Were-Bi (2K words)

Hello pookies!!! I'm still working on Backup Girl Ch. 3 but it's gonna be a little while. To tide you over, I dug up another old story. This one is super duper dumb and requires a familiarity with 2020-era bisexual stereotypes. It also contains some cryptic crossword clues, post the answers in the comments if you can figure them out!

"Ooh," said Nance.

I looked up from my crossword, "What's up?"

Nance was staring intently at her phone. She was sitting up straight, as prim and proper as always.

"I just matched with a really hot guy," she said, "Like… weirdly attractive."

"I’m not surprised,” I said, “You’re gorgeous.”

Nance screwed up her nose, "No, Luna, my body is disgusting. But this guy… wow."

I put my pen down, “Show me?”

Nance held her phone up, revealing a man with longish, messy hair and a septum piercing, wearing a hawaiian shirt, high-waisted jeans and a knowing smile. According to his profile, his name was Harry.

I felt a little nervous. I was a very private person, and I had lost contact with a lot of people from my old life, so Nance was one of my very few close friends. I hoped this guy wouldn’t end up getting between us. 

“Wow,” I said, “Yeah. Hot.”

“Right?” she said, “And it’s so rare to find a straight guy who actually dresses nice.”

“Are you sure he’s straight?” I asked, “Huge bisexual energy, to be honest.”

“What?” said Nance, “No way. What? He’s straight. Why would a bisexual person be into me?”

“Because… that’s how bisexuals work?” I said. I pointed at the screen, “Look, he says right there his favourite animal is frogs.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s bisexual!” Nance protested, “He’s normal, alright! If he was bisexual he would say so on his profile! Look!”

She showed me another picture. In it, the guy was wearing an Eels jersey and cargo shorts, holding a VB.

“See?” she said, “All the rest of his photos are like this. He’s straight. Like us.”

“Then why does he look so bi in that one photo?” I asked.

Nance scowled, “I don’t know. Maybe he just looks bi sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“I don’t know, Luna! Stop being weird about it!”

I shrugged and returned to my crossword. 

Means through which we first present a follower and your leader. (7)

I filled it in.

[ANSWER 1]

...

The door creaked open and Nance peeked through. She was carrying her heels, padding surreptitiously into the apartment in her stocking feet.

"Good date?" I asked.

Nance raised a hand in greeting. 

"Hi," she said, "I thought you'd be asleep."

"Still trying to solve this crossword," I glanced down at the clue I was working on.

Pursued Attila and a bear. (6)

I scribbled down the answer and set it aside.

[ANSWER 2]

"So, what’s Harry like?" I asked.

Nance beamed, "Really nice. And so chill. Way less aggressive than most guys. Kind of a feminine energy, but in a hot way?"

I raised an eyebrow, "So, did you..."

"No!" Nance blushed, "We just talked. He wasn't pushy about sex at all. Which puts a hole in your stupid theory, by the way."

“What, because he isn’t promiscuous?” I said, “That’s a myth, Nance. He could still be bisexual.”

“He’s not,” Nance snapped.

“So defensive,” I said, "Are you gonna see him again?"

Nance smiled, "On Friday night."

...

It stormed on Friday night.  I passed Nance in the stairwell as I was coming home from work. She had an umbrella clasped tightly in hand, and wore a long coat over a very short dress. 

"You're still going?" I asked, raising my voice over the crashing rain.

"It'll be fun!" she said, "He's... really fun!"

I shook my head. Nance waved a hasty farewell before she hurried out the door and disappeared in a boom of thunder.

She didn't return that night.

I stayed up for hours, sitting by the window and working on another crossword by the light of the moon. Outside, rain thrashed against the rooftops, and the wind howled with a fury. 

I messaged Nance at midnight to make sure she was okay, and her only reply was “yes!”

Something still felt wrong, but I tried to shrug it off. I looked back at my crossword. 

Heavenly body and complete ass. (4, 4)

An easy one.

[ANSWER 3]

Nance got home at noon the following day. She looked like a wreck. Her tights were torn, and her hair was a mess. She pointed at me when she came through the door.

"Heyyyy," she giggled, "There she is."

"What happened?" I asked. 

"Nothing!" she protested, "We hung out!"

She leant forward to put down her purse, and I saw it. A red mark, just below her collarbone.

I leapt to my feet, "What is that?"

Nance covered herself, "Nothing! It's nothing!"

