[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/rFsVPbQ.png [/img][/center][center][h2][b]The Mandela Effect: Part 14[/b][/h2][/center] [center][b][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5132366]Previously On Create-A-Hero[/url][/b][/center] [center][b]Aubrey Adkins[/b][/center] [center][b]Pacific Point, CA[/b][/center] When I finally woke up, my head felt like someone had ran it over with a semitruck, then placed it in reverse, and proceeded to drive forward again. I have not felt this hung over since I was a freshman in college. Yet, I had no clue why I was hungover. I need an insane amount of alcohol to even begin feeling buzzed because of my superhuman physiology. While caffeine has a similar effect on me as alcohol does on normal people, I know that I had not consumed enough to give me such a splitting headache. Once I could finally think straight after the ringing in my head had subsided, yet not entirely gone, I suddenly realized that I was no longer in my apartment. I found myself lying on a giant web that seemed like something I could create, but I had no memory of making it. How did I even get here? I remember falling to sleep in my own bed last night. I then heard the faint buzzing of my cell phone reverberate through the abandoned factory’s dead silence. I really hope it didn’t fall down to the factory’s floor. Although my phone was clearly still functioning, a fall like that would probably force me to buy a new phone. God, that would suck, as I had just purchased a new one. [color=b22222]“Where could it be?”[/color] I muttered aloud as I scanned the web just in case it had somehow stuck to the sticky strands. While I was looking around, I suddenly felt something made of hard plastic in my hand. When I peered down, I discovered a cell phone had spontaneously appeared, as I knew it had not been there a few seconds ago. But this could not be my phone, as it looked nothing like mine. Sure, its design does match my tastes and therefore would be something I might have bought, but I have never seen a model like it. [i][/i] I was definitely not expecting the cell phone to speak without me using one of the usual prompting phrases that normal AI, like Siri, would normally possess. This thing is way more advanced than I would have thought from my initial inspection of the device. I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. [color=b22222]“Sure,”[/color] I answered. However, after I gave my response, I suddenly realized something. Why would my work be sending me image files? My photoshoot for August was scheduled for later this month. What could this be? Then “my” phone emitted the projection just in front of me. What I saw was quite bizarre, for several different reasons. First, the image was not a 2D projection. Instead, the phone must have extrapolated from the image file and generated a 3D replica of the scene captured by the camera. In fact, the hologram was almost as realistic as those hologram cubes that the Game Genie used. But the weirdness did not stop there. The “me” in this illusion was wearing the exact same softball uniform that I had picked out when all us Viera models had to divide up several sports related occupations for the August issue. But this should have bene impossible. I never participated in this photoshoot! God, was that damn shapeshifter screwing with me again? Yet, the bizarreness did not end there. The image looked like someone had loaded it into Photoshop and had turned up the ridiculousness of my comic book physique to 11. What was up with the thickness of my hair? My softball uniform, in turn, did not fit my body in the picture, as it had been tailored to my [i]actual[/i] body. God, if I wasn’t already ridiculously stacked, I probably would have been mortified at how it looked like someone had stuffed two overinflated balloons under my shirt. I then continued to slip my finger across the phone’s touch screen. With each swipe, the next image from the photoshoot appeared before my eyes. Once I finally arrived at the last picture, I gave out a sigh of relief. This imposter could have done way more damage. Sure, there were some sultry poses, but this other me did not do anything ridiculous, like stripping off her clothes. [color=b22222]“Alright, turn off projection,”[/color] I told the phone. Since I did not see any visual buttons that would have turned off the hologram, I guess asking the phone to terminate that function would have been my best bet. And Sure enough, the phone followed my request. Ever since I woke up, something was bothering me. Something felt off. Up until now, I could not quite place my finger on what it was. I probably could explain this feeling partially from my mind being groggy from just waking up and partially from my preoccupation with my discovery that someone was impersonating me again. Yet, when I realized that the silk of the giant spider web I had be reclining on was making direct contact with my skin, I contorted my human half and peered over my shoulder. What I saw just compounded the confusion I had felt ever since I woke up. [color=b22222]“Where the hell are my clothes?”