The Transformation Inspector Three (Patreon)

Thomas stood on the porch to the apartment looking at his notes for a moment before ringing the doorbell.

A man in his early thirties answered the door, “Yes?”

“Hello, I’m Inspector Thomas Ryder of the Mage Guild: Transformation Division. Are you Bernard Folkwell?”

“No. My name’s Harry Earnest.”

“Do you know Mr. Folkwell or perhaps you’re aware of where he may be? I have a disconnected telephone number and this address as a last known address.”

“Sorry. Never heard of the guy.” Harry turned around and called out. “Joley? You know a… what was his name?”

As Thomas repeated the name, Harry’s wife reached the door. “Who’s this?”

“I’m from the Mage Guild. I’m looking for a man named Bernard Folkwell.”

“I don’t know who that is. But the name sounds familiar,” she said. “Oh, we received some mail addressed to a Bernard something a few times. We sent it back to the post office but they had no forwarding address for him.”

“Do you still have any of this mail?”

“I might. Please come in.”

Thomas was led to a chair in the living room where he sat with Harry until Jolene returned with a pair of envelopes. She handed them to Thomas.

“Can I keep these? I don’t want to open them here in case I might get some kind of reading from them.”

“Sure, they’re yours. Is magic fun?” she said. “I’ve never met a magician.”

“Wizard. Magicians are stage performers. And while some of them may also be spellcasters, all wizards are spellcasters.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“How long ago did you move in?” Thomas said.

“Four months?”

“Yes, four.”

“Notice anything weird when you moved in? Did you need to dispose of anything?”

“No, the apartment was completely empty when we arrived. You could even smell that it had been painted recently,” Harry said.

“There’s that wall thing.”

“Don’t start with that.”

“I’m not starting anything. He asked,” she said.

“It isn’t important. It’s probably a fire break or plumbing runs for the three apartments above us.”

“May I ask what you’re bickering about?” Thomas said.

“I’ll show you,” Jolene said. She got up and Thomas followed her to the kitchen. “Stop here in the doorway and look at that wall and the wall in the kitchen.”

“One of them is closer than the other.”

“Exactly. That’s what I told Harry.”

“He sees it, too?”

“He’s a wizard, Harry,” she said.

“Do you mind if I cast a spell?”

“I’d love to watch you cast a spell.”

“It’s not that exciting,” Thomas said and mumbled some words of power. A green mote of light appeared on his finger and he pointed it at the wall in the living room, the wall that looked closer than the kitchen wall.

Almost immediately, a line of green light formed between his fingertip and the wall. As he swept his arm across the length of the wall, the second line would continue moving with his finger and the original line remained anchored between his finger and the wall. When he was finished, five thin green lines connected his finger to five distinct spots on the wall.

“I was afraid of that.”

“What is it?”

“Can you call your landlord? I’ll need to have that wall opened up.”

“What?” Harry said. “Why? What’s special about the wall?”

“Nothing. But behind it are five transformed individuals who probably weren’t transformed according to Guild regulations.”

* * *

Thomas entered his home around the same time he always came home from work.

“Is that you?” Sonia called out from the kitchen.

“It always is,” he called back.

“There’s something for you to look at on the coffee table.”

Thomas took off his jacket and hung it. He removed his shoes and put them away. In the living room, there was an official Guild form, he could see it was a Guild form from as far away as the doorway. It was the only thing on the coffee table.

As he approached it, he could tell by the layout of the fields it was a PT4/G form – a permanent gender transformation form. Before he could get close enough to read it, he heard Sonia enter the room. He said, “Is it for Grace or Bryce?”

“There are two forms on table.”

He picked them up. The top one listed Gregory Ryder as the recipient of the transformation. The other form was for Rebecca Kellian. He could find no mistakes in the forms’ data. The Guild section was not yet filled out. “I suppose they’re serious.”

“Gregory wants you to bring the forms to work to file them tomorrow so the three month waiting period will be up by June.”

“And I suppose I’ll be casting the spells?”

“They would appreciate that as well. They want to have a big party and have you do the spells about an hour into the party. Like a combination going away party and birthday party.”

“How big of a party?”

“It would also serve as a graduation party with all their friends. Your brother and his family, my siblings and their family, the Kellians, Becky’s aunts, uncles, and cousins, some grandparents, and I think Becky has an older brother with two kids who would also be invited.”

“Who’s paying for all this?”

“Well, they figure we’d be saving money on the spells and that money could pay for the party. Are you okay?”

“Joe is going to rib me for years.”

“Yes, he will. And you deserve it. From what I understand, Rebecca has a decent cheerleading scholarship from Georgia Tech and she loves competitive cheer. She says Bryce was never going to get a football scholarship. And she was always planning to get a biology degree.”

“Is she doing it just for the scholarship?”

“No, the scholarship sealed the deal. She and Greg have spent the last month transformed as much as is possible within the limits imposed by the forms they filled out a couple months ago.”

There was a short silence. “You blame me.”