"It looked like a bite mark," I said.

Nance rolled her eyes, "It’s a hickey, alright? Don't be so dramatic."

"You slept with him?" I asked. 

"No!" Nance said, but she couldn't hold her offended look for long before bursting into a fit of giggles, "Okay, I did. We just really connected. Like on a deeper level than most guys."

I gave her a worried look, "This isn't like you, Nance."

"Don’t worry," she said, "It was just one night."

"Alright," I said reluctantly, "You're sure you're okay?"

Nance gave me a thumbs up.

...

Nance didn't talk much about the guy after that. I assumed she had brushed him off as a one night stand.

But over the next couple of weeks, I began to notice her behaving strangely. Sometimes she came home very late, and wouldn't tell me where she'd been. Sometimes she would burst into laughter at something on her phone, and then refuse to show me. And there were other, stranger things. 

She was giving thumbs up more and more often. Her usually elegant sitting posture was degrading, and occasionally I would notice one of her feet or even both, creeping up onto her chair. 

It shouldn’t have bothered me, but I couldn’t shake the sense that something was changing. Something that Nance refused to tell me about. I didn’t like it. It made me feel vulnerable.

One afternoon, I was pacing the apartment, trying to figure out another clue.

Promise Thomas edited Franz’s tale. (13)

I eventually worked it out.

[ANSWER 4]

On the way back to the kitchen, I passed Nance's room and saw her standing in front of the mirror, fiddling with her belt. I stopped by the door to see what she was doing. 

Nance unbuckled her belt, but she didn't take it off. For a second, her hands hovered over her waistline, fingertips gently running along the hem of her shirt. Then, before my very eyes, she pulled out the waist of her jeans and began to tuck her shirt in.

I cleared my throat. Nance jumped and spun around, frantically tugging her shirt out again.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Nothing!" she said, "I just... wanted to look a bit more formal!"

She stepped behind her laundry basket.

"Hmm," I said, "Formal in a t-shirt and jeans?" 

Nance gave me two thumbs up. I realised that she was doing something with her feet, like she was scratching her ankles with her toes. 

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" I asked. 

"I can't help it!" she said, "He's just... different, somehow. It's like he's..."

"Bisexual," I finished.

Nance flushed, "We’re not. I mean, he’s not."

I narrowed my eyes, "Are you saying that you might be—"

"No!" Nance burst out, "No way. I'm straight. One hundred percent."

"Show me the end of your pants leg," I said.

Nance stepped out from behind the laundry basket. 

Her jeans were as straight as she was, from her waist right down to her ankles.  But I couldn’t help thinking the cuffs looked the slightest bit creased. 

...

Despite Nance’s protestations, it seemed like her new partner was beginning to influence her.

She had started shooting finger guns instead of waving hello. She was tucking her shirts in, almost brazenly now, and rolling up the sleeves as well. When she cut her hair into a bob, I convinced myself it was just a phase. But then she got a septum piercing too. 

I felt like I was going insane. Was I just reading into things that didn’t mean anything? Was Nance hiding something from me? If so, why?

I found a flannel shirt in the washing basket. Nance swore it wasn't hers, but I knew it wasn't mine either. I threw it in the trash in front of her and saw her wince. 

She was lying to me. I knew it. And if she was lying to me, she didn’t trust me. Which meant maybe she knew my secret. Maybe she was waiting to attack me.

In desperation, I made her sit down with me and watch The Notebook, the straightest movie I could think of. 

"Look at Ryan Gosling," I demanded, "Isn't he hot? He built that house."

"Yeah," Nance sighed dreamily, "He's gorgeous." 

I nodded to myself. Nance was as straight as ever. Which meant she wasn’t lying to me. Which meant I was safe.

"God, Rachel McAdams is so pretty," she murmured.

I looked over at her in a panic. A minute ago, Nance had been sitting in the armchair across from me. She was still there, but her position now was a cruel mockery of what a sane person would define as sitting.

Her feet were not on the floor. Not even close. Instead, to my shock, I realised the lowest part of her body was her head, hanging grotesquely over the edge of the seat. Her body was contorted above her, legs akimbo, as if some vicious giant had tossed her onto the chair like a ragdoll. One foot hung over the back of the chair, while the other jutted out towards me over one of the arms, taunting. She radiated pure chaotic energy.

Her pants, I noted with a sickening dread, were cuffed. 

