Altered Fates: The Hit Man' By Ran Dandel

[Burke_Rakers]

Another obscure piece I loved years ago, but haven't noticed archived anywhere.

Altered Fates: The Hit Man' By Ran Dandel

I couldn’t believe my good fortune. After countless hours following-up various leads, rumors, and downright lies, I reached my goal. I had located the fabled Medallion of Zulo. This prize would ensure my reputation, and insure that I would reach the pinnacle of my chose career.

When I finally found it, I was almost disappointed to discover that it looked very ordinary. In fact, it looked almost like a piece of cheap, flea-market junk jewelry. It had the dull, silvery look of some kind of pot metal, with a badly-molded figure on one side. It was suspended from an equally cheap-looking chain.

It took much longer to find than I’d anticipated because the Medallion seemed to have its own agenda. It seemed to move on after a time from person to person. Sometimes, I would arrive seemingly seconds after it had moved on. Other times, I’d arrive to a stone cold trail, and have to start working on it again.

My searches had to be done between jobs. As a freelancer, I had to make sure my income stream was steady, so I couldn’t turn down the jobs that were sent my way. In fact, if I did, I’d soon find myself out of work…permanently. You see, I’m a contract enforcer. When someone is in breach of one of my superiors’ contracts, I’m called on to enforce it. Sometimes, I have to invoke the penalty clause.

With the medallion, I could become the best in the business. It would also make sure I could leave my kind of work with my hide intact. We really don’t have good retirement benefits.



"Big Ben" Mulligan was a courier who carried important documents between the heads of different divisions of the "Corporation". He’d be given an envelope of one size or another, and be expected to deliver it within a certain time. He was also not supposed to become interested in what was in that envelope. He did, though…one too many times. That was a breach of contract between him and his superiors. I was called in to exercise the penalty clause.

Since "Big Ben" knew of the penalty clause, he was extremely wary. He’d make it hard to get close to so that I could explain the situation. >From the information I’d received about Ben, I knew where he liked to hang out. I also knew that such a place was too public for me to work as myself. This job called for the Medallion.

I’d found out when he’d be hanging out at Chico’s, a local bar and dance club. The number of people who’d be there made Ben feel very comfortable, but even so, if he saw me, he’d bolt. I started preparations more than twelve hours before I went to meet Ben.

From my research, I found out that the Medallion would change you into someone else. All you had to do was wear the Medallion and then touch it to a piece of clothing that the other person had worn. In about a half hour, the change would be complete. You couldn’t change back for twelve hours, which is why I started early. I wanted to change back soon after my "discussion" with Ben.

My preparations started with laying out all of the clothing I’d need for the change. At first glance, it looked rather odd on my bed, but these clothes were my "battle dress" for the evening. Since it was my first time, I steeled myself for what I thought would be an ordeal.

I stripped to the buff and put on the Medallion. I reached over to the bed, and steeling myself, touched an article of the clothing to the Medallion. I felt a small electric shock from the Medallion, and then a tingling in my body. The changes quickly started becoming noticeable.

My first indication was a tickling in my scalp. As I watched the process in the mirror for the first time, I saw my hair growing out. Even the bald spots near the front were filling out. As it grew, my hair changed from its black coloring to a light brown.

I could feel my face start to rearrange itself. My cheekbones moved upward, and my jawline became smoother. My heavy five o’clock shadow lightened and disappeared, as my skin became silky-smooth. I was surprised by a slight blurring of my vision that quickly went away. When I next looked, my eyes had changed from their normal dark brown to a much lighter one. My lips became more full as my small mouth widened. I opened it and saw my teeth had become much whiter and were all very straight.

The feelings moved down my body, and I saw and felt myself change. New breasts pushed out as my waist pulled in. My hips and butt went out and my old sex went in. I then felt my legs change as they smoothed out into new contours.

When the changes finally stopped, I took stock of myself in the mirror. I was now a young, sexy woman with medium large breasts, narrow waist, and a sexily shaped tummy. My hips were well proportioned and my new behind matched. My new legs were my best feature. I selected these clothes because their original owner was a looker, and had really great legs. In fact, she was the perfect type for hosiery ads and TV commercials. Just the type for "Big Ben".

I did some stretches and exercises to get used to my new body. Its flexibility was astounding to me. I could bend down and touch my face to my knees, do easy splits, and even raise one leg next to my head while still standing on the other.

I couldn’t help but get turned on a little, as I saw myself in the mirror, but I resisted the temptation for now. There’d be time to "explore" later.

I put on a pair of sweats and some sneaks, and went into the back of my basement apartment. There, I had a small range, where I tried out new weapons. With work I’d done on the walls and ceiling, my neighbors couldn’t hear the reports of the guns as I tried them out. With my new form, I’d have to get used to handling different weapons.

An hour later, I had the one I needed. It was smaller than I usually liked to use, but since I was now smaller, it would have to do. The .22 Magnum rounds would compensate for the small bore. I went back upstairs to the bathroom and showered.

