*Crash* *Shatter* "Hahahaha!"
"Jesus Christ Aster. Give it a rest. It's not even 8:30, you're going to get us caught!" Ben said in a subdued angry tone.
"Bah, nobody sticks around here this late, not after dark. Even the bar food place only opens for lunch anymore. This town's a dud. 'Sides, if the cops show up we'll scatter.. no biggie."
Aster had been picking up and randomly hurling discarded glass bottles as the two boys made their way through the dimly lit back alley. They were headed for the old paintball store because the clerk had recently refuse to accept what Ben considered to be a valid return. He'd purchased a box of 100 paintballs but none of them were making it out of the gun barrel intact. The store clerk blamed his gun or the pressure adjustment, but he knew better. Those balls were janky ass shit, probably dried out or expired, and now the store was going to pay. The boys had been friends since kindergarten and now that they were going to be starting 8th grade in the fall, they were beginning to explore their independence... They were getting out into the world and, yeah, dolling out a little justice where it was needed.
Aster's parents weren't very involved in his life so he liked to skip school and wander around, mostly just to see what was going on and waste some time, but in the summer he was always free to go where he pleased. He'd noticed the paintball store had been resealing their roof with gallons of roofing tar. The implications were obvious. They'd need to get to the roof and dump a few buckets where they didn't belong. Maybe give the pantball sign a little artistic zhuzh, maybe douse those discarded mannequins with a little tar and feathers... Yeah, they'd brought along a pillow. They came prepared.
"Here we are... Lets do this quick. I gotta get home a little early tonight" Ben said stepping up to the roof access ladder.
"Fuck, it's locked..." Ben exclaimed.
"Who locks a ladder?" Aster whined.
"Probably a bunch of vandalphobes." Ben replied, rolling his eyes.
"That's rich coming from a store that sells guns that literally shoot paint." Aster observed "I'll go back and grab the ladder we used to cross the creek. It's not tall enough to get to the roof on its own, but it'll at least get us high enough to step onto the roof access ladder."
"Hold on, I think I can pick the lock." Ben said confidently.
"With what? Did you bring a lock pick set?" Aster replied sarcastically.
"No... I'll find something. We don't have time for you to walk all the way back to where we crossed the creek. and there's plenty of junk back here. Help me find something pointy." Ben said in a hushed hurried tone.
The boys looked all around rooting through all of the discarded alley flotsam. Spray cans, glass jars, broken CDs, boxes, soda cans, cigarettes, etc.
"Check it out. It looks like a Mormon was raptured over here." Aster said holding a discarded button up shirt and a pair of dress pants.
"Halarious..." Ben said smiling "Wait, look for the name tag, those have pins on them, don't they?"
"I don't see any name tag... Maybe those go up to heaven as well?" Aster said dumbly with a shrug "Either way this Mormon was a smelly fella... Nevermind, this wasn't a Momormon... Unless those guys wear lace up go-go boots..." he trailed off mumbling.
"Hey here's a blue jacket... whew, yeah... this smells pretty rank as well, but there IS a tag!" Ben exclaimed triumphantly.
He fiddled with the clasp unsure how the latching mechanism work and unable to see clearly in the dimly lit alley. Suddenly the mechanism popped apart and the pin jolted free, sinking itself violently into Ben's thumb.
"Geeisgh!" Ben yelped at the surprise pinprick, instinctively sucking the tip of his thumb for a moment before shaking it haphazardly in the air.
"I got it!" Ben said, dismissing his minor wound and returning to the lock to begin his craft.
"So, what was the guys name?" Aster inquired, growing impatient with the entire lock picking plan and dubious of his companion's lock picking skills.
"It doesn't matter... Just let me work for a second" Ben pleaded.
"Well, I'd like to know. I never root around in a man's discarded clothing without finding out his name. It's one of my personal rules of etiquette." Aster teased.
"Here, take it" Ben relented, "Bring it over to the light if you're that curious."
Aster dashed quickly over to the incandescent glow above the restaurant's loading dock and read the embossed lettering on the tag.
"Hey, check it out... It's yours." Aster said grinning
"What do you mean it's mine?" Ben replied skeptically
"It has your name on it, see?" he said holding the tag into the light and holding the tag in view, "It say's 'Walker'."
"That's not so impressive. It doesn't say 'Benjamin Walker', it's not mine... Walker is a common name. Now let's have it back man, we're wasting time."
"You're wasting time... Who are you kidding? You don't know how to pick a lock." Aster said accusingly, returning the name tag to its rightful owner.
