Daylight: A Story in the Dark – Chapter 1
Written by castor :: [Monday, 16 September 2013 22:33] Last updated by :: [Friday, 08 November 2013 21:01]
Daylight: A Story In The Dark
(Special thanks to Dru for Editing, Loosly inspired by story by rook)
The darkness in the room was palatable. A veritable thing.
How long could her savings hold? Probably months, maybe even into the early years. She owned this condominium and had a lot of money in the bank, saved for a rainy day. Not having to go out, no fancy meals in restaurants, no fancy cars, with little need she supposed she could stay for quite a long time.
But she was thinking of money. Her mother, Juko, would never think of such things. It was not a woman’s place. Even after her daughter had graduated college with honors and got a prestigious research job, after her doctorate, all of it, she never thought of money. Let men handle if they handled it all it was a sullied thing. Her mother …
Keiko sighed. No matter how weird and improbable one’s circumstance, no matter how strange things fate gives you, it was hard not to think like your mother. What her mother would think of her now. Well, she could call her. But that wouldn't do. She would ask to visit her, or worse, invite her come over. She was probably quite worried.
But Keiko was worried. She looked at the curtains. The room was pitch black, black enough for the purposes. It was 11:00 AM by the clock.
She sighed softly. She wondered how long she had. It could be days before she came, or weeks, before she needed to come out. She wondered if it would be months. She thought of ‘her’ as a different her, like she was Jekyll and Hyde. Keiko knew however that this wasn't true. And by that logic, she was in a way Hyde right now, trying to keep her in. That she wasn't some great evil … but she was …
She had a good Netflix account, and had been surprised how many movies she had missed in college and life by being Little Miss Perfect. At around 8:00 she could go out, (well, really 7:00, but she didn't trust it) maybe get some groceries. Maybe get donuts. Despite the fact that she was now rail thin – almost skeletal lines, she didn't gain weight any more. It was part of the process really.
Her hair was only a couple of millimetres long, for that changed to baldness – it grew but it had never been more then a quarter of an inch since it happened. She had a short black wig she wore, when she was feeling vain, which wasn't now. She made the many accounts of her change in her body, recording them in the notebook. It made no real sense except in the way it stayed so thin. She ate, and ate, rarely went to the bathroom … and then it happen …
On her old work laptop … that she stole but no seemed to care … she had an E-Book. She often challenged herself by reading the driest, densest material on molecular biology she could, almost as proof against the change. To prove that she was still Keiko Yamata, a scientist; a person. She doubted she would ever be able to again, but she wanted. But even to her darkness covered brain the material was a tad dense. Even boring. Boring was a word she would use, so she redoubled her efforts.
Perhaps it had always been boring, but promise of utility kept it interesting in her head.
Of course, she could go out now. She should go out now. There was great evil in the world and *she* could stop it. Well, by evil maybe a fire, or mugger or something. She went to the TV and turn on the local news. They were talking about Christina Appelgate who was apparently getting divorced. Well that’c wasn't evil. Or at least anything she could do something about.
She slouched down. She was frightened, a coward, sitting here. Yes; she should go out. That was the right thing. But she wondered if she would always come back. *She* remembered everything, all her triumphs, all her weaknesses. Keiko remembered that she couldn't remember, but that didn't frighten *her*, she was a bravely stupid blonde.
Then her *smart* phone went off she went and checked it. It was a car chase tht had turned into a hostage situation at a church.
This could not be ignored. She sighed and raced to her closet and pulled out her costume. She wore it out of vanity, or separation. A thick body suit of gortex that looked like it could have been in a movie. It was designed to be skin-tight, but not on her. She liked it abstractly. The blue and red went well with her hair, the cape waved in the air. She knew that *she* loved it.
Then the feeling. It wasn't *the* feeling, but a feeling of the concept that death was approaching, though it wasn't the concept of loss or fear, just pure terror inside her that it would happen. The kind of sympathy pains when one knows a thing is unavoidable. In some ways it made it worse, for she was a coward.
And then she pulled back the curtains of the window.
Which perhaps made her brave.
And as the light of the sun hit her the pain was tremendous.
It was around 7:15 when she had enough consciousness to really be again. Keiko woke up, though she hadn't been sleeping.
She was in an apartment.
Just not her own.
She was also sitting on top of a guy, catching her breath.
"God" he said. She had the distinct sensation … yes he had just shot his load into her.
She rolled over to the bed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. It was acoustic tiles like in a school building. She didn't think she had seen it before in an apartment. It distracted her from the fact that he was holding her temporary breasts in his hands.
"My … "
"Yeah," said Keiko. "Hey, I need to get home. Where’s my costume?”
"I think it’s in the other room."
