The Witch’s Ichor

Several other mall goers mill about the parking lot. Ryker's shoulders feel a little chilly, and the fabric of his leggings feels too thin. His mother steps out of the car. She puts one of her coats on Ryker.

"Wear this. I don't want you exposing yourself so much." Ryker's mother insists.

"What? I was not exposing myself!" Ryker protests.

"Honey your tits are basically on full display with how tight that sweater is." Ryker's mother deadpans.

Ryker's eyebrows go up and his soft lips part in shock. He stares at his mother for several seconds. She gently closes his mouth by pushing up his jaw, and zips up the coat he's borrowing.

"Mom!" Ryker sputters.

Ryker's Mother doesn't reply. She guides Ryker by the hand. Ryker can feel heat suffusing his cheeks as he replays his mother's rude words in his head.

Did I really look that slutty?

~

The quiet din of the jazz music playing over the mall speakers helps calm Ryker down as his mother drags him into a department store. He twirls a lock of black hair around his finger nervously. His mother flags down a passing employee, and puts on her best smile.

"Excuse me, could you take my daughter's measurements? She's had a bit of a growth spurt." Ryker's mother fibs.

"Oh, of course! Right this way." The employee replies cheerily.

Ryker struggles not to smile at how being referred to as 'my daughter' makes him feel. The employee guides them into a back room where she takes out a tape measure and a little notepad.

"Go ahead and get undressed. I'm just going to get your band size, cup size, and a few measurements for your hips and such." The employee explains.

Ryker's lip quivers slightly. He takes a deep breath before pulling off his mother's coat. The employee is polite enough not to stare as Ryker pulls the sweater off over his head.

"That's good enough. Your leggings won't get in the way." She says reassuringly.

Ryker sighs in relief. He patiently follows the kind lady's instructions as she takes his measurements. The process is a bit intimate, yet Ryker doesn't find it exciting in the slightest.

"Thanks for the help!" Ryker's mother thanks.

"No problem!" The employee replies.

"T-Thank you." Ryker manages to eek out.

This earns him an amused smile from the employee. She leaves them to their shopping, and Ryker's mom takes charge. Five new bras go into the shopping basket.

"Mom, why are you getting so much?" Ryker asks.

"Well you need clothes, don't you? Can't go to school naked." Ryker's mother jokes.

"I am NOT going to school like this!" Ryker protests.

Ryker's mother places a few matching pairs of panties into the shopping basket before taking a moment to consider Ryker's words.

"Ryker, do you want to be a girl?" Ryker's mother asks carefully.

Ryker hesitates for half a second before shaking his head. Ryker's mother puts her fingertip to her lips. She squints at her son thoughtfully.

"Alright, then we'll need to go find that witch." She says seriously.

The image of that vile crone sitting behind the shop counter sends a shiver down Ryker's spine. He clutches his arms as if cold, and shakes his head.

"W-We can't. She'll curse or kill us!" He hisses.

"Honey, Esmarelda is not evil." Ryker's mother replies calmly.

"...You know her by name?" Ryker asks incredulously.

Some cute athletic shorts, a pair of sneakers, and a new couple V-neck tops wind up in the shopping basket. Ryker's mother turns to regard her son as they approach the cashier.

"She's been around for generations. She's like a force of nature. If she doesn't hold a grudge against you then she'll change you back to the way you were before." Ryker's mother explains.

Ryker purses his lips. The cashier scans the items, and Ryker's mother pays for them. Butterflies flutter around Ryker's tummy as his mother hands him the new clothing.

"Now go get changed, honey." Ryker's mother gently prods him.

Ryker makes his way into the changing room. The quiet din of the mall is muffled here. Ryker mulls over his mother's words while trying to get over Esmarelda's uncanny appearance.

Can I really get that witch to fix me?

A soft sigh escapes Ryker's lips as he removes his old clothing. The tight fit was getting uncomfortable. He turns to his new clothes, pulling out the undergarments.

First he pulls on the new panties. Ryker smiles at the comforting sensation wearing fresh underwear brings him. The bra is next. Apparently that sales girl was right, Ryker does need the support!

Ryker slips into the new V-neck top and loves the way it shows a little skin. He pulls on the shorts next. They're breezy, but great for running around. He sits down on the bench and pulls off his punk boots.

Ryker slips on the sneakers, and finds them more practical than his boots. He stands up, checking out his new look inn the mirror. A quiet giggles escapes his lips.

"You done in there?" Ryker's mother asks softly from outside.

Ryker glances at his feminine curves in the mirror. The line of his hips rounding out to meet his thighs. The soft heft of the weight on his chest. The lengthy dark hair framing his pretty face.

Why do I feel kind of sad?

Ryker pushes open the changing room door with a blank look on his face. His mother gives him a quick once over before smiling wide.

"You remind me of my younger self." She remarks softly.

An inexplicable knot of painful emotions writhes in Ryker's chest as his mother says those words. He feels like he's yearning for something he cannot have. He shakes his head, his dark long hair swishing.

The potion is messing with my head again.

~

Chilling winds sap the warmth from Ryker's clothes as he follows his mother into the forest. The full moon illuminates the forest, yet it is waning. Ryker zips up the top half of the jacket he's borrowing from his mother while glancing over his shoulder.

"Mom, are you sure this is safe?" Ryker asks cautiously.

Ryker is careful to plant his feet in the same places his mother steps. The thick leaf cover is hiding the path from view, and many tree roots lie in wait.

