Grandma's Boy
My stories are copyrighted, so NO takee!
Grandma's Boy
By William W. Kelso
"Steve! Where's my dinner, you lazy boy?" A loud grating call came from down the hallway.
"Coming Grandma!" Steve yelled, putting a plate of soup, some bread, and a small salad on a tray. He added a large glass of milk, some cherries, and napkins, then balancing the tray carefully he went down the hall to Grandma's room.
"About time, I thought I was going to starve to death!" The old woman in the bed grouched as the young slender man entered the room.
"It's not even six yet, Grandma." Steve said as he sat the tray down on the small table next to the bed, and then helped the old woman to get up and sit in a chair so she could eat. She slapped away his hands, and said,
"Leave me be, I can still get out of bed, I'm not dead yet!"
Unfortunately not, Steve thought, as he helped her sit down. He knew what was coming next.
"The soup's too hot! The bread is stale! You call this a salad! The milk tastes out of date!" And on, and on, bitch, bitch, BITCH!
I wish you WERE dead you old hag, Steve thought as he smiled and endured the oral bombardment, he was used to it. No matter what he did it's never right, not once did she ever say 'thank you', you miserable old bag of shit! He waited 'dutifully' until she was through, and then helped her into bathroom. He waited while she took care of business; grimacing at the gross noises coming from the bathroom. Then he helped her back into the bed, enduring more insults, and making sure she had the remote for the TV he gathered up the tray and left.
He set the tray down on the counter, and put the dishes in the sink to wash them. There was a perfectly fine washing machine, but oh no, cheaper to have him do it by hand. Then once he was done he finally got to have his own 'dinner', if you could call it that. A baloney sandwich; and his bread WAS stale, and an almost over ripe apple and little else. No salad, Lobster Newburgh, fresh bread, or cherries for him. Oh no, he got crap any bum would turn their noses up at. His food always came from the day-old bakery leftovers, the cheapest brands or stuff on sale. 'Wasn't worth the extra money' to buy him decent food, Grandma always said.
At 9:00 sharp he returned to the bedroom, and as usual Grandma had fallen asleep watching some show. He turned the TV off, woke her up briefly to take her pills; more insults, then 'tucked' her in, made sure the bathroom light was on with door just open a crack, and left. He'd be up at 6:00 sharp the next morning to fix her breakfast, stick her in her wheelchair, and spend the day dragging her around. It was the same every day. Get up, feed her, drag her around, feed her, drag her around some more or take her to see some equally disgusting old friend, feed her, and tuck her in, forever, for years. No free time, no days off, NOTHING! He was a good little cook, butler, ass-wiper, chauffeur, and in short he was a fucking slave, period. What did he get in return, room and board, which was about it. No salary, no nothing.
He assumed he'd inherit her estate, and the old lady was rich as sin, but she sure never spent anything on him! What did he get for presents? Clothes and underwear, period. Even his clothes were second hand and he wore them until they literally fell into rags. He had no friends, no life, no prospects, and he wasn't getting any younger either. How long would it take the old bat to die anyway?? She had to be at least a hundred already. He was half tempted to just tell her to stuff it, and leave. What would she do, yell at him?? Problem was, he had nothing. No savings, no car, nowhere to go, nothing. He'd been here, what, fifteen years?? No, more like seventeen, taking care of the ungrateful old bitch. True, she'd taken him in after his parents died, when he was what, about eight? But still, she treated him like a slave, not even like a paid servant. At least they would get something out of putting up with all the bullshit! He wanted something better!
As he headed down the hall to his cubby hole of a room, he had a cot instead of a real bed; he paused at the entrance to her study. He knew he wasn't supposed to go in there, but feeling a streak of independence he pushed the door open and entered the dim quiet room. He turned the lights on and looked around. He'd been there before, to clean; which he did once a week as part of his 'chores', but had never opened any of the drawers or done anything other than dust and run the sweeper. The room was furnished with old antique furniture, with a huge old leather chair behind the massive desk. She's told him it had all belonged to her Grandfather. He wasn't worried about being caught, her pills including a sleeping pill, so she was out like a light until the next morning. He could blow a trumpet in her ear and she wouldn't stir. He sat in the chair and looked around; one day this would all be his, his payment for years of humiliating groveling and servitude. And the first thing he'd do was sell it all and go live somewhere far away.
