The first thing I saw when I woke up was a picture frame. It was big, 70X100 , and standing on some kind of
alter. The frame contained a picture, probably recent, of some guy I never met before with slicked back black
hair. He was young and handsome in an old Hollywood kind of way. The room I was in reminded me of those
shrines that crazy people make in the back of their closets. It was mostly dark, with what I assumed were
candles providing the only luminescence sitting somewhere behind me. The room looked well furnished. Red
velvet lined the walls and plush red carpeting covered the floor. I could tell since I wasn't wearing any
shoes. I tried to speak out loud, but my mouth was covered in duct tape. I attempted to move, but surprise
surprise, my hands and feet wee bound by rope to the chair. I could at least turn my head though. I'm part of
a semi circle with four other guys, also tied up to chairs, also with duct tape over their mouths. All them
are awake, seemingly resigned to their fate as kidnapping victims, for none of them were putting up any kind
of a struggle.
“Great, Sleepy Head is awake” I heard a woman's voice say. She had been behind me, out of my line of sight the
entire time, which disturbed me greatly. If I was going to be a victim of a serial killer, at least it be a
male serial killer. She stepped forward, past, me, into the center of the room.
The woman looked great for her age, which I guessed was her fifties judging by her taste in clothing and the
wrinkles on her face, which admittedly were hard to see behind her makeup. She her long, thick black hair
draped across her shoulders and forehead, and she was barefoot like I was(and, I noted, the other kidnapping
victims as well).
“My name is Esmeralda Kirke. I'm very sorry for abducting you all. I'll do whatever I can to accommodate your
needs. Hopefully, we can all look back on this one day and have a good laugh about it” announced Esmeralda.
Her voice was calm and sweet, with no hint of malice or madness in it. That disturbed me even more.
“This”, she pointed to the photograph, “is my son. His name is Adam. He's a great boy. Rich, smart, funny,
compassionate...he's going to make someone very happy someday. I know he's made me and his father happy.”
She smiled.
“Now, I know that each of are wondering why you are here. You're here because of a ritual prophecy that's has
been running in my family for a very long time, and the Fates have chosen each of you to be elements for the
ritual. I've tried. I've really, really tried to avoid having to do this, but it's impossible. We are but but
playthings for the gods! The English translation of the prophecy goes like this: “Four wives for one husband,
in every third generation . Two will be petite, two will be tall, one will be gorgeous above the rest, and one
not at all. Four wives for one husband, that's the way things ought to be, and if you have something to say
about it, you'll just have to find the key!”
“You've each been injected with a slow acting potion, due to fully metabolize in each of your bodies in eleven
days. Every day for these next eleven days, you'll all gain certain new traits. Your skin will become smoother
one day, and the next your voice will crack an octave. For every day of these eleven days, you'll
incrementally become more slender, more graceful, more beautiful, more feminine until, on the last day, all
but one of you will be young ladies suitable enough to marry my son.”
OK, this is officially like Saw.
“You all might be asking yourselves, why didn't I just kidnap a bunch of women instead? It's because men
understand how to best pleasure another man. It's been said that a woman's prerogative is to care for her man,
and her children, but I'm of the mind that that's all socially constructed nonsense. Take a man, make him a
woman, and she'll instantly understand both. And vice versa, of course. I should know since I've dabbled in a
being a man before.”
The guy two chairs down from mine suddenly gave a very WTF look with his eyes when she said that.
“I'm a sorceress, gentlemen. I can do lots of things. Witness.”
Esmeralda snapped her fingers, and suddenly we were released. I ran out of the room first, through a bunch of
other rooms of what looked like a very expensive house, and out the front door...
Who's story do we follow?
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