Zero Malone: Formerly an Average American Boy.

Your name is Zero. Just a few weeks ago, you were a normal guy. You lived in a normal house in a normal suburb in small-town America. You lived with your mother, (Mina) your father (John) and your big sister. (Melody) You went to a regular high school and was sorta popular. You had your whole future ahead of you. The world was your oyster.

And then The Great Shift happened.

You were walking to school one day when suddenly the world went black. You lost all physical sensation for ten whole seconds. When those seconds were up, you found yourself tumbling head over heels onto a finely woven Persian rug. With your bell thoroughly rung, you try to pull your body up. Everything feels wrong. Your body is twice as heavy than your mind is used to carrying and all of that weight feels packed up and constricted by strange clothes that you do not remember putting on this morning. All of that and your vision is being obstructed by a curtain of bright red hair.

You try to stand up but stumble as your feet are now clad in a pair of very uncomfortable high-heels. Your feet twist under you as you fall backwards onto your now plush behind, a ripping noise echoing out into the apparently large room you were now in. You reach up and pull the long red hair out of your face. You find yourself in a cavernous library, decorated with some of the poshest and most expensive things you have seen in your life. Paintings from long ago, trinkets of silver and gold, hand-stitched furniture from faraway lands and shelves upon shelves of aged dusty books.
But you don't really care about that when you look down and see the brand-new body that you possess. Your view is straight down into the DD cleavage of a woman's body. Her, or your, breasts are clad in a perfectly fitting blue lace bra, an undergarment that has popped out of the front of a red polka-dot dress. The bottom of this dress has been torn right down the middle, exposing a matching pair of blue panties, stockings and garter belt. You can only assume the dress was rather tight and you tore it whilst falling backwards. On your tiny feet are, you guessed it, a pair of high heels. You reach down and rip off these heels, throwing them across the room as you scramble to your dainty feet.

You turn and see a mirror on the wall behind the embroidered couch. You see the face of a forty year old woman with bright red hair looking back at you with an incredulous look on her face. A face that was now your own.

You can't help but scream.