"Not when people insist on taking my tools, I can't" Ben admitted in frustration
"So it IS yours!" Aster said triumphantly.
"Shut up!" Ben hissed, giving his friend a good natured kick to the shin.
"Well, on the wildly improbable off-chance that you somehow fail to pick the lock, Houdini, I'm going to head back and fetch the ladder... It's not like I'm doing anything constructive here anyway..." Aster said turning back toward the creek.
"Your call man, but don't expect me to save you any tar." Ben cautioned exaggeratedly
"Yeah, I'll go ahead and take my time..." Aster replied rolling his eyes. He placed his headphones in and started hop/walk/dancing his way back down the alley.
Ben eagerly returned to his lock picking, thinking he might have better results if he bent the tip of the pin slightly. He stopped suddenly. listening intently into the darkness. He thought he'd heard something moving. There it was again. a scraping sound... It must be an animal or something in the garbage, he rationalized. Nothing to worry about... But the sounds grew stranger... They were quiet but sometimes unnatural somehow. Like marbles all rolling together towards the same place. Animals don't sound like that. He couldn't think of anything that did.
Eventually curiosity got the better of him; he went over to see what was moving around in the garbage. The first thing he noticed was that the blue jacket looked cleaner and smaller... And it had ornate, heavy buttons that he hadn't noticed before. The pants were totally different as well, they were mended. When Aster had held them up earlier, they looked like thy had been torn to shreds...
Ben leaned over and picked up the blue jacket. It was a lot smaller. It had been adult size, but now it looked like it would fit Ben. Experimentally Ben held the blazer up to his chest to see just how close the fit actually was. To his surprise it looked perfectly tailored to his proportions...
"This can't be the same one I was looking at before." He said looking around for another similar jacket, but finding no trace of one.
He dropped the jacket carelessly back to the ground when suddenly he felt cold air on his chest.
"Hey, what the fuck!" He said quietly in awe as he noticed a gaping, growing hole in his shirt. It looked like everywhere the jacket had touched his clothes were starting to crumble away and it was spreading!
Panicking he wrenched his shirt off over his head and threw it away. He needed to protect his skin, the jacket may have been contaminated by something corrosive. He checked his hands, concerned they could melt off, but they looked and felt alright. He sniffed his fingers to see if they smelled of any strong chemical odor but he couldn't detect any scent besides that of acrid body odor.
Suddenly and without warning, his shorts fell around his ankles. There hadn't been much holding them up to begin with. He was always one to ride them low and baggy, relying mostly on the shape of his butt to keep them from falling off, but he could see the clasp had been eaten away just like the front of his shirt. He started trying to tug his legs out of the dissolving shorts but his size 13 skate shoes were chunky and over padded, making the task extra difficult. The situation was so surreal...
"AAAAAAAAAAH!" He screamed with startled abandon, looking around frantically to see who might have touched him. He had felt a sudden sharp tightness grow around his crotch. It was as if someone had put a vacuum hose up his boxers, shrinking them down instantly to perfectly conform to his shape. Inspecting the result and calming down from the sudden fright, he found that his boxers had indeed shrunk down and that they looked different than before, thicker... knit instead of woven, and it was hard to tell in the dimness but they didn't look blue anymore either, more like olive green? They'd become boxer briefs, which he'd never warn before and wasn't particularity enjoying at the moment. The way they tightly cupped his package was confining and annoying, and he didn't care for the bulging codpiece like bump he was now shamelessly forced to sport. They were so dorky, nothing like the cool, loose, grungy style he always prided himself on and felt comfortable in.
He tugged fruitlessly at the bulge in his underwear trying to pull the confining fabric away from his dick, but it just kept snapping back. He thought if he stretched it out far enough it might cause the fabric's elasticity to weaken and give his bits a little extra room to roam but doing so only served to reveal another curious fact, the waistband was fused to his skin! He tried tugging on them and pulling at them as much as he could but they were stuck! Pulling at the underwear didn't actually cause his skin to stretch away from his body either, it was as if the waistband was anchored just above the surface of the skin by magic. Tugging at the underwear didn't transfer any pulling force to the skin, it just inexplicably didn't move. The fly was fused closed as well and the legs were also sealed tightly to his legs unable to be adjusted upwards or downwards. "Fuck. My nards are trapped!"
Just then he remembered his dissolving shorts were still sat around his ankles. He looked down and saw that they were still there, but they seemed to have an odd lifeless quality to them. He raised his left foot to continue trying to extrude his shoe through whatever was left of his shorts when, to his surprise he saw his naked foot rise from the pile as his clothing seemed to disintegrate into dust. What looked like lifeless material no longer had any substance and crumbled away at the slightest disturbance. His shorts, shoes and socks were all gone.
