"What are you doing sneaking in this late, your curfew was an hour ago!" Jake cringed at the voice of Ms. Patterson as soon as he heard it. He had been trying to sneak in the front door and towards his room, but like usual the door hinges squeaked just too much. It was only eight o'clock, and on a Friday night no less, but Ms. Patterson always insisted on him being home at seven. The woman was a wretch. Jake had been in foster care since he was a baby, bounced around from house to house, he couldn't even remember his parents. He lived in a few good places and a few bad ones. Ms. Patterson's house was one of the bad ones. Not because he was mistreated, no, because the woman was a lunatic. Jake was sure she did it only for the extra check from the government every month on top of what her ex-husband sent her in alimony. She was also one of those hardline, right-wing, bible-thumping nut jobs - to put it nicely. She had more rules than anyone Jake had ever lived with, and complained more, too.
With a sigh, he stopped trying to sneak, walking towards the living room where her voice came from. She was watching the news like always, already wearing her fluffy, pink robe. She was a rail-thin woman, her face wrinkled and her mouth in a constant sour twist. She wore her gray hair up in a bun. She was like a cross between an evil, old librarian and a witch, maybe with some nun added in for good measure. "Look at that.." She waved her lit cigarette at the news. "Gays wanting to get married again. Disgusting." That was the other reason he couldn't stand her. He had come to the realization of his own sexuality a year ago, and every time he turned around she was complaining about the gays, or the Jews, or the blacks. Crazy woman, no wonder her husband left. She turned on Jake, giving him her best disapproving glare. "I take you into my house, and you still disobey my rules. You can just forget about dinner and go right to bed. And you won't even think about leaving the house tomorrow."
Jake did his best to look chastised as he muttered and nodded his head. Luckily, he wasn't hungry. Despite the rules he had managed to make a few friends, and he had been spending the evening over at their house, which luckily included dinner. He muttered another soft, "Yes, ma'am," as he made his way back down the hall to his room. He could still hear her scratchy voice muttering about the news as he shut his door behind him. He made his way over to his bed, intending to just go right to sleep, but he stopped as he saw a box laying on the floral bedspread. The address label said simply, "Jacob Castellan," nothing else, not even an address. However it got there it wasn't through Ms. Patterson, she opened any mail he happened to get before he could even look at it. He quickly tore open the box, revealing what looked like a USB drive and a letter.
Dear Mr. Jacob Castellan,
You have been randomly selected to test our new Chronivac version 4.0.
Just plug the device into any computer and it will automatically install.
Enjoy,
TransDem Labs
Jake turned the USB over in his hand a few times. It didn't say what type of program it was, but what the hell, it would kill a few hours at least. He reached under his bed and pulled out his prized possession, an old laptop he received as a Christmas present from his previous foster family. They were good ones, but the father had to move for work, and so back Jacob went. He turned on the laptop, and after waiting through the overly long load time, plugged in the USB. He hoped it didn't need internet, Ms. Patterson disapproved of that completely. "All porn and smut" she'd say. An installation window popped up, and after an amazingly brief few minutes a new icon appeared on his desktop. Normally this laptop had trouble running anything more complex than Solitaire, but when he clicked the icon, a rather sophisticated HUD popped up. A little window opened, "Scanning for local subjects." A quick loading bar ran across the window and disappeared. On the main screen there were a few windows, but only one said anything, just two names:
Jacob Castellan
Maryann Patterson
Weird. It could have gotten his off the computer, but Ms. Patterson? Curious, he clicked his own name and the windows suddenly displayed all sorts of information. One had a digital model of him, and much to his displeasure, the figure was completely nude, and scarily accurate. There were other windows, with all sorts of information, but his eyes were first drawn to the one labeled 'General Overview':
Name: Jacob Castellan
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Ethnicity: Caucasian(Greek/Irish)
Sexuality: Homosexual
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 135
Build: Average
Occupation: High School Student
Other windows went even more in depth. One had all his physical traits on little sliders with a check box to 'Maintain Consistent Parameters', another window with a personality profile, even one with things like careers and finances. And everything was completely accurate. What really caught his attention was at the bottom of the screen. A big red button that read 'Save Changes' with options labeled, 'Adjust Reality', 'Subject Aware'. Could this thing really? No.. probably not. Just some big gimmick. Still, he decided to mess with it just a little. He fiddled around in the general options, messing with his basic stats a little, his brows shooting up as the digital model adjusted along with his changes. He made just a few small ones at first:
Name: Jacob Castellan
Gender: Male
Age: 15
Ethnicity: Caucasian(Greek/Irish)
Sexuality: Homosexual
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 165
Build: Athletic
Occupation: High School Student
He checked both the options to adjust reality and make himself aware before saving the changes. The cursor turned into the little rotating hourglass and just sat there. Jake laughed, he had wondered when the old laptop would crap out on him. Then he noticed a warmth spreading throughout his body. His legs tingled as the suddenly grew longer, his feet stretching his socks as they grew to match. He could feel his shirt slowly getting tighter and looked down to see it hugging his body. His clothes never fit well, but they weren't this bad. He could even see some of his stomach, bared under the too snug shirt. The sleeves stretched tight around his arms as they thickened with new muscle growth, the limbs also growing longer like his legs. The shirt was riding up his torso uncomfortably, digging under his arms and along his back.
Suddenly his clothes snapped back into place. His jeans suddenly enlarging to fit him, his shirt growing two sizes larger in a matter of seconds. Even his socks no longer felt tight on his feet, but just looking down at himself he could tell he was changed. He quickly hopped out of bed, stumbling a bit, unused to his longer limbs as he made his way over to the mirror. The reflection was still him. His facial features were still unchanged, well a little less round, and he still had his same mop off black hair, but he was built like one of the jocks at school. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it up, revealing a lean stomach with some definition around his abs. Still further and he could see the slight rounding of pectorals. He had pecs. He'd never had those.
He muttered softly, "Holy shit, it worked." Even his voice sounded a little deeper coming from his larger body. He ran over to his dresser and picked up on of his few photos. One with a friend he had taken before his last move. Before he had been the shorter one in the picture, but now he stood a couple inches over his old friend. Reality adjusted, just like the program said. He was certain that if he looked in his closet, all his clothes would be bigger like the set he was wearing. He ran over to the computer, his mind swimming with possibilities, what could he change next?