"New Skin" by Jack Madsen

It began with the smallest itch, almost able to be ignored, but I know that’s impossible. I reached up and drew my well-manicured fingernails across the skin on the back of my neck. The tickle passed immediately, but deeper down, I knew the feeling would only continue to build. Flattening my hand, I massaged the area, feeling the muscle yield under the pressure. 

Was the skin already thicker? So soon? No, it doesn’t happen that quickly. I still had time.

The days carried on, and I made arrangements to be away from work and the few acquaintances I maintained, mostly neighbors who would notice my absence. It never hurt to have a consistent story among those who I had to interact with. Beyond that, I wouldn’t be missed. The rest of the world rushed by around me, and no one noticed. I went to great lengths to make sure that was the case, it just made life that much simpler. The itch, of course, had returned and was no longer chased away with any amount of scratching. A harbinger of my immediate future, it rippled and crawled along my body, foretelling the biology that forged ahead just under the surface. I sought respite with long soaks in the bathtub, the water as cold as possible, submerged with only my mouth and nose cresting the surface, but there was no stopping my march toward the inevitable. 

I awoke on the day of my scheduled departure, and the transformation was almost complete. I had timed it well as it was becoming nearly impossible to hold myself back from the compulsion. I loaded my small bag of belongings into my car, mostly for show, I would have no need for any of it once I reached my destination. Heading out of the city, I followed the route I had taken hundreds of times before when the calling had set upon me.

The cities and towns passed by and grew less and less frequent. My task was best accomplished in a place as isolated from people as possible. This had become harder and harder to do each time, but with a little forethought and planning it could still be done. Pulling over at one of the rare stops I made on my trip, I was inside of the gas station paying for a final fill up of fuel when I sensed another. They must have had similar plans to myself and saw this station as conveniently placed along their path. Stepping outside, I was drawn immediately to the dark gray vehicle that had taken a position one row over from mine. As I approached the car, the other pumping gas turned in my direction and our eyes locked. They appeared as a slim, athletic female of approximately thirty years of age. She had light brown hair laced into a tight braid that trailed down her neck and rested on the shoulder of what appeared to be a rain jacket. Jeans and light boots finished the outfit and matched her intention to play the part of a hiker heading into the wilds. Nondescript and average, like any of us, she would pass without notice, fading from memory as quickly as any stranger on the street.    

I continued to approach her, never breaking the connection with her eyes. Reaching out, our fingertips met and the link was made. In an instant, our lives flooded each other’s bodies, and our hierarchy was established. I was the elder, thus she would accompany me to my chosen site, and we would complete our task together. This was the way it had always been done. Breaking the connection, I turned away, walked to my car, got in and pulled away from the station. She still had to refuel and pay, but our link would carry across long distances and she would find her way to me wherever I went.

Having left the last piece of civilization back at the station, I drove deeper and deeper into the forest. I turned off the paved road and bounced along a rough access road that I knew would get little to no activity this late in the season. Another hour on this trail, and I reached the spot where the path widened and a makeshift clearing served as a place for a handful of cars to be left near a trailhead leading into the mountains.

Rather than carry on ahead, I stayed in the car, hands on the steering wheel, slowly clenching and relaxing. Closing my eyes, I felt the tension in my hands spread up my arms, then across my torso and finally down my legs. My muscles rippled under the now thickened skin - the itch had been replaced with a buzzing anxiety, a physical manifestation of the transformation and the anticipation of what came next. It roared in my ears like a storm raging outside of the car,  lashing across the trees, tearing off limbs and slamming them onto the ground. As the tempest raged toward its crescendo, my eyes shot open, my hands flew up off the wheel and everything was dead calm. The surrounding trees were still and intact, the bright sun trickled through the leaves and painted the forest floor with shining gems. Turning to the right, I saw her pull up next to my car and park. Stepping out, I walked to the back of my car, opened the hatch and removed a small bundle, then strode toward the markers designating the beginning of the mountain trail.

She caught up quickly, and soon we both walked side-by-side along the well-maintained trail. We neither looked at each other nor spoke, for the most part ignoring each other, caught up in our own internal worlds. Once I heard her begin to breathe heavier and I could feel the tension building in her much like it had for me in the car. It continued to build, her exhalations verging on barking growls. She made to surge forward, to break into a run, but my hand on her shoulder pulled her back. I kept the grip firm until I could feel her come down from the burgeoning impulse that was just beneath the surface.        

