Blue Bug From Outer Space - Part Three by: Enemyoffun Jaime Reyes is a kid out of his element, who dreams of a life better than his own. He finds such a life when he stumbles about a strange blue stone in the garbage and his whole world changes.

-----

Author's Note: Here's chapter three, a day earlier than I thought I was going to post it. I put a Caution tag on this one because there is a potential rape, it doesn't get that far but it gets close. Just like before the blue text will represent the Stone speaking and the italics, not in the dream, will represent Jaime speaking to the Stone or the Voice as it's called right now. Be prepared for a fantastic cliffhanger at the end. I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and DC Comics for their wonderful characters.

-----

Chapter Three:

‘Care for one, miss” said the waiter as he held a silver platter in front of me.

Then it happened. The door seemed to turn to mush and I fell through it. His hand slipped from my throat and I tumbled into darkness…

_______________________________________

I stumbled out of bed, hitting the floor as hard as I could.

I gasped, the jolt knocking me awake. My hand went to my throat, rubbing away the pain that was there. I groaned, there shouldn’t have been any pain; it was a dream. I tried to rack my brain, figuring out what just happened. I sat up and looked around. I was in my room; the morning sun was streaming through the windows. I looked down and I still had a flat chest. I sighed. I touched my chest just to make sure though. When I did, my nipples were kind of swollen and itchy but they still belonged to a guy. I pulled open my boxers and looked down. My thing was still there and still the size it should have been. Thank God for that. I pushed a long strand of hair from my face and groaned.

I jumped to my feet and ran over to my desk. There was this little mirror I kept there to pop zits when needed. I opened the top drawer and rummaged through the junk inside. I found the mirror, pulled it out and looked at myself. I groaned again. My face was softer than before. My eyebrows looked even thinner now and my lips looked a bit fuller too. Not only that, but my hair was long again, about the same length it was at Paco’s house. I stumbled over to my bed and sat on it numbly. How could this be happening to me? I let the mirror slide out of my hand and drop gently onto the carpet. This shouldn’t be happening.

I cried. I’m not proud of it but what else could I do. I cried for a long time. How was I going to explain this to my parents, especially today? It was Sunday. I looked at my alarm clock and sighed, it was only seven in the morning, I still had a few hours before anyone else got up. But there was still no way to explain how I looked now. In a couple of hours my mother would be knocking on my door, telling me to get ready for church. My parents were devout Catholics, so of course, I was too. We went to church every Sunday, from nine in the morning until one in the afternoon. Father Manuel was a friend of my father; they grew up together. After my father was shot and bedridden, he and the church helped a lot. How am I going to hide myself in church? We weren’t allowed to wear hats and not going would be considered a sin in the eyes of my mother.

Unless I was sick of course. It was the only plan I had but I really hated lying to my mother, especially on a Sunday. If she found out, the punishment I got from the car incident would be child’s play in comparison to what she’d do to me. But there was nothing else I could do. I had two options: go to church and be stared at or stay home, pretending to be sick.

I slipped off my bed and went to my bedroom door. I opened it up and peered out into the hall. No one was up, just like I thought. I took a deep breath and slipped down the hall, making my way as quick as possible to the bathroom. I closed the door and locked it then ran to the mirror. My face was definitely different. I still looked like me but I looked like someone else too. I hadn’t tried to think but there was a little bit of a girl staring back at me. It was kind of subtle, but there was no denying it now. I looked a lot like my reflection in the mirror that appeared in my dream. I reached up and gently touched my face. How was that even possible?

I squeezed my cheeks then pinched my arm for good measure. I yelped and groaned, clearly I was awake. Hey, it was worth a shot right.

