Nick Baker was excited. 

It all started with an odd sort of ad just popping up on his computer, an odd one that said that his dreams would be realized if only he called the number below. 

Now, most ads try to do that anyways. What made this one different was that it spoke to NICK'S dream, as if he really knew what he wanted somehow. But . . . 
what he dreamt of most wasn't exactly, well, ordinary.  

Nick Baker wanted to be a pokemon.  

He'd been obsessed with the fandom ever since he was first introduced to it by his parents on his birthday (which they furiously regret). Cards, movies, shows, Nick knew about it all. His collection of poke-merch rivialed that of the most dedicated professionals. Yet, unlike most fans, who longed in wishful vain to win valiant pokemon battles as trainers, Nick would rather daydream about being a pokemon itself, running carefree through the woods and meadows or taking down a bully with a single blast of flame or condensed water. 

Being a pokemon sounded perfect. No worries, no stress, and powers that rival that of real-life gods, becoming one of these majestic, powerful creatures was a fantasy that both filled his mind and plagued it with its unreality. 

Eevee was Nick's favorite. Cute as heck, and possessing the ability to evolve into 8 different types of pokemon if it wanted to!  Despite his love for pokemon, Nick wasn't sure which exact powers he'd prefer, fire, water, or who knows what, so eevee felt like the perfect choice for his indecisive mind.  

He'd been lamented by his concerned parents and mocked by his peers, struggling both in school and out due to both his teasing and his tendency to daydream during  class. He managed to hold down a job at a fast-food joint, but that money went straight into more pokemon stuff!  

This year had been the worst of it all. His high school senior year was drawing to a close, and with it came the decision of colleges and career.  Luckily he barely managed to scrape by school, but his lack of attention during classes was threatening to ruin any chance of making it into a good school. His life during the past few months had been hell, feverishly working double shifts in an attempt to maybe afford community college at best. Not a single new penny was spent on what HE wanted, and if worse came to worst, he'd probably have to sell his entire collection, all for the chance of becoming some generic, mind-numbing corporate slave. Nick hated it. And right now, he wasn't very fond of life in general. He longed for the freedom and ecasty of being a pokemon all the harder - to the point where it was beginning to affect his productivity. But, there was no chance at all of ever fullfilling this dream. He was human. Pokemon was nothing but a nonexistent fandom. 

That is, until the ad appeared, asking "Do you want your dreams fulfilled?"  during a youtube video.  Nick was right about to click the "skip ad" button when something caught his eye: 

An eevee, joyous and content, bounced along on the screen, letting out a satisfying purr as its eyes suddenly fell on Nick's. The teen shuddered as the eevee skipped right up to the screen, placing its paws up against the screen, staring directly into his eyes. For a split second, they almost seemed to switch souls. It was almost like the eevee WAS him, and for a mere second, he was free from the bland, depressing human world, trading it for the simple bliss of the pokemon world. 

Then the eevee suddenly jumped down and ran offscreen, and the ad continued with some boring generic music. Nick paused, shaken by the experience, and then desperately pressed the link a second before the video expired.  

That was a week ago.  

Now he was here, in front of a dirty, old office/warehouse complex that supposedly contained the thing that would change his life. It looked much more like a headquarters for a drug ring or "Nigerian" scammers than a science lab, but at this point Nick didn't care. Things were getting more desperate back home, and if he passed this possibility up, then he'd pretty much just resign himself to the dull, depressing reality of life. 

He entered a clean but old lobby and was quickly ushered into the building's depths by the far-too-perky secretary. He had signed all of the paperwork online, so all that happened was him being quietly ushered into a brightly-lit concrete room, bare of anything except a red electronic sign, a single ceiling light, and what appeared to be multiple fire sprinklers stationed on the ceiling. 

Nick began to have second thoughts when "TESTING: TRIAL 1" blared across the sign in big, white letters. The realization of what he was doing suddenly dawned onto him as the door slammed shut and locked itself, sealing him in. What was he doing?!?  He can't become a pokemon!!! And now, who-knows-what horrific experiments will befall him?!? 

Trying not to cry, Nick looked around him, looking for a way out. The room was sealed in by a heavy metal door, with no chance of escape. All Nick could do was stand in the middle and console himself. "M . . . maybe the experiment won't be so bad? M-maybe it's just a psychological test or something!" 

After a few intense minutes of nothing, Nick became aware of a thick, heavy gurgling coming from one of the 'sprinklers' above him. Confused, Nick peered up . . . only to be splattered in the face by a giant, freezing blob of tannish goo. 
 