An hour in,we had made good progress. We left behind the main trail with its scattered markers posting the location of views or attractions that held no interest for us. The trail was now much narrower, and we trekked single-file, hearing no sounds from the road or any other human activities. The way soon rose quickly and we scrambled up steep sections interrupted by large rocks and tangled roots. Cresting a small hill, we eventually arrived at my intended destination. At the top of the hill, a massive oak tree towered over the landscape. Its heavy canopy shaded the floor beneath it. The light had been fading quickly for the last part of our trek, and now the darkness deepened in the shelter of the tree. Our eyes easily adjusted, the transformation having provided us with the enhanced night vision we would need. As we approached the trunk, we easily avoided the few random plants and scattered piles of bone that dotted the area.

At the base of the tree, I swept the leaves out of a deep section where the roots met the trunk. Unraveling the bundle I had carried with me from the car, I set the dry bag on the roots, laid my coat on the bag and began to unbutton my shirt. My companion did the same, shedding her clothes until she stood naked under the tree. I carefully folded and stowed my clothing in the dry bag, took the other bag of clothing that she handed me and tucked it far back in the recesses of the tree. Our belongings would remain safe here until tomorrow. Standing up, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the smells carried along by the light breeze. Life was dense here, plenty for us to harvest and ensure that our task was accomplished.

A sound broke through my thoughts, I recognized it as the grunting the other had made earlier, but this time I did nothing to stop her. The sound progressed to a harsh, keening whine that triggered a wave of sensation across my skin. I gave in myself and soon sang along with her as the final stage of the transformation took hold. Clenching my hands into fists, I felt the claws poised on the ends of my fingers. I dragged them across more forearm, leaving furrows in their wake. The pain was sharp and stimulating, but no blood welled forth as the skin responded to the injury and quickly tightened, weaving back together stronger and tougher than before. I hissed loudly as fiery pain traced across my back. She had swiped her own claws from my shoulders to the small of my back, accelerating the hardening process. I spun around and swiftly intercepted her wrist as she came in for another strike. Pulling her arm up, I lashed out across her stomach, and she cried out sharply from the pain, then bared her teeth in a cruel smile. The bright white points, adapted like her fingernails, glistened in the moonlight that now filtered into the clearing. She twisted her hand free and thrust both hands forward, connecting with my chest. The blow was immense and would have crushed any other creature, but we were complete now, toughened and stronger. I flipped backwards, landing on all fours and then rushed forward, throwing my arms around her hips and lifting her onto my shoulders. I raced forward out of the clearing carrying her along as she pounded mercilessly on my back. Reaching up, I threw her off and she sailed through the air twisting cat-like to land gracefully on the trunk of a fallen tree. We were ready.

We slid through the forest like wraiths, faster than any other animal could manage. Our senses bathed in the overload – the hunt, the chase, the swift death, the rending of flesh and bone, the return. Nothing escaped our fury - large, small, clawed, horned - it all was our prey. Again and again we repeated the cycle, ranging out from the oak tree further and further, but always returning with the spoils of our conquest. At times we hunted alone, so overtaken by the lust that we completely ignored the other, but mostly we stalked together and revelled as one in the thrill of the moment. The emotion and feelings that we push down and control in that other part of our lives was now released and free to do what it will. It poured out of us in a frenzy, and we did nothing to stem the flow.

The sun rose, and our efforts slowed. At the height of the day, we returned to the oak tree. We tended to the steadily growing pile of torn bodies that had accumulated there. Rending apart larger pieces and arranging them neatly across the forest floor. As we finished, a light rain began to fall. It grew heavier and soon made it past the umbrella of leaves held by the branches above. The water beaded up, our skin shed it easily and as the storm outside the shelter of the oak continued to grow, so did our lust to return to the hunt. Slowly, we ranged out among the trees unfocussed, lightly sparring and swiping at each other. Suddenly, a rabbit shot out from under a pile of brush and the chase was irresistible. Pushing the last bit of sleep from our bodies, we loped gracefully behind as the small creature ran for its life. My companion keened loudly, spurring the prey and its predators onward. Now fully heated and once again surging with the power of our kind, we ended the chase and rent the body in half. Blood splashed across our arms, painting our bodies until the rain washed it thinner and thinner. I screamed to the sky, a long and powerful wail, we were once again our true selves.

