By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Slayerangel

Darian Mitchell is a depressed young man with zero prospects and a hidden desire to be a woman. Struggling with a toxic family and an uncaring girlfriend, Darian’s life changes when he receives a fantasy novel that seems far, far too real. In fact, Darian begins to find himself transported into this other world, where he is a gorgeous redheaded princess named Dinah. But as reality starts to become uncertain, which world will he choose? And which life?

First Parts

Previous Part

The Princess I Was Meant To Be

Chapter 6: Escape

I woke up in a terror. Well, ‘woke up.’ More like ‘exited the book.’ Someone burst through the door and for a moment I was terrified that it was a guardsman coming to kill me. My heart was beating like crazy in my chest, but I was quickly able to realise my surroundings in the living room thanks to having left the lamp on earlier.

“Woahhh,” the figure who had just entered moaned in a drunken fashion. “What are you still doing up? It’s like 3am, hot stuff. I’ve been partying like crazy and you’ve just been sitting here reading your little virgin book? Like, what’s up with that?”

My vision cleared, and the figure manifested as Selina. She was wearing that slinky red dress that she’d first seduced me with two years ago, the same red dress that I’d imagined more than once what it would be like to wear and feel against softer skin. 

“Selina?” I said, my voice croaking. Ugh, it sounded so wrong. So . . . male. I’d been young, beautiful Princess Dinah for two weeks, and it appeared like only a matter of hours had passed, roughly six or so in this world. And yet . . . it was so strange being male again. There were no fleshy weights upon my chest, and my ass felt kinda flat. My hair was basically nonexistent compared to Dinah’s, and this was to say nothing of how big my body was! How cumbersome and damn tired it was. All my youthful energy was gone, leaving me as an exhausted man in his thirties. I could feel my penis between my legs, and while it was a small relief, another part of me felt like it wasn’t a relief at all.

“Yes, Selina!” the woman said. “Selina, Selina, Selina. Wowww, you say it like you’re so not into me. You should have been out there tonight, we were having a lot of fun. I wouldn’t have minded my boyfriend instead of the others around me. Mind you, I had some sexy times anyway, hee hee!”

She grabbed me and kissed me, but I forced her lips off of mine. A bunch of things fell into place, and an almost murderous anger rose up inside of me.

“How could I not have seen it? She’s you. You’re her. You’re Mirya.”

She snorted. “Is this, like, one of your lame fantasy novels. C’mon, take me to bed. I want you, sexy. And you know I’ll take you places. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

The betrayer. The one I trusted. The one who turned on me. Mirya was the version of Selina in that other reality; the lover who tricked me again and again.

Well, no more tricking.

“I’m not in the mood, Selina.”

“C’mon! I’ll tell everyone you raped me if you don’t.”

“I said no. And I’m fucking recording this right now.”

Instantly, her hand was swiping out, her talon-like nails ready to rake across my face. I caught her hand just in time and forced her back.

“Go to fucking bed, Selina. We’ll talk in the morning.”

She huffed and groaned like a child, stomping her feet as she went to bed. I could hear her smashing things a minute later, and then the sounds simply stopped and her snoring began. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if she’d destroyed half of my book shelf, in fact. I’d just gone through a sequence of life and death. I’d watched people die in front of me. And frankly, this woman had betrayed me twice in two different lives.

I wasn’t giving in to her any longer.

***

The first chance I got, I was back into the book. I was nervous, my heart pounding. I’d put on my warpaint, though the blonde wig just didn’t seem to suit. The texture was all wrong. I’d put aside some money for some better dress orders - some real ren faire stuff that would suit a sort of pre-read Dinah cosplay - but that would take a while to arrive. At least the wig wasn’t far away. My real triumph was my makeup: I’d even dared to go to work with a bit of foundation and natural-looking lipsticks, not to mention the most subtle shadowy contours around my eyes. A few of my coworkers had looked twice at me, but surprisingly I’d also received compliments from the female contingent: Sharon had called me ‘vibrant’, while Leah said I “looked so much younger!” and asked if I’d started a skincare routine. I admitted I didn’t know much but was trying to wade in, and she actually came and gave me some pointers on my usually lonely lunch break! 

It gave me such a rush of confidence that I knew I had to go into the book again. Selina didn’t seem to remember how I’d stood up to her the previous night, but she wasn’t exactly happy with me, either. She seemed to sense that something had changed between us, and told me that she needed to stay elsewhere tonight. For the first time, I was actually relieved to hear that, though I didn’t tell her that. I knew this was a negotiating tactic, a way to make me miss her. Maybe this time I wouldn’t be pathetic enough to let it work.

So there I was, in my war makeup. My battle-face. My eyeliner applied, the eyeshadow with a subtle shade of green to match how my eyes looked ‘on the other side,’ not to mention some nice red lipstick. I was even wearing a bra, though just a small one, beneath my shirt, and though I knew I was perhaps going too far with that, I couldn’t resist since ordering one with a better band for my bigger ribcage. It was actually comfortable, and that helped me slip into a further state of preparedness.

