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“Drift.” The psychologist’s voice was so soothing, so easy to fall into. You had practiced this trigger for weeks before this session. The stuffy office park room fell away as your mind plunged into darkness. Stars sparkled in the distance. Each one held some facet of the waking world being ignored. This was a place to relax, focus, and drift along the currents of one’s mind.
The doctor had suggested hypnosis might be a solid treatment for your stress. Everything had piled up at once, work, home, family, friends jumbled up in a car crash of calamity. Still, here you could relax and breath. Here you could fly. That thought popped up into your brain. It had a strange synesthesia taste and feel, not one native to your own mind. This had to have come from the therapist. He must be out there in the above world asking you to fly through the fears and worries. Easy enough in here.
You spread your wings in a great cacophony of fire. It brightens up the space of nothingness and revealed a landscape below. You were indeed flying on the inferno, soaring over streets and tiny ant humans. It made you feel powerful. You let out a screaming caw, taking on the aspect of a firebird. This world of your mind could be anything.
So many of life’s worries seemed small from above. Humans, puppets of your subconscious, fought and struggled in the streets. Tulpa of family joined the fray in a fracas most convoluted. This was stress. This was also nothing to you now. A beat of the wing soared you further along the dream-space. You needed tail feathers to guide along the thermals. They sprouted in at your will. This world felt so malleable.
The strange thought struck again. Therapy. Something about the therapy session. Panic? Worry? Those were far off constructs of another, meat shelled mind. However, there was still a tugging. You soared back toward the city. The path was instinct. Flying over the turmoil, past the bridge, over the concrete meadow and through the telephone poll woods. There was the doctor’s office. Your mind amazingly constructed the building from scratch!
Winging upward, you found the room for the hypnosis session. A short, brass poll jutted outward from the window ledge. Inside, your therapist was screaming and waving their arms. Strangely no sound made it through the window. Your body seized on the couch in violent spasms.
“That can’t be good.” You chirp, suddenly noticing your mouth was a beak. Odd. You had only wanted wings and the tail. Your reflection in the glass, however, was an entirely normal hawk. You stared into that reflection in shock. This was not the powerful firebird form you had practiced! The image winked.
“Sorry chap, but there is some trouble brewing up in the waking world. Going to need to borrow that body of yours for a while. A few weeks, maybe a month, a year tops!” The reflection bird chirped, taking flight. The glass warped, allowing the thing to enter the room with your body. In desperation you tried to follow but your beak rammed into the glass.
The reflection hawk swooped and fluttered over your human body, not quite real or unreal. Its ghostly silhouette dived down into your chest, right at the stomach. You reflexively shuttered your feathers as the claws dug deep and vanished. The bird dove into the body like it was a pond of water, the seizures masking any ripples.
From outside you could only watch. The spasms grew worse. Your therapist was panicking more. You just could not hear what they were saying. It had to be the trigger word to wake you from the trance. Something blocked all sound. The other hawk had to be responsible. Human eyes fluttered open. Your raptor ones could make out the color from some distance. They were no longer yours but some entity with bright, golden fire in their eyes. Your body stood from the table. The therapist backed up in shock. The thing wearing your skin waved a hand, and they fell to the floor. For a second you thought the thing had killed him, but they still breathed. The monster in your flesh turned to you now and winked.
Feathers burst out from your human skin. You could feel it, even through the glass. It itched like mad, and you uselessly batted with your wings trying to sooth it. All of that paled in comparison to the beak. It felt like hot pliers grabbed your nose and pulled outwards. The skin hardened into a solid, hooked beak. You clack yours, trying not to feel. Anything to separate yourself form the changes.
More feathers coated down your arms. Huge ones, outlining new wings. At least you kept your hands, or at least some vestige. They flexed and stretched, sprouting into talons. The skin grew yellow and pebbly until it disappeared into the ruff of feathers. The thing in your body stretched, flexed its wings, and tore off any vestiges of your former shirt. It no longer needed them with the plumage.
“Relax, this world’s your fantasy! When it comes time, I’ll tell you the code word and you can have the body back. Might want to practice up with flying while you can!” The creature gathered up your wallet, and that of your therapist. It took out all the money, pocketed it, and walked out on its strange hawk-human feet.
