A Virus          by: Destiny

 

Part 5

Sam gradually came around from his faint with a feeling of acute embarrassment, he could barely bring himself to believe that he had collapsed like a schoolgirl. He looked to see where he was, and recognised his hotel room. Sam could hear shouting from the adjoining suite, it sounded like Greg. He got off of his bed and, still feeling a little light headed, tiptoed over to the door to peer through the crack at what was happening. Greg was holding the man from the photograph up against the wall and shouting in his face.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING FRANZ? Shooting at friend of mine."

The man called Franz squirmed against the wall as he tried to evade Greg's wrath. "H-how was I supposed to know who she was. All I knew was that some strange girl was going around showing my photo and asking who I was..."

"SO YOU GRAB A GUN AND FIND THIS ONE HOTEL IN AN ENTIRE CITY FULL OF TOURISTS. I'm not stupid Franz how did you know where we were? Just what were you about to do with that gun when I showed up? Tell me the truth Franz, NOW."

"All right Gregory, do you want the truth? Here it is, I knew you were looking for me, and I knew she must be with you. It was you I wanted to kill. YOU DESTROYED MY LIFE YOU BASTARD. YOU ENDED MY CAREER." With that Franz went limp and slumped to the floor.

Sam gently opened the door and cleared his throat. Greg turned around and looked at him. Sam blushed as he saw the expression of concern on his friends face. What must Greg be thinking of him? Passing out like some sort of stupid girl. Had this been another step in his rapid descent into femininity, that thought almost brought tears to his eyes. Greg turned to see the distraught look on his friends face, he had trouble believing that the frightened girl he was looking at was really his friend. He also had trouble accepting the events of the past day, everything had happened so fast that he still had no real plan other than to take things as they came. Greg decided to let events keep until the morning, he was sure that he could 'persuade' Franz not to leave. With that decision made he felt much better and with another look at Sam knew it was the right one. "Are you all right Sam?" He asked. Sam only nodded, he was afraid to open his mouth in case he let out a sob. Greg sighed in relief. "Don't go scaring me like that again. I thought that this piece of scum had killed you." With that he kicked the silent Franz in the stomach. "I suppose you want an explanation about who this is." Another nod.

"This is an old colleague of mine Dr Franz Shmidtt. We worked together on a project called Phoenix, a failed project..."

At this Franz protested. "It was no failure. It fulfilled it's basic purpose."

Another kick from Greg silenced him. "As I was saying, a failed project and I can provide half a dozen test subjects who are forever stuck as six-year old girls to back me up. When they closed down the project Franz took it a bit personal and started to make trouble, after that no-one would hire him for anything. The reason he's here is that some of the genetic code from the virus is identical to the coding from Franz's part of project phoenix. But that is something that can wait until morning." With that Greg produced a pair of handcuffs and locked the defeated Franz to the ornamental window bar. "Go to bed Sam." Greg told him.

Sam went back to his room, his head swimming. The man who had turned him into this ultra feminine girl was locked up in the next room. Or was he, everything else in this past day had gone wrong why should this be any different. A wave of tiredness passed through him, perhaps Greg was right he should go to bed.

Sam went over to the dresser and began looking through the nightwear provided. From the looks of things whoever had picked the clothes had just been given his new measurements and told to provide stuff. He sifted through the stuff he was never going to wear, there was silk nighties, teddies and all sorts of lacy negligees but no pyjamas. Eventually he found a large cotton T-shirt that he decided he could wear and pulled that on. As he climbed into the bed he mentally reviewed the last day. He thought about the race across London his body changing around him, the looks and leers of the men in the government complex, how his feelings towards the people around him kept changing and the way everybody reacted to him. Sam had never felt so not in control, he was ashamed of the way he was reacting around Greg. The way he kept blushing everytime Greg even looked at him, he was a man not some silly little girl. That was what he kept telling himself, but everytime he went to the toilet that was made a lie. God, he thought to himself, I've even fainted how much more like a silly girl can I get. With that thought he could contain his feelings no longer and started sobbing. For the first time in his life Sam cried himself to sleep. Sam awoke the next morning with the vain hope that everything had been just a bad dream, but the locks of blonde hair lying across his face told him otherwise. He wiped his eyes, which were still sticky from his crying the previous night, and stumbled into the bathroom. Once there he felt again the humiliation of sitting down to urinate. After enduring that he washed his face and tried to brush his hair. Long hair, he decided, may look good but was a pain to brush.

Sam walked back into the bedroom and tried to put his feelings of the previous night behind him. He put on a fresh pair of panties, bra and a new set of pantyhose, he examined the trouser suit from yesterday and decided it was far too crumpled for him to wear again. Sam looked in the closet but was disappointed to see that there was no others hanging there, there was however a pair of jeans which although a bit tight was better than a skirt or dress. A pale pink T-shirt finished it off, although Sam noted it was a bit tight around his large chest. He briefly flirted with the idea of trying some of the makeup next to the mirror, but chose to hold onto what was left of his masculinity. Sam looked at the still unfamiliar reflection and decided that he was ready to face the world.

Sam walked into the room which separated his and Greg's rooms. Despite the early hour, Greg was already awake and munching on a piece of toast. Sam squinted at him, was his chest getting bigger. The pathetic form of Franz was still handcuffed to the window bar. Greg looked up from the breakfast bar as Sam approached and greeted him.

"Good morning Sam. How are you feeling this morning? Well," he continued without giving Sam a chance to answer, "I've got some news for you and it's not good. We have got about one more day left, before the shit officially hits the fan, to get some where. London has been in touch, about two thousand cases like yours have surfaced across the globe and God only knows how many others are waiting to happen. Oh and by the way America just got it's first woman President, the press are keeping a lid on it for now but..." Greg let the sentence trail off. "On a cheerier note I've had a long talk with Franz here and, while he denies that he's anything to do with the virus, he has kindly agreed to take us to his workshop to let us look at his papers."

Sam looked at the wretched figure of Franz, the black eye and the blood trickling out of his nose left no doubt in Sam's mind about the type of 'talk' Greg had had with him. Greg took the handcuffs off of Franz and forced him to his feet.

"Are you coming Sam. We're on the trail what can go wrong now."
Sam looked at him and replied. "Lets go and find out."

 

 

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