“Okay Dinah,” I told myself, using my other name. “You can do this. It’s the start of your journey, not the end. This is an adventure fantasy novel, you were naive to think you could have just secured your position as the heir to Varkath without there being some great plot. It’s the Shards of Freedom: A Princess’s Journey, not The Anticlimactic Story of How a Monarchy Smoothly Transitions to the Next Generation. You need to escape and regroup. Find some allies. Find justice and revenge, if need be! Especially on Mirya. Ugh, how did I not see that she was Selina? Don’t think about that. Think about escape. Think about how to survive. God, I hope the danger isn’t real in that world.”

I considered that again for the umpteenth time, that I might well be risking my life for real. It . . . wasn’t beyond possibility. In fact, I was increasingly certain that Varkath wasn’t just a fictional tale I was being propelled into, but an actual reality that happened to parallel my own in parts. Or was, perhaps, even created by the act of reading this book. Which meant that if a crossbow bolt hit me . . .

I shuddered to think of death. But then again, hadn’t I been ready for death not too long ago? Hadn’t I been right upon the edge of that bridge before Tila the Wandering Witch saved me with some unexpected words and a strange proposal? With that in mind, I steeled myself. I had faced death before in the face of hopelessness. Well, now I had hope, and something to fight for. It made death scarier, but it gave me a much better reason to face it.

I opened the book.

‘All was blood and carnage and chaos and nightmares. Everywhere there were screams, and it took a moment for Dinah to realise that much of it was coming from herself. Handmaidens who had served her loyal lay dead upon the floor. Lord Gregory, a loyal supporter and good man, was clutching his neck as his red coat turned all the more crimson. Orders came from above for another fatal barrage, and all Dinah could do was run like a coward straight for the doors, and hope that no one had locked them. She knew they would be locked. Any such trap would leave them locked.

And yet they opened . . .’

***

I was Dinah again, and I was in mid-run. I stumbled down the steps, taking a moment to familiarise myself with my body, with the weights upon my chest and the greater width of my hips and the lack of strength in my form. My hair briefly covered my face and I had to sweep it away. I grabbed my tiara as it dangled off the side of my head and continued to run. The sounds of murder and horror echoed behind me, and more orders were being shouted.

“Who unbarred the doors? Get out there now! The Traitor Princess must be found!”

In my confusion I couldn’t even tell if it was Robyn or Drusilla or even King Alaric himself who shouted those words. All I knew was that it was definitely a member of my ghastly family. 

“Oh God!” I cried, hitching up my skirts. I wasn’t so strong, and definitely not able to jog for long in this body. My thighs already ached from the effort as I ran past the maze garden. I had no idea where to go, only that I had to keep running. Screams continued to echo from behind me, but they were falling increasingly dim and silent, and lights were streaming out of the chamber. Dawn was coming, but there was still enough darkness to stay out of sight for now. But numbers would soon overwhelm me.

“Think, Dinah, think!”

But there was nothing to think about, no plan. I didn’t know the full layout of the palace, and even if I did, I needed to escape the palace itself. And one thing was clear to me from my two full weeks in this reality; Princess Dinah had never left the actual palace grounds except on brief diplomatic visits to the wide Varkath City or to significant estates. She, and by extension I, knew nothing about how to escape on foot, let alone escape capture.

“There she is! I see her!”

Suddenly I froze. Someone was running the other way; a guard with a torch light. I squeaked in fear, and began running towards the hedge maze. Oh God, this was a terrible idea. A bolt was fired over my head, and another impacted into my shoulder. I screamed immediately from the pain, which radiated outwards. It had gone right through, and the wound was very, very real.

“Oh God, I might actually die!”

More torches were appearing in the distance. I’d been spotted, and they were coming for me. My heart was practically in my throat, and when a figure lurched out from the shadows I let loose a scream that was silenced only by the hand around my mouth.

“Princess Dinah, come with me, quickly!”

My eyes widened. I could barely discern the man’s features in the dark, but I recognised that weaselly voice anywhere.

“Master Pruitt!?” I squeaked as he released his grip.

“Come,” he said, taking my hand. “We have to get you out of here. I know a way!”

He pulled me into the hedge maze, and I simply had to follow the older man as we wove and wended our way through the turns and twists of its confusing architecture.

“Where’s the princess?”

“She’s gone into the hedge maze! Find her, now! The King demands it!”

“The Queen Consort demands it,” Pruitt muttered with distaste in his mouth. His regular chamberlain’s uniform had been replaced with a dark cloak, and he wore a tricorn hat that clearly helped disguise his appearance as well. “We’re nearly there, your Highness.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He looked back at me as we made another turn, followed by a right. “Because you are the true heir to Varkath, my Lady. You have all the qualities of not just a great ruler, but a good one too. You just needed more time and training which your father didn’t give you once that Praythan witch dug her claws into him.”

“You really don’t like the Praythans, do you?”