I continued to stare at myself for a while, trying to see if there was a way I could fake things. Well if no one looked at me too closely I suppose I could pull it off. Then I remembered what day it was. We were going to church; there was no way no one couldn’t look at me. I’d have to receive communion, Father Manuel would be right up close. He’d see my face even if I were turning away. I groaned. I wonder if he’d recognize me. I turned my head both ways, trying to see if I recognized me. Like I said, I still looked pretty much the same but I looked different too. I suppose I looked a little bit like Milagro or what she might look like in a few years. I’m glad I was still Hispanic though. I couldn’t imagine waking up and looking like some white girl.

I finally tore myself away and went about my morning routine. I brushed my teeth, splashed water in my face and stripped. I barely noticed my puffy nipples now as I turned on the water and hopped into the shower. As I stood under the hot water, I shut my eyes and felt the same feeling just like yesterday morning. Only this morning it was more intense. I found my hands drifting to my chest again, rubbing my nipples. I fought back the urge to go down below but just barely. AS I was rubbing my nipples, I noticed something that I didn’t yesterday. All the hair on my arms and chest was gone. I didn’t have much on either but there was enough to notice. Ok, I actually only had a couple of chest hairs but I was a teenage boy growing into a man, so of course I noticed they were gone.
I should have been more concerned but for some reason I kind of liked it. I moved my hands to my arms, running my fingers up and down on my now hairless limb. It felt kind of good. The skin on my arm was a lot smoother than I remembered and my arm seemed thinner too. I didn’t have a lot of muscle to begin with but I had enough to know it was there. After all, I did help my father in the garage lifting heavy boxes and things. In school, I think I was able to bench press at least a hundred and fifty pounds. Now I bet I wouldn’t even be able to do one hundred. It was kind of freaky, but once again, I wasn’t too concerned about it.

I got out of the shower and took another pink towel from the closet. I didn’t even think twice about wrapping it around my body in a feminine manner. In fact, I grabbed another towel from the closet too. This one I used on my hair. It was dripping wet still. I thought about using Milagro’s blow dryer but figured it would make too much noise. It was bad enough that I actually used her shampoo to wash it. I didn’t even realize I did it until I was done and now my head smelled like Peaches and Cream. But it was actually kind of nice. Like grandma’s house. I smiled as I wrapped the second towel around my head; turban style like women did in shampoo commercials. I unlocked the bathroom door and quickly made my way back to my room.

In my bedroom, I went about looking for something to wear. I opened my drawers, rifling through them for something suitable. In the shower I decided there was no way I could go to church looking like I did. Which meant I’d have to lie and stay home but I had no other option. So my clothing choice was pretty simple: sweats. I found what I was looking for actually. It was a pair of gray sweat-pants and a long XX t-shirt. It’s what I usually wore to bed when it was colder out. I took both out of their drawers and tossed them on the bed. I opened my underwear drawer next and reached for a pair of boxers but stopped. They didn’t seem right for some reason. I fumbled about and found a lone pair of briefs. They were still left over from the transition. Most guys switch to boxers when they hit puberty. I started wearing them a couple of months ago, my mom having switched out most of my briefs for them. Apparently, she missed a pair.

I dropped the towel to the floor, leaving the one still wrapped around my head. Then I grabbed the briefs and slipped them on. They were a bit tight but they felt right. I moved about a little, trying to get a feel for them again. Then I picked up the sweats and slipped them on. They were a little baggy around my legs and in the crotch area but tight in the rear. I groaned, clearly I needed new sweats. When I put the shirt on I felt like I was swimming in it but that was nothing new, it was meant to be bigger. I got back into bed after that, making sure I took the towel off my hair and kept most of my new long tresses tucked underneath me so my mother wouldn’t see.

It didn’t take long for her to show up. She knocked before she entered. She was dressed in her fluffy pink bathroom, her hair in a towel turban too. She looked at me still laying in bed and frowned. She saw the wet towels on the floor and shook her head.

‘What’s wrong with you?” she asked gently, walking over and putting her hands on her hips.

I moaned; I hoped it was convincing. ‘I don’t feel too good.’

