by: nico | Complete Story | Last updated Dec 19, 2007
For the next few days, Jack and Darren barely spoke to each other. When they were in the apartment together, the conversation was limited to brief, terse greetings. Jack knew that Darren quite clearly didn’t appreciate his comments the other night, his displeasure with Jack’s presence showing in every sideways glance and biting muttered remark. Darren still came home sloshed every night, but always found Jack asleep when he did so. In his inebriated state, Darren was often tempted to wake Jack and refute his claim that he was nothing more than drunken bum, but the thought of those eyes staring straight through him was more than enough motivation to put it off for another night.
Still, things remained civil until that Sunday afternoon. Darren was spending the Sabbath the way he normally did, lying in bed in a near-vegetative state and taking in as much pro football as possible. He was watching Kellen Clemens get driven into the turf for the third time that day when a knock came on his door. Darren sighed, wishing he could at least get through the Jets game without being interrupted.
“Yeah?” An annoyed Darren sounded out.
“Can I come in?” Jack asked, his muffled voice barely audible over the din of television.
Darren sighed. “Yeah, sure.”
Jack opened the door and stepped inside, standing there for a moment and waiting for Darren to look in his direction or at least turn the volume down on the TV. After a few moments, Jack saw that he wasn’t going to do either, so he cleared his throat and just spoke over the blaring broadcast.
“Sorry to bother you during the game.” Jack began, practically shouting. “But I was wondering if you could turn down the television. I can hear it clearly in the living room and it’s kinda hard to study with that in the background.”
Darren sucked his teeth and scratched his head, but kept his eyes planted on the screen.
“Um, this is kinda the volume I like to watch the game at.” He weakly stated. “It’ll only be on for a couple more hours, I’m sure you can put up with it until then.”
“...uh huh.” Jack raised an eyebrow. “You know, you might consider doing some studying of your own. Since you’ve missed a bunch of classes, I’d imagine you need good scores on all your exams to pass your courses.”
Darren sighed, sat up, and stared at his nosy roommate. “Look Jack, you’ve already given me the first month’s rent, so I’m not going to kick you out until the first. Until then, why don’t you lay off the lectures. In fact, just don’t talk to me at all, all right?”
With that, Darren returned his attention to the game, immediately cursing as he saw the Jets end another drive three and out. A little taken aback, Jack stood still for a moment before laughing in disbelief and rubbing his temples.
“You stupid child.” He whispered as he reached out with one hand and fluttered his fingers, as though pantomiming the falling of snow.
A second later, the image on the TV exploded into static. Darren bolted upright and furrowed his brow, slightly alarmed at the sudden loss of the broadcast. He furiously clicked through the channels, growing more and more annoyed with each downed network.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Darren groaned as he slammed the remote into the mattress. “Piece’a shit.”
Jack watched impassively as Darren grabbed his wallet and hauled himself out of bed, passionately cursing out his cable provider as he did so. Darren strode towards the door, surprised when he looked up and saw Jack still standing in the frame.
“Oh, you’re still here.” Darren observed. “Well, since the cable isn’t working, I’ve gotta get down to the bar if I’m gonna see the end of the Jets game.”
Jack didn’t move. Darren cocked his head and opened the palms of his hands.
“Uh, move please?”
Jack smiled and shook his head.
Darren glowered. “Listen buddy, don’t make this difficult. Either get out of the way or I’ll do it for you. Okay?”
Jack responded to that by stepping towards Darren, causing him to flinch and curl into a defensive position. However, Jack simply threw an arm around Darren’s shoulder, an act that caught him completely off guard. Darren almost wished Jack had just taken a swing at him, since he had no idea how to respond to this particular gesture.
Darren wanted to pull away from Jack, but the grip he had on his shoulder felt like it belonged to a man twice his size. Growing a little anxious, Darren turned towards Jack to see his roommate staring directly at him, his gentle smile belying the unsettling power of his gaze. Darren looked away and writhed a bit under his touch, almost feeling as though Jack’s scarlet eyes had rendered him powerless.
“You know, I actually feel kinda sorry for you, Darren.” Jake suddenly declared. “I mean, it’s obvious that you were ridiculously spoiled as a child. So it’s not [I]entirely[/I] your fault that you’re such a selfish prick now.”