Nick immeadiately recoiled in shock, trying to shake the icy-cold stuff off. His arms flared wildly as he stumbled around the room, feeling a numbing sensation in his face as the goo attacked the vulnerable skin underneath.  The goo rapidly warmed up as it began absorbing his body heat, spreading across his face and envelooping his eyes and nose. 

Nick sneezed as the goo began climbing up his nostrils, squirming as the slippery, clammy liquid traveled up the nose and began pouring into his throat, coating everything it touched in the sticky, gooey rubber. 

At this point, the teen began to choke, coughing and hacking on his knees as his airpipe was slowly clogged up with gooey, rubber-like liquid. He couldn't see anything but darkness, and all he could smell was the oddly, increasingly pleasant scent of rubber. 

In desperation, Nick tugged at the goo with his left hand, then froze in horror as he felt the slimy stuff sticking to it, peeling off his face and rubbing against the flesh on his fingers. 

In a second, Nick realized that there was nothing he could do. His entire face felt numb, skin being squeezed and coaxed by the rubbery latex. It felt suprisingly comfortable now, resembling a warm, liquid blanket that protects his weak skin rather than attacks it. 

The struggling teen crumpled to the floor, feeling more and more sticky, gooey latex drip down from the faucet above onto his now nearly round head. His airway was completely clogged up with a slowly churning river of warm rubber, which filled into his lungs. Nick expected to die any second, and already he was feeling lightheaded and dizzy, slowly losing what remaining sense he had of the outside world.  

Yet. . .  Nick didn't die. 

He lay on the floor for what seemed like hours, slowly breathing in and out and feeling the latex pump through his blood vessels with every breath. The liquid rubber . . . s-somehow it was providing oxygen to his starved cells and tissue, yet at the same time was eating away at those same tissues and . . . replacing them?!? 

Nick wasn't sure what was happening on the inside of him, all he knew was that whatever it was, it was somehow allowing him to breathe, and sending up small twinges of raw happiness as the goo rubbed over his nerves.  

His brain pulsed and throbbed as his pleasure center was overwhelmed by the goo plastering his entire face . . . and was it his imagination or was his face . . . stretching? 

Nick let out a small moan of joy as the goo built up in front of his face, smothering any human features in layers and layers of liquid latex, then pushed outwards into a small, meek muzzle. As the bulk of the goo traveled downwards, washing over his neck and shoulders, inhuman features began to form on this new, featureless face. Nick's face itched as a button-sized, blackening nose popped out from the gooey muzzle, the vague outline of a squeaky, canine mouth appearing soon after. 

The teen felt his eyelids being forced open by the suprisingly strong rubber, which began washing around and seeping into his eyelids, expanding them beyond a human capacity. Nick shivered in both pain and pleasure as his eye sockets and skull expanded right along with his eyes, dilating and filling up the majority of his face. His drug-riddled brain could now barely make out anything other than pleasure, and the soft expanse of the goo growing ever wider across his body. 

Yet, in his dazed and weakened state, he had one thought pounding into his mind, over and over again:  Eevee.   This . . . this goo felt like eevee, slowly softening and shaping his features and morphing them into his beloved pokemon. Nick struggled with the thought, weakly combating both the supressive, intoxicating drugs and mental numbness plauging his brain. C . . . could it be possible?  Nick didn't dare to even hope. It couldn't be!  

Suddenly, he heard the vague sound of a second faucet sputtering on, and instinctively stretched out a hand towards it. His outstretched hand was met with the warm, loving touch of the liquid rubber, which by now felt like an addictive drug coating the body. If Nick still had a mouth, he would've been grinning from ear to ear as he ran his arm underneath the faucet. The spread of the goo was hearalded by soothing, wonderful euphoria, spreading like wildfire through his nerves as the gooey rubber coated his weak, vulnerable skin. 

Nick felt odd twitching on the sides of his head as two rubbery tendrils suddenly shot upwards, thickening and tapering into what felt like . . . ears? Long, pointed ears?  Nick gasped and shuddered as he felt a slight breeze brushing across these new, mysterious appendages. 

His head felt completely inhuman. He couldn't even feel his own head underneath all that goo, and was it him, or could he actively FEEL the wind pushing against the rubber, sensing every dip and delicate change in vibration and temperature as well, if not better, than his own human skin?  

Suddenly, the world seemed to open up as the goo lost hold of his eyes, allowing them to open. Nick weakly blinked, beginning to take in the room around him on the floor. 



To be continued!   Part 1 of this series  
Comments and critique appreciated!  Hope you like it!  





 

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