This isn't Oz

There were fuzzy red lights in a black void, blurring in and out. A line and two circles. Couple of dots.

One o’clock. AM? PM?

Monday.

How long... had I been out? I’d had some crazy dream....

My hand felt made of lead, and my fingers bumped against my forehead when I tried to rub it, something sharp slicing my skin. Ow.

What the.... I brushed at something fluffy, trying to flick it away from my eyes. It caught on my fingers, tugging hard on my scalp, and I hissed. What—? Hair? Since when did I have a fringe that brushed my eyebrow? On... one side of my face?

Jill. I was going to kill her—

That was when I noticed I was sitting, not lying down, and this was not my room. Also, as annoying as she was, even Jill couldn’t make hair grow longer, not even for a joke. Something... something was going on, here.

Oh hittz, I’d gotten run over.

...Hittz?

I squinted at... what slowly came into view as something like the cab of a truck, but the dashboard had no buttons, no wheel, nothing except strange knob things. And it... pulsed. Not a light-pulse, a fleshy throb, like frigging veins.

I shoved a disoriented gag back into my throat. What the hell? Was I in hell? The whole space rumbled underneath me. I could feel vibrations now that I focused on it, like I was in some kind of vehicle, but whatever make of meat-car this was it was.... Hittz, “meat-car” summed the whole can of maggots up.

Hittz. There it was again. The despaar?

...

What.

Hold on, I’d just thought it before. Why couldn’t I say h—despaar.

What was going on here?

...Screw this, I wasn’t going to question this right now. Putting that aside for later. I ran my hands through my... now somehow longer hair, putting a clamp on cursing I couldn’t seem to say, and spat out anyway when I somehow eviscerated my own head. What the—?

I found myself looking at... claws? Sharp nails?

Claws.

I—?

No, those were definitely black claws attached to my otherwise-normal fingers, like someone had forgotten the rest of the furry outfit. Sharp as knives and tipped in blood. Heck, I’d gotten hit hard enough to grow what felt like some kind of side-shave emo twink haircut and freaking claws, I couldn’t swear properly, and I was trapped in... whatever this was.

Had I really died? Was I stuck in a freakish coma nightmare? All I could remember was running, trying to call the police, Jill choosing to be complicit to my murder, and then nothing. Nada.

I... had been chased by a ute, or a semi-truck. Something big. I took another look at the cab, peering out the window at rain and darkness thick enough to make the headlights it seemed to have barely show what looked like a rough road.

...Had the thing fricking eaten me? Was it some kind of crazy sentient alien truck?

Hah, a sentient alien truck. What, would it stand up and do a dance next? Take me to its leader? It’d already messed me up—heck if I was getting digested by this thing.

I smacked the side of my fist against the flat space where the wheel should be. “Pull over and let me out, you fricking alien freak-show.”

A glow rippled where I hit it, but it didn’t respond.

We’ll make it to the stop soon, a chipper voice in my head chirped instead.

The squishy fleshy interior found out what it was like to own a cat when I attempted to phase through the corner and look everywhere at once. Was that the ute?

Actually, it is a truck, just not a semi. This is my, I guess yours now, supply-transport familiar.

“...You’re not the meat-truck?” Was somehow the first thing my blue-screening brain managed to spit out.

No, I’m the soul you replaced! It sounded... weirdly cheerful, for all that. This is my body, but you’re possessing it right now.

“...What?” I didn’t feel that different apart from the hair and the claws— “Wait, what about me? What about my body?”

...I don’t know? I’m Nerraw, by the way, in case you didn’t notice the identity tag. I’m just a low-level vampyr, I don’t have my daemon form yet, but—

“What?!” Hold on— “You’re a what?”

I promptly cut my tongue on extremely long and pointy teeth. “Hittz! Argh— Are you also the reason I can’t even swear?”

...But you are swearing?

...I rested my head in my hands, breathing out long and slow through frigging vampire teeth and tasting blood on my tongue. At least the pain went away quickly. What kind of barrakeisht—gah—acid trip was this?

