▪︎ Prologue ▪︎ “It wasn’t just me.”
───
She woke with a small start.
For a few moments, she simply lay there, staring at the ceiling as her thoughts slowly caught up with the fact she was awake. Something felt... odd.
She couldn't have explained why, only that a faint sense of confusion lingered in the back of her mind.
Frowning, she rolled onto her side and looked toward the digital alarm clock resting on the bedside table.
9:08.
Her eyes widened.
"...Nine."
The drowsiness vanished immediately.
She'd overslept.
That alone was strange enough. She remembered yesterday perfectly. Work had been uneventful, she'd come home, made herself something to eat, watched videos until she started getting tired, climbed into bed, and fallen asleep like normal.
So why had she slept until nine?
She pushed herself upright—
Something caught.
Her head jerked back ever so slightly, stopping her halfway through sitting up.
She blinked, remaining perfectly still for a second before slowly looking down.
Resting beneath one of her hands was an enormous pool of golden hair.
She stared at it blankly.
The strands shimmered softly in the morning light spilling through the curtains, far too long to belong anywhere in her apartment.
"..."
She carefully lifted her hand.
The hair rose with it.
Her brows drew together.
For another second she simply watched it, as though expecting it to separate at any moment.
It didn't.
Slowly, almost cautiously, she reached up with her free hand and touched the top of her head.
Her fingers disappeared into the same impossibly soft strands.
Silence.
She drew a section of hair over one shoulder.
It slid effortlessly across the black fabric covering her chest, stopping well past her waist.
Still attached.
She stared.
"...What?"
The unfamiliar voice froze her.
Every muscle in her body stopped moving.
That...
Wasn't her voice.
Her breathing caught as she listened to the lingering sound echo faintly through the room.
It was soft.
Clear.
Undeniably feminine.
She instinctively brought a hand to her throat before looking down.
Black fabric covered her lap.
Layers of an unfamiliar dress spilled neatly over her legs, elegant without being cumbersome.
Her gaze drifted lower.
Small hands rested against the dark cloth.
Slender fingers.
Delicate wrists.
Flawless warm brown skin that looked almost unreal in the morning light.
She slowly turned one hand over before brushing her thumb across the back of it.
Smooth.
Not simply healthy.
Perfect.
Her eyes continued downward.
The dress rested naturally over a body that was unmistakably feminine, gentle curves visible even through the layers of black fabric.
She simply stared.
A bird chirped outside.
Then another.
Someone laughed.
A door closed somewhere above her apartment.
Footsteps crossed the floor overhead while another pair echoed somewhere below.
Water rushed through pipes inside the walls.
Voices drifted faintly through the building, some close enough to almost make out, others farther away, fading into a soft murmur.
Then...
Heartbeats.
Several of them.
Separate.
Distinct.
Some nearer.
Others farther away.
Her head slowly turned toward one wall.
Another heartbeat.
Toward the opposite side.
More voices.
Another set of footsteps.
She wasn't consciously working any of it out.
She simply... knew.
Every sound seemed to arrive already arranged inside her mind, each occupying its own place without effort.
She slid carefully off the bed, bare feet meeting the wooden floor.
The windows remained firmly shut.
The bedroom light wasn't on.
Yet everything around her was astonishingly clear.
She could see the faint texture beneath the paint on the walls.
Tiny raised ridges that she'd never noticed before stretched across the room, catching the sunlight just enough to cast impossibly delicate shadows.
Even the ceiling wasn't perfectly smooth, its subtle imperfections standing out with remarkable clarity.
She slowly looked around the bedroom she'd lived in for years.
It hadn't changed.
She had.
Her eyes lingered on her own reflection in the dark television screen across the room, too distant to make out more than a silhouette.
Golden hair.
A black dress.
A figure that unquestionably wasn't the one she'd fallen asleep in.
"..."
She swallowed.
Then, almost under her breath, she asked the only question that came to mind.
"...What happened to me?"
She remained sitting for another few seconds, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the bedroom as if expecting it to explain itself.
It didn't.
The room was exactly as she'd left it yesterday.
The bed.
The wardrobe.
The television.
The chair in the corner with yesterday's jacket draped over it.
Everything was familiar.
Everything except her.
"...Right."
Her voice still caught her off guard.
Not enough to frighten her anymore, but enough that she instinctively paused every time she heard it.
It was strange hearing someone else's voice answer her thoughts, even when she knew perfectly well it was her own.
Her gaze drifted downward again.
"...This is... definitely real."
Confusion still sat stubbornly at the front of her mind.
Yet beneath it...
Something else.
Excitement.
She wasn't sure why.
