Origin of the Story
I had played late into the night and my eyes were killing me. I wanted to sleep, but not until we had downed the boss we'd been fighting all night. An empty liter of Mt. Dew sat on my desk, mute testament to my desperation. I hadn't touched the stuff in almost a year...until tonight.
I admired my 'toon. Her graceful movements and fighting style were a big part of the reason I'd rolled a female character, even though I'm a guy. And here she was, just resurrected after another raid wipe, riding her Zhevra through the grim landscape of Blizzard's latest content. What a life our 'toons must lead, dying and coming back again and again to face a nearly unbeatable foe week after week.
I'd considered writing fan-fiction about my the adventures of a WoW 'toon for NaNoWriMo this year, but wasn't sure how it would be received. Surely there were much better things that I could write, and I was equally sure there were more than enough fan-fics out there without me contributing.
And here we were again, listening to the raid leader over Ventrilo describing what we needed to do to finally defeat this boss. I paid attention as best I could through my flagging consciousness. When the time came I stealthed my rogue and slipped around behind the boss to deliver a punishing opening move. After that it was a blur of action/reaction, the rotation of the keys, the movement of the mouse, all in time to the cadence of cool downs and energy availability. The fight was going long (again) and we were going to wipe (again) if we didn't deliver more damage per second. I popped a potion and a trinket cool-down and prayed for a swift end to this virtual battle.
The killing blow fell, the boss toppled slowly. His last words voiced by one of Blizzard's finest and recorded for this very moment. My monitor flashed with the achievements earned by our Raid and Guild for this victory and then flashed once more for no apparent reason.
I was too tired to care. I thanked the Guild leader for the invitation, and said goodnight over vent as I logged out. It was almost midnight and I was really glad tomorrow was a holiday so I could sleep in. I didn't even bother looking for my pajamas, I just stripped to my boxers and climbed wearily into bed. I was out before my head hit the pillow, the last thing I saw before sleep took me was the image of a beautiful Night Elf female that I used as a desktop wallpaper.
I dreamed as I slept. I had anxiety dreams about work, dreams about returning to military service, even the dream where I'm in my forties and back in High School and I can't remember where my classes are or what my locker combination is. Then the dream world flashed like it sometimes does and I was moving through the deep green light of an enormous forest. Each of the trees was the size of the Giant Sequoias, some even larger. There were owls hooting softly as they flew in search of prey, big cats prowled at the edges of my perception and enormous spiders lurked in the undergrowth. I moved, unafraid of these threats, confident in my own abilities. A small settlement revealed itself through the boughs of the great trees, obviously this was my destination.
I was greeted at the edge of the village by what can only be described as an anthropomorphic tree. It was easily thirty feet tall with a flowery beard and gnarled bark-like skin. It's joints creaked as it moved and the ground shook with the weight of its footfalls. I knew it was not a threat to me and so rode forward toward the Inn. Rode? I looked down between my legs to find I was mounted on the back of a very large saber-toothed cat. I rode directly into the building and the cat disappeared, not unusual, I often dream that my mode of transportation diminishes or disappears entirely. I ran up the stairs, past the innkeeper and jumped onto a huge bed with ornately carved head and foot-boards. As I lay down, the last thing I saw before sleep took me was a beautiful Night Elf reflected in the dark glass of an inn window.
The Shift
I was jerked rudely awake by the shrieking of my alarm clock! I had forgotten to turn it down before going to bed last night and now I was wide awake, sitting bolt upright in my bed. My room came into sharp focus which is odd because it was still dark, and I am near-sighted. I blew my hair out of my face (didn't I donate that a couple of years ago?) and reached into my boxers to scratch my balls. Surprisingly after a few seconds of fumbling around I found them to be missing along with my penis. My pulse quickened, and that terrible gnawing fear that tends to dwell deep in my guts sprang into action. "HOLY SHIT WHERE'S MY JUNK?!?" I shrieked in a voice not my own. I must still be dreaming, I reached deeper into my boxers seeking answers and found what felt like a deep wound. In my panic I began to hyper-ventilate. "I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming" pounded through my skull with every beat of my accelerated heart-rate. My breasts (??) heaved with every panicked breath, no, not a wound...
A vagina.
