Grass Contract

By Ben Richardson

For longer than humans have realized, beings imbued with superhuman strength and abilities have been walking among them. One fateful night, Rose Stragonov, a young woman leading an otherwise unremarkable life, finds herself inexplicably drawn to a mysterious light that transforms her into one of these beings--the Shapeless.

But Rose, now possessing a nearly immortal body and unfathomable power, discovers she is the target of an enigmatic blue-eyed stranger and a shadowy corporation bent on her capture. As Rose struggles to come to terms with having to leave her mundane life behind, she discovers other Shapeless--some of whom are out to imprison her or worse, and some of whom will become her allies in a battle not only for survival but for freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889600091

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Grass Contract

Ben Richardson

Copyright © 2023 Ben Richardson

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88960-008-4 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-009-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

A Good Place to Start

Chapter 2

That's Something New

Chapter 3

No News That's Good News

Chapter 4

Day 1,126: Still in Chains

Chapter 5

The Grass Contract and Those Who Signed It

Chapter 6

A Walk in the City

Chapter 7

Getting Things in Order

Chapter 8

Getting the Band Back Together

Chapter 9

The Sea and the Rose versus the Sun: Round 2

Chapter 10

Bad Day at the Office

Chapter 11

Long Overdue Hospitality

Chapter 12

Housewarming in a Bad Way

Chapter 13

Shoot-Out at the Not-Doing-So-Great Corral

Chapter 14

No One Likes Road Trips

Chapter 15

The Man with Too Many Names

Chapter 16

Cleanup Time

Chapter 17

A Short Reflection

Chapter 18

When We Last Left Our Heroes

Chapter 19

Q&A

Chapter 20

Playtime in the Woods

Chapter 21

Warrior Does Not Equal Tracker

Chapter 22

Heart to Hearts

Chapter 23

A Path Is Chosen

Chapter 24

How the Pink Flower Bloomed

Chapter 25

Where to Strike

Chapter 26

Come Visit the Oasis

Chapter 27

It Was a Good Plan Until It Wasn't

Chapter 28

Swimming through Fire

Chapter 29

Enough Fun for One Day

Chapter 30

Oddly Breaking Even

Chapter 31

Invitation to the Year's Best Party

Chapter 32

Meanwhile in 1817

Chapter 33

Camping Is Always Fun

Chapter 34

End This with Words

Chapter 35

When Words Fail

Chapter 36

Fighting for a Happy Ending

Chapter 37

Good Places to End

Timeline

About the Author

Chapter 1

A Good Place to Start

When you wake up in your own bed to the familiar sound of your wailing alarm clock, the first thought going through your groggy head wouldn't be that this would be the last time your life would be this pleasant. This was most certainly the case with Rose Stragonov, crawling out from under the warmth of her blanket cocoon to once again silence her alarm as she had fumbled to do countless times before. Rose rolled out of bed, eyes half-open, and staggered to the bathroom to continue her tried-and-true routine.

Rose would never describe herself as anyone special. Her long curly red hair was too unruly for anything other than a haphazard ponytail. Her pasty white skin was bombarded by too many freckles. She never liked how blocky her jaw was, and her nose was a tad too large for her liking. Her thick-rimmed glasses did help balance those features out, however.

Even when she moved past her physical attributes, Rose didn't think she had a particularly outstanding personality. She was nicer than and not as boring as many of the people she ever met, but Rose never saw herself as anyone's first pick for a favorite person. She didn't let this thought bog her down since, realistically, most people weren't her favorite either.

Now clean, Rose walked out of the bathroom and made her way to her kitchen for breakfast. She reached for her favorite cereal and poured it into her favorite bowl. She was surprised by the prize that dropped into her half-filled bowl. Since a plastic whistle wouldn't help her make it through the morning, she had little choice but to add some other brand to the mix. Hopefully, whole grain and artificial fruit flakes would go well together.