“They are taking over our kingdom in every way but officially, your Highness. Come, the secret passage is here.”

Sure enough, at a dead end, the hedge could be swept aside to reveal a cleverly hidden hatch. Chamberlain Pruitt withdrew a key and inserted it into the lock. With a twist, he unlocked it and pried it open, revealing a ladder down into darkness.

“Here,” he said, handing me a lantern. “You must go now. It is a long passage. Listen to me; take two left turns, then a right, followed by the middle passage. I repeat: two left turns, then a right, followed by the middle passage. You will exit properly at the edge of the city. There will be a horse waiting for you; take it directly north towards the chapel in the distance. A contact is waiting for you there to take you to our allies, the Danthilds. Do you understand?”

I swallowed. I was still in so, so much pain. “I - I think I do.”

“Dear child, you’re injured.” He quickly fussed over me, checking the wound with surprising expertise. He ripped a strip of cloth from my own dress and padded the wound, which had bled all over me. “I’m sorry I cannot do much more, but I don’t believe it’s too serious.”

“It hurts.”

He gave me a comforting smile. “I know. But you are strong, Princess Dinah. I have always believed it.”

“Come with me.”

More sounds in the distance. People were approaching. 

“I can’t!” he said. “I have to remain. You will need allies inside, and I know many secrets about this castle. However long it takes, you must claim your inheritance, Princess. You must become our rightful leader.”

I nodded, taking in the weight of his words. Tears ran down my eyes; I was so emotional now as a woman, but it felt right to cry at this moment. This man was doing everything for me, and he didn’t even know that I was meant to be just some ordinary man in another world. To him, I was a beautiful and regal young woman, and that gave me strength.

“I will,” I vowed. “I promise this will be so.”

The torchlights were coming near. My wound ached just from the fear of being hit by a bolt or arrow yet again.

“Go!” he said. “Quickly!”

I went into the hatch with the lamp, and he quickly closed it after throwing his cloak and hat down. The last thing I heard was his voice shouting out loud.

“She’s not here! It’s a dead end! She must have gone around the left turn!”

“Aye, chamberlain! Men, turn about!”

And then I was in the chamber, in pain, alone, and struggling with my breath. I’d never felt so weak and alone, so small and frail. Even as a man, when I was pushed to my limit, I didn’t feel so physically weak. My breasts rose and fell, reminding me of my femaleness, while my hair, dirtied and sweaty, stuck to my forehead and continued to block my vision. My dress was torn in too many places, and I’d lost a shoe along the way, not that it would have been of any use in such a place. I threw off the other one and then broke down into sobs. God, this was one thing about being a woman I definitely wasn’t used to! So much emotion, so much feeling coursing through me. I let it out as quietly as I could, and then steadied myself. I had to leave. I had to do it quickly.

“Run, Dinah,” I told myself. “Don’t waste this chance.”

I held my lantern out in front of me and started to run. The tunnel was straightforward, but it dipped lower into the earth, and occasionally I had to slow in order to descend some stairs. After a time, however, it began to twist and turn, head in directions that made no sense to me. I had the feeling I was passing beyond the palace walls, however, and beneath Varkath City proper, because my surroundings in this narrow space started to look more concrete in its structure, more official, as if I were passing beneath the foundations of the wall, turrets, and towers. There were also rats, and it wasn’t even the fact that I was a woman now; I squealed at the sight of them because they had always frightened me.

“Two lefts, then a right . . . then another right? Wait, was it a straight, and two lefts? Shit, fuck, shit! Why didn’t I memorise it straight away.”

I could barely keep it together. I was sobbing from pain, confusion, and desperation. I took my chances taking a left, then a right, followed by a straight, then another left. My shoulder was agony, and it was getting difficult to see. I stumbled and tripped as my vision went faint, and in doing so let go of the lantern, which smashed upon the ground.

“No!” I cried, but the flame was already out, and I was bathed in darkness. I stepped forward to try and find it, only to scream as a shard of glass embedded itself in my foot.

“FUCK!” I screamed, in a very un-princess like manner.

I continued on, holding the edges of the wall. I don’t know how long I did this for, but I stumbled and tripped, I fell down a small flight of stairs, and I scraped myself to the point where I was literally having to hold my dress up to conceal my large bust. I thought that I  might die down there, and for a moment that overpass bridge seemed much more tempting.

But then . . . a light.

I moved to it like an animal, panting and heaving and letting out a bloody, primal scream of exhalation. I was free. I’d made it! 

I stumbled out of a cave entrance and into a thick forest. The branches whipped at me, the bushes and brambles tore my dress apart even further. Still I pushed on, desperate to find this horse that was waiting for me. I could barely breathe. I could barely think. Something was very wrong but I couldn’t tell what.

I finally stumbled straight into some kind of bandit camp, seeing a bunch of armed and armoured men and women gathered around a fire.

“Finally!” I declared in a weary voice. “My saviours!”

They looked at me with utter confusion and shock as I fell forward and collapsed into unconsciousness right in front of them.

To Be Continued . . .