I have an excellent memory, and from having watched my many girlfriends over the years I knew how to shave my armpits and legs. I even had to shave my pubic hair, since it was so full. After the shower, I applied lotion and some powder, as I’d seen my girlfriends do.

Getting dressed was a new experience, with the feelings the different textures of the panties, bra, and pantyhose gave me. As I dressed, though, I suddenly realized that I was putting on my clothes with few problems. I even had no problems fastening the bra at the back. Apparently, some of the clothing’s original owner’s thought patterns were imprinted on my mind as my body changed.

I turned to the other articles I’d purchased for that night’s job, and without thinking, I found myself applying a light coat of makeup on my face. Finishing off, I put on a blue suit with a white blouse. Low heels were on my feet. I didn’t want to struggle with high heels yet.

When I was done, I looked like a young businesswoman. Attractive, sexy, yet very professional.

I packed a small overnight bag with the cosmetics, some articles of clothing, and a few other odds and ends I’d need. I grabbed a purse I’d purchased and checked inside.

The wallet and ID were perfect, and I made sure I had several hundred in cash, for emergencies and such.

I picked up the overnight bag and went into the foyer of my apartment. I phoned for a cab, and then went outside to wait for it. The super, cleaning the sidewalk of the building eyed me appreciatively, while keeping an eye out for the safety of the young woman before him.

The cab arrived, and I directed him to take me to a nice hotel near Chico’s. This would be the scene of tonight’s little morality play.

When I got to the hotel, I checked in. Since I planned on staying only one night, I paid cash. I collected a receipt and put it into a day-planner, just like a visiting businesswoman, and went to my room. I checked the time, and saw I had several hours yet. I put in a wake-up call for a few hours later, stripped, got in bed, and napped. I’d need to be at full awareness later.

When I woke up, I got dressed in an outfit that was hardly businesslike. It consisted of a short, dark skirt, and a golden blouse. I didn’t wear a bra with this outfit, since I wanted to make a maximum impression. Again, I realized that my fears of getting everything put on properly didn’t materialize. My body seemed to know exactly how to arrange each piece of clothing. The same for the cosmetics. The result was a stunning little sex kitten, looking ready to prowl. A spritz of perfume, and I was ready.

As I put on a pair of very high heels (to my thought), I hoped I’d be able to walk in them. I did, with very little wobbling. The body to the rescue again. Then time to go.

I called down for a cab, threw on a jacket that matched the skirt, and went out to my "appointment" with "Big Ben".

When I arrived at Chico’s, I found that "Big Ben" was already there. Going to the bar, I sat on a stool, making sure I was angled just right for him to see a generous amount of leg. As I waited for him to react, I ordered a white wine.

Sipping the wine slowly, I looked around. The place was full of young men and women unwinding after their day’s work. It was a typical meat market, where each was trying to find a match that might work. I even turned down a few men interested in me, or at least my body.

The body did its work, however, because "Big Ben" finally came over. After a bit of small talk, I wound up at his table. He put his arm around me, and I found that I had to concentrate hard to allow it. It was a new experience to have a man’s arm around me in such a familiar manner. I fended off the few attempts he made to feel my breasts, and moved a hand when it moved too far up my thigh. I hinted to him that Chico’s was not quite the place for this.

When he asked me what I had planned for the rest of the evening, I suggested that we go to my room for a few more drinks and conversation. He eagerly took the hint, and waved the waitress over so he could pay the tab. We went outside and called a cab.

While we were waiting outside, he kept a wary eye out. He made sure he wasn’t in direct light, nor outlined against the door. I acted like I didn’t notice this, and just kept by his side.

When the cab arrived, he made sure it was empty, and carefully looked at the driver before he opened the door to help me in. I told the driver my hotel, and off we went.

At the hotel, I took him straight to my room. We opened a bottle of wine from the mini-bar, and started to drink and talk. Soon, though, "Big Ben" wanted to play other games. I grabbed a few filmy items out of the overnight bag, and went into the bathroom. I told him that I had to change into something more comfortable, so he should get ready and be in the bed when I came out. I hoped I’d used a sexy walk while I was doing this.

I stripped down and put on a teddy. While I was doing this, I listened carefully to hear what "Big Ben" was doing. I could hear him taking off his clothes and then getting into the bed. I waited a few minutes more, added a touch more perfume, and inwardly gritting my teeth, went into the room.

"Big Ben" stared at me with wide-eyed wonder. He made a few comments about how great I looked, and invited me into the bed for "the ride of my life". I made a sweet smile and told him I had something special for him. I went to the overnight bag and took out my silenced .22 automatic. Two "pops" later, and "Big Ben" had two more eyes in his forehead.

I removed the teddy, and got dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and sneaks. I left everything in the room, except for my money and a room key.

I went to the elevator and took it to another floor. There, I went down the hall to another room and went inside. There, I opened the overnight bag on the bed, and took out some new articles of clothing. I also took out the Medallion. I’d planned this carefully, and the Medallion would work on me again.