Her apartment was respectable—one bed, one bath, and a small kitchen and living room only separated by linoleum and hardwood floor, not too bad for a recent college graduate. Movie posters adorned the walls as paintings would in a museum. Her bookshelves were filled with well-worn novels spanning various genres and the occasional overpriced textbook her college wouldn't buy back. Her TV was more for show since whatever show she watched could be streamed on her laptop, so there was no reason to use what little spending money she had on cable.

After polishing off her breakfast, Rose checked the clock. She was right on schedule, as always. Rose was pretty infamous for her time management skills. She took great pride in never being late, and she owed it all to her parents.

As a child, she was always late to everything they had to bring her to. When Rose complained about their lack of punctuality, her mom always responded, You have to lighten up, or you'll get weighed down, which she never found useful. Rose vowed after she missed the bus to summer camp back in third grade that she would never be tardy again.

Ready for human interaction, Rose made her way out the door to work. Lucky for her, Blackwell Industries wasn't too far away, so she was able to bike there when the weather was nice. And the clear skies above meant she could save some money on gas that day.

The job itself wasn't that bad. Data entry wasn't glamorous, but it paid more money than her writings did. Not that it was a hard number to surpass since she never could sell any of her manuscripts. It was a bummer, but with this job, she could still try to write on the weekends.

Rose took pride in that she was finally living on her own. While she was now far away from all her friends and family, she considered it her greatest achievement in her young adult life. Her parents would tell her to be prouder about earning a college degree, but to her, a BA in English literature wasn't worth anything to her when she couldn't use it.

But she would persevere and make it work one day. And from there, the life of fun and excitement she always dreamed of would be well on its way. But for now, mindless drone work was all she could see ahead of her.

As she pulled into the parking lot, a portly man in an ill-fitted suit struggled to get out of his car. It was her supervisor, Buford Wilcox, struggling to balance three boxes of paperwork he had brought home to work on.

He was a nice enough guy, a bit of a stick in the mud, but as long as you were doing your job, he left you to your own devices. Her favorite part of his leniency was how little he cared about the office dress code as long as you didn't have a meeting to attend. And since Rose was just a lowly desk jockey, she was able to wear her comfortable turtleneck sweaters every day. It was also a comfort to Rose to know at least one other person who had glasses larger than hers.

It was painfully obvious that Mr. Wilcox was carrying more than he could handle. Before he could spill the contents all across the parking lot, Rose abandoned her bike and snatched one of the boxes away.

Good morning, Ms. Stragonov. As punctual as ever, he greeted, oblivious to how Rose had just saved him from having to spend hours salvaging his entire workload.

Thank you, Mr. Wilcox, Rose replied, catching her breath from running across the parking lot. Any big plans for the weekend?

My daughter's dance recital, but we have a full day of work to get through first.

Mr. Wilcox briskly marched to Blackwell Industries's entrance. Rose knew he wasn't much for small talk, but he appreciated the effort.

After delivering Mr. Wilcox's box to his office, recovering her scratched bike, and locking it up, Rose meandered to her tiny cubicle. The small-town office building wasn't anything you'd write home about and had very little that could distinguish it from any other office you'd come across. Blackwell Industries was completely fine with that. They just wanted to keep the business running, not win interior design contests. Rose empathized with that.

Sydney Key strolled in as Rose put her bag down. Key flashed her famous million-dollar smile. And how are we this fine morning, Rosebud? Sydney was a cheery middle-aged soccer mom who somehow hadn't let the place drain her spirit after the decades she had toiled there. Rose vowed to figure out that secret one day.

Just happy it's Friday, Rose stated. As a fellow chatterbox, she knew not to give Sydney too much feedback, or else she wouldn't stop talking till lunch.

Happens every week, she chirped back. My son, Marlin—you remember Marlin, my oldest, right? Well, he's getting his braces off Monday, so I have to take off then. It'll be like a three-day weekend for me!

