John always thought it sounded so lame. A cursed library? And not even the entire library, but a single book? It wasn't exactly threatening. Other towns got Moth Men or Goat People, but all his corner of the world got was a book? What was he even supposed to do with that? There were no haunted woods or abandoned buildings with troubled pasts to explore, no covered bridges with tragic backstories to investigate. Just a library. Maybe if the librarians or the building itself had been interesting or at least slightly creepy it could have been considered a wash, but both were painfully non-threatening. Bright colors, a clearly lit interior, and helpful, friendly staff ruined the mood before it could even be set.
Then there was the book in question. Like most urban legends, no one ever saw it themselves, but everyone knew someone who had. There was an epidemic of friends of friends of cousins who'd all supposedly had a run in with the book, but absolutely zero firsthand accounts. The story was always the same: an unfortunate person went to the library and wound up coming home with a book they didn't check out, though what this book actually looked like varied with each telling. Sometimes it was a thick, dusty tome, other times a mass market paperback. Regardless of the form, the book supposedly told a story of the person's new life, and the unwitting victim had their reality altered to match.
That specific detail always struck John as the most obvious flaw in the story. If the person had their reality altered, how would anyone know? Who was left to tell the book's story if everyone who came across it got sucked into a new world? It was like the hyper detailed accounts of cursed locations that no one ever came back from, yet somehow everyone knew everything about. It was preposterous.
At least that's what John used to think until he came home from the library with a book he didn't remember checking out. He didn't even notice it at first. It wasn't until his friend Bryan came over and saw what looked like a worn children's book sitting on his table.
"You finally learning how to read," the heavyset brunette asked, nodding towards the slim volume.
"What the fuck are...you...talking about..." John's stomach dropped when he saw the book sitting on the table. The cover was a simple plaid, with chipped, golden tape binding the spine. It was completely unassuming, nothing but a vintage children's book that had somehow been mixed with his items. "Dude...I didn't check that out," he said, swallowing hard and suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in on him.
Bryan couldn't help but laugh as he watched his buff, athletic friend back away from a children's book like it was a coiled viper. "So? Jesus, dude, you should see your face right now." Before John could stop him, Bryan walked over and fipped open the cover. "Oh, weird. It's even got our names in the title...'A Story About John and Bryan.' That's kinda creepy."
"Shut it! Right now! Shut the..." John was cut off when the title page flipped on its own, the page slowly bending as it rose and fell.
"Fuck! What the fuck?!" This time it was Bryan's turn to dart back from the table as the page settled. Both men stared at each other, silently waiting for the other to make the first move.
It was John who stepped forward, his muscled body going pale at what he saw. On the page was a crude, cartoonish drawing of a person that was clearly meant to be himself. Even the clothes matched what he had on, except in the drawing what should have been a tight t-shirt hung long and draping, while his shorts were in a pool at his feet.
"John was tired of being so tall," the large, simple letters read. "It was time for him to see the world from a new perspective!"
As soon as he finished reading the words, John felt his world turn upside down. There was a strange tingling, then a dizzying sensation, as the room seemed to rocket upwards around him. It all happened so fast that he was blinking up at Bryan's stunned, pale face before he even knew anything had happened.
"FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!" John shrieked in a high, helium squeak. The formerly six-foot-two jock stared at his shrunken hands in horror, frantically prodding at his tiny new body. He didn't even care that Bryan was watching as he lifted his new gown of a shirt and exposed his naked frame underneath, his pants and underwear having fallen to his ankles like in the picture. He was relieved to discover that, other than his loss of height, the rest of his body appeared unchanged. He still had his washboard abs and sturdy pecs, along with his toned, solid thighs and ripped biceps. Even his impressive package seemed the same, though he blushed when he realized how small it actually was compared to the rest of the world.
Bryan finally found his voice after a few silent moments of watching his altered friend poke at his diminished frame. He'd always been jealous of John's shredded physique compared to his average-at-best build, but that was tempered by the knowledge of how hard his handsome friend worked at maintaining it. Now, that was no longer a concern. "Holy shit, dude, you're...small!"
"Thanks for pointing that out," John barked, his face going crimson at the sound of his new voice. "I told you not to open it!"
"You told me to close it! It was too late! I didn't know!" Bryan lunged forward to try and close the book, but the pages flipped again. This time the crude drawing showed a strapping, muscled man with a broad smile on his face. "Bryan didn't have to be jealous anymore, because he spent all his time in the gym! All that mattered to him was how pretty he was. He didn't have time to read books! All he thought about was how to make himself look good."
The now-taller man let out a hissing grunt when his body seized. He could feel himself changing, a blissfully numb tingle while muscle and bone reshaped and settled into their new position. The top half of his t-shirt tightened as his pecs and shoulders inflated, pushing outwards and forward, the sleeves threatening to split around his thickened, granite biceps, while the bottom half suddenly hung loose when his waist tightened and drew inward. His pants were sagging at the waist but plastered around his widened quads and the enlarged globes of his ample, muscled new rear.
