METAMORPHOSIS - PART 2 (Patreon)

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Part 2: Red

“What are you trying to say?!” Quan Law exclaimed before realizing that this was precisely the question he himself had uttered just a minute ago.

Thalia Lee pulled a lighter from the pocket of her dress, playfully dancing the flame across her fingertips.

“It's simple! In a few minutes, you will live my life in my place, until I disappear completely!”

Quan Law couldn’t tell whether it was the sedative dulling his mind or simply his own inability to grasp the situation, but Thalia Lee’s explanation did nothing—absolutely nothing—to help him understand what he was going through.

“Damn it! I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

Thalia Lee snapped the lighter shut, enclosing it in her palm. She raised a finger to her lips, winking in a way that might have been alluring—though Quan Law swore only God Himself could make him see her that way. All he saw was an utterly dangerous woman plotting something against him.

“Tsk, tsk! While I don’t claim to be a saint, one thing’s for sure—I never curse. ‘Damn it’ is hardly the kind of language a lady should use!”

Seeing that Quan Law didn’t respond, Thalia Lee simply sat down, crossing her right leg over her left, resting her chin on her hand, and smiling at him. “Whether you understand or not doesn’t really matter.”

“The important thing is… you have no other choice.” Thalia Lee’s voice remained soft, yet each word sliced through the air like a blade.

She tossed a stack of documents onto the table. Quan Law glanced at them—identification papers, contracts, everything that proved his identity. Or rather, everything that had proven his identity just seconds ago. Because now, a single spark had already set it all ablaze.

Quan Law watched helplessly as the scene unfolded before him. The flames crawled steadily, devouring the fragile sheets of paper. Wisps of smoke curled at the edges, and the once-clear lines of text were now nothing more than charred, blackened scars.

“Now then,” she said, rising to her feet and stepping closer to him. “From this moment on, you are no longer Quan Law.”

A slender hand lifted his chin, forcing him to meet his own reflection in the mirror.

“Do you think my name is beautiful? From now on, I’m giving it to you. You will be Thalia Lee.”

The air grew thick, heavy, as if time itself had frozen. Quan Law stared at his own reflection in the mirror, his eyes wide with panic. His throat was dry, but no sound came out. He tried—desperately—to turn away, to break free from the gaze of the glass. But even the simple act of closing his eyes was denied to him. Thalia Lee held him firm, forcing him to look—slowly, deliberately—at himself.

When focusing on a fixed point in the mirror, the surrounding details may begin to blur or shift due to the adaptation of the visual nervous system. This effect is known as Troxler Fading. From this phenomenon, numerous urban legends have emerged—most famously, Bloody Mary.

Quan Law was gradually falling into that state. Yet, what he saw was not a ghostly face superimposed over his own, but Thalia Lee’s reflection staring back at him. He could vaguely sense it—Thalia Lee and he were merging. At some point, a horrifying realization struck him—his face had completely transformed into hers!

Thalia Lee stepped back and clapped her hands once. The door behind him swung open. Two women entered, their arms laden with delicate silk dresses, gleaming high heels, and intricately crafted lace lingerie.

“We’ll start with the simple things first.” Thalia Lee smiled, her voice light, yet laced with an unmistakable threat. But at this moment, Quan Law was far beyond caring. He was drowning in the illusion.

Quan Law’s lifeless eyes flicked toward the pile of clothing, and a wave of horror surged up his throat. But there was no way out. The only door to this room was the very one the two women had just entered through. And now—it had closed. No sound accompanied its movement, yet Quan Law heard it clearly. It was as if, somewhere deep in his mind, another door—identical to this one—had also slammed shut. But that one had closed with force. With finality. From this moment on, his world no longer belonged to him…

The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume—a sweetness so sharp it carried an undercurrent of coldness. The room remained sealed, silent. Only the large mirror bore witness to it all, reflecting the image of a man collapsed on the floor, his eyes wide with terror.

Quan Law still couldn’t accept what was happening.

The red silk dress was placed before him—a color that seemed to be Thalia Lee’s favorite—paired with sleek black high heels. One of the two women beside him lifted a delicate lace bra, her expression cold and indifferent, as if this were nothing more than normal mission.

“Get dressed.” Her voice was empty.

Quan Law shook his head, his mouth dry, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m a man, I….”