Rose nodded and grunted in understanding, which was Sydney's signal to go to her neighboring cubicle. We'll talk more at lunch. Don't work too hard till then! Mrs. Key meant well, but she was best taken in small doses.

Kenton Morris wandered in as Rose booted up her computer. Kenton was a mop-headed lad who had skipped across the pond a few months back. His untucked button-down shirt hung on his lanky body. His dark-brown eyes peeked out from under his equally brown hair. All these little elements together always managed to cause Rose's heart to skip a beat, his English accent the cherry on top of it all.

He put a medium coffee with extra cream down next to her keyboard. She wasn't a fan of coffee, but it was a tolerable white lie to pretend she loved it so she could talk with Kenton.

Thanks, Kenton, Rose said as she took a small sip. She was careful to not let him find out most of it went to waste.

No problem, dove. You got the next round, right? Kenton drank from his extra-large black coffee.

Of course. Rose took another tiny taste. So…any big plans for the weekend?

Some of the guys here invited me to the local pub after work today. Then I have tickets to a big football game in the next city over.

Do you mean American football or European football? Rose quipped.

Actual football. You Yanks just have to make everything difficult with your driving on the wrong side of the road and your refusal to learn the metric system, Kenton said playfully.

You know us Americans—revolting since 1776! Rose immediately regretted using the word revolting.

In any case, hopefully that's enough to keep me occupied. Kenton finished off his beverage. And what about you?

Oh, uh, I, uh, have this and that to do, you know? she managed to spit out.

Kenton didn't need to know that all she had planned was binge-watching old cartoons while trying to not let it distract her from trying to write.

Sounds right lovely to me. If you're not doing too much this or that after work, we're going to be meeting at the pub around six. I don't see any reason you can't drop by too. Same goes for you, Mrs. Key.

Sydney's bob cut popped over the cubicle wall. Oh, thank you, dear, but I've got to help Sebastian with his math homework. He's having some trouble wrapping his head around fractions, but who doesn't at that age? But you kids have fun.

Good luck with that, Kenton said. Are you coming, Rose, or can you not move around your ‘this and thats'?

Rose was taken completely off guard. It was the first time Kenton had ever suggested they meet outside of work. Sure, it was with other coworkers, but it was a big step in the right direction. Oh! Uh, yes! Uh, yeah, I think I can drop by, Rose managed to stammer, following it with a big gulp from her coffee and trying her best to hide her disgust at the steaming beverage.

Chitchat can wait for closing time, people! Mr. Wilcox bellowed from his office down the hall. Those spreadsheets won't fill themselves!

I suppose they won't, huh? See you later, Rose. Kenton sauntered his way to his cube.

Rose's tongue was burned too badly to reply with anything but a thumbs-up, which went unnoticed. Smooth move, Rose thought to herself.

*****

The office clock took its sweet time to close out the day. Rose's utter failure with Kenton didn't really help time move any faster. Kenton snuck out as soon as Mr. Wilcox was distracted, so she didn't have a chance to repair his image of her. She did have the bar later to remedy this, so she didn't fret too much. However, seeing as Rose drank less alcohol than coffee and didn't really do well with crowds, her redemption was up in the air.

After quickly heading back to her apartment to freshen up and decide on what to wear, ultimately deciding on a different turtleneck, she was off to meet Kenton.

The sunset looked beautiful as she cycled through the streets. As she passed the park, a sliver of blue light sliding through the sky caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. The thin string of light was gone by the time she turned her head in its direction, replaced with an even thinner streak of smoke rising from deep within the forest's nature trail. Rose could have sworn she was just seeing things, but without realizing it, she was already pedaling to the mysterious smoke.

Rose entered the park. I'm going to be late, she tried to rationalize to herself. It was nothing. Just a trick of the eye.

No matter what argument she made to herself, she was compelled to investigate. It was as if that light sparked a primal instinct in her to seek it out. It was as if, in that brief instant she saw it, it called out to her very soul like a banquet to a starving man.

