I Werewoman 1 Read online

  “Second.” I was twenty-three. I’d taken a year off between undergraduate studies in Chicago and grad school in Boston, using the time to make sure that going into graduate study was what I really wanted to do, and to try and get the required foreign languages up to par.

  “What are you hoping to concentrate on?”

  “Um,” I winced and took a deep breath. This was always somewhat difficult to explain: “Crisis and Recovery? Why the Empire survived events like the Crisis of the Third Century, or the Marcomannic Wars, or the Antonine Plague, or the defeat at Adrianople, and how it did? Why people kept choosing to be Roman when it seemed like it might be easier to opt to be something else, and why they stopped in the Fifth Century. In the West, anyway.”

  “Intriguing,” the tight smile twitched again. “Have you got any thesis advisors lined up yet?”

  “Um, no, not yet.” I shrugged this time and shook my head. “I’ve been pretty focused on my language exams.”

  He nodded. “Well, when you get around to it, look me up, I’d be happy to work with you, and talk more about things like this.” He tapped the paper again, then turned and walked back towards the podium.

  I was taken aback by the offer; flattered, but surprised. It took me a minute to find my tongue. “Um, thank you! Definitely! I will definitely do that.”

  Professor Aurelius gathered up the rest of his belongings, turned towards me with one last smile, then headed towards the door.

  I glanced at the circled red ‘A’ on the title page of my paper again and grinned. So, I had my first thesis advisor lined up. Awesome! And, he found my take on Caesar ‘interesting.’ I thought was most excited about that. I’d been hesitant to pursue my take on Caesar and the Senate when I started writing the paper, but after thinking it over and procrastinating for a few days, I ran out of time to come up with another, ‘safer’ topic and just dove right into it instead. After all, or so I’d decided, I was there in grad school to study and put some unconventional ideas out into the academic conversation, see how people took to them. Might as well get started while I had the opportunity. I’d half expected to get a poorly graded rebuke in return, but instead, I’d gotten an A and found myself one step closer to advancing to Ph.D. studies. Not bad.

  My phone pinged with an alert, and I glanced at it again, flipping it back over. It was Brian, checking up on my ETA.

  Crashpanda: Today at 6:15 PM. You out yet?

  Crap, I thought to myself, stuffing the paper into my book bag and zipping it shut. Should get moving. Another gurgle from my stomach reminded me just how hungry I was, and Brian was waiting on me. After I rose from my seat and hauled my book bag up onto my right shoulder, I slowly made my way towards the door, texting back along the way.

  RealityCipher: Today at 6:16 PM. Heading out now. Got an A on my first paper.

  Crashpanda: Today at 6:16 PM. ::High Five Emoji:: My guy! That’s awesome!

  RealityCipher: Today at 6:17 PM. Also, Prof wants to be 1 of my thesis advisors.

  Crashpanda: Today at 6:17 PM. Well, fuck. I should let you write my papers.

  RealityCipher: Today at 6:18 PM. Haha, good luck with that, bro.

  Crashpanda: Today at 6:18 PM. Why not!? What’s a guy gotta do to get some free help on the fly?

  Whilst messaging back and forth with my roommate I made my way down the hall towards the elevator, which I then rode down to the bottom floor of the PLS building. A quick right turn and a few more steps, and I was at the exit. Pushing my way through the big, heavy double doors, I stepped out onto Granby street into a rush of brisk wind that blew back the short dark hair on the top of my head and hooked a right down the sidewalk towards Commonwealth and the Warren Towers beyond.

  RealityCipher: Today at 6:20 PM. Hmmm, not be a guy, for one? You turn yourself into a hot chick with some great boobs, and we’ll talk. Almost at Commonwealth now. See you in five?

  Crashpanda: Today at 6:21 PM. What like one of your KPOP babes? Cool btw. Fuck I’m hungry.