He pulled open a file cabinet drawer and flipped through the neatly labeled and alphabetically filed folders. He was impressed, there were stock market and bank statements; the old bag really was loaded! He finally found what he wanted, "Last Will and Testament". Eagerly he opened it up and read it, read it again, and then in a spasm of rage he threw it across the room. He wasn't in it, not even a mention! She left all her 'worldly possessions and assets' to her sister! That old lady was crazier then Grandma was! She creeped him out big time. She looked like a witch, and rumors were she was one. She came by to visit once a week; or he took Grandma to visit her, and if anything she treated him worse than Grandma did, which wasn't saying much.
He sat and saw red for awhile, steaming, God how he hated that old bitch! He was expected to be her damn slave her whole life, and when she finally did the world a favor and dropped dead he'd get NOTHING! He balled up his hands and pounded on the ornate padded leather ink pad covering the top of the desk. It wasn't fair! Well FUCK her! He got up and re-filed the Will and shut the file drawer, and made sure everything was neat and tidy before he left. The evil old Harpy had sharp eyes, and if she spotted the smallest thing out of place she'd freak on him and he'd get an hour long lecture about 'how he owed everything to her, and without her he'd be nothing!' Well, that was going to end. What would she do without HIM? She could hardly get around, he had to take her everywhere in a wheelchair. And was it a nice powered one?? Oh no, not when she had a slave to push it! Maybe he'd go up to the top of a steep street and let her go, and watch as she careened helplessly down the road yelling at him, and splat! Hopefully a semi would run her over, or carry her away stuck to the grill like a really ugly hood ornament, that would be so great.
He went back to her bedroom; and sure enough she was snoring like a constipated walrus trying to take a dump, and walked over to a portrait of a rather intimidating old man. Her grandfather, his great-great grandfather?, if he remembered correctly, not that he cared. He swung the portrait away from the wall; it was hinged, to reveal an imposing old wall safe. The only reason he knew the combination was he'd watched her lock and unlock it he didn't know how many times. He knew what was in it too, cash; lots of it, and jewelry. The precious 'family heirlooms' she so loved to brag about. He knew the history of every piece, how many carats each stone had, how many pearls there were on the black pearl necklace, how many rubies in the matching necklace and broach, and so on. Grandma loved to talk and brag about each piece, and sometimes wore them around the house. It was worth a fortune. Not to mention the cash, bearer bonds, and other valuables. 'Rainy day money' she liked to call it, well, there was about to be a downpour. He looked at the stacks of crisp one hundred dollar bills, the thick leather satchel containing who knew how many millions in bearer bonds, the jewelry cases, and shut the door again. He didn't know exactly when, but he was going to take it all, and fuck her. He was owed at least that much. But now the question was, when? He just couldn't leave.
He needed to make plans. He'd take enough money to buy a good used car and hide it in around back. She never when out back anymore, he had to drive around the front to pick her up when she wanted to go out, so it would be easy to hide another car. But where would he go? He entered his room and sat down at his small shabby desk. He got online, his PC was the only 'luxury' he was allowed, but that was only so he could handle business for her and arrange for the grocery to deliver food once a week. It was supposed to be blocked as far as stuff like porn or sites other then ones she listed were concerned, but he'd easily found a way around her security wall. Stupid old fool didn't know anything about computers. It was his only pleasure.