Rose pedaled down the nature trail. The path became bumpy, forcing her to slow down. The source of the smoke beckoned to her to go deeper and off-trail, so it was time to ditch the bike.

I'd better be preventing a forest fire or something. Otherwise, I'm ruining these shoes for no good reason.

As she continued toward the smoke, she noticed it had a slight blue shimmer to it. After inadvertently stepping into another mud puddle, she finally found the origin.

A blue rock was steaming in a tiny crater. Despite the steady stream of smoke, it didn't seem to emanate any heat. Now that she was close to it, she found herself entranced by the mysterious object. Rose pulled her sleeve over her hand and picked it up gingerly.

The stone glowed brighter as she moved it closer to her face. Rose couldn't help herself and, against her better judgment, poked it with her bare finger. The glow immediately stopped, along with the smoke. Her trance broken, Rose took a closer look at the stone.

If she hadn't known better, she would have thought it was just any rock she would find inexplicably stuck in her shoe. Even using what little she remembered from that one semester of geology, the pebble didn't seem extraordinary. Except for the fact it was just glowing, of course. Then in an instant, it began to crack.

A burst of an azure powder erupted in her face. Startled, Rose screamed and tossed the stone. She backtracked from the cloud, coughing and waving her arms.

Oh, god! she yelled in her head, too horrified to actually form the words or sounds. What was that?! What is on my face!

She made her way back to her bike, hyperventilating and panicking. Rose fell to her knees as she fumbled for her phone to call an ambulance, but then she noticed something: her glasses were clean. She knew that they were covered in…whatever that powder was. She turned on her phone's camera and saw that her face wasn't blue.

That can't be, she muttered to herself. I know that…something got on me.

Even her clothes were messy only from the mud she fell into. Rose gave herself a minute to evaluate her situation. She felt fine. Shaken, but fine. Did I imagine all that? she thought.

There was no evidence, no proof of anything odd. Was it possible she just imagined the whole thing? Whatever the case may have been, Rose's cautious nature decided her next stop would be to the nearest emergency room just to be on the safe side.

Rose took another minute to compose herself. As she did, she took out her notebook and quickly jotted down what had happened. That way, if she passed out, at least the paramedics would have some idea on why. A quick review of the note only emphasized how odd this situation was, if her frantic scribblings made any sense at all.

No time to edit. Rose hopped back onto her bike and raced to the hospital.

*****

Rose slammed her apartment door open and threw her things on the floor. After five hours of filling out forms, three doctors poking and prodding her, and a nice, hefty hospital bill, all she'd gotten was a warning to watch her cholesterol.

She'd told the doctors she came into contact with some foreign powder but thought that adding a psych evaluation onto the bill for saying it came from a glowing rock wasn't completely necessary. Even still, no anomalies found, but some of the blood tests would take a day to provide conclusive results.

Missing out on Kenton also left her really sour. She didn't have his number, so she couldn't even let him know why she'd bailed. Today just wasn't her day.

Rose chugged down a glass of water, filled it back up, and brought it with her as she went to put her pajamas on. No use dwelling on the past. Might as well plan out the weekend.

She shuffled out of her room and made her way to a notepad and another glass of water. Finished the cereal this morning, so I'll go tomorrow to get some more. What else am I running low on?

Rose took inventory on her food while sipping away at her drink. Writing out her list was giving her flashbacks to the forms. Ugh, enough of this. I'll do it in the morning. I'll just wind down with a movie and go to bed.

Rose filled her cup and finished it before she sat down. As she booted up her laptop, she went to refill her glass. She downed the entire glass as she looked for her computer's charger. She wiped her brow off, realizing she was drenched in sweat. Then she found herself hyperventilating.

No, I'm just imagining things. It's all in my head, Rose unconvincingly thought. I'm just freaking myself out. The doctors said there was nothing wrong.

Her comforting thoughts were quickly wiped away by a wave that burst throughout her body. Rose threw herself on the floor and rolled around in pain.