  Smirking, I accessed my phone’s internal photo gallery and pulled up a saved picture of Roe Eun-Chae, the twenty-one-year-old voluptuous lead singer of Deep Breath, one of my favorite all-female KPOP groups. It was a picture she’d posted herself on Twitter some weeks ago. With a few quick taps I shared it over to Crashpanda, to Brian, over Discord. In the picture, Roe’s curvy figure was scantily dressed: she was wearing only the tight, glossy white hot pants, shiny black pantyhose, high heeled knee-high boots, and black bustier of her costume get up from one of the group’s more recent music videos. Her long, dark, glossy brown hair, with a slightly burgundy sheen to it, shimmered in the light. I thought she was just about the sexiest woman I’d ever seen.

  RealityCipher: Today at 6:22 PM. Hey, if you looked like this you could get me to do --anything--. And me too.

  Crashpanda: Today at 6:23 PM. Shit, ditto in reverse. Hurry up, dude, I’m being eaten alive by my own stomach!

  Crossing the street over to Warren Towers, I stowed my phone away inside my one of my pants pockets and quickened my pace.

  As I crossed over Commonwealth, an uncommonly sudden darkness spreading across the sky above caught my attention. There was still an hour to go before sunset, but when I looked up, I saw a thick sheen of black clouds rolling swiftly across the sky, moving faster than I’d ever seen clouds move before. It looked super weird to me, and a chilling pallor swept over my body. I quickened my steps again, watching the wall of shadow advance while I dashed towards my dorm hall at the base of Marshall Tower, the central spire within the Warren Towers complex. The onrushing darkness overhead blotted out the light of the setting sun, and by the time I made it across the paved walkway to the entrance of the Towers—where Brian and I shared a room—the rushing darkness had completely consumed the twinkling, twilight sky overhead.

  ✽✽✽

  Brian and I made it down to the ‘Fresh Food Co.’ dining hall by 6:45. Both of our stomachs were growling incessantly when we queued up in front of the cash register to get our IDs scanned, and once we were through the door we dashed into the commissary line, grasping hungrily at the closest appetizing-looking food and tossing bits and pieces of what was being served that evening onto our plates. There was almost always a Cheese Pizza station near to the head of the commissary, and we grabbed up what was left there of the current pizza before moving on. We both started munching on a bit of the Pizza while we made our way through the rest of the stations.

  “So, hey,” Brian addressed me a few seconds later between bites of pizza, as he tonged some ‘Chinese Peking Style Roast Chicken’ onto his plate, “You have any plans tonight?”

  Inwardly, I groaned, waiting for my turn at the Roast Chicken and munching a bit of my own pizza. Usually, when Brian asked me this, he was trying to talk me into being his wingman at some loud, raucous party somewhere on campus. He never failed to ask me if I wanted to come, although he tended to ask me after he’d already made plans and committed the both of us to going. For a long time during our first year at the school together I’d wondered why he never went to the things alone when it was pretty clear that I did not enjoy myself in large, loud social settings—be they campus parties, bars, night clubs, concerts, or whatever—but after getting a chance to discretely observe Brian operating alone at a social gathering one night late last school year, at a dinner and drinking party with a bunch of senior graduate students that he thought I’d be unable to attend because of a deadline, I finally worked it out.

  You see, for all that I was a bit of an academic geek– a six-foot tall, not bad looking, semi-athletic introverted homebody who preferred to spend a night in playing video games or reading about ancient history to going out drinking, dancing, or partying, Brian was a social disaster on his own in public. He, like me, was a good six-foot and something tall, and not badly built or physically unattractive, with a mixed-race Mediterranean cast to his features, and he could attract dates and make new friends when we were hanging out in public together, but he seem
ed to lack any social confidence when out in public alone. On his own, he stammered constantly (to the point where I thought he might actually have an unaddressed case of a mild stutter), his nervousness made him clumsy, and he blushed beat red whenever anyone spoke to him directly—most especially attractive young women. With me along for the ride, he was much more confident, and could relax sufficiently enough to laugh and have a good time. It just sucked that I… didn’t. I’d never really cared for big social gatherings, and although I enjoyed Brian’s company and could put on a happy face and fake it when I had it—like while I was at work—I did my best to avoid parties, concerts, or dance clubs whenever I could gracefully get away with it.