He browsed for awhile, surfing sites about places that sounded interesting. He'd always liked it nice and warm; he always got sick and felt like crap in the winter, so finally decided on either Southern California or another semi-arid or desert like area. Then he went to his personal email account and checked it. As usual almost nothing but Spam, but there was one email from a girl he'd met on line at a 'Furry' site he liked. They both liked dragons; his persona was a male dragon, and hers was a female of course. Her name was Linda, and she seemed to like him. He'd emailed back and forth with other Furries, but she was the only one who had kept up such a long almost daily correspondence with him, and lately it had even gotten a little sexual. She was his age, twenty-five, and lonely too. Her parents sounded like real jerks, and were hard core religious nuts to boot. He thought about it awhile, and then sent her an email asking if she'd like to 'go away' with him if he had some money. They'd 'talked' about it before, but neither had any money or way to support them until they could find jobs. Well, that was about to change! Next he checked a couple of porn sites he liked; the BDSM stuff fascinated him, and soon had a nice hard erection.
With a grunt he flopped down on his 'bed', and propping himself up in the corner had a nice long masturbation. He some sort of vague memory he'd had sex before, but just couldn't quite remember where or when. It always amazed him how long it took him to cum, at least two hours of nonstop wanking off. But when he did, oh man it was sooo nice! He grunted and gasped as he slid his hand up and down his well lubed shaft, his pre was all he needed, and he sped up and slowed down to draw it out. Finally when he couldn't hold off anymore he let himself cum, and moaned as thick gooey strands of cum jetted from the tip of his cock. Half a dozen big squirts followed by slowly decreasing dribbles. After the last wave of pleasure had faded he got up, took a shower, and went to bed. He had his usual dreams of being lost somewhere, a strange place where everything was huge and intimidating. But he seldom remembered his dreams, and they didn't really bother him much. The place in the dreams was strange, but not really scary or anything, and he'd never been alone.
The next morning he was up as soon as the alarm rang, and had Grandma's breakfast ready by 6:30 sharp, and then the constant nagging and whining started. This, that, nag, nag, whine, whine, nag. It was driving him crazy! At nine she decided it was time to visit her sister, so he dutifully pulled the Caddy around to the front and loaded her into it, then folded up the wheelchair and put in the back. The old car ran good, but was about twenty years old and was starting to show it. She had him do regular oil changes and take it in for servicing every now and then, but was too damn cheap to buy a new car. He knew it would break down sometime and strand them, and he knew he'd get blamed. If she caused the toilet to overflow; it was his fault, if she dropped a cup and it broke; his fault! 'You're no good, and never will be!' she would screech at him while he cleaned up her messes.
Her sister; his 'Aunt Emma', was as rich; if not richer, then Grandma was. Her house was larger and nicer, but was in an old run down spooky looking neighborhood. It had once been upper society, about fifty years ago. He pulled up in front of the old house, got Grandma out, and wheeled her to the door. As usual it took her sister about half an hour to answer the door. He always expected her to be wearing black robes, a pointed hat, and be carrying a broom. But as usual she was in a nasty old house dress, fluffy slippers, and looked like her hair hadn't seen a comb since WWII. Then he had to endure the 'How are you's?', and 'Oh, I'm fine's', ad nauseam.
He wheeled Grandma into the house, got her settled in her usual spot by a small table, then went to the kitchen to fix some snacks while the two old ladies yapped and gibbered like a couple of baboons about nothing. It was the same damn thing every time. Who had died, who was dying, a long tedious description of each of their myriad medical problems, each trying to outdo the other on grossness. And the whole damn time he would be completely ignored, unless they wanted some more tea or something. Sometimes he felt like grabbing one of the big old candelabra's and whaling on them until nothing but red jelly was left, but had a horrible feeling they'd just ignore him and keep on talking even as he beat them to a pulp.