"Yes, I am. I've heard my fair share of first hand accounts about Esmarelda." Ryker's mother assures.

The cool wind isn't too bad once Ryker's blood is pumping. His legs are burning a little bit as he keeps up with his mother. The soft hooting of an owl in the trees makes Ryker flinch.

What if this is a mistake?

Doubts linger in Ryker's mind as he catches glimpses of purple light through the trees. Ryker's mother slows to a stop. She's watching the swaying purple lanterns. Ryker gets goosebumps just looking at the light.

Ryker's mom gently takes his hand. He lets his mother guide him carefully toward the witch's mysterious shop. Twigs snap underfoot. The eerie carved words on the side of the shop catch Ryker's attention just like they did the first time.

"Esmarelda's Emporium." Ryker reads aloud.

The creepy shop on wheels reminds Ryker of a pitcher plant; It lures you in with promises of magic, but all you get is a nasty curse. Ryker's mother calmly approaches the shop's door. She turns to her son with a confident smile.

"Shall we?" She asks.

Something in Ryker's chest pangs at his mother's question. There's a part of Ryker that wants to run away. To simply turn tail and run away from the witch's shop forever. Ryker bottles that part of himself up before it grows any stronger.

I have to do this.

He nods to his mother, and she opens the door to the emporium. Ryker follows her into the expansive interior. It's definitely bigger on the inside. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end at the sight before him.

There's no merchandise this time, nor any shelving. The entire space is one big empty floor with a counter sitting across from the door. Behind that counter sits a gnarled old being who was once human. She parts her brittle lips, and utters a warning.

"Turn back lest you perish,
Your ichor you must cherish."

The witch's presence feels far more dangerous than it did on Wednesday. Her words hang in the air like humming magical blades. Ryker knows she could kill him, yet he feels strangely calm.

"I want you to turn me back." Ryker says calmly.

The crooked witch raises both her thin twisted hands up in a casual gesture unbefitting a witch. The woman's eyes reflect Ryker's blank expression as she lets out another rasping rhyme. The rasping tone turns to powerful magically amplified words as she speaks them.

"This I cannot do,
The spell is all you."

Ryker frowns at her words. The magic she's talking about is out of his control, or at least that'd how he understands it. He can't live his life with the body this potion is forcing onto him. He balls his small fists. This witch has to change him back. She has to make him normal again.

"This stupid spell is ruining my life! That label said it would give me the ideal body, and instead it turned me into a freak!" Ryker shouts.

Ryker's mother gently grips his arm. She's looking at him with wide fearful eyes. The witch herself smiles a wide snaggle toothed smile. The unmistakable smell of rot wafts from her maw as she opens it. She lets out another whisper which quickly morphs into a booming chant.

"If this magic you wish to bring,
From within your heart you must sing."

Ryker's ears ring at the volume of the witch's words. This rhyme feels far stronger than the others. There's magic in the soundwaves that buffet Ryker, or at least that's how it feels. The gears of an unseen machine twist into motion as Ryker feels something pop inside himself. The crooked witch raises her gnarled finger. Ryker's mother is shouting something he can't hear.

Here it comes.

Strange magic flows around Ryker as the witch twirls her finger through the air in an incomprehensible pattern. She is conducting an unseen orchestra of witchcraft, and Ryker can feel his body changing in time to the nonexistent music.

I'm going back to how I was.

Salty wet tears flow down Ryker's cheeks. There's an unpleasant tugging sensation on his skin. It feels like some sort of monster is trying to claw its way out of his flesh, yet it doesn't hurt. His bones are molding like putty. His muscle is shifting like sand in an hourglass. Then it all stops.

Ryker falls to the ground like a broken doll.

"Honey?! Are you alright?" Ryker's mother voices her concern.

Ryker blinks away hot tears. The no longer full moon illuminates his distinctly masculine features. The beautiful night sky looks as flat as a painting to him. Ryker feels something is lost, but he can't possibly understand what. Ryker's attention turns to his mother.

"I-" Ryker starts, but stops upon hearing his voice.

It's so grating.

"...I'm fine, Mom." Ryker says.

Ryker's mother pulls him up by his hand. Her smaller hands are dwarfed by his larger ones. He has to look down to make eye contact with her now. She wears a gentle smile as she gently points to Ryker's clothing.

"We should get you changed..." She says gently.

The previously perfect top is now being stretched around his wider shoulders and masculine frame. The shorts he was wearing are so tight they'd function as underwear. The bra is completely destroyed. Ryker can imagine what happened to the panties.

Ryker's mother guides him back to the car by the moonlight. The sneakers feel far too small on his feet. They fit him poorly and squeeze his toes terribly. The quiet hooting of an owl falls on deaf ears. Ryker is not paying attention to his surroundings.

"I brought some of your old stuff." Ryker's mother reassures.

The car is within sight. Ryker's mother is quick to remotely unlock the vehicle. Ryker's blank stare flits to the neatly placed clothing. It's just one of his pairs of baggy jeans and a shirt. His hoodie is there, too.

"Thanks, Mom." Ryker says lifelessly.

Ryker's eyes avoid his bare body as he changes in the backseat. The articles of feminine clothing are peeled back one after another. It feels like he's a monster peeling back fake human skin to reveal his revolting interior. Ryker's mind latches on to that imagery as he finishes putting on his old clothing.

Like a monster.