“Blame? Probably the wrong word. I’m very happy for Gregory and Rebecca. But, yes, you instigated their exploration.”

“Where are they?”

“At her house, they’re telling her parents about their plans.”

“Is Greg planning to go to Georgia Tech as well?”

“No, Greg’s career plans are unchanged. He’s going to study fashion design. He’s just far more interested in programs in Georgia than he was a few months ago.”

“What’s for dinner? I need to digest both dinner and this party idea.”

* * *

“It’s ingenius,” Joe said.

“It’s vile.”

“Oh, c’mon, Thomas. This is the kind of spell we dream about encountering and figuring out how to deal with.”

“Easy for you to say as you don’t have to deal with it.”

“There is that. How’s your son?”

“Don’t start that.”

“Do I need to remind you about the lesson at the academy which warns about using transformation as punishment?”

“No,” Thomas said flatly.

“I think I do.”

“Get out of my lab.”

Joe laughed. “Fine, fine. Good luck with the mannequins.”

The room was quiet once Joe left. Only Thomas and five mannequins, recently excavated from behind a wall in an apartment. It had taken over a month to get the paper work and court order executed. Thomas had hoped it would just be a matter of restoring them to life and interviewing them about who had done this to them.

One problem: the normal restorative spells didn’t work. After another week, Thomas had discovered the spells affecting the mannequins were all intertwined. They could not be dispeled individually. One top of that was the issue of the second mannequin from the right. He had identified her as Monica Ratkowski, a former student at Brown University. She had been reported missing four years ago. The spell affecting her was powered by her own desire to be a mannequin. And it seemed she loved being a mannequin. How the rogue wizard had managed to tie the other four spells into this spell was remarkable: ingenius, according to Joe.

Even the typical temporary spell he usually used to communicate with long term transformees could not penetrate this spell. A consultation with the Psychic Division merely confirmed that she was absolutely happy in her current state and no enchantment existed that was feeding false sensory data to her. She loved being a mannequin and never wanted to be alive again.

The others had no idea she was the reason they could not be restored. All of them wanted the transformation to end. He had been able to communicate with the first three. He was going to talk to the fifth one now.

After casting the communication spell, the head of the fifth mannequin turns back into a human head.

“What? Who are you?” it said.

“Be calm. I’m Thomas Ryder of the Mage Guild: Transformation Division.”

“Are you going to turn me back to normal? Please. I’m going insane.”

“Calm down. Unfortunately, there’s an impediment to restoring you beyond this limited communication spell. What can you tell me about the person who turned you into a mannequin?”

“Roger? He seemed like a nice guy. We dated for a couple months before he went nuts. He started saying we were made for each other and would never be apart. At first it sounded romantic. But, then he twisted it and started saying I’d never speak to another man – guess he got that one wrong – I’d never have to work another day in my life. And then he showed me the others.”

“How many others?”

“Twelve. After I was transformed, he showed me twelve other mannequins that I assume were also formerly living. He arranged five of us in a pentagram and cast this long ritual of a spell. There were lights and I felt something drawn out of my body.”

“Are you a wizard?”

“Level 2. I can do a spell that cleans and performs minor repairs to fabrics, paper, and leathers. I worked as a consultant for several dry cleaners and furriers. This communication spell is going to end soon. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, what’s your name?”

“Joyce Vreehooven, Guild account 345AT2.”

“I’ll be sure to look you up. What else can you tell me about Roger?”

“Um… He’s not quite six feet tall. Average build. Light brown hair, brown eyes. Clean shaven.”

“Last name.”

“Williamson. His mother called once. He said she lived out of state but never was more specific about it. I only knew him for a few months. We weren’t at the meet the family stage.”

“Where did you meet Mr. Williamson?”

“Vermont. I was on skiing holiday when we met and had a conversation. He said he lived close to where I lived and suggested we get in contact when we left Vermont. About two weeks later he sent me a text inviting me out to dinner. He was charming at first.”

“The spell is ending. It’ll be a few days before I can cast it again on you. Thank you. If you can think of anything else, remember it until I contact you again.”

“Why can’t you restor--?” Her head turn back to a hollow plastic shell.

That had not be as informative as it had seemed. All four women he had spoken to had known Bernard Folkwell by a different name. Thomas was going to update the file to rename him John Doe. All the details of the lives he presented to the women were contradictory. Joyce had just said he had a mother. Based on the first three women’s comment, he was estranged from his dead mother that one of them had been introduced to. That was just one of a dozen data points that were completely at odds with one another.

There was one common thread. He would meet the victims while they were on vacation. And he would happen to live near them. It would be hard to track down but he was going to cross-reference move-in data with these vacations. He would have to find out from the women the exact dates they met him and the exact dates he made contact with them after they were home from their vacations.

* * *

Gregory came in the door and sat down in the living room. Thomas looked over at his son and asked, “Black eye?”

“You’ll laugh. I had to defend Becky’s honor.”