He jumped away from the pile, not feeling comfortable standing in the untimely ashes of his former clothing. He was naked now. He no longer had any clothing beyond his restrictive underwear, he realized...
"And my dress uniform." The unsolicited thought seemed to enter his head out of nowhere.
"What? That uniform? That's not mine!.." He thought, gazing down at the name tag still in his hand.
WALKER
"Hell no!" He shouted forcefully throwing the name tag at the blazer.
All at once he felt a pair of thin socks probing around his toes. He lifted his feet one by one in surprise providing the perfect opportunity for the socks to snake up his legs. Startled by the sudden attack, he turned around in confusion and shock, stumbling backwards onto the ground in front of the pile of discarded clothing. While he reached down to remove the unwelcome socks he felt something else blanketing him from behind. The white button up shirt was wrapping itself around him. His arms were quickly covered in the thick weighty material and the shirt began to close around his bare chest. He reached to pull apart the shirt plackets but found himself involuntarily fastening the buttons instead. He instinctively began to contort his head from left to right, trying in vain to put a comfortable distance between his nose and the offensive smelling shirt. Ultimately his higher brain realized it was futile and he regained his composure. With the shirt fully buttoned he realized he should get up and put some distance between him and the rest of the clothes. They were clearly possessed and intent on joining with him.
He crouched forward ready to sprint away when out of nowhere his legs were engulfed by the slacks. They seemed to slip effortless up his legs and around his knees. There was no stopping them from sealing themselves around his waist. He tried desperately to unfasten the clasp but it was stuck. He tried sucking in his stomach and pulling them down as hard as he could but they would not move.
He had no time to think and no time to act before an extra weight crawled onto his back. The blazer smothered him to the ground. He could feel the dress shirt and blazer wrestling with him working together to contort his limbs to accept the blazer onto his frame. His face was being pressed uncomfortably into the pavement and he couldn't push himself up without the use of his arms. In the midst of his writhing he noticed the frightening sensation of being choked. Something was binding tightly against his neck!.. At last the clothing became calm. Every piece was situated and in perfect order. He stood up looking himself over. The name tag shone proudly on his chest and a tightly knotted necktie that he didn't seem able to loosen had found its place under his collar...
Just when he thought his struggles were over a thick belt flew toward his midsection clamping tightly around his center causing him to stumble backward and fall back onto his butt. Looking ahead of him at the piles of trash, he saw a pair of tall leather boots literally crawling towards him. The laces seemed to reach ahead and drag the boots forward like spindly little legs. The tongue of the boots extended outward expanding the quarter opening to generous size, inviting Ben's feet to enter.
Ben crab walked backwards overcome by fear at actually seeing the living clothes move on their own for the first time. He was preparing himself to turn and run when suddenly the boots began to draw him towards them. He felt like he was being sucked into a giant vacuum. He turned over trying to crawl forward but his legs were being pulled straight by the awesome attraction. He tried to grip the ground with his arms but it was no use. The boots were pulling him too strongly; he began to inch backwards slowly. He could feel the rest of the uniform pushing him along with the suction encouraging him to slide backwards even faster. As the distance between him and the ravenous boots continued to close, the attraction only became stronger and he began to move faster and faster until:
*FLOOMP*
His feet met their inevitable end, firmly striking the insoles of the boots. Ben became aware of a terrible, indescribable discomfort in his feet as the laces began to constrict tightly embedding the creases of his pants and elastic folds of his dress socks deeply and irritatingly into his soft skin.
He stood up, inspecting himself again... The exacting tailoring and wide belt seemed to discourage Ben from slouching. He felt most comfortable in an exaggeratedly straight, dignified posture. He felt silly standing so straight, as though he were actually proud of his uniform, but he was unwilling to endure the discomfort of slouching for the sake of vanity... At least for the time being.
"What the hell?" Came the sound of Aster's voice from behind him. "What's with the getup?"
He was standing there carrying the ladder. Ben was uncertain how he could have snuck up on him so effectively, but with everything he had been going through, perhaps it was no surprise.
"Aster!? Uh, this is my Cadet uniform..." Ben said looking suddenly bemused. "I mean, you were right it was my uniform so I decided to put it on..."
Ben was finding it impossible to tell Aster about the magic he'd witnessed... Every time he tried to explain what happened it came out all wrong. Like he'd intentionally put the clothes on himself.
"Ok... That's an interesting joke man... I'll admit it looks a lot better on you than it looked in the trash, but dude... It's still super gross." Aster said with a nervous chuckle.