You’re not in Kansas anymore, my fairy-godmother shoulder angel cheerily informed me. Great, the quotes were another point in favour of this being absolute b— bolognese.

I laughed into my elbows. I was going to strangle someone. If this truck had a neck, I’d find it.

Are you losing sanity already?

“No thanks to you,” I ground out. “What the despaar is going on?”

Oh, you died and your soul got melded to mine when we hit you. The truck grumbled past the abrupt static in my ears, and the voice cooed at it. I know, I know, girl. It’s alright, I’ll make up for all the claw marks with the tortured souls of our enemies when we get to the fueling station.

So I had—? I suddenly got the distinct feeling of staring down at my own borrowed body through a flatscreen with a bad signal. “You’re saying I died?”

Oh, that seems to be a translation error. You got transmigrated to another plane of existence.

Sounded like just another way of saying I’d died and wound up in— I avoided stumbling over that again. Translation error. Must’ve meant I was speaking a different language, not that I could tell. Whatever swears this language had sucked donkey—

Donkey?!

I burst out laughing. Who the despaar— This was about to kill me. You know what, from here on out I wasn’t questioning a thing. I was done with this freakish nightmare. Sayonara, sanity.

My friendly new bodymate made concerned noises at all the hysterical laughter, as if he wasn’t the reason for all this, running me over. If he only he had a neck I could throttle without choking myself. Thanks to him I was maybe dead, so he could go—

We abruptly came to a stop hard enough to slam my head against the dash. Fricking Matilda— Damn that hurt.

Huh, looked like some words still worked.

I hissed between my teeth, rubbing at my head and barely remembering to use the flat of my hand before I sliced my forehead open again. Ow. “Could you give me a little warning next time?”

Oh, we’re here, my helpful inner voice announced ten seconds too late. Damn him.

There’s no need to be rude....

I aimed two middle fingers at my own head and slapped at the door, somehow managing to open it without a handle to grab, and stumbled out into a wall of wet. Ugh, I’d forgotten about the rain. Pawing at the back of my neck for a hood gave me nothing except another scratch. Great, I could already feel this stupid fringe plastering over my eye. Forget the hood, I’d take a pair of scissors. “Your damn vampire fashion doesn’t include staying dry?”

I squelched my way towards a watery light under what looked like the overhang of some building. At least I seemed to have boots. This place didn’t have great drainage.

Oh, no, but the clothing’s waterproof. And fireproof. And resistant to blades. I dry quickly though!

“Fantastic,” I grunted, making it to shelter and slicking his stupid hair back away from my eyes. “You got scissors anywhere?”

Oh, that was an accident. I was practicing bladework with my murkpool-sibling and failed to dodge properly. It’s a mark of my mistakes and my need to improve. Please don’t cut it.

“Yeah, well, I’m not you.” I checked for pockets, the water dripping off a jacket lined with some kind of oily fur. There was the nametag he’d mentioned, but the pockets I was looking for seemed to be more like weird pouches attached to my belt. And a knife sheath, complete with knife, met me. Aha.

No, wait! You want to go back, though? Don’t you? If that happens you won’t be stuck in my body forever!

I squinted at the blade in my hand. It was just reflective enough to show me a face that still looked like mine from what I could tell, apart from pasty white skin that had never seen real sunlight, and with a hairstyle that did look like someone had taken a knife and lopped it, complete with a tuft at the back already springing up again. “You’re saying you’ll help me get back to my own body if I keep the haircut?”

Yes! I’ll help you! Just don’t cut it please! Please!

I snorted. And Jill called me a wuss. Angling the knife, I narrowed my eyes at a strange mark on my cheek, just below my left eye. Some kind of tattoo? “Alright, fine. You help me, and I’ll put up with your shave. Deal?”

Yes, yes! I give my word on my honour as a subject of the Daemon Lord! Please put my knife away.

“Sweet as.” I flipped it in my fingers and slotted it neatly back into its sheath with a thunk that was more satisfying than it had any right to be. “Let’s hit the road and get back to the city, then.”

...Ah? The... city?

I frowned. “Yeah, the city where you ran me over.”

But... we’re not in your