He entered the kitchen and fixed two different kinds of teas. Green tea for Grandma, regular tea for Aunt Emma. While the tea was heating up he fixed a tray of snacks like tea biscuits, Petit-fours, and almond cookies. The only 'compliments' he got when he served the treats was "Tea's too damn strong, you'd think he'd learn how to at least fix tea after all this time, boys' worthless." You're welcome, he thought bitterly. Then he sat down and listened to their gibberish quietly, 'seen, but not heard'. After hours of mental torture Grandma was finally ready to go, so after a trip to the bathroom he loaded her up in the car and took her home. The whole time they were there Aunt Emma never even acknowledged his existence. Which was fine by him, when she did it was always some sort of insult. He wished she would drop dead and do the whole world a favor too; the world would probably have a party to celebrate.
He took Grandma home, made her lunch, cleaned the house, made her dinner, and tucked her in. The only time she talked to him was to whine that her filet mignon was too rare, but he knew she'd have whined it was too well done otherwise. Then he went to the kitchen and had his own dinner, a bowl of Campbell's chicken noodle soup, stale crackers, and a glass of tea that was too old for Grandma, she only liked hers fresh. As he ate his soup he had fantasies about a meteorite crashing through the roof and squishing her like a bug. But with his luck she'd survive and he'd have to clean up the mess while she screamed at him that it was his fault. He tried to tell himself 'she's just an old lady, you need to make allowances for that', tried to tell himself 'you love her, and she loves you, she just doesn't show it'. Well, if she loved him she sure as HELL didn't show it; and what would he do when she was gone? He had no doubt Aunt Emma would throw him out of the house on his butt with nothing. And he was sorry to have to admit that he hated his Grandmother AND her sister, hated them with a passion. Then had never treated him as 'family', only a slave who was never good enough for them no matter how hard he tried. He finished his 'dinner' and went to his room and sat down at the PC.
He cheered up considerably when he found a nice long email from Linda waiting for him. Yes, she said she would go away with him. She was sick and tired of her parents, and her mother was getting worse, always yelling about the 'the devil and evil spirits', and blaming her. They wanted to send her to some God awful 'camp' to be 'cleansed'. If he had the money she had a nice car her sister had given her after joining the service to get away from their parents. The question was, how soon did he want her to come and pick him up?? He didn't send an answer right away, but lay up late that night thinking about what he was going to do.
About three in the morning he woke up when he heard Grandma calling for him. He got up; put on a threadbare bathrobe he'd had for ten years, and ran down the hallway. The old lady was in the bathroom, and the toilet had overflowed, again. He'd tried to tell her not to put so much damn toilet paper in the bowl, but as usual she hadn't listened to him. It was nasty, she'd gotten the runs from too many goodies at Aunt Emma's, and there was shit and used toilet paper everywhere, and the toilet was still overflowing. He used a plunger to clear the clog, and started to clean up, his Grandma yelling at him the whole time. Then she got back in bed with shit all over her rear and feet and fell back asleep, and he knew in the morning he'd have to clean her up in the shower and wash all the bed linen. He finished cleaning the bathroom, mopped the floor and dumped plenty of Pine Sol everywhere, and by the time he staggered back to his own bed, having to shower again, it was almost five o'clock in the morning. With an exhausted moan he fell into bed. He was so tired he forgot to set the alarm.
He woke up when a bucket of water was thrown over him, and as he woke up he heard his Grandma screaming at him,
"Get up you worthless boy, I take you in out of the goodness of my heart and give you a home, and this is the thanks I get?? It's late, I want my breakfast!"
With a moan he looked at the clock, 6:20am. It was the first time he'd overslept, ever. Then he noticed the smell, and with horror suddenly realized he hadn't been doused with water, but urine!! The old bitch had peed in a bucket and dumped it on him! He'd been up half the night cleaning up after her, and overslept a few minutes, and now this! He looked up, but she'd already gone. Shaking in rage he went to the bathroom and took a long hot shower. She could wait for her breakfast, screw her! He had not deserved such a disgusting wake up! She could just have yelled at him. She was evil, an evil old dried husk that should have died years ago, she was just too MEAN to die!