She bent and put her hand on my forehead. Why do Moms do that anyway, it’s not like you can tell by doing anything like that. She kept her hand there for a bit and then smiled. It was a sincere one and when she looked at me, it was with kind eyes. On any other day, something like this wouldn’t have flown with her, especially on a school day. But I liked church and I never made up excuses to skip it. So if I was sick on a church day then that meant there was no way I could be faking it.

‘You don’t feel like you have a fever but maybe it’s all that hard work you’ve been doing lately. I think it’s run you down. Why don’t you stay home for today and rest?’

I nodded. She bent forward and kissed me on the forehead. She gave me a strange look and my heart started beating faster. Please don’t let her notice anything different about me. Her lips lingered on my head for a second longer than I would have liked but she pulled away without saying anything. She looked at the towels on the floor again and bent to pick them both up. She gave me a look, probably thinking about why I had two of my sister’s pink towels. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she threw them over her arm and closed the door when she left. I heard her talking to Milagro in the hall and then a few seconds later I heard:

“How come he gets to stay home? That’s so unfair.”

Then my sister stomped down the hall. I smiled and decided to bide my time by counting the glow-in-the-dark stars I have on my ceiling. There’s five hundred and six in case you want to know. I counted each one when I put them up but I liked to count them sometimes to help me keep my mind off of things. I counted them, trying to focus on them and them alone. It usually takes about an hour to do so, this time it took a bit longer. But counting them had the desired effect. Because about an hour and half after starting, I heard my family file out of the house, get in the car and drive off. I sighed in relief, threw off my covers and sat up.

I knew there was no way that I could stay cooped up in this bed all day.

________________________________

I decided to go out but discovered a problem as soon as I tried to put some normal clothes on. First, no matter how many different shirts I put on, they kept rubbing against my chest and driving me insane. It was the most horrible feeling ever and only seemed to get worse every time I moved. I eventually had to settle for wearing two shirts, one of which was a thin undershirt that I hadn’t worn in ages. I had a different problem with my jeans. Like my sweatpants, they were loose in the crotch area and far too tight around my butt. When I got them up to my hips, I actually had some problems pulling them on. I had to lay on the bed to do so and zipping them up was a problem in a half. After that, it was pretty settled what today would entail. I needed to go shopping.

I wore a hoodie with the hood up to hide my new long hair and slipped out the side door so none of the neighbors would see me. I didn’t want to get ratted out after putting on such a convincing performance. I hopped on my bike and rode toward Paco’s house but didn’t stop. Like my family, his was very religious too. The same could be said for Brenda as well. But she didn’t go to our church anymore. Her aunt had some fancy one she went to in the city. It was this giant cathedral; a lot of rich people went there. I’d actually only seen it on TV or when we passed by it in the car on the way to Queen Tower. Brenda said maybe one day she could convince her aunt to allow Paco and I to go with her once.

There was no mall in the area where we lived. There was however a strip of shops that lined the streets on either side of it. The shops were a couple of blocks from my house. Brenda and Paco showed them to me the first week we moved in, making sure that I knew how to get to them. They were all lined in a row and seemed to be organized in no set pattern. There was a barbershop next to a comic shop and a clothing boutique next to an auto parts shop. My father spent a lot of time in the latter. My first stop was the barber of course; I needed to get rid of all this hair. It was already starting to freak me out. How can hair grow that fast?

I pulled up outside, locked my bike to the rack and slipped inside. There was a little dinging bell above the door. Mario’s was the only barber in the area; most of the rest were a few blocks over in a ritzier part of the neighborhood. I always went to Mario’s though. The shop kind of had this 1950’s feel to it, probably because Mario looked like he was still cutting hair then. In truth, he probably wasn’t much older than my father but there was something about his white outfit that harkened back to that day. He was brushing down one of the two chairs he had in the shop, humming to the Retro music that was playing in the background.

He turned and looked at me. “Good morning, miss. The beauty salon is a few doors down, you can’t miss it.”