Darren snorted but didn’t respond beyond that. He was more concerned with the feeling of unease growing in the pit of his stomach, which was becoming more troubling with each passing second.
“Still,” Jack continued, “You really do need some help, and I’m in the best position to give it to you. I wasn’t going to tell you this, Darren, but I’m not just an ordinary student.”
His eyes wide, Darren turned to look at Jack, legitimately curious and a little concerned as to where he could be going with this.
“I’m a practitioner of the dark arts.” Jack finally revealed, smiling broadly.
Oh God, Darren thought. OhGodohGodohGodohGod. I’ve let some cult Satanist headcase into my apartment and he’s about to kill me and draw a pentagram with my blood. Darren still couldn’t find the strength to break Jack’s grip, so he decided to humor him until he could think of a way to escape.
“So, uh...” Darren stammered, his mind scrambling. “Does that mean you’re a witch?”
Jack frowned slightly. “I prefer the term warlock, but yeah, basically.”
“What are you doing here, then? Get kicked out of Hogwarts?” Darren laughed nervously.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ?cause I’ve never heard that one before.”
Darren went pale. Real clever, Darren, he thought. Make jokes at the psycho’s expense.
“In any case, that’s not important.” Jack continued. “What is important is your attitude and what we’re going to do to change it. Don’t take this personally, Darren, but you really need to grow up.”
With that, Jack brought his face close to Darren’s. Their eyes locked, and as badly as Darren wanted to look away, he simply couldn’t. He could swear that Jack’s eyes were somehow glowing even more brightly and vividly than before as they stared into his own, taking in Darren’s whole being inside and out with a calculating, chilling coldness. Darren was so engrossed by Jack’s stare that he didn’t even notice his roommate slowly tapping his forefinger on his shoulder, as though impatiently waiting for something.
[I]Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.[/I]
Without a word, Jack abruptly withdrew his arm and sat down on the bed. Darren blinked a few times, feeling as though his body was dispelling the lingering effects of some sort of paralysis. A small smile on his face, Jack looked on as Darren rubbed his forehead and tried to clear his mind.
“I really didn’t want to have to do that.” Jack finally said, his tone tinged with sympathy.
Darren’s head snapped in Jack’s direction, his expression panicked and accusatory.
“Do what?” Darren questioned sharply. “What did you - graaaargh!”
Darren suddenly cried out in agony and clamped his hand over the shoulder that Jack’s hand was on just a moment ago. The exact spot were Jack had tapped his finger had exploded in pain, feeling to Darren as though someone was pressing a glowing hot brand into his skin.
“Agh...what the fuck did you do?!” Darren screamed, his voice filled with fear.
“I know it hurts, and I’m sorry for that.” Jack comforted, the smile still plastered on his face. “I wouldn’t have done this unless I really thought you needed my help.”
“Fuck you!” Darren managed to get out before releasing a piercing cry and doubling over in agony as the searing pain in his shoulder spread to every part of his body. It felt as though a raging fire was destroying his body from the inside out, the flames roaring off of Darren’s flesh as though it were charcoal. Darren’s skin began to perspire heavily, dark spots forming on the sleeves and chest of his shirt as it became soaked with sweat.
Even though he was growing lightheaded and delirious from the pain, Darren was still cognizant enough to realize that he was going to die. His roommate had used the magic albino warlock touch of death on him and he was going to keel over right in the middle of his bedroom. But had Darren not been distracted by blinding pain, he might have noticed that his clothes didn’t fit quite as well as they had a few minutes ago. The sleeves of his shirt had crept over his palms and were now at the base of his fingers. His pants, which fit perfectly earlier in the day, had become baggy and sagged halfway down his behind.
The smile on Jack’s face grew a little wider as he watched the scene play out before him, the scope of what he had done to Darren slowly becoming apparent. As Darren shrank into his clothes, his facial features began to soften, growing less rugged and handsome and more boyish and cute. Stubble gave way to smooth, soft skin. Eyes grew brighter and wider while the jaw line rounded. Muscles lost definition and withdrew into the body, leaving clothes that they filled out a moment ago empty.