[/color] I muttered aloud once I realized that the only articles of clothing left on my body were some spiderweb-patterned fishnet stockings and my usual red boots I wear whenever doing my superhero work. I did find the part of my costume that would cover my spider half lying next to me, but the rest of my costume was missing. It was in this state of undress that I realized that the “me” I saw in my supposed photoshoot was not an impostor or a manipulated and doctored picture of me. Well, I guess there [i]still[/i] could be an impostor, but I looked exactly like the woman in those pictures: the hair, the even more ridiculous body proportions. What the hell could have caused this? [color=b22222]“What?”[/color] I asked when I was taken off guard by such a specific answer, let alone an answer at all. What the hell is going on? First I have no memory of how I got in this abandoned factory. Now, I apparently participated in a romantic evening with Will that I have zero recollection of. This was feeling like I have been stuck in a bad dream. [color=b22222]“Do you know what happened during our...err...‘romantic encounter?’ We didn’t have—”[/color] I felt so ridiculous asking a cell phone what had happened last night. While I asked my question to this futuristic device, I found this gray bomber jacket on the web where my human half had been lying. I had never seen this jacket before, but it possessed a patch on its sleeve that matched my spider icon on the back of my costume. While it was the middle of summer in Southern California, it was better than staying topless. At least it appeared that the sleeves had often been rolled up to elbow length. I began to place my arms through sleeves of the bomber jacket when the phone replied to my question. That was quite a peculiar way to say that nothing really happened. Yet the news was much welcomed. I don’t know how I would have felt if my first time with Will had happened during this gap in my memory. [color=b22222]“Alright, could you explain how I got—” I interrupted myself as I continued to have difficulties with this bomber jacket. I was able to zip it up halfway, but the rest of the way felt like trying to zip up a suitcase overflowing with clothes. [/color] [color=b22222]“My God, was this even designed to zip all the way up?”[/color] [color=b22222]“Sorry, just having a little wardrobe difficulties here,”[/color] I answered as I finally was able to zip the jacket all the way up. Wow, this thing is quite tight around the chest. [color=b22222]“[i]Anyways[/i], how exactly did I end up here in the first place?”[/color] [color=b22222]“Will has powers? How could that be?”[/color] I asked when I heard this new revelation. The artificial intelligence within the phone seemed to be ‘thinking’ before it responded to my voice. [color=b22222]“What? How could it be the 8th?”[/color] I exclaimed as soon as I saw the publishing date of the article that was being displayed by the phone. Well, that would explain my splitting headache that I woke up with. But whatever erased my memory must also be linked to my my change in physical appearance. Otherwise, I have no other possible explanation for losing two entire day. Meanwhile, ‘my’ cell phone had finished enhancing the picture it had been displaying for the pass couple minutes. Although the image displayed clear alterations to my superhero costume, the color scheme and some design elements remained familiar. The bomber jacket the “me” in the picture was wearing was identical to the one I found this morning. Once I saw the jacket, I was confident that the image was not doctored. That was me, or at least some version of me. [color=b22222]“Phone, could you juxtapose one of my Viera photoshoot pictures next to this image? Could you pick one that has a similar pose as the currently displayed image?”[/color] As soon as the second image appeared, an acute dread washed over me. The costume that I had wore ever since I became a superhero used a mask that covered my entire face. But this alternative costume from this image left my jaw exposed. Although it would require someone examining the image under a microscope, it was only a matter of time until someone made the connection that both Arachne and Aubrey Adkins had undergone several bizarre physical changes. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I have tried to keep my driderness under wraps ever since my run-in with the Pacific Ghost a month ago. After a few moments, guilt crept into my mind. For this entire time, I had been keeping my parents in the dark about my superhero career. I convinced myself that ignorance was bliss. But if my identity as Arachne were outed because of these images, the little white lies I had told my parents to keep them from worrying about their little girl would be all unraveled. [color=b22222]“Phone, could you call my parents?”[/color] [color=b22222]“No, no. Just audio.”