Thalia Lee cut him off. Her voice remained soft and steady, yet beneath its calm surface lay a sharpness that could only be sensed—not heard. “You may not realize it yet, but this isn’t that suburban house you once visited. Though, in time, you’ll return there. No need to rush. For now, we’re somewhere else—a place completely isolated from the outside world, a self-governed zone beyond any authority’s reach. Here, the so-called ‘forced laborers’ face up to five million volts from stun guns every single day. High voltage, low current—so it won’t kill you. But trust me, no one wants to test that kind of electricity on their own body a few hundred times a day.”

She paused for a moment, then let a sly smile creep across her lips. “Now then… you have two choices.”

She sat back down, crossing her legs, and casually pulled a cigarette from a silver case. “Option one: you behave and get dressed. The stun gun switch stays off.”

Thalia Lee flicked her lighter, igniting the cigarette. A thin wisp of smoke curled into the air as she exhaled slowly. “Option two: they’ll help you change. And for every minute you hesitate, you’ll get a taste of what the forced laborers here endure—every single day.”

Quan Law trembled. He couldn’t comprehend how or why this was happening to him. All he had ever wanted was a quiet life—a modest existence as a programmer who lacked the talent to advance further. And yet, here he was. Trapped. Forced to wear these things. Forced to become someone he didn’t even know.

“Make your choice.”

“I… I can’t…” His voice was so weak that even he wasn’t sure if it sounded like a plea.

Thalia Lee tilted her head slightly and let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh dear! I really didn’t want to resort to force. But this is entirely your choice.”

She snapped her fingers. Immediately, the two women stepped forward—without hesitation. For the first time in his life, Quan Law saw a stun gun up close. In a single, fleeting moment, the electric arc crackled to life, illuminating the dim room with a stark, blinding light.

He nearly blacked out, but it seemed the voltage had been calibrated for temporary paralysis rather than unconsciousness. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, the other woman seized the last piece of clothing he had left—his underwear. With zero hesitation, she ripped it away, leaving him utterly exposed. Humiliation surged through him like wildfire. He struggled, desperate to resist. But his body refused to obey.

Ice-cold fingertips skimmed across his skin, pulling each piece of fabric onto his body with mechanical precision. The red lace bra tightened around his back, the stiff underwire pressing uncomfortably into his flesh. The silk panties clung to him, foreign and suffocating, their smoothness a stark contrast to everything he had ever known. He wanted to scream. But his throat had closed up.

The red silk dress slipped down over his body, wrapping around him like a second skin. For the first time in his life, he felt the softness of delicate fabric against his bare flesh—not in a way that was alluring or comforting, but in a way that sent a violent shudder through him. It wasn’t elegance. It wasn’t beauty. It was pure, unrelenting horror.

His trembling hands brushed against the fabric. A strange sensation swelled in his chest. No. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. Was this a nightmare?

Men in this country were relatively small compared to the global average. Moreover, their bodies were mostly hairless, with only a faint layer of fine fuzz. Quan Law suspected that the stun gun’s electric current had burned away even the last traces of it from his skin.

The woman knelt down, lifted his foot, and slipped it into the high-heeled shoe. His toes were squeezed together, his heel teetering precariously as if he were balancing on a thin wire. Quan Law wanted to say something. Wanted to resist. But his body was no longer his own.

Finally, a wig—crafted entirely from real hair and meticulously styled—was placed over his head. The adhesive inside was so strong that he was certain trying to tear it off would strip away a layer of his scalp.

Thalia Lee nodded in satisfaction, “Good.”

She stood up and stepped closer, “Now, look in the mirror.”

Though unwilling, Quan Law slowly turned his head. The mirror reflected an image he could no longer recognize. A woman with disheveled black hair, a pale face, parched lips, and panic-stricken eyes. But what sent the deepest shiver down his spine was the tight red dress clinging to his body, the bare legs exposed beneath the silk, and the feet squeezed into towering high heels.

Even without makeup, Quan Law could already see that he didn’t look all that different from the woman standing beside him—Thalia Lee. The only distinction was his gauntness, making him appear more like someone gravely ill.

“No. No, this isn’t me!” Quan Law screamed inside his mind, but the image in the mirror remained cold and unchanged.

PART 3 >>