I, I underwent a change. Do you like it?” Victoria asked.
Her husband Jorge was speechless. He backed away. Knocked over a lamp. He found himself against a wall.
“Uh, honey, what have you done to yourself?”
An overnight, unexplainable, dramatic transformation left his beautiful young wife no longer human. Victoria now had the athletic humanoid body of a praying mantis. She had become an Enzectozoid.
In reality, she was only one of many to undergo metamorphosis into a half human, half insect. It was all over the news, but they had been too busy to see it.
Victoria now had a light green exoskeleton. Her insect abdomen protruded out behind her like as if she wore a permanent leafy green dress with two leaf-shaped tails behind her. Seemingly delicate wings occasionally fluttered at the small of her back. She was transformed. She was more beautiful than she had ever been in her life, but her husband could not see it.
“Please get away from me,” said Jorge.
“Jorge, it’s me, Victoria!” she cried.
She tried to reach out to him. She had not yet full control of her new body. Instead of a gentle touch of reassurance, the segments in the arm stretched out to reveal razor sharp blades.
Jorge backed away just in time to avoid being cut diagonally in half. Then he realized he really had been cut and saw a small amount of blood. He grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
“911 first response how may I direct your call?” said the operator.
“Get me the police,” said Jorge, “My wife’s turned into a giant bug!”
“Sir, this is not a number for prank calls.”
The phone in his hand suddenly sliced into several pieces. Victoria was scared and confused, not knowing what she was doing. Jorge ran out the door. Victoria soon heard Jorge’s car screech out the drive way. He would not be back, she knew it.
Victoria had to calm down and answer two questions: What made her this way? Could she reverse it?
She already knew the answer to the latter. She was stuck like this. But then a glint of hope entered her mind. Her sister, June, had once housed an Enzectozoid, or whatever you call it. Surely June would understand. Victoria found her cell phone.
“June, how are you?”
“Oh, hey Victoria!”
“Jorge and I had a fight. Can I stay with you and see my nephew?”
Excerpt from “Enzectozoid Chronicles: The Legacy of Whartleburg the Whalloper” from the curiously long book of short stories, I am lettuce, who are you?
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