  Still, Brian was my friend, and a good roommate, and we hadn’t yet been to a campus party since we’d returned to school from our summer absences at the beginning of the month. I already had a head start on my paper for HIST 509, and only readings to do for the rest of my semester course load, so… I figured I could give him this one night at a crappy party.

  “No,” I conceded, trying to keep the resignation from my tone, “No plans. Why, what’s up?”

  Brian shot me a look from under thick, dark eyebrows. There was a bit of suspicion in his gaze as he moved away from the Roasted Chicken station so that I could have at it myself, but if he heard anything out of place in my tone, he didn’t comment on it.

  “There’s a full moon tonight.”

  “So?” I tonged up some chicken for myself, then moved on towards the next station, with Brian following along behind.

  “There’s gonna be a wild party on the rooftop tonight. Grad Students only.” Brian went back a few stations for a couple more pieces of cheese pizza, then returned to my place in line. I’d moved up to the beverage station by then, pouring myself a glass of Coke from the fountain, and then headed back a few paces to grab a glass of chocolate milk, as well.

  “You want to go to the party?” I confirmed with my roommate, turning towards him with a smirky smile. “Is Gabrielle going to be there?”

  ‘Gabrielle’ was another member of our cohort, a second-year graduate student in the history department, although unlike Brian and I, she was aiming for an M.A. rather than a Ph.D., with plans to move sideways into a Museum Studies program after she was done. She was also a busty red-head with a Scottish Accent. My roommate had been nursing a secret crush on her since shortly after we’d all arrived on campus together at the start of our first year of graduate study. He’d never yet worked up the nerve to speak to her about it, and the both of them had each dated other people since we’d started our graduate study together at Boston University, but if ever there was a party that Brian was sure there was a fair chance Gabrielle would be at, he found a way to make sure the two of us would be there as well. You know, just on the off chance that she might, say, fall into his arms unexpectedly.

  Brian knew what I was onto when I asked the question, of course, and to avoid giving me the satisfaction of seeing him blush, he stuck his nose up in the air and turned away, fixing himself a glass of apple juice from the opposite side of the commissary line. “Said she might be,” he finally responded, evasively.

  I hid a grin.

  Suddenly, though, something unpleasant occurred to me. The thick wall of dark clouds that I had watched race across the sky less than twenty minutes ago abruptly came back to me, and as the two of us pulled our trays off of the commissary rails and started looking for an open table, I frowned. “Wait, did you say the party was on the rooftop?”

  “Ummm, yeah…” Brian was scanning the dining room seating section as we slowly moved away from the commissary, looking for a quiet corner where we could snag some seats. “Why?”

  “Oh, wow, sorry man, bad news,” I remarked, following after my roommate when he located a secluded spot to eat behind a diagonally placed black support beam for the second level above. We both tucked into the corner, sliding our trays onto the surface of the round table and then pulling out chairs on opposite sides from one another. “I think it might storm.”

  Whilst I started picking at the food on my tray, I told Brian about the dark clouds that I’d seen rolling in, not more than half an hour ago. Brian frowned as he heard me out, pulling his phone off of his dinner tray and holding it up in front of his face, which was still somewhat rough, tanned, and weathered from his summer session spent abroad, scratching in the dirt and sand of ancient Egypt on an archaeological placement. While I ate some small pieces of the delicious Roast Chicken, Brian poked at a few buttons on his phone. After a couple moments, he shook his head, still frowning, his brows knitting together with confusion. “Supposed to be warm and clear skies.”

  “Really?” I asked, around a mouthful of Roast Chicken. That seemed unlikely, given what I’d seen with my own eyes. Reaching for Brian’s hand, I turned his phone around so that it faced me, and he held it out over the table so that I could more easily make out what was written on the screen.

  To my surprise, Brian was right. The weather forecast for this evening, which according to the legend had been updated less than eight minutes ago, was for clear skies and sixty-eight-degree weather. Not bad for a mid-August night. But that made no sense to me. I’d seen the dark clouds rolling across the sky overhead. They couldn’t already have gone, could they?

  “But…” I turned slowly in my chair from side to side, looking for the nearest window. As soon as I spotted one, just a few yards behind my seat at our table, I sprang to my feet and crossed the room to look outside.