The storm intensified as night fell, but that only drove us further into our violent catharsis. Prey fell before us just as it had the previous night, nothing escaped. We lashed through the trees like the lightning in the sky above and struck anything that moved. Our spree was relentless, the cycle repeated over and over - hunt, kill, return. The storm peaked along with our frenzy, thunder pounding, trees thrashing in the wind, breaking branches echoing the snapping of joints and bone. We dragged our final kill back to the tree and threw the remains onto our horde. Dragging ourselves back toward the base of the tree, we finally gave in and collapsed in a tangle of red-stained limbs. The cold rain poured down on us, but we slept like the dead, unmoving and silent.     

I woke on the morning of that second day to bright light filtering through the branches of the oak tree towering above. Sitting up I looked around and saw no sign of the other in the immediate vicinity. Perhaps she had wandered off into a denser part of the forest. As I scanned further about the clearing, I looked over at the piles of flesh and limbs we had carefully arranged and saw her final contribution to our purpose. Having completed her function, I guess she felt there was little reason to remain and thus had returned to her car and her alternate life. The parting was inevitable, and I felt neither gain nor loss from the interaction we had shared. We simply did what we had been compelled to do.

After standing up, I felt the familiar loosening of my skin that signaled the final part of my task. I stretched and pulled, feeling the interface between the layers shifting, letting go. Once I had sufficiently worked free the connections across my entire body, I reached up, grabbing the protruding folds on the back of my neck and pulled. The skin split easily and smoothly parted from the layer underneath. It slid readily down my body, and as it pooled down onto the ground, I stepped out of it, reborn into the form I would remain in until the next transformation took hold. I gathered the slippery skin in my hands and carried it over to the collection we had made. Laying it gently on the largest pile next to my companion’s similarly shed covering, I now completed the reason for coming here. The mass of flesh, organs and bones would nourish our offspring as they grew from our skins and carried on the next generation. Perhaps someday they too would return to this very place and perform the same ritual we had just completed. 

I turned to make my way back toward the tree and noticed an object reflecting the morning sunlight. Bending down, I wiped the blood and muck away to reveal a watch still strapped in place around a wrist. Tracing my fingers along the hand, I noted the feminine shape and painted nails. Further discovery revealed a lower leg, clearly a man’s this time, given the muscle structure and abundant hair. Apparently our hunt ranged far enough to encounter a couple getting in a final, late-season hike. As much as I made efforts to avoid this, it made little difference. The bodies would never be found and the disappearance would be blamed on any number of rational explanations. I wiped my hands on the wet leaves surrounding my feet and thought nothing more of them.         

Returning to the base of the tree, I reached into the recess between the roots and pulled out my dry bag. I reached in to pull out my belongings, and I felt something hard among the clothes. Extracting the item, I saw that it was a small bone stripped clean of flesh. On one end, a thin vine with bright green leaves had been woven tightly in place. I looked at it curiously for a moment, knowing it could only have been my companion who had crafted it and left it where she knew I would find it. It was strange to think of her again, but not uncomfortably so. I set it on the nearby roots as I dressed and stashed it in my coat pocket as I walked from the clearing. The day was clear and bright, and would make the trip back an easy hike.             

As I walked to my car, I held the small token in my hand, absently rubbing against the smooth bone. It was cold and damp, still fresh from the harvest. I arrived back at the trailhead in good time. As expected, mine was the only car there. I stowed my bag in the trunk and took a long drink from a water jug I had placed on the back seat. As I pulled away, I looked at the token that I had left on a nearby fencepost. Would it still be there next time I returned? It didn’t really matter to me, I was now just biding time. This task was over, and the next would come again, and the cycle would repeat. My kind would live on to hunt, to kill, to return again and again.   

Jack Madsen is a variety fiction writer for genres including science fiction, fantasy, horror and even children’s stories.