“By fighting?”

“It had started out friendly enough. Some of the guys were ribbing Becky that I’d taken her balls. She’s made this joke herself so I figured it wasn’t a big deal. But they persisted in their taunting and it made my blood boil.”

“Testosterone is a powerful drug.”

“More likely it was the adrenyline. I let it get the better of me. I grabbed Brad by the shoulder and spun him around saying something like he better stop talking shit to my girlfriend.”

“Let me guess,” Thomas said. “He just used that to poke more jabs at Rebecca.”

“Yeah. I punched him in the nose. He got a couple lucky hits on my chest. But soon he was on his ass and a kick to the ribs had him crying uncle.”

“The other guys verbally pounced on him about being beat up by a former woman. I told them to shut the fuck up and then it got bad.”

“What happened?”

“One of them said, ‘Lighten up, Dude. Are you still getting your period?’ to me. I took out two of them before I got the punch in the eye. A bunch of people at the party jumped in to separate us at that point. All of us were tossed out.”

“How did Rebecca react?”

“She’s mad at me. I don’t blame her. That’s exactly how I would have reacted if I had been her. I feel so stupid. She wouldn’t even let me take her home. She caught a ride from Susie Ostlen.”

“Your best friend, Susie Ostlen?”

“Former best friend. Her boyfriend doesn’t like her talking to me. And while she’s told her boyfriend to mind his business, she doesn’t spend as much time with me as she use to by a long shot.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Thomas said. “You should get an ice pack and put that on your eye, wrapped in a towel, of course. Welcome to manhood. Maturity will help you keep your fists to yourself.”

* * *

Thomas called in an illusionist the next time he interviewed the four women he could talk to. They created a composite imagine of John Doe that the four of them agreed looked just like him. He seemed to be in his early forties, handsome but not overly good looking. He could probably make himself less noticable with little effort and disappear into any crowd. An image search turned up no accurate hits. The man was a ghost, moved around frequently, and somehow had enough money to go to vacation spots to befriend his marks.

But the real question Thomas wanted answered was why. According to Miss Vreehooven, there were eight other victims he had no clues to the whereabouts of.

All the divisions were trying to help out as this case was getting unwanted attention. Mr. Earnest had posted to social media about the Guild coming in and wrecking his apartment. Curses and Gæses wanted to pay a visit to Mr. Earnest. That wasn’t allowed to happen.

The Divination Division suspected the wizard had protections in place to hinder divination. Thomas’ guidance counselor had told him to go into divination. He had rejected the idea because he felt divination was too unreliable.

He was surprised when Joanne from Divinations had a lead. She had linked the illusory image, to the mail, to the spells affecting the women, to the movements of a wizard who was currently at Daytona Beach. It was that time of year when college students flooded the beaches of Florida. Thomas pulled together a team and they rushed to the Dimensional Division’s office where a specialist teleported them directly to a location near where the wizard was expected to be.

Thomas’ team consisted of fellow Transformation specialist Joe Tanner, Wards and Guards specialist Adani Farusi, and Assault specialist Vera Ippistimo. As they arrived, Vera held an amulet out in front of her and said, “Target is less that fifty yards that way.”

“Good, they haven’t moved since they were detected.”

They moved forward with the precision of a special forces squad. Their target was thought to be in the backyard of a large ranch style home in a well-to-do neighborhood. Loud music could be heard coming from the backyard.

They approached the house. Thomas, whose normal duties didn’t involve raids, remained in front in case their quarry tried to flee out the front door.

A moment after the team rounded the corner of the house, Thomas heard Adani shout, “Don’t touch it.” A massive release of magical energy followed, then silence. Thomas crept over to the corner of the house and looked around the corner.

Joe was touching the latch of a wooden fence enclosing the backyard. Adani was reaching toward him trying to stop him. Vera was standing over five yards away but that hadn’t helped her. All three of them had been transformed into mannequins.

Thomas felt another release of magic and immediately hit the ground and rolled away. The edge of the house where he had just stood was no longer there. A three feet wide semi-circular hole ripped through the corner like a hot ice cream scoop had removed it.

The door to the house slammed shut. Thomas hadn’t seen whoever had just poked their head out the door and attempted to disintegrate him. He pulled a charm out of his pocket and crushed it. The emergency beacon would alert any Guild workers that some major magic was happening here.

He went to the front door and felt another release of energy, this time it was definitely not transformation magic. He went inside and watched as a teleportation portal winked close. He pulled out his phone and called his boss. “Tell no one to teleport within a mile of the target location. The target just used a portal and I don’t want anything interfering with whatever traces can be read from where he went.”

“Who’s beacon went off?”

“Mine. The other three tripped a trap.” As he spoke, he walked to the back of the house and stepped outside. “Oh my.”

“They what? What do you mean, ‘oh my’?”

In the backyard, at least three dozen mannequins of diverse race and gender were standing, sitting, and laying about as though someone had taken a picture of a backyard party and then rendered it in mannequins.