She crashed into her furniture, knocking everything to the floor. Her attempts at screaming only produced low-pitch wails. She contorted into unpleasant positions, as if to distract herself with different agony. Joints bent in angles they were never meant to. Rose felt her very flesh stretch, swirl, and squeeze itself on her cracking bones.

The aching filled every fiber, every cell, of her very being. It was so much that there was no way for Rose to even process all of it, but there was still plenty for her to suffer through.

The last thing Rose remembered before blacking out was feeling blood trickling out of her eyes.

Chapter 2

That's Something New

Rose's trusty clock desperately tried to wake her with its incessant beeps. She started to come to, flailing her hand to turn off the alarm. She soon remembered that she wasn't in her bed but splayed on her living room rug, where she'd collapsed due to mind-breaking torment. This brought back her panic attack.

She staggered to her feet, powering through the sudden head rush, and stumbled to the bathroom to see what had happened to her. She gathered all her courage before she looked in the mirror. It was not what she was expecting.

Judging from the mind-breaking pain she experienced, she was completely ready to see a Lovecraftian-Cronenberg monstrosity leering back at her. Sure, she was covered in patches of dried blood, her torn clothes equally as bloody, but it was just her reflection looking back at her. Rose needed to look closer to even realize how she had changed.

The alterations were subtle; her freckles were not as pronounced as they once were, her nose and chin had become slightly less prominent, and her body in general was more toned than it had ever been in her entire life.

None of these changes were particularly noticeable if you weren't looking for them, but they made a world of difference to Rose. It then dawned on her that she could see all these as clear as day, which was good since her glasses had broken during her spasms.

Huh, she whispered.

As she continued to stare in disbelief, she noticed that she was feeling better than she ever had. In fact, she was feeling more than she ever had. Colors seemed more vibrant, the quiet hum of the light bulbs and other electronics were clear as day, and she could feel subtle changes in the air on her skin.

Most importantly, Rose felt like she hadn't eaten in weeks. She debated on whether to wash off the blood or try to scrape something together for breakfast next. Surprising her neat freak personality, she picked food—after, of course, silencing that infernal alarm.

Rose streamed out of her room and toward the kitchen. She made sure to sidestep the oceanic bloodstain on her carpet. Cleaning that up was put onto her extensive mental checklist.

We're fine, she muttered to herself. Breakfast makes everything better.

She was out of her favorite cereal, so that was the only thing she didn't eat. She scarfed down actual breakfast foods, but they weren't enough to placate her cravings. Rose threw open the pantry doors and began her assault on her cupboards. She was too hungry to actually cook, so most of the ingredients were devoured raw.

As she chewed on the last potato chip, Rose surveyed the wrapper wreckage surrounding her and was disgusted with herself—not only for eating that much food but that it still didn't fully satisfy her hunger.

She was now full enough to care that she was still covered in blood for who knows how many hours. And now she was also covered in crumbs. This was as good a time as any for her long-awaited shower.

As she scrubbed vigorously, she tried to rationalize what was happening to her.

"All right, all right, let's just try to make sense of this. I'm going to rule out that this is a dream. It's way too real for that. I'm also going to rule out hallucination since there's no way I could be imagining this!" She punctuated by pinching her now-flat stomach.

Rose emptied out her shampoo bottle for the seventh lather-rinse-repeat step. So that means that the glowing rock I found in the park gave me a very bloody makeover. That's the only logical conclusion. Even she found that a bit far-fetched. I don't think I'm going back to those doctors. They'll just poke me some more without giving me an answer. For now, let's just keep this in-house.

The only thought she was confident in was she might finally be done with her shower now that she'd used up all the hot water around thirty minutes ago and was on her third bar of soap.

After changing into a clean set of clothes, Rose did some mental math on how much completely restocking her cupboards would cost her. She always struggled doing math in her head, but now she had no trouble. It seemed that her mind was as tuned up as her body was. She would have been happier if the total she'd come up with wasn't so high.