As he exited and turned off the exhaust fan he could hear her yelling for him again. Fuck her, he thought, taking his time to get dressed. He decided to tell her to get a new slave, he was leaving. He'd take the contents of the safe and call Linda to come and pick him up. Hopefully Grandma wouldn't notice they were gone for a few days. He figured with that much money he and Linda could live well for the rest of their lives in some little out of the way place, maybe even Mexico or South America. He'd wait and leave some evening after Grandma had gone to bed, that would give them a few hours head start. He was looking forward to seeing the look on her face when she realized her slave was gone.
As he entered Grandma's bedroom the old lady croaked something at him, it sounded like her voice had finally given out. He walked over to the bed so he could hear her better.
"I'll get you your breakfast in a minute Grandma, but I want to tell you something first."
He started as the old lady gave a loud gasp and grabbed his arm painfully, digging in her long fingernails.
"M-my pills, heart pills...!!" She muttered.
Steve suddenly noticed that the tray with all her numerous meds had been knocked off the nightstand and were scattered across the floor. He looked for the bottle of Nitro pills, but couldn't see it anywhere. He looked under the bed, but no sign of it! He started to panic, she was making the most horrible gasping and groaning sounds, and when he stood up her eyes were bugging out and her face was turning red. She suddenly sat up and grabbed his arm, and stared at him, and gabbled,
"Worthless boy..."
Then fell back on the bed and gargled, making choking sounds, and died, just like that. As she'd sat up he'd finally seen the Nitro pills, the bottle had been underneath her, but it was too late by then. He tried to give her one anyway, put it in her gaping mouth and poured water in, but it just washed the pill back out.
Shocked, he sat and stared at nothing for awhile, and was surprised when two lone tears ran down his cheeks. Maybe he had loved her a little bit after all, and he certainly hadn't wanted her to die like this. But what should he do now?? He knew he had to call someone, the police, or most likely Aunt Emma. He picked up the phone and started to dial, hesitated, and then hung up. No, she'd just throw him out of the house; he had no doubt about that. He pulled a sheet up over Grandma's face, he couldn't bring himself to try and close her staring eyes.
Going down the hall to his room he sent an email to Linda and told her to come now, or never. He told her the truth, that Grandma had died from a heart attack and they had to get out of here before anyone found out, otherwise he'd get nothing. He told her to pull around back and honk, and he'd be waiting for her.
He rummaged in a storage closet until he found an old suitcase and a large carryall bag he'd remembered seeing. It took all of five minutes to pack the suitcase as he had three pairs of jeans, half a dozen shirts, some underwear and socks, and a few other odds and ends. Grandma had never given him much, and he'd never had any money to buy anything. It took a lot longer to pack the bag full of the contents from the safe. Most of the room was taken up by the cash. The safe was quite large and deep, and he gave up counting at $200,000, which was only about half of what was in the safe. He had to put the heavy jewelry boxes in the suitcase; there was no room in the bag after he'd stuffed it full of cash and the bearer bonds. In the back he found a velvet bag with several large finely cut gems, and stuffed them in the bag and had to really push down to be able to get the zipper closed. He had to use both hands to carry the bag to the back door and put in next to the suitcase. The whole time he half expected to turn around and find Grandma sitting up and staring at him before she started screaming insults at him again. If that happened he figured HE'D have a heart attack! Then he had to stop as he was feeling kind of funny, a little weak and disoriented from all the excitement.
Steve froze as he heard the front doorbell ring. Damn it, he'd told Linda to drive around the back, he didn't want the chance of a neighbor seeing them load up her car and split. Most of Grandma's neighbors were as weird as she was, but some were pretty snoopy. He ran to the door, threw it open, and froze in shock, it was Aunt Emma!
"A-Aunt Em....!" He started to say.
"Where is she you stupid boy!?" Aunt Emma snapped.
"G-Grandma? She's taking a nap." I stammered.
"A very long nap, no doubt." Aunt Emma said as she brushed past me. "I know she's dead, I felt it. Where is she?"
"She, she had a heart attack! Steve said, I was going to call you! She's in the bedroom!"
