie on the floor in the middle of the chaos ā yup, Iāve made rather a mess ā grinning massively with whatās left of my human face, slowly absorbing a cup and an old shirt at the same time. I could become that cup. I can almost feel how. Except when I try, nothing happens. My body canāt do that yet. Still too much human left in there. Instead I form a little replica on my palm ā and itās easy. Itās crude ā Iām not skilled enough yet to reproduce the immense amount of detail I got from the original ā but itās far better than what I could have done before. From everything Iāve learned today, I feel like I could start extrapolating to other forms. This is how Iāll learn.
And, for once, I feel slightly less hungry.
The urge to absorb things is intermittent, and sometimes I canāt make any sense of everything I get from it. Sometimes I get weird feelings of movement or vertigo, even when Iām lying still. I blame my brain. Itās still there, and though more of me is fluid, itās still holding out. Donāt want it going till the new part of me is able to take over, I suppose. But Iām sure all of this confusion is from thinking with two different things that donāt really match up. Can you believe Iām looking forward to my brain dissolving?
Iāve been practising other things, too. Iām learning to move while fluid ā sliding around on the floor, in other words ā and I may still be mostly human-shaped, but look at me go! I can see with the parts of me that are fluid ā not well, but itās slowly improving. All my senses are there ā though not as sharp through goo as if I form dedicated sense organs for them. As for that, I can form extra eyes, but they donāt connect up yet. I mean I canāt see out of them ā which is pretty pointless, unless I want to go around freaking people out. I blame my brain for that, too. I bet I could make my eyes much better than a humanās, though I have no idea how.
I even had the possibly crazy idea to try absorbing a book. Iāve been told this is a very me thing to do, and I guess thatās right. Normally I would never even write in a book, never mind eat one, but curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know if I could absorb the knowledge in it directly ā but, no, it doesnāt work like that. I know what every single page looks like, but Iāve got to imagine them ā or become them, as far as I can ā and actually put in the time to read them. Two different parts of the mind, I guess?
Sometimes the urge to absorb things is really strong. Iām still hungry, and Iām still eating a lot, but this is more than just wanting nutrition. I want to know. I want the forms. Iāve found myself watching animals outside much more closely than usual, and that worries me. Thereās a story going around online ā though I donāt know if itās true ā about a boy who started off human and became a shifter, years ago, long before shifter HRT was invented ā Adam, they call him, the first one; how appropriate. Or at least thatās what everyone thought had happened. In fact, or so the story goes, a young shifter who had been kept in isolation all its life, and never allowed to experience anything, had absorbed the boy on instinct and had, in effect, become him ā was convinced he was him ā even though the original boy was dead. Is it true? I donāt know. Iām not sure anyone online knows, either. But either way, itās a warning of how far absorption can go.
Itās been weeks. The changes are still too slow. I thought by this point I wouldnāt mind so much, but thereās still so much human left in me, getting in the way. I wonder if I can speed it up a bit? Maybe if I just pullā
Fuck. I accidentally absorbed half my liver. It hurt like nothing Iāve ever felt before. I didnāt know I could even feel pain there!
I am never doing that again. Iāll be patient now, honest!
Featuring the Heart Mender Boutique from Black Arms HRT by @home-sweet-hive.
And it's back! ...a year and a half later. The whole story is written now, and I'll be posting the remaining chapters, one a day, for the rest of this week. The story will end with part 13 on Friday.
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