"Wait" Aster continued looking confused, "What's going on with your hair!? Jesus Christ!"
Suddenly alarmed, Ben reached up and felt the sides of his head... He was bald! No, there was still a little bit on top, but his hair was mostly missing.
"What happened?" Jr. Cadet Walker asked pleadingly, "Did it fall out?"
"It... It fell IN! Like, it just got SUCKED into your head or something..." Aster replied, "I've never seen anything like it."
"It's this suit. It's magic or something." Jr. Cadet Walker explained feeling suddenly able to explain his experience freely. "What I said before, was bogus... I didn't put this stuff on by myself. It came to life and attacked me. You've gotta believe me! Its like it was keeping me from telling you about it until you saw the magic yourself..."
"Well you look like a total dork, Jr. Cadet Walker... It's actually kind of funny." He said laughing, as he sat the ladder down and moved over to the trash pile, "Didn't I see a hat over here as well?.. Here we go."
Aster approached Jr. Cadet Walker smugly and bombastically pulled the cap over his head.
"What the hell, man?" Jr. Cadet Walker whined, trying unsuccessfully to remove the hat from his head. "You're such an ASS! Once this stuff is on it doesn't come OFF!"
"Sorry Bro, I didn't know that" Aster said feeling genuinely rotten. "Maybe if we both try together we can get you out of that thing."
"Fine" Jr. Cadet Walker sighed, always quick to forgive his friend. "Boots first; they're the worst."
Aster sat down on the ground and focused on the left boot while Jr. Cadet Walker bent over and worked on the right. They tried for a few minutes to get the shoelace knots loose, but weren't having any success. Aster started trying to get his fingers between the boot and Jr. Cadet Walker's leg but they were just too tight. "Lift your leg wile I pull down." Aster suggested. He pulled and twisted in every direction but it was clear they weren't making any progress.
"LIGHTS OUT!" Jr. Cadet Walker Shouted without warning
Aster suddenly found himself supporting the full weight of his friend as he seemed to collapse into a paralyzed heap on top of him.
"Hey! Get off me, man. You're getting me all covered in that disgusting uniform stink!"
Jr. Cadet Walker remained unresponsive, a lifeless pile of dead weight. Aster tried to jostle him awake but he remained silent and unmoving. Eventually Aster had to push and wrestle his way out from underneath his friend's unresponsive body. Upon finally freeing himself he turned to assess his friends condition. He was breathing but he was out cold.
"HEY! Wake Up!" He shouted getting worried. "Are you sleeping?.. This isn't funny man."
He continued to jostle and shake his friend; anything to rouse him. Nothing was working. "People don't just fall asleep in an instant... That's impossible! Could he be in a coma?"
Feeling the situation was getting serious, he decided he needed to call emergency services. He quickly dialed 911 into the burner phone he always brought along with him whenever he was making mischief and explained the situation to the operator who answered, obviously leaving out anything that would make him sound insane.
"Do you know if your friend is narcoleptic?" The operator asked.
"I don't know what that is." He replied honestly
"Do you know if this has happened to your friend before?"
"No it hasn't." He said with conviction "This is definitely the first time. You need to send someone right away, but just ambulance and fire department, no cops..."
"Sir, dispatch is handled by incident profile and availability. I can't guarantee who will respond, but help is on the way. Don't leave your friend alone, continue to monitor his condition and call again if there are any concerning changes."
"Thank you" He said, ending the call.
Aster waited there with his friend. He placed the pillow they had brought under his head to try to make him as comfortable as possible and continued his efforts to wake him up... He was really scared. He was also worried about the police showing up. He didn't trust cops, and avoided them at all costs. Just then, he saw the illuminated lights of a police car appear at the end of the alley. They were driving towards him. His heart began to race...
"Damn it; I said no cops!"
His fears and instincts began to overwhelm him... He had to run. He wasn't answering any questions... He told himself his friend would be alright... Besides, he wasn't going to be any more help here anyway. He didn't know what was wrong with Jr. Cadet Walker; he should leave this to the professionals.
Having decided what he was going to do, he got up and ran away into the night.
-------------------------------
The police officer exited his vehicle gazing curiously at the motionless person on the ground. He reached into his car, pulling out his radio.
"Dispatch, this is Officer 115. I'm on site here at West and Capital Marsh, I can confirm the situation is a 10-81. I repeat 10-81."
"10-4 Officer 115; Cancelling dispatch. Would you like us to put a trace on the prank caller?"
"Affirmative Dispatch. Over and Out."