Darren now more closely resembled a young teenager than the virile college student he was supposed to be. No longer held up by his body, Darren’s pants and boxers fell to the floor, his modesty maintained only because his shirt now hung just above his knees.
As Darren’s body approached the tailing threshold of puberty, his form began to change from that of a young man’s to that of a boy’s. His height tumbled, years’ worth of growth spurts being reversed in a matter of moments. What body hair remained retracted into the skin and took away the cover of his scrawny, pale limbs. The shoulders narrowed and were pulled in towards the body, causing his now ridiculously oversized shirt to dangle precariously over one blade.
Still, Darren didn’t realize any of this was happening. All his senses were overloaded with the fiery agony that plagued every inch of his body. Finally, after what felt like weeks’ worth of suffering crammed into a couple of minutes, the pain began to subside.
It ebbed away from his extremities and swiftly flowed back towards the spot of Jack’s contact, concentrating on the shoulder for a final, torturous moment before disappearing entirely.
Darren took deep, gulping breaths, his face flush and his eyes wide with shock. Well, Darren thought, I’m still alive. But how in God’s name did Jake do that?
Jake. Darren stood up straight and saw his roommate sitting on the bed, beaming. Furious at Jake’s apparent enjoyment of his agony, Darren neglected to even notice that he and his roommate were at virtually the same eye level.
“You lousy son of a - ” Darren barely got his curse-filled diatribe started when he noticed that his tone wasn’t quite as deep and commanding as it normally was.
“What...what happened to my voice?” he questioned in a quivering soprano.
“Oh, your voice is normal.” Jack chimed in. “Normal for a boy your age, I mean.”
Darren was about to snap at Jack when he realized that he should be standing much taller than his seated roommate. He had just begun to process that disconcerting bit of information when he felt a tickle around his palm. Darren looked down to see what it was only to find that the sleeves of his shirt were draped over his hands, and, perhaps more pressing, that he was no longer wearing pants. He let out a brief, high-pitched shriek and pulled his shirt down as far as it could go, managing to stretch the garment past his knees and cover most of his skinny little legs. Darren whirled on Jack, horrified but more furious at the intensely humiliating position his roommate had put him into.
“What the fuck is this?!” Darren cried. “Did you...did you [I]shrink[/I] me?!”
Jack laughed and shook his head. “Man, you really are dense. Here, I’ll show you.”
With that, Jack quickly traced an oval in the air with his fingers. A flash of light flared in the center of the imaginary shape, and when Darren’s eyes re-focused, he saw Jack sitting there with a satisfied smile on his face and an oval shaped handheld mirror in his hand.
“How...how did you do that?” An awed Darren asked, struggling to make his mouth spit out the words.
“Warlock, remember? It’s not really a big deal. But this...” Jack played with the word as he slowly turned the mirror towards Darren. “[I]This[/I] takes some skill.”
Darren looked into the mirror and immediately felt his body go numb. Reflected in the glass, with Darren’s pants at his ankles and Darren’s shirt enveloping his small body, stood a trembling, terrified little boy.
-----------------
Darren stood stock still for several moments, his mind desperately trying to comprehend what had just happened. Despite his deep desire to look away, his eyes remained locked on the mirror, taking in the details of the boy that stared back at him. A mop of messy blond hair topped an adorable young face, inlet with shimmering, searching blue eyes. His loose shirt revealed the top of a smooth, nearly sunken chest, the muscle tone gone and replaced with traces of ribs pushing against the skin from within.
With an uncertain gulp, Darren slowly lifted his hand into the air and pulled it through the sleeve, the fabric cascading down his arm and pooling up at his shoulder. His entire form quivering, Darren released a low, anguished moan as his hand, small, soft, and weak, became visible. He turned it over, examining each contour as though trying to make himself believe that this childish appendage actually belonged to him. All of a sudden, Darren choked out a laugh and turned towards Jack, a nervous smile on his face.
“Okay, that’s some trick.” Darren squeaked. “Copperfield doesn’t have anything on you. So, when does the illusion end?”
Jack frowned. “Give me a little more credit, Darren. I’m not just some cut-rate magician. You don’t just look and sound like a child, you [I]are[/I] a child. And you’re going to remain that way until the lesson is complete.”