[/color] While the dialing tone of ‘my’ phone softly echoed through the abandoned factory, something dawned on me. I had yet to reveal my secret identity on my own volition. My friends from college deduced my identity from my voice. The few heroes who had learned of my real name discovered it through various means other than me voluntarily giving that information. In fact, I might not have told Will about my arachnid condition if I had not slipped up and revealed one of my spider legs. The butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. The feeling intensified with each ring of the dialing tone. Maybe I was not ready for this. My hand shook as I reached for the touch screen of the phone. However, before I could cancel the call, I heard my mom’s voice echo through the phone’s speaker. “Aubrey! Your dad and I have just finished up some yard work. Your dad left to grab us something for lunch, but he’ll be home soon. How is our favorite daughter?” [color=b22222]“Mom, I’m your [i]only[/i] daughter.”[/color] “Yet, it doesn’t make it any less true. So, how is the West Coast treating you?” [color=b22222]“Oh, it’s fine,”[/color] I answered my mother. Yet, the butterflies that lingered in my stomach caused my voice to fluctuate. “Aubrey Rose, you wouldn’t be calling your parents just to say you’re fine. Is there anything wrong?” [color=b22222]“No, no. There’s nothing wrong,”[/color] “Aubrey Rose,” my mother repeated. [color=b22222]“Fine, I have something I need to tell you, but I don’t quite know how to say it.”[/color] “Are you pregnant?” [color=b22222]“What? No! That’s ridiculous. I’m not pregnant.”[/color] “Aubrey, you can’t blame me for asking. How is a mother supposed to act when her daughter denies anything being wrong despite the tone of her voice?” [color=b22222]“Okay. But promise you won’t freak out.”[/color] “Alright, alright. What do you have to tell me?” [color=b22222]“Fine, I’ll just say it. I’m Arachne.”[/color] “Oh, I didn’t know they were making a movie about her. That sounds like a wonderful opportunity!” [color=b22222]“What? No, that’s not what I mean. I’m not playing her in a movie. I [i]am[/i] her!”[/color] After I made my clarification, my mother did not provide an immediate response. Dead silence was the last thing I wanted to hear. Damn it, what have I done? I must have freaked my mom out with the image of me with a giant spider fused onto me. Had it been the right thing to call and tell them the truth? Surely hearing this from me was better than from the news, right? [color=b22222]“Mom?”[/color] I cried out into ‘my’ phone. “Sorry, Aubrey. I just can’t get my head wrapped around what you said. Arachne is all spidery and creepy-crawly. You’re nothing like that.” [color=b22222]“I know this sounds impossible, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this.”[/color] “When did this happen? How?” My mom asked. [color=b22222]“Do you remember that scare at the hospital when I went missing for a day after I suffered that injury that we thought was going to cut my last year of college ball short?”[/color] “Of course, I do. I was worried sick every single moment of that day.” [color=b22222]“Something happened to me while I was gone. Although my leg was miraculously healed, I gained another condition, one that caused me to take on those spidery characteristics.”[/color] “Why didn’t you tell us about this, Aubrey?” [color=b22222]“I was afraid. I wasn’t sure how you would respond to the news of what I had become. I still wanted to be your little girl and not some giant spider creature.”[/color] “Oh, Aubrey—” [color=b22222]“I’m so sorry I lied to you and Dad,”[/color] I began to break into tears as a wave of guilt washed over me. [color=b22222]“I thought it would be easier to tell you little white lies instead of revealing the bizarre world I joined when I had received my powers. There were things I just could not explain without revealing my condition. Would you have believed that I got my job at Viera because a shapeshifter impersonated me? Or that a breast reduction you suggested me to get a few months ago would have been a waste of money because my powers would have made them grow back? God, I don’t know how you and dad believe me when I said that I [i]actually[/i] liked the ridiculous size of my boobs.”[/color] “Your dad and I just wanted you to be happy with who you are.” [color=b22222]“And I have started to accept the [i]new[/i] me. But I’m so sorry for lying to you. I didn’t know how to explain the extraordinary things that had been happening to me.”[/color] “Aubrey, I’m you’re mother. I’ll always love you. It’s my maternal instincts. Sure, I’m disappointed that you thought we wouldn’t accept you and what you have become, but I understand why you did it.” [color=b22222]“Thanks, mom,”[/color] I said while I wiped the tears out of my eyes. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” [color=b22222]“No, I don’t think I have anything that can top what we just discussed. In fact, I probably should be heading out soon.”[/color] “Alright. But could you call back this evening so we can talk with your father about [i]this[/i]?” [color=b22222]“Sure. I can do that.”