I groaned. So my fears were right, I did look like a girl. “I’m not looking for the Beauty shop”

I walked over and jumped in the other chair, dropping my hood as I did so. Mario raised an eyebrow but walked over anyway. “You want me to cut your hair?”

I nodded. “Make it as boyish as possible.”

“Are you sure?”

I groaned. Why is that whenever a girl wanted to cut her hair everyone was so wary about doing it. I nodded my head and sighing; he took a pair of his scissors and began. He trimmed slowly at first but started to pick up pace. I closed my eyes and relaxed, sighing a bit. Maybe now I wouldn’t look so much like a girl. I started to wonder what I’d look like now; maybe shorter hair wouldn’t draw so much attention to everything. Everyone would see the short hair, still see Jaime and stop calling me miss. Well at least Mario wouldn’t mistake me for a girl if I walked into his shop again. That was a good thing, right?

It didn’t take him long to cut my hair. Maybe twenty minutes, which I think, is probably normal. When he was done, I felt him using his little brush to get the left over hair off my shoulders. “You can open your eyes and take a look, Principessa.”

I did and he spun the chair so that I was facing the large mirror mounted on the wall. What I saw sent shivers up my spine. It was short hair but it was anything but boyish. I think girls called it a pixie cut and though it definitely didn’t make me look as girlish, it still made me look like a girl. I groaned but seeing the big smile on Mario’s face, I smiled weakly back. I got up from the chair, defeated and asked him how much I owed him. Usually Mario liked to haggle but I got the cut for cheap, without bartering. I paid my ten bucks and left, dissatisfied. But there were other places I needed to shop and my hair was the least of my worries.

My next stop needed to be a clothing store. There was a really good one that Mom took me to all the time, it catered to my laid back style. I started heading in that direction, passing the boutique next to Mario’s. It was called Rachel’s, a lot of girls I knew shopped there, Brenda liked to shop there. It catered to a female crowd, mainly teenagers. I glanced at the window display and something caused me to stop. I’m not sure what but as I stared at the pink dress on the mannequin, my palms started sweating. It was strange but I kind of liked it. It was a light and airy looking thing and probably would look really nice with a good pair of shoes. I groaned, what the hell was I thinking?

I shook my head and pulled myself away from the window. I started walking away again but the urge came back. Then I heard it, there was a slight voice in my ear: “Go into the store... that would look lovely on us.”

I snapped around, expecting to see someone standing behind me. But there was no one there. I think I’m losing my mind. I shook it off and started to walk away again. But the urge came back and my hands started to shake. Then it was like my body had a mind of its own. I found myself walking toward the door. I reached for the handle to open it and forced myself to stop. My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands shaking like mad now. Then I heard the voice again, it was sounded so familiar but I couldn’t quite place it.

“Go into the shop. You want to try that dress on; I think it would look good on you.”

My hand acted on its own and grabbed the handle, pulling open the door. I struggled, but it was no use as I walked inside. I’d been in Rachel’s before; Brenda liked to drag Paco and me in here for some torture. It was the typical looking boutique with its pink color scheme and loads of clothes. There were changing rooms in the back and a counter in the corner. Behind the counter was a pleasant looking woman and when she saw me, she sprang right over. She was about my mother’s age, with a streak of gray through her black hair. She was dressed in a smart skirt and blouse and her high heels clacked on the floor as she came over. I looked around and groaned, I was the only one in the store.

“Good morning, sweetie, how can I help you?”

I opened my mouth to tell her that I came in here by mistake but that’s not what came out. Instead, when I spoke my voice wasn’t my own. It was light and girly. “I’m looking for a new wardrobe, the one I have now is so drab.”

Holy crap, who the hell just talked. I wanted to throw my hand to my mouth but I couldn’t.

“Relax, my dear,” said a stuffy voice in my head. “I’ll take it from here.”