"Planning a little tip, are we?" Aunt Emma said when she saw the bags by the back door.
"I, uh, was going to go visit some friends and stay with them for awhile." He lamely stammered.
"You don't have any friend's boy, and you're not going anywhere." Aunt Emma said as she walked back to Grandma's bedroom. He followed nervously, not knowing what else to do.
"Her pills, we couldn't find them." Steve murmured as Aunt Emma pulled the sheet down and looked at Grandma.
"I know that boy, if she'd died from other then natural causes I would have known."
"I, I tried to help her." He said.
"I know that too, otherwise you wouldn't still be here boy." She said.
What the Hell did that mean? Steve thought. "How could you know?" He asked.
"I felt her die, and saw her last moments. Like me she was a witch, we were the last of our circle, and connected."
"W-Witches?" He said in shock, so the stories HAD been true?
"Yes, Witches, but not practicing, not for a long time. We stopped soon enough to hopefully save our souls, but I don't know if it was soon enough."
Steve sat down a chair, suddenly feeling dizzy and nauseous. This was just too much to handle all at once, he thought, my Grandma had just died, and now he'd found out she really WAS a Witch!
"But, I, was my mother a witch too?" He asked.
"Your mother? Aunt Emma said, and then gave a short laugh. Oh no, your mother was definitely not a witch. In fact, my sister and I never had any children."
HE bent over as another wave of nausea washed over him, and gagged a little bit. His rear was starting to hurt for some reason, and he scooted a little farther forward in the chair, there, that was better.
"What do you mean?? Was my mother adopted?" He asked.
"What? Oh no, we never met your um, mother", Aunt Emma said, as she performed some sort of ritual, making passes over Grandma.
"But I don't understand, am I adopted?" He asked, and then moaned as his back spasmed, and he felt a ripple run down his spine, and gasped as he felt a sudden feeling of...growth at the base of his spine. His guts churned and he gave a nasty belch. Man, he felt so damn weird!
"Oh no boy, you see, you're a changeling. Your mother was an animal, and so were, are, you. We needed a servant to take care of my sister, and picked you."
He leaned forward in the chair and squealed as another wave of pain swept down his spine, and could feel his pants bulging, then suddenly felt something slide down the inside of a pants leg. Oh God, what WAS that, it felt like, like a TAIL! His skin was starting to itch and burn horribly, and it felt like it was growing too tight. With a whimper he scratched at the skin on one of his forearms that looked like it was stretching, and it tore away to reveal...scales.
"Aunt Emma, something's wrong, he gasped, I'm sick! Help me!"
"Nothing's wrong boy, it's just that now that my sister's dead her magic died with her, including the spell that changed you. You're just reverting back to your original form."
He watched in horror as she got up and left the room, and tried to get up and follow, but tripped and fell to his hands and knees as his legs cramped. He sat down and pulled his shoes off as his toes felt like they were being crushed, and stared at his toes as he pulled his socks off. They were much longer and the tips had claws, and dropping his last sock he looked at his fingers in horror as they changed too. There were rounded bulges on the tips, and turning one over he saw several rows of little ridges. He gasped as he felt his face begin to push out, and managing to stand up, staggered towards the door, just as Aunt Emma came back in carrying the bag of money and his suitcase.
With a grunt he fell to the ground, and looking down saw the tip of a tail sticking out of a pants cuff, flicking back and forth. Moaning, he tried to undo his belt and slide his pants off, he had to SEE!
"Here, you clever little gecko, let me help with that." Aunt Emma said, and then she pulled his pants off, and his shorts too.
Steve looked in disbelief at his lower body, at the long tail; thick at the base and tapering to a slim tip, at the fold of skin where his sex had used to me, the strangely splayed legs now covered completely in scales or hide, his long clawed toes spasming. He blinked an eye that now seemed much bigger than before, and said,
"Aunt Emma, pleassse, it hurtsss, help me! Make it ssstop, pleassse!"