Keiko got out looking down. Her breasts where still large – E cups. She knew full size they toped out around an F, but they where shrinking now, and shrinking fast. She got up quickly.
"Hey! What’s going on?"
All of Keiko’s body was shrinking. Her muscles, the large bricks of her arms, her quads, even the flat 10 pack of her stomach, was receding into nude … nothing.
Well that was true
She went into the other room. And saw 4 more guys, and a girl. All looked to be either unconscious, or they might as well be. The girl – a pretty little thing – was on a couch, and had the distinct look of having a very long continuous orgasm, convulsing occasionally with little spurts of liquid. The guys all looked as if their vital fluid had had been drained.
"Get plenty of water tomorrow," she said absently. She shook her head, embarrassed.
It was a trick of the powers (well her power). She knew only abstractly what happened. She had saved the day – well probably saved the day, then went out and had sex – how, where, and whom, was a blur … then afterwards feeling happy she had gone and saved the day again (or did something dumb) and then had come here. She could get people who she wanted. She had the power to extrude a powerful musk that was a prime sexual attractor – she could smell it a little bit – well, a lot right now. It made the men crazy, not that being a 52-26-40 5'11 Asian knockout didn't.
Of course, sex with her was tricky. She was insatiable for as long as she existed. And she had a way to work her magic. Men could go 2 or 3 rounds with her – and when they where done, well, they weren't good for much else for the next couple of days. Some she knew ended up in hospital.
This was, on her part, consensual, but she felt the stick of her fluids, their sweat on her, and she couldn't help feel gang-raped just a tad. Just a tad.
She sighed, shaking her head. She found her costume. At least it was intact. Frequently it wasn't. Frequently enough she found it ripped to shreds. She reached into the pocket behind the cape and found her phone, her keys and a little money for the bus. She climbed into her costume. Her hair was falling out by now. That took a minute.
Her long blond, totally unnatural looking on an Asian woman, hair was falling out in long strands and dropping to the floor. No time to pick it up. Thick pubic hair was also shedding as she climbed into he clothes, which should at least help keep it in until she got back.
She wondered if she could take a shower. no better not.
and she left through the front door on a walk of shame.
Except most walks of shame weren't done by people in extremely baggy superhero suits that were now at least 5 sizes too large for her, who didn't have any superpowers. Just great.
In the comics superman can magically take off his costume and put on his suit when he was done. How did he carry it around?
The apartment building was at least in a largish complex which was a good place for the next part. She walked round the back to a large dumpster, and lifting it up looked in. Garbage, old cans, nothing too smelly this time … and
It was an old college sweater that was filthy. University of Colorado would not be pleased by the holes and the stains of things that Keiko didn't want to think of.
Still it wasn't bad for a man’s sweater. It was bulky, but at least less conspicuous. She put it on.
She took a paper bag from a sephora (which at least was in good condition) and put her cape and gloves in. She looked for pants if she could find some. Old shorts … they would …
No, they just fell off her. Sigh. Her long c-pants legs would do … as the last of her golden hair fell out leaving her bald.
This was an odd sight. She looked like a homeless person, which was okay as people ignored them.
She left the complex quietly – she didn't jump over fences or walls, just walked out like a normal person, which for all practical purposes she was.
She got out her smartphone and looked at a map of the area. Not bad. She was maybe 5 miles from her home in north Atlanta. She often found herself further afield. Hell, she once found herself in Chattanooga (at least there had been the excuse that there had been a train derailment there). Yes, there had been men. But it wasn't like she was in a high school, like one time. Or the time she was in a women’s prison …
It had been better – hell, maybe once a month she actually came home at night like a good girl. And maybe half the time she was on street or a building with no dog piles. But she had become slightly immune to it all. The constant sex she was having with people, while never actually having sex.
She found a bus stop. At first she had taken taxis home, but realized they were too expensive to keep up, and not that much faster. She waited.
A guy gave her a curious look.
"Are you okay?"
She looked at him. At 300 pounds, wearing a T-shirt too small for him, he shouldn’t ask that question. "No, but it isn't your business."
She took out her smartphone and played a stupid internet game until the bus came. She only had to take one bus tonight, which was good. Atlanta buses were very slow at night.
She then walked towards the door to the building. The doorman ignored her as she walked into an elevator, and sighed. Only at the last minute someone came in.
It was Alberto.
Alberto was a pleasant Hispanic man. She remembered seeing him around a bit before it had all started. He was tallish, and good looking … in a slightly plump way. He looked the kind of man who had been handsome in his youth – which wasn't quite gone in his early thirties. She remembered something had happened to him too. She paused, thinking.
"Hey! Haven't seen you around," said Alberto.
