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Writer's pictureTakeoverTales

6. Mirror

"Do I have to pretend to be him?" I looked at myself in the mirror, the nude body of the man that owned this house was reflected back at me. I had just watched my body turn into his, each bone and muscle shifting beneath my skin until suddenly I was standing there as Mr. Turner.



"Yes, we need to find that money and his wife is about to come home." I turned back to see my parter in crime shifting into his son. He stretched out checked himself out along the same row of mirrors. Curly blond hair grew from his bald head and his chubby body sucked right up in the tight muscle belonging to Mr. Turner's son, Sam.



"Well hello beautiful." He said to himself.


"Hello?" The front door opened and the both of us panicked, no time to explore the bodies we just turned into. We rushed to grab some clothes, Sam's room now containing the two passed out versions of the bodies we both had shifted into. I came downstairs and leaned into a kiss with my temporary wife and Sam joined me soon after wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.


"Gross. What's for dinner?" Sam said, leaning onto the counter.


"I was thinking we could go out to eat." Mrs. Turner put her purse on the counter.


"No," I said quickly, but stumbled over my next words, "we, I will cook dinner here. I have a pasta recipe I've been meaning to try out." As Mrs. Turner bent over to pick up a water from the fridge we made faces at each other. We knew they should stay here, the longer we waited the more likely the real versions of us would wake up.


"Yeah, dad was telling me about it earlier. One pan right? Let me know when it's ready." Sam turned away, rushing up the stairs to continue the search job while I got to work making the pasta.


"Wanna help?" I said, pulling out some of the ingredients from the fridge. We were lucky they kept this place well stocked or I would have been shit out of luck. We got the glass pan into the over and the smell of feta, tomato, basil, and other herbs filled the house.


"Got it!" Came from upstairs and Sam came rushing down with a black bag. I took off the apron I was wearing and tossed it on the counter, abandoning the whole thing. Turning back the Mrs. Turner we both laughed and waved before darting out the door.


"Good job, man. I was getting tired of that." We ran towards a car we parked around the block and hopped in.


"Now we get to have our fun." Sam said, lifting up his shirt and flexing his abs.

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Jan 03
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