Rose was now ready to destroy her personal savings. Physically ready, not emotionally. Well, superficially she was mostly ready. For all she knew, a chest-burster would pop out of her in the middle of the produce aisle. Emotionally, she was still a storm of questions and fear.

Everything is fine, Rose, she told herself. Just one step at a time. First, restock the kitchen, then clean up the living room. I've got this. It's only three o'clock…on SUNDAY? I was out cold in a bloody pile on the floor for over twenty-four hours! Rose nearly dropped her phone as the panic attack took hold. Just keep moving forward, Rose. Everything's fine.

*****

Rose found herself craving meat more than she ever had before. Unfortunately, with her budget, processed frozen food would have to do. The biggest challenge in steering her overflowing cart was balancing everything rather than pushing the weight. In fact, her new physique welcomed the challenge.

As she checked the expiration dates on milk, Rose kept trying to ignore the eyes gazing upon her. She'd always felt that people looked at her every now and then, but paranoia and fear from her recent transmogrification made her more painfully aware of them, even if no one was glancing in her general direction. Rose attempted to keep anxiety in check, but it still managed to bubble over and spill into her other thoughts.

Rose inspected the rows of cartoon mascots and their delicious parts of a balanced breakfast to distract herself. But she realized that she couldn't shake off a pair of eyes fixated on her. While keeping her cool as best as she could, she looked out of the corner of her eye to see her admirer. The blond stranger was keeping his distance but steadily inching himself closer to her.

That was her cue to speed up this trip and get out of there. Rose tossed the closest cereal into the heap and rolled out of the aisle.

Rose grabbed a bundle of bananas without stopping and picked up her pace. She worried that this was bringing more attention to herself and alerting her stalker that she was onto him, but she didn't know what else to do. Her suspicions were confirmed as he took a few quick strides toward her, grabbing the side of her cart. Rose's heart stopped as she froze with fear.

"No, no, no, it's okay, fräulein. I'm a friend," he reassured her.

She was taken aback by the stranger's movie-star qualities. He had cheekbones most people would die for. His skin was perfectly tanned, contrasting beautifully with his stunning blue eyes. His white leather jacket must have been worth at least five times more than her overflowing shopping cart.

Rose stepped away from the Blue-Eyed Man, reaching into her purse for her pepper spray. I think you have me mistaken for someone else.

The man chuckled. I should think not. I'm pretty good at finding others like myself.

I'm not sure what you mean there, buddy. She grasped the spray tightly, just waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Fräulein, I think this will clear things up. He ran his fingers through his perfectly sculpted dirty-blond hair. As he did, the hair he touched became a deep red, then faded to green, after finally going back to its original color. See?"

Rose blasted him with the pepper spray. Not expecting that, he stumbled backward into the melon display behind him. She prepared to run, but the stranger took the pepper-spraying very well, lunging forward to grab her wrist like a vice.

He wiped his eyes off with his free hand and straightened out his jacket. Have we gotten that out of our system now? Okay, good. Let me cut to the chase. Did you come across a glowing blue stone on Friday at some point?

Rose nodded as she failed to break free from his grip. How did you know—

Because I, too, was blessed by the Pollen. Pleasure to meet you. My name is Klaus Carpenter.

Carpenter released her hand, with Rose hopping back the second she was free. Her heart and head were racing. This creeper just screams trouble. I should run away, screaming. But he seems to know what happened to me. I figured I'd find some answers at some point, just not this soon. Or this easily. Who knows how long it'll be until another opportunity like this presents itself? I'll squeeze as much information from Carpenter as I can, then ditch him.

But how did you know that I came into contact with…what did you call it? The Pollen? Rose asked.

Carpenter looked around the produce section. "Now might not be the best time or place, fräulein. Our little interaction has attracted some spectators. And I believe what we have to talk about is best kept between the two of us, don't you agree?"

Other shoppers had started to gather and gawk at the two. The attention flustered Rose. She silently agreed.