It was then that I recognized the voice. It was the one from my dreams, the faceless British dude who had been messing with me for the last two nights. How was this even possible? Who are you and what do you want from me? I sent my thoughts out into my head but I got no response. Instead, I found my body walking by itself, following the woman as she led me over to the lingerie. It was as if I was working on autopilot while my body and this woman did all the work. Soon my arms were piled down with bras and panties. I screamed into my head and heard sinister laughter. I tried to fight it but it was too strong. My body then followed the woman over to some of the clothes racks. She started pulling tops off and handing them to me, guessing my size. My body took them and then asked about skirts.

“I have the perfect one for you,” said the woman as she walked off to get it.

“This isn’t funny anymore” I shot into my head.

“Relax,” said the voice “I’ve done this before. You and I are now one or we will be very soon. You are in good hands; I’ll make sure to take very good care of you.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of, I want my life back.”

The Voice laughed. “Your life belongs to me now.”

The hell it does. I screamed as loud as I could into my head. The Voice was laughing at me and then it stopped. It was abrupt but I shattered its control. My scream was so powerful that I lost control and stumbled forward, falling into a rack of clothes. There was a loud clatter and the woman came running, holding a couple of skirts in her hands. She gave me a look, glaring. I opened my mouth to explain but she pointed at the door. I smiled, glad that I wasn’t welcome here. I dropped my armful of clothes on the floor and marched out the door.

“That was a foolish thing to do,” said the Voice.

“Screw you.”

I started down the street, fed up with my little shopping expedition. I turned and headed back to the bike rack in front of Mario’s. My bike was still there. But it wasn’t alone. There were a couple of guys lingering around it, smoking and leaning against the rack. I sighed. This is all I needed, more jerks to mess with. I took a deep breath and marched over. It didn’t take long for the first one to turn and notice me. Two of them were black and the third was Hispanic. They were a couple of years older than me, dressed in the typical baggy pants, wife beater style. I hated guys like this; they always thought they were God’s gift to the world.

I approached with vigor, bound to not let these jerks get the better of me. As soon as I got near my bike, one of them stepped in my way.

“Hey mama” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You want to go to a party with me.’

“Get lost” I snapped, pissed that even with my new haircut these jackasses thought I was a girl.

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down my arm.

I shrugged him off. “I said get lost or I’ll scream rape.”

All three of them laughed. Unfortunately, there was a lot to be funny about. In my neighborhood, cops didn’t give a damn. They walked the streets and drove around but they weren’t very good peacekeepers. Posse and the fear of La Dama kept them away from doing their real duty. Instead, most police officers huddled about in donut shops and answered domestic disturbance calls. Crime was at an all time high now, even more so now that the Green Arrow was gone. Things were a bit different when she was patrolling the streets but like I mentioned before, she hadn’t been seen in months. So punks like these were rampant around these parts and there wasn’t a single thing that anyone could do about it.

“Don’t be like that,” said one of the other guys as he stepped off the bike rack, throwing his cigarette on the ground. ‘We got a little place a couple of blocks from here. You’d fit right in.”

He stepped up to me, he towered over me. His breath smelled of cigarettes and cheap liquor. He hung over me like a statue, smirking down at me. His buddy holding my arm slipped around behind me. I tried to watch him but that meant taking my eyes off the other two. Shit, this was so not, what I wanted right now. I bit my lip, trying to figure a way out of this. I could scream but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Maybe a Good Samaritan would come to my rescue but chances are these three bastards would just beat the hell out of me or possibly something much worse. I couldn’t let that happen, especially because these jackasses thought I was a girl. If they tried to rape me and discovered otherwise then I was definitely a dead man.

I panicked and tried to push my way past. But like I thought, they weren’t going to let me. The third one left his post on the rack and came over, wiping his hands on his shiny baldhead. I gulped, biting my lip. There was no out of this; I was screwed no matter what I did. Shit, why did I leave the house today?