  Once again there was a surprise in store for me. When I reached the window, the dark clouds I’d witnessed less than thirty minutes ago were completely gone, and the dusky blue sky that stretched for miles away over head was clear except for the twinkling stars.

  Well that’s… fucking weird, I thought, peering out through the window for a few seconds longer just to make sure that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

  “Fucking weird,” I grumbled at Brian when I returned to table a minute later, shrugging and stuffing my mouth full of pizza again. After a few bites, I had a sip of my Coke and shook my head. “It was dark and cloudy less than half an hour ago. I saw it.”

  “Must have blown over,” Brian shrugged back at me, not looking up from his phone as he did so. Lazily, he scratched the short rough black stubble on the end of chin with one hand as he thumbed through something on his phone with the other, intermittently pecking at his food.

  “I guess,” I muttered, strangely unconvinced. I mean, I guess… the clouds had been moving fast when they blew in overhead during my walk back to the dorm, but… I dunno, something didn’t seem right about it to me. I’d couldn’t remember a time when a stormy sky had passed that quickly. Was that normal? I didn’t know – I knew practically nothing about how weather worked, beyond the basics that they teach you in high school science classes. You know, what Fahrenheit is, what Celsius is; how clouds are formed from water vapor, and that there are different types of them…

  Sighing, I finally gave in, resigning myself to attending the evening’s party. “So, what time does the party start?”

  “Umm, the flyer said ten,” Brian distractedly replied, still scrolling through some feed on his phone.

  “Okay,” I nodded, acquiescing, then forked up another mouthful of Peking-Style Roast Chicken for myself. I fished my own phone out of my pants pocket and unlocked it, checking my notifications again while the two of us ate in silence for a few moments. There were some new twitter postings and replies for me to run through, and a text message on Discord from Katie, another member of our graduate cohort, and a… um, a close friend.

  Okay, that was undercutting the truth a little.

  Katie was a cute blonde girl—also in our graduate cohort—who was studying Medieval Women’s History. There’d been some physical chemistry between us during the fall semester of our first year in the program, and the two of us had hooked up one night that winter after a Christmas party. Although nothing official or romantic had
come of our time together, we’d gone on having a fling full of casual hookups throughout winter break, since we were both stuck in Boston together, neither of us had anyone else to socialize with, and we both turned out to be seriously good at fucking. By the end of winter break, we’d gone from just being fuck buddies to becoming close, intimate friends, and although we’d both gotten wrapped up in our own courses of study during the spring semester and had slightly fallen out of touch, we’d kept in contact over Discord during summer break, when she headed off to Europe and I relocated to Manhattan for the duration. Although I’d seen her in passing a few times since we’d both returned campus after the end of summer break, we hadn’t yet had a chance to really catch up or talk, but now she was messaging me on Discord to ask if I’d be at the rooftop party tonight. Intrigued, I sent back a quick text to confirm that I would be, that I would keep an eye out for her, and that I was looking forward to seeing her again and catching up. It was all true—I really was. Even though I was still less than thrilled about the party itself, I started to become excited about the chance to catch up with friends from the program again—especially Katie. The two of us had seemingly burned through all of our physical chemistry last winter, but I’d really grown to enjoy both her company and the long conversations we shared, and looked forward to resuming that friendship in person once again.

  As I composed my response to Katie, another Instagram notification popped up on the top of my phone’s glossy black screen. This second notification of the evening informed me that ‘Riann,’ another gorgeous, twenty-four-years-old South Korean KPOP singer, dancer, and popular fashion and glamour model whom I followed had uploaded a new photoset. Riann was one of the core members of the all-female KPOP group Cr0wn J3w3l. While ‘Riann’ was her stage name, her real name was Ryang Hwa-Young, and like Roe Eun-Chae and Kae Yong-Hui, she was one of my biggest celebrity crushes.

  Again, I dithered briefly over opening the notification and taking a look at her new pictures, before ultimately dismissing it (I was still out in public, after all) and making yet another mental note to check out Instagram when I had a little time to myself later this evening.