Alberto was her next-door neighbour, and shared a common wall. What was it that happened to him? She tried to remember …
"Thought you might have sold the place," said Alberto. "But then, I never saw the people here before you at all."
Keiko sighed and shook her head.
"Hey … what’s wrong with your hair?" asked Alberto.
Actually, the more correct question would be: where was her hair?
"Oh, it’s nothing." said Keiko. She sounded incredibly lame, but …
"You don’t have..?"
"It’s nothing, I don't want to talk about it," Keiko told him. "Nothing at all"
And the door opened, like a charm for once, and she walked briskly to her apartment. That was one good method of dealing with a secret identity. Just be mean, and kind of rude to people who ask you about it.
She sighed as she went back into her apartment. She had been a little rude. But ahh. Alberto was a nice guy … and …
His wife had died. How? She couldn't remember that … but she had died. Wow. That had to be awful. Keiko sighed.
Now she could have the bath she wanted, stroking her breasts … such as they now were, her skeletal legs with no hair. If you looked at her naked you would think she may not be quite human, not an alien – but well, if they were casting elves or pixies in a movie she should audition. Hell, she could play Gollum if Andy Sirkis wasn't available.
She got dressed afterwards, wearing a skirt and blouse that made her look at least human. This with her black wig, she looked like a fairly normal Japenese woman. She had just been out but now she looked halfway decent and she did need to go shopping. She remembered she had promised herself a donut. But now she didn't want one. That was the shame about early morning promises.
The grocery store wasn't crowded. She got herself some grocery store fried chicken and potatoes, as her fatty meal of choice, and walked home. The bag wasn't all that heavy. She could have gotten a cart of something, but didn't. She actually went shopping more often then she needed to. It was, after all, the only way she had to go out, really. She liked, she could admit, looking at the happy people, the stoned people … just people.
She went home. The elevator was empty … she shook her head.
And then walked out.
"Hey," said Alberto, "I thought you had … ”
"It’s a wig," said Keiko.
"Why do you..?"
"Sometimes I care; Sometimes I don't. It’s a vanity thing," explained Keiko as she went to her door.
"Let me help you hold that while you … " began Alberto.
"No thank you," Keiko cut him off as she managed to open the door.
She realized that he was looking at her. At her thin arms, her form. She closed the door.
Keiko sighed and went to bed.
She rarely actually slept any more. It seemed the only time she needed to was when she stayed human (though that may not be the right word) for more then 24 hours or so. Which was a rare these days. She didn't even feel particularly tired. She had wondered if she wasn't quite human now … though she knew she wasn't any stronger or faster, but maybe she had a little more stamina,when she wasn’t *her*. But sometimes, Keiko felt very weak.
She thought about what happened when they had injected her with the chemicals back at the lab, back when she had C-cup breasts and an ass. Back when she was pretty, and men liked her. Back in the good old days …
It had been her idea. And in her darkest moments no accident. She thought it would do something …
Captain Masque had been a hero from the 40’s. His origin and his past were mysterious. But, like a moon rock, the government had managed to get a bit of his DNA, back before his equally mysterious disappearance. The classified information was very vague on these points. Incredibly so, to a degree. But it had happened.
It was human DNA … but different. She had spent years trying to sequence it, but found little if anything that revealed the secret of Captain Masque’s abilities. The government was just interested in that. They weren't expecting an army of super-soldiers. Just interested. But she wanted more.
Then she had read a highly classified paper regarding someone doing research with werewolves (which, yes, really existed) and …
Nothing had happened initially. She had thought she would transform in a few minutes. That’s apparently how it worked with werewolves. The government didn't know what she was doing. But you know what they say: Asking forgiveness is sometimes easier then seeking permission …
She wanted to be Daylight.
Well … be careful what you wish for.
The first night she woke up in a forest. After the experiment had done nothing she had gone out to get some air. Then … trees, and mists, and …
She was nothing. All body fat had left her body, as had most of her muscle mass. She was a weak little creature alone in the big woods.
She would have been afraid of wolves … but well, this was the south. There ain't any.
She had been very cold, and probably almost died from exposure. She had found a small stream to drink from as she was very thirsty she remembered. She found a kind of bush to sleep in.
And then woke up back in her apartment.
It took her about a week to figure out what had happened. A mysterious figure was exploring the city by day, undertaking random acts of good. Also probably sleeping with people, but that took a while to discover as no-one ever reported that.