The third one made his move. It was subtle. He pulled out a knife and went for my hoodie, slicing a nice big slit up the front. I opened my mouth to scream when a hand clamped over it, cutting off the attempt. The second guy grabbed my hoodie and tore it back, revealing my shirt underneath. The third guy came forward with his knife again, easily slicing through both my shirts. What I saw shocked the hell out of me. No wonder they thought I was a girl, I had breasts. They weren’t really big but they were there. My eyes widened as I stared at them. How in the hell was that possible?

“Check out the itty bitty Commando chick” the one with the knife, laughed. “Haven’t you ever heard of a bra, chica?”

I tried to struggle out of his friend’s grasp but it was no use.

The second guy went for my pants but the first one, the one holding me, stopped him. “Not here, Marcus” He pointed his head to the left. “Down there, there’s no witnesses.’

I looked where he was pointing. There was a narrow alley between Mario’s and Rachel’s. It wasn’t very big but it was big enough to do what these guys wanted to do. Oh God, please no. The guy holding me lifted me off the ground and carried me toward the alley. I kicked and struggled, trying to break free. The hand slipped from my mouth and I screamed. Just like I thought though, no one came to my rescue. They carried me to the alley, taking me as far back into it as possible. The guy holding me tossed me on the ground. It hurt like hell. I tried getting to my feet but I didn’t get very far. The one who threw me pushed me back down while the other, Marcus, bent down in front of me to undo my pants. I screamed again, as loud as I could. The third guy, the one with the knife, stood against the wall, watching the whole thing.

I kicked and fought. But it was no use; they were bigger and stronger than me.

“Stop her from wiggling,” said the one with the knife. “And shut her up.”

The one undoing my pants stopped and punched me in the face. My head snapped back, hitting the wall. A flood of pain exploded in my head. My vision started to blur but I fought it. I can’t pass out; I can’t let these bastards get the better of me.

“Are you ready for assistance?”

It was the Voice, I’d completely forgotten about it. “Yes, please, do something.”

“If I do this, there’s no going back?”

“I don’t care, stop these bastards.”

“You only had to ask.”

I lost control of my body. The pain in my head dulled somewhat but I stopped struggling. The guys thought it was me giving in and allowing them to have their fun. Somehow, I knew differently. Something happened, something I can’t explain. My body started to tingle and my skin felt like it had ants crawling inside of it. I screamed out into my head, freaked out at what I felt. I was freaked out even more at what I saw. My skin was changing, turning blue and hardened. At first, I thought it was my imagination but soon enough the blue started to spread. My skin felt like it was on fire now as the hardening blue started to cover my whole body. It moved quickly, tearing my clothes to shreds, covering me like some freaky jumpsuit.

The three guys jumped back, the one with the knife even going so far as to slamming into the far wall. The one holding me freaked out, dropping me. The one who had been undoing my pants was still sitting in front of me, staring at me like I’d just crawled out of the sewer or something.

The burning sensation rose up my neck and finally started to cover my head. As soon as it got over my face, everything changed. My vision blinked out and when it blinked back, everything was blue and sharper than before. The two thugs who jumped back stared with open mouths while the third crouched in front of me just stared. I raised my hands, flexing my fingers. My hands were covered in this black and blue armor-like substance. I had no idea what it was but it was kind of cool.

“Defensive battle armor engaged” said the Voice in my head.

“What the hell is this?”

“You asked for my help and now I have given it” said the Voice “I am of the Reach, we are to conquer.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That is to be expected, human,” said the Voice “just know that I am a great warrior of my people and that you and I are now one.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your body belongs to me now.”

I didn’t understand any of it but right now, I didn’t care. I looked at the guy crouched in front of me and something happened. His body seemed to go transparent and I saw all his insides. A display of some kind flashed before my eyes and a bunch of words started scrolling down it. At first, they were unreadable gibberish but then I started to understand. They were a list of his vitals, showing where he was weak and most prone to attack. This would have been so cool if I wasn’t so freaked out by it all. I had no idea what was going on and frankly, I didn’t give a damn.

“Who and What are you?”

“I am Khaji Da of the Reach, and We are One.”