“That’s impossible!” Darren shouted, as though trying to make himself believe it. “Stop the hocus pocus and get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”
Jack stared at him for a moment before standing up and stepping in front of Darren, who was suddenly more scared than he had ever been in his entire life. The man he had stood eye level with a few minutes ago now towered over him, looking down on the frightened child with a wolf’s smile.
“What exactly makes you think you’re in charge here?” Jack asked as he deliberately leaned over and brought his face close to Darren’s. “I’m the adult, and you will do what I say. Got it?”
Snarling, Darren reared back and popped Jack in the chin, sure that a well-placed blow would break the illusion once and for all. When he saw Jack smirk, unfazed by the pathetic punch, Darren was instantly overcome with an enlightening despair that paralyzed him from head to toe.
“You’ve got quite a right hook there, kiddo.” Jack laughed, rubbing his chin playfully. “What say we get you some new clothes, champ?”
Without another word, Jack pointed at Darren with one hand and, with the other, snapped his fingers. Instantly, Darren’s clothes vanished, only to reappear in Jack’s hands in a near pile. It took Darren a second to realize what had happened, feeling nothing but a slight breeze as his clothes were assumed off of his body. Instinctively, Darren looked down, clamping a hand over his mouth and choking back sobs as he caught sight of the tiny, immature organ that innocently poked out from between his legs. Jack openly chuckled at Darren’s dismay as the humiliated little boy clasped his hands over his groin and glared at his tormentor with angry, betrayed eyes that seemed ready to burst into tears.
“Don’t worry, Darren. I’m not cruel enough to make you go around naked.” Jake condescendingly reassured. His expression suddenly growing somber and serious, Jack raised Darren’s adult clothes into the air and closed his eyes, furiously whispering unheard commands to some unseen entity.
Before Darren’s wide, frightened eyes, the mature clothes began to shrink and squirm into those more appropriate for a young boy. The oxford shirt thickened and was overcome with colorful, wooly fuzz as it became a festive Christmas sweater, and his khakis appeared to be dyed blue from within as they contracted and became a small pair of jeans. The socks simply became child-sized while his red boxers contracted into themselves, becoming a pair of pint-sized briefs as the color bleached away from nearly every part of the garment, leaving only bright red trim on the waist, legs and y-front.
Jack slowly opened his eyes and lowered his hands, offering the clothes to Darren with a kind smile on his face. Darren stared incredulously at Jack for a second, wondering if he seriously wanted him to put on the childish pieces. Jack just kept looking at him with that warm, inviting expression, which gave Darren his answer. Scowling, Darren snatched the clothes out of Jack’s hands and quickly pressed them against his body, trying to limit his nudity as much as possible.
“Could I get a little privacy?” Darren sharply requested. Jack flashed him a toothy smile before turning in the other direction, staring out the window while Darren threw on his new clothes, grumbling and fuming as he did so. After a few moments, Jack heard Darren close the zipper on his pants, turning around just in time to see him close the button on the jeans and finish dressing. Jack had the physically hold back a laugh as Darren put his hands on his hips glowered at his roommate, the boy’s menace undercut somewhat by his downy Christmas tree sweater.
“Aren’t you adorable.” Jack gushed. “Now, don’t think I gussied you up in these clothes just because you look so cute in them. You need to learn that you’ve been acting like a spoiled child. And if you’re going to act like a child, you’re going to be treated like a child.”
Darren opened his mouth to indignantly counter that claim before stopping himself, suddenly struck by the importance of what Jack had just said. Jack’s going through all this trouble just to teach me a lesson?, Darren thought. Self-righteous prick. Still, if I don’t play along, he might decide to never change me back. That notion echoed in Darren’s mind and chilled him to his core. He had barely begun to enjoy college and, unless he played his cards right, he might not get to experience it again for another ten years or so.
All these thoughts raced through Darren’s brain in the span of a couple seconds, his eyes shifting in deliberation as he considered his options. Jack cocked his head as Darren seemed to come to a conclusion, clearing his throat and looking directly into his roommate’s eyes.
“Okay.” Darren sighed, defeated. “What do you want me to do?”
New York City Boy
by: nico | Complete Story | Last updated Dec 19, 2007
Stories of Age/Time Transformation