Of course, she could no longer go to work. She had tried, but well …
It was the light
While werewolves only transform in the moonlight, sunlight is what did it for Keiko. Perhaps, she theorized, it was the sunlight that did it for werewolves too, like somehow they acted as batteries. Maybe the man-form was the superbeing. In any case sunlight it was. Whenever she went under light she felt it … the pain and then …
No memory. None at all. Flashes, ideas … concepts. Occasionally thoughts and fears, but no clear images … no vivid memories of any of it. She became Daylight, and didn't remember a thing. A big Asian Barbie superhero, and she couldn't feel it.
She only learned about her alter ego by reading the newspapers. Daylight could fly (though not all that fast), run fast (maybe 500 miles an hour), and could lift about 100 tons. Daylight was bulletproof, bomb proof and, generally just-about-anything proof. She was big … strong.
Daylight also seemed to be the mental equivalent of a helpful 8 year old. She could talk and be pleasant, but she was really, really, dumb. And she seemed to remember, at least know who she was. She acted a lot like a kid reading a comicbook. She had to protect her secret identity as a boring old scientist! Help the people! Rescue kitties from the tree! It was really childish. But daylight was very mature in one regard. She was incredibly and insatiably horny, and could emit a pheromone that was so irresistibly powerful she attracted anyone she desired And she desired it a lot. After all, she was a helpful hero. She deserved good things.
The press ignored this last part, but she couldn't help see the occasional inappropriate smile worn by the people she rescued in the papers. Big smiles.
Such big smiles. Keiko frowned.
And when darkness came, either through nightfall or 30 or so minutes inside a room with no windows, Keiko returned …
The chicken dinner that had been the reward sat on the counter and grew cold.
And so she went out again the next morning, fairly early for her. She was still depressed from last night and needed release. And besides …
She woke up on top of a giant medical table. Her body was splayed on table, nude. Her arms and legs were spreadeagle, and giant bands were clamped on her wrists and ankles.
This wasn't good.
However, she also realized the bands, while they looked to be made of solid steel (more likely something far more solid), were quite loose on her new thinning wrists. As her body lost about 4 inches of height, her little hands slipped through the rings quite easily.
She sat up on the table and looked around. On the floor looked to be something of a mad scientist … who was clearly suffering from sudden-and-too-many-orgasms syndrome.
She sighed and shook her head. And her feet. She didn't quite know. They’re more awkward to get out of, large metal straps. However, with some effort she did.
Keiko got off the table …
Only to hear a loud ringing noise as she stepped on the floor. It was an alarm, a very loud and insistent alarm
"Fuck," She said
The piercing drew a small murmur from the man on the floor, as the door opened.
They were robots. Surprisingly advanced robots. They each had four legs, and a very long head with a deeply red eye … and a machine gun on their back.
Keiko dived behind the counter. The robot was shooting her. Well not really, she supposed she was a superhero. People where shooting at her. It was extremely loud.
The guns were shooting but the scientist was still around. And out cold. Clever security system.
She waited a moment, and the guns stopped shooting.
Keiko jumped out behind the scientist.
She expected, as she jumped, to hear lots of gunfire … a kind of dive of fire through a hail of bullets. But no.
She crouched a bit, no more guns.
Keiko helped the scientist up a little, as she got up she realized that the lab coat he was wearing was the only thing he was wearing, and she shook her head.
The gun-bots moved about, all angry red eyes glaring at her. She needed to get out of here. Her eye caught something. A surprisingly old fashioned and cheap looking clock. Hands and everything. 12:30. Good.
She walked towards the door. She didn't really notice the alarm was still going, but it was, until she got under it and truly felt the blaring. The robot was still guarding the door … but as she got towards it with the scientist, it started to move away. She turned her back away from it a bit, moving towards the wall. A fair amount of her body was showing, enough for a good sniper to shoot her, but she suspected they hadn't been programmed well enough for that. She pulled the door and went into the next room…
And felt light.
And for the first time in a while she realized just how good it felt …
That evening she woke up in a public park. It took her about an hour to get home. She didn't see her costume back in the laboratory, but apparently had found it. Which was good. She wasn't, in the scheme of things, felling bad. She bought a paper, hopping to read about her day, only to realize that it was a morning paper. Oh well … it was still nice to have a paper to read on the bus. She had even managed to scrounge together a full outfit that wasn’t the worst in the world.
When she got home though, she found a note on the door.
"Sorry about last night. I know it must be tough for you, very tough. But I can imagine. I spent 14 months watching my wife die, watching her suffer every day from cancer. I have some stuff I could give you if you want it – it does me no good any more. The pain hurts still, and will hurt always, but that is not your fault. I get that you want to be alone, and that is an understand arable, but if you need me or want help I’m next-door. This may seem stupid – this may seem sacrin, this may seem whatever, but even if this makes you feel angry, know that it is well intentioned. -Alberto"
Keiko closed her eyes. Oh fuck.