Perhaps she should have been panicking.
Perhaps she should have been questioning reality or calling someone.
Instead...
She was curious.
Slowly, she stepped away from the bed.
Her foot met the floor with a soft tap.
She blinked.
Black boots.
Calf-high and fitted neatly around her legs, they looked as though they'd been made specifically for her, every bit as immaculate as the dress she wore. She lifted one foot, turning it slightly before setting it back down again.
"...These are nice."
Taking another step, she immediately hesitated.
"...Oh."
Everything looked...
Lower.
Not dramatically.
Just enough that it was obvious.
The bedroom felt larger than she remembered, the wardrobe just a little taller, the doorframe just a little farther above her head.
She frowned thoughtfully.
"...I'm shorter."
It wasn't a complaint, not really.
Just another observation to add to the steadily growing pile of impossible things.
She reached up and poked her own cheek.
Soft.
Warm.
It gave beneath her fingertip before springing gently back into place.
Then she poked her forearm.
"..."
Soft there too.
She rubbed her arm absentmindedly as she walked toward the bedroom door.
The skin beneath her fingertips was almost unnaturally smooth.
No roughness.
No blemishes.
Nothing.
She paused only long enough to wrap one hand around the door handle before opening it.
The familiar hallway greeted her.
Nothing had changed.
Well...
Nothing except the woman walking through it.
She quietly made her way toward the bathroom, her long hair swaying behind her with every step.
It brushed softly against the backs of her legs in a way that felt surprisingly natural despite the fact it absolutely shouldn't.
"...Still weird."
She couldn't help smiling.
The bathroom door clicked softly shut behind her.
For the first time since waking up...
She looked into the mirror.
Silence.
The woman staring back at her was breathtaking.
Long golden hair cascaded well past her waist in impossibly smooth waves, framing a face that seemed almost too perfect to belong to a real person.
Thick lashes framed brilliant crimson eyes that held no visible pupils at all, only rich, luminous red from edge to edge.
Her ears tapered gently into elegant points that emerged through the curtain of golden hair without looking out of place.
She stared.
"...Wow."
She took a small step closer.
The woman in the mirror did the same.
Flawless warm brown skin caught the morning light filtering through the frosted bathroom window, almost seeming to glow beneath it. She searched instinctively for something...
Anything.
A blemish.
A scar.
A freckle.
Nothing.
Until...
Her eyes lowered.
Just above her right breast, revealed by the neckline of her black gothic dress, rested a tiny dark mole.
She smiled.
"There you are."
For some reason, the tiny imperfection made her look even more real.
Her hand slowly ran down her opposite arm.
The skin felt every bit as smooth as it looked.
She traced her fingertips down her waist, feeling the gentle curve beneath the dress before turning slightly to one side.
Then the other.
She laughed.
A soft, genuine laugh escaped her lips.
"...I'm beautiful."
There wasn't an ounce of vanity in the words.
Only delighted disbelief.
She turned again, watching the dress move with her.
The layered black fabric settled elegantly around her legs before becoming perfectly still.
"...Okay..."
She tilted her head one way.
Then the other.
"...This is incredible."
Another laugh escaped her.
"I don't know what happened..."
She lifted a section of her hair, letting the golden strands spill between her fingers like silk.
"...But the world just became so much more interesting."
Her own reflection smiled back at her.
Not unnaturally.
Simply...
Happily.
She held the mirror's gaze for another quiet moment before a name surfaced effortlessly in her mind.
"Lavinia."
The word left her lips without hesitation.
She blinked.
"...Lavinia."
She hadn't chosen it.
She hadn't remembered it.
She simply...
Knew.
The same way she knew the reflection was her own.
The same way she'd never questioned her name yesterday.
She frowned in quiet fascination.
"...I'm Lavinia."
The certainty was absolute.
No memories appeared.
No explanation followed.
Only the simple, undeniable knowledge that the woman standing in the mirror—
Golden-haired.
Red-eyed.
Beautiful beyond reason.
Was Lavinia.
"...I don't know how I know that."
She smiled at her reflection.
"...But... hello, Lavinia."
The woman in the mirror smiled back, and somehow, despite everything that had happened in the last few minutes...
The name already felt like it had always been hers.
───
Lavinia remained in front of the mirror for another minute, unable to quite tear her eyes away from her reflection.
She shifted onto one foot.
Then the other.
Turned slightly to one side before slowly turning back again.
The movement felt... pleasant.
Almost effortless.
Curious, she spun a little quicker.
Her long golden hair swept outward in a wide arc while the layered black skirt of her dress flared gracefully around her legs before settling back into place.