What did it mean practice? Your body wasn’t going to be stuck that way was it? The questions burned in your brain, but no amount of focus could let you follow that monster’s trail. Whatever it did with your body in the real world, there was nothing you could do.
You flew.
The doctor had suggested hypnosis might be a solid treatment for your stress. Everything had piled up at once, work, home, family, friends jumbled up in a car crash of calamity. Still, here you could relax and breath. Here you could fly. That thought popped up into your brain. It had a strange synesthesia taste and feel, not one native to your own mind. This had to have come from the therapist. He must be out there in the above world asking you to fly through the fears and worries. Easy enough in here.
You spread your wings in a great cacophony of fire. It brightens up the space of nothingness and revealed a landscape below. You were indeed flying on the inferno, soaring over streets and tiny ant humans. It made you feel powerful. You let out a screaming caw, taking on the aspect of a firebird. This world of your mind could be anything.
So many of life’s worries seemed small from above. Humans, puppets of your subconscious, fought and struggled in the streets. Tulpa of family joined the fray in a fracas most convoluted. This was stress. This was also nothing to you now. A beat of the wing soared you further along the dream-space. You needed tail feathers to guide along the thermals. They sprouted in at your will. This world felt so malleable.
The strange thought struck again. Therapy. Something about the therapy session. Panic? Worry? Those were far off constructs of another, meat shelled mind. However, there was still a tugging. You soared back toward the city. The path was instinct. Flying over the turmoil, past the bridge, over the concrete meadow and through the telephone poll woods. There was the doctor’s office. Your mind amazingly constructed the building from scratch!
Winging upward, you found the room for the hypnosis session. A short, brass poll jutted outward from the window ledge. Inside, your therapist was screaming and waving their arms. Strangely no sound made it through the window. Your body seized on the couch in violent spasms.
“That can’t be good.” You chirp, suddenly noticing your mouth was a beak. Odd. You had only wanted wings and the tail. Your reflection in the glass, however, was an entirely normal hawk. You stared into that reflection in shock. This was not the powerful firebird form you had practiced! The image winked.
“Sorry chap, but there is some trouble brewing up in the waking world. Going to need to borrow that body of yours for a while. A few weeks, maybe a month, a year tops!” The reflection bird chirped, taking flight. The glass warped, allowing the thing to enter the room with your body. In desperation you tried to follow but your beak rammed into the glass.
The reflection hawk swooped and fluttered over your human body, not quite real or unreal. Its ghostly silhouette dived down into your chest, right at the stomach. You reflexively shuttered your feathers as the claws dug deep and vanished. The bird dove into the body like it was a pond of water, the seizures masking any ripples.
From outside you could only watch. The spasms grew worse. Your therapist was panicking more. You just could not hear what they were saying. It had to be the trigger word to wake you from the trance. Something blocked all sound. The other hawk had to be responsible. Human eyes fluttered open. Your raptor ones could make out the color from some distance. They were no longer yours but some entity with bright, golden fire in their eyes. Your body stood from the table. The therapist backed up in shock. The thing wearing your skin waved a hand, and they fell to the floor. For a second you thought the thing had killed him, but they still breathed. The monster in your flesh turned to you now and winked.
Feathers burst out from your human skin. You could feel it, even through the glass. It itched like mad, and you uselessly batted with your wings trying to sooth it. All of that paled in comparison to the beak. It felt like hot pliers grabbed your nose and pulled outwards. The skin hardened into a solid, hooked beak. You clack yours, trying not to feel. Anything to separate yourself form the changes.
More feathers coated down your arms. Huge ones, outlining new wings. At least you kept your hands, or at least some vestige. They flexed and stretched, sprouting into talons. The skin grew yellow and pebbly until it disappeared into the ruff of feathers. The thing in your body stretched, flexed its wings, and tore off any vestiges of your former shirt. It no longer needed them with the plumage.
“Relax, this world’s your fantasy! When it comes time, I’ll tell you the code word and you can have the body back. Might want to practice up with flying while you can!” The creature gathered up your wallet, and that of your therapist. It took out all the money, pocketed it, and walked out on its strange hawk-human feet.
What did it mean practice? Your body wasn’t going to be stuck that way was it? The questions burned in your brain, but no amount of focus could let you follow that monster’s trail. Whatever it did with your body in the real world, there was nothing you could do.
You flew.
Category Story / Transformation
Species Hawk
Gender Any
Size 115 x 120px
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