I stripped, looked at this body one more time in the mirror, and then put on the Medallion. I touched a new article of clothing to the Medallion and waited for the changes.

This time, I’d chosen someone who would be really noticed. I transformed into an over-endowed blond with ice-blue eyes. I was an immediate advertisement for sin. Again, I was a bit surprised that I somehow knew how to dress and apply makeup to my face, though this time, it was a bit heavy and garish, like something you’d find on a showgirl…or a hooker. No matter, it only had to last long enough for me to get home.

I packed the overnight bag, and left the room. I went to the front desk and checked out. Since I’d paid cash earlier in the day, I only had to drop off the key and pick up the receipt.

I walked out of the hotel, and went down the street to a bus stop and waited on the bench for the bus. I wanted the bus this time so the cab company would have no connections with anybody going back to my place from the hotel. It soon arrived, but as I was getting on, a large man stopped me. He pulled me aside, and down the street a bit.

"Ginger! Where have you been? I’ve looked all over town for you, and now I find you at this hotel? What have you been doing. And where’s my money?"

With that, he grabbed my purse and started going through it. When other people looked our way to see what was going on, his angry glares made them move on.

He soon found the several hundred dollars I had with me. He took it out and counted it. Before I could react to this, he hauled off and punched me in the gut. I folded over his fist with the pain. Two more punches put me on my knees.

"You’ve been gone, what, two whole days and you only have six hundred, forty to show for it? Shit, girl, I oughta show you you can’t do that to me…but since I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you owe me the rest. I expect you to have another six hundred by tomorrow, or you’ll really make me mad! Now get out there and get to work….And don’t try running out on me again!"

With a brutal shove, he pushed me hard enough that I fell on my knees, skinning them. I felt a rage starting to build, but I didn’t have a weapon, so I just gritted my teeth and said I’d have everything he had coming the next time I saw him.

As I shakily stood up, he gave me a few more slaps to emphasize his point, and then noticed the chain around my neck. Grabbing it, he jerked it off my neck. Looking closely at the medallion, he said, "What’s this? Have you been spending my money on cheap shit like this? Just for that, you can’t keep it," and he threw it into the street, where it fell down a grate. He then grabbed the front of my blouse with one hand and started slapping back and forth across the face with the other. I was nearly unconscious from the blows.

Soon after he started hitting me again, he suddenly stopped and raised both of his hands to shoulder level with them open and palms out. I heard a harsh voice call out, "Police! Freeze!"

While one officer stood back with a hand on his gun, the other used his radio to call in. Soon several other officers surrounded us. They told us we were under arrest, gave us a quick frisk, cuffed us, and took us off to the station.

There, I learned that my attacker, one Carl Bennett, was wanted for a murder, and that I, Christina "Ginger" Smythe, was wanted as an accomplice. Apparently, the girl whose body I now wore was a hooker who’d helped her boyfriend roll an occasional trick. She’d watched while he killed a man because he threatened to turn them in.

There was no way to prove who I once was, and even if I could, I’d still go to jail for the "work" I’d been doing the past several years. Fortunately, for me, they’d never find the bodies of the girls whose identities I’d stolen.

The trial was quick. There was substantial evidence against both of us, and my defense attorney had little to do, except make sure my rights weren’t violated. Carlo received thirty to life, and I got twenty to thirty. We were both taken away to prison.

That was twenty-two years ago. Physically, I’m now in my late forties, with the hardened look a long-timer gets. I adapted all right to women’s prison, since with my looks, I was the girl of choice with the women who were the boss inmates. Because of my body, I’ve been the girlfriend of one or the other of the boss women. I was never physically strong enough, though, to become one of those bosses. My last few years have been hard as my looks faded.

When I never showed up at my apartment, the police were eventually called to serve an eviction notice for late rent. Since they couldn’t find me, they wound up searching the place. They found my safety-deposit box keys and got a friendly judge to order the box opened so that they could try to find me. They found notes on all of my "jobs" and my hidden stash of a half-million in cash.

That started a nationwide manhunt for me. I even got profiled on "America’s Most Wanted" twice. My notes resulted in the convictions of several crime bosses and a "breach of contract" enforcement action on me. My cash got confiscated.

Of course, they couldn’t know I was already in prison, and I wasn’t about to open my mouth. Nobody would believe me if I did, and would toss me in a mental ward. If they did somehow believe me, it would be more hard time until somebody got to me. The bosses can reach into prisons, if they want.

I’ve adjusted somewhat to who I’ve become while in prison, but don’t know anything about living outside as a woman. I’m nearly seventy, and my body’s forty-seven. Where does that take me now? What’ll a jailbird like me find on the outside? My old life, such as it was, is lost. My money? Lost. Look at me, and you’ll see an old hooker who’s been used too many times. I guess I got what I deserved. The Medallion saw to that.


THE END