She couldn't help it.
A quiet laugh escaped her.
"...Okay."
She did it again.
This time a little faster.
The skirt fanned out beautifully before folding neatly back around her legs as she came to a stop.
"...That's..."
Another small laugh.
"...Ridiculously fun."
She looked at herself in the mirror, a smile lingering on her face.
"I feel like I should be handling this worse."
That thought had been sitting quietly in the back of her mind for the past several minutes.
She'd woken up in an entirely different body.
A different voice.
Different senses.
Different...
Everything.
Yet instead of panicking...
She was spinning in front of a bathroom mirror because her dress looked pretty.
"...I mean..."
She rested a hand lightly against the sink.
"I wasn't exactly attached to being a guy."
She shrugged.
"There were advantages."
A thoughtful hum escaped her.
"No periods."
She counted on one finger.
"No mood swings."
A second finger joined the first.
"...Standing to pee."
She stared at her own reflection for a second before breaking into another laugh.
"That one's probably the biggest loss."
The words left her mouth so casually that she surprised herself.
She tilted her head.
"...Still."
Her smile softened.
"I think I'm taking this a little too well."
She expected that sentence to sound uncertain.
Instead...
It rose gently near the end before settling back down, the cadence flowing naturally from one word into the next.
Lavinia blinked.
"...Huh."
She said it again.
"Huh."
The same thing happened.
Her voice lifted and fell almost musically, never enough to sound theatrical, yet enough that every sentence seemed to carry an effortless rhythm.
She hadn't intended it.
She wasn't trying to sound cute.
It simply...
Happened.
She watched herself speak in the mirror.
Her lips curved upward ever so slightly.
Another pause.
She wasn't trying to smile either.
It simply felt...
Natural.
Not a wide grin.
Just a gentle, playful smile that seemed perfectly at home on her face.
"...Weird."
She reached up and lightly touched one corner of her mouth.
The smile remained.
Not forced.
Not stuck.
Just...
Comfortably there.
She lowered her hand again.
"...I really am different."
The words carried no sadness.
Only quiet fascination.
Swallowing once, Lavinia turned away from the mirror and made her way back toward her bedroom.
Her long hair followed behind her in a soft golden curtain, brushing lightly against the backs of her legs with every step.
Her phone still rested where she'd left it the night before.
She picked it up from the charger.
The screen lit immediately.
"...Good."
At least it hadn't died.
She rested her thumb against the fingerprint sensor.
Nothing.
She frowned.
"...Come on."
She tried again.
The phone vibrated.
Fingerprint not recognized.
"...Seriously?"
Only then did she slowly look down at her own hand.
"...Right."
These weren't her fingerprints anymore.
"...Fair enough."
She entered the passcode manually.
The phone unlocked.
Almost immediately, notifications flooded the screen.
Messages.
News alerts.
Emergency broadcasts.
Missed calls.
She blinked.
"...That's..."
She tapped the first headline.
The page opened.
Her eyes moved across it.
Or rather...
Barely moved.
She wasn't reading line by line.
Her gaze skimmed across the article almost lazily, yet every sentence seemed to settle neatly into place inside her mind as though she'd read it normally.
She stopped.
"...Did I just..."
She looked away.
Then back again.
Another paragraph.
The same thing.
She barely glanced over it.
Yet she understood every word.
"...Well."
She laughed softly.
"That's useful."
Her attention returned to the article.
The Darkness Confirmed Global Phenomenon.
According to preliminary reports, the event had occurred simultaneously across the entire world at 7:38 AM.
It had lasted only a few seconds.
During those seconds...
Everyone had lost sensation.
Not consciousness.
Not memory.
Simply...
Everything.
Sight.
Hearing.
Touch.
Taste.
Smell.
The entire world had gone silent.
Then it ended.
And when it did...
Some people had become werewolves.
Others...
Vampires.
Lavinia's eyes continued moving effortlessly across the article.
Governments around the world were still attempting to understand what had happened.
Reports continued arriving by the minute.
Videos.
Photographs.
Witness statements.
Hospitals were overwhelmed.
Emergency services were responding to incidents involving transformed individuals.
No one knew why some people had changed while others hadn't.
No one knew what the Darkness had been.
No one knew if it could happen again.
She quietly lowered the phone.
The bedroom suddenly felt very still.
"...So..."
Her crimson eyes drifted toward the window, where sunlight filtered softly through the drawn curtains.
"It wasn't just me."
For the first time that morning...
The reality of it settled in.
Somewhere, all over the world...
There were people just like her.
And somehow...
That thought made the impossible feel just a little less lonely.
Lavinia,