"You're bisexual," I whispered.

Nance bolted upright, "No I'm not! I'm dating a man!"

"You can be in a seemingly heterosexual relationship and still be bisexual!" I yelled. 

"We're both straight!" Nance stood up. I scrambled off the couch and backed towards the door, "We're a straight couple, Luna. Like Jake and Amy from Brooklyn 99. Or Leslie and Ben from Parks and Rec." 

As I backed away  my foot slipped on something and I fell to the floor.

"Both of those couples have strong bi energy!" I shrieked in terror.

Through my tears, I realised what I had stepped on. It was the flannel shirt I had thrown away earlier. I tried to get back to my feet, but the flannel was tangled around my ankles. I tried to pull it off, but the fabric was gripping tightly, attached like velcro to the bottom of my pants.

Nance shook her head, "You should have cuffed your jeans."

"No!" I screamed. I turned and crawled desperately for the door, but as I reached for the handle, it opened. 

It was Harry. He had changed his hairstyle since he took that tinder photo. He now had a messy mullet and a moustache.

"Hi, Luna," he smiled, "I've got a song I think you should listen to."

He held up his phone, and hit play. Instantly, the sound of drums filled the air, and the scratchy sound of a man's voice. 

"All I am... is a man... I want the world... in my hands..."

I thrashed on the ground desperately, trying to reach the phone. Harry grinned at Nance.

"We don't have to pretend anymore, baby," he said, "Throw off that disgusting monosexual disguise."

"Thank god," Nance laughed, "Of course, there's nothing wrong with not being bisexual—"

"Of course," Harry agreed wokely.

"—but we are, and soon, Luna will be too!" 

Nance and Harry threw back their heads in laughter. Nance crossed to the window and threw open the curtains, letting in the blinding pale light of the full moon. The two of them turned to me and I realised that somehow, impossibly, they were changing. The cuffs on their jeans rose higher and higher. Their septum piercings expanded. Above their eyes, blended maroon, purple and blue eyeshadow began to materialise. 

And they were getting... hairier?

And bigger? 

And growing claws?

"To clarify," Harry growled, "As well as being bisexual, we're also werewolves."

"That's right!" Nance snarled, "You were correct about the bite mark! Harry helped me confront my own internalised biphobia, but he also totally did bite me and turn me into a lycanthrope!"

I screamed, desperately clawing at my plaid shackles.

"And now we will do the same to you!" said Nance. Her and Harry leapt forward, pinning me to the ground. Nance leant towards me, opening her mouth to reveal vicious lupine teeth.

I was cornered, trapped, and totally helpless. There was only one thing I could do.

I disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

Before Nance and Harry could react, I rematerialised behind them, extended my own slender fangs, and bit each of them in the neck. They fell to the ground in shock. I collapsed into a kitchen chair. I would have been breathing heavily... if I ever needed to breathe. 

I watched as the mystical venom from my bite coursed through Nance and Harry's bodies, infecting them with my curse. My gift. Changing their bodies, and causing them to confront their repressed feelings about gender.

"I think... I think maybe my negative feelings about my body aren't just the typical body image issues forced on women by a patriarchal society," Nance whimpered, "I think even if I had a quote-unquote flawless female body, I would still feel the same discomfort."

"I just realised that I don't actually have a crossdressing fetish," Harry groaned, "I'm not attracted to the taboo of breaking gender roles, I genuinely feel more comfortable being perceived as feminine."

"I want to suck blood," Nance added. Harry gave a pained thumbs up in agreement. 

Dimly, I realised that I had left a newspaper open on the table next to me. My eyes fell to a clue in the cryptic crossword section.

Wild rant before a tower to occur. (9)

I reached out and filled in the word.

[ANSWER 5]

...

I told you it was dumb! I hope you enjoyed it anyway! ;p

Anyway yeah! BUG Ch. 3 is on the way! It's at 5.5K words now and probably will be 6.5K in the end. And quality wise it's also good, I think.

I wanna keep youse all updated with my progress but I'm sure nobody wants a bunch of Patreon updates with no content just saying "Hey still working on it!" so I'm wondering if maybe I should make a Discord? I can post updates on story progress, and you can make suggestions, share story recommendations from other authors, and form polycules with each other. idk just an idea! I'm running out of old stories to post haha

Also lmk if you figure out those cryptic crossword clues! I'm a The Riddler at heart <3