"Be quiet, Aunt Emma said, it won't be long know, and you'll be back where you were meant to be."
With a hissing squeak he pulled his shirt off, revealing a scaly torso with a flat chest covered in finely pebble hide, no nipples to be seen, or a navel. His jaws pushed out more, and with a squeak he rolled over onto his stomach as it was more comfortable. He ran his tongue over his teeth, which felt sharper now, his tongue much thicker.
"Aunt Emma, ssss, pleasssee, I'm human, not an animal, pleaassee help me! Ssss!"
"No, you're not, you never were, Aunt Emma said, didn't you ever wonder why you couldn't remember anything before my sister 'adopted' you? Why you don't have a Social Security number, never went to school?? You silly creature, you don't exist! You were just given a higher life form and sentience to care for my sister, now you're no longer needed. Magic made you, and now that the magic has died you're turning back to normal, to the gecko you were meant to be."
He dragged himself over the floor and gripped her ankle as more cramps and nausea racked his body, his torso widening and flattening, bone structure changing as his hips dissolved, shoulders narrowing. He tried to talk, finding it hard to form the words, his tongue not cooperating.
"Plllzzzz, Anty Emma, plllzzz, Sssss, I huumaann, not amnul, Ssss, plzzzz!"
Aunt Emma looked down at the large brown lizard like creature grasping her ankle in one of its paws, large wet looking reptilian eyes staring at her, and gently shook her leg loose. The gecko tried to speak again, but only made a squeaking chirping hissing sound, its large bulging inhuman eyes filled with utter terror.
"Look, she said, you did a good job of taking care of my sister. I'll take you someplace you'll like, where there will be others just like you. Would you like that?"
Steve couldn't answer, he felt his body shudder, and then it rapidly began to shrink. He was vaguely aware of the back door bell ringing, and Aunt Emma getting up to answer it. "Sssinda! Ssssss!" he managed to grunt, that being the last partially human sound he could manage. No, it's not fair! He thought, as it became harder and harder to think, to concentrate. I'm human, it's not fair!!! By the time Aunt Emma had sent the confused girl on her way, and returned it was over. He was only six inches long now, nothing even vaguely human remaining.
As the small reptile tried to scurry under the bed Aunt Emma grabbed him and held him up. She watched as the last spark of intelligence in his eyes slowly faded into dullness, and the gecko wriggled in her hand, desperate to get loose.
"Well my dear little Steve, it's over. I guess its better you'll never remember having been something else for awhile." She popped the frantic little creature in a jar, being sure to punch holes in the lid.
She made a few calls, and contacted the proper authorities. Then waited until a hearse came for her sisters body, and then locked up the house; taking the money and other valuable of course, and went home. On the way she stopped by the side of the road at a vacant lot with piles of rubble, overgrown with brush and small trees. Bending over she shook the jar, and watched as the gecko scurried out, looked around, then made a beeline for a nearby rock and disappeared under it.
"Enjoy your natural life Steve, she said, you stopped aging when the spell was cast, so you have your whole life ahead of you."
Then she turned and got in her car, and left without looking pack.
Steve watched from under the safety of the rock as the large animal went away. He'd escaped! He raised his head and looked around carefully, but no sign, or scent, of danger. He'd wait here until the cover of darkness; it was safe from birds and other predators. Seeing some movement back deeper under the rock he was delighted to find several small insects of some kind and feasted, swallowing the large; to him, insects alive. Belly full he dozed under the warm rock. As he slept he had dreams about a strange place of bright lights and loud sounds, but the dreams didn't scare him. Some small part of his deep subconscious vaguely remembered having once been something else, but he couldn't remember what. He also remembered dreaming about where he was now, but it no longer seemed strange and intimidating, it was where he belonged, he was home. He hoped he could find the female he had mated with before, it had been so enjoyable, and it was the season. He knew there were other geckos about, he could smell them.
As dark fell he began to chirp, and was soon answered by other gecko's. Eagerly he scurried off to find them, happy to be home.
The End
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