Carpenter took Rose's cart and pushed it toward the checkout isle.

Why don't you let me buy these for you? Then I can answer all those questions I know must be buzzing through your head. He gave her a comforting smile and gestured for her to follow. It's the least I could do for giving you such a fright.

Rose kept a few paces behind Carpenter as he pulled up to the register.

Finally, she composed herself enough to gain more control over the situation. Answer my question first. How did you know?

Carpenter smiled and nodded at the cashier as he unloaded the cart. "I'd much prefer we had this conversation in a more private setting, fräulein."

Rose snatched the TV dinner out of his hand and slammed it back into the cart. And I'd prefer it if you proved to me that you know what you're talking about before we leave anywhere together.

Carpenter took the box back out and chuckled. "Fine, fräulein, have it your way. He leaned in close to her, which caused Rose to flinch, but his whispers were remarkably soothing and helped to ease her tension. Shapeless—that's the umbrella term for our ‘people'—can sense our kin if they practice at it and concentrate enough. The sensation can come across as any of the five senses, like a slight glow on the subject to a distinct smell. For me personally, it's sort of like a hum. I happened to be in a nearby town when I heard the Light fall and made my way here as soon as I could to find it or whoever it blessed."

I went to the doctor's right after ‘being blessed,' and they didn't see anything wrong or out of the ordinary.

Carpenter tossed a couple of packs of gum into the pile of groceries. I would believe not. They'd have to know what to be looking for in order to detect it, and Shapeless are such a well-kept secret that they wouldn't even know to test for it. It's usually not covered in standard medical textbooks, you see.

"What do you mean Shapeless? What did it do to me exactly?"

Carpenter casually added a tabloid magazine to the pile. I feel I've told you enough for now. This can continue once we leave.

"You can leave by yourself then."

But I'm paying for your groceries. Carpenter sighed. "Fine, you win, fräulein. Well, after being introduced to the host, the Pollen will begin to familiarize itself with its new home. Once it knows what it's working with, it will start a total reconstruction of the body to reach genetic perfection as well as issues the host has mentally noted. As you're painfully aware, it's the worst part of the whole process."

"So it makes you the you you've always wanted to be, Rose recapped. Why call it Shapeless then?"

Carpenter emptied the final contents of the cart and pushed it toward the bag boy. Because that is merely the beginning. Right now, all your cells have gained a sort of sentience. Your body is also able to better break down proteins and reconstitute them into whatever you need. You can heal injuries in a blink of an eye, say goodbye to aging and illness, and just a mere thought can change any part of your body in any other biological form. As long as you have a basic understanding of whatever you're trying to mimic and after a lot of practice at it, of course. But other than that, sky's the limit!

Rose's head was spinning from Carpenter's lecture, but she was pretty sure she'd gotten the gist of it. She was a shape-shifter! It was so much to take in. She was already gifted a new healthy body, but there was still more it could provide. She was paralyzed by the endless possibilities before her and the possible trials and tribulations such power presented.

Carpenter took out his wallet and paid the balance with a wad of hundred-dollar bills. He then proceeded to the exit with the abundant cart of food. Now where is your car, Ms.…?

Rose snapped out of her trance and caught up to him in the parking lot. My name is Rose Stragonov. And I'm parked over here.

What a lovely name. Now I'm sure that my little speech left you with more questions than answers, and I would be remiss to leave you with any lingering questions. Would it be rude of me to humbly ask you for your hospitality and a cup of coffee?

Rose mulled it over. There was still something off about this mysterious man, but she looked into Carpenter's mystifying blue eyes and reassuring smile. His gentle expression helped to relax her paranoia.

She had barely scratched the surface of what he knew, and from what broad strokes he had told her so far, Rose couldn't let this treasure trove of knowledge leave just yet. I think that would be just fine, Mr. Carpenter.

Klaus is fine. Even just Carpenter. In any case, lead the way, Ms. Stragonov.

*****

The weekend was off to a rocky start. First, she'd missed out on a