[/color] “Remember we love you, Aubrey.” [color=b22222]“I know. I love you, too.”[/color] And so, the phone call was concluded. I felt like I had removed a heavy weight from my heart, now that I gotten my secrets off of my chest. Sure, I was not quite ready to make my identity public but telling my parents about it was a good first step. I finally stood up on my eight, spidery legs and stretched out my limbs. I was quite ready to get the heck out of here. After I had tied up my unruly locks of hair into a ponytail in a vain attempt to control it, checked out my immediate vicinity and found a large window that I guessed I could just barely squeeze out of. By the time I was sticking my human half out of the window, something else dawned on me. I almost left the rest of my costume behind; I needed to retrieve the remaining pieces, else I would be leaving too many breadcrumbs of my identity. I therefore hopped back down to my web. Because of the lack of light that was reaching the building’s floor, I basically would be wandering blindly in the dark if I were to descend and search for the rest of my costume. Instead, examined the power nullifier around my wrist. Although its design was definitely different from my own, there were still some similarities. One function of [i]my[/i] power nullifier allowed me to recall my costume, even when I wasn’t wearing it. I assumed the power nullifier I was wearing shared that function. After I located what I believed was the button that would initiate the aforementioned function and pressed it, I waited to see if anything would happen. In my rush to retrieve the missing parts of my clothes, I overlooked that it would also affect the bomber jacket and leggings I was currently wearing. As soon as I noticed that they were dissolving off my body, I quickly pressed the button again. This not only stopped my clothes from disappearing, but it also started to cause the rest of my costume to cover my body. In a few seconds, I soon was clad in the weird alternative version of my costume that my phone had shown me before I called my parents and revealed the truth about me. Well, at least my spider half was now covered up. Despite my lower half being arachnid in nature, it never felt right leaving it exposed. At that same moment, I heard the soft beating of some feathered wings from outside and something landing right on the window I had intended to use as my escape route. I recalled that my phone mentioned that I had supposed encountered with a villain with wings last night. My mind wondered whether this person had found me again. Yet my spider-sense was not going off in head. I soon got an explanation for my internal warning system not going off when I heard Kyra’s voice come from behind me. “We need to get out of here,” she warned me. [color=b22222]“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice, Kyra,”[/color] I responded, but when I turned around to face my teammate and friend, I was shocked at what I saw. She had somehow been changed, much like I had been. She no longer had her fox features. Instead, she had pointy, almost elflike ears, along with elongated arms covered with avian feathers that made her limbs look like bird wings. Furthermore, unless I was mistaken, the physique of her human half almost reminded me of my own figure before whatever the hell had happened to me. [color=b22222]“Kyra, what happened to you?”[/color] As I spoke up for a second time, I saw a puzzled look form on Kyra’s face. “How do you know my name?” Kyra urged me to response. [color=b22222]“Kyra, it’s me, Arachne.”[/color] I tried to explain, but her expression did not change. Maybe this could explain how I lost two entire days of memories. Unless out of sheer happenstance, the changes that both of us had undergone must be related. Maybe it had also changed my own memories, too, and it took my healing factor a few days to restore my original consciousness. But that still leaves a few questions unanswered: who or what did this to us and how could it be reversed? “Bleaching your hair and taking a cover name won’t fool me, Black Widow. So answer me, how do you know my name?” Kyra asked for a second time. After she had spoken, she then hopped down onto a ledge that the giant web I was standing on was connected to. [color=b22222]“Don’t you recognize me? It’s me—”[/color] As I spoke, I pulled off my mask and revealed my face to Kyra. [color=b22222]“Aubrey.”[/color] As soon as Kyra saw my face, her face went pale, almost as if she had seen a ghost. She pressed her hands against the wall behind her and her legs began to buckle, although she still had enough composure to keep her footing. But before either one of us could utter another word, several large explosives ignited on the first floor of the building. The flash from these explosions momentarily blinded me. After that, I could not recall much else. There were only bits and pieces of what happened before everything went black. The web gave out from underneath me, while Kyra and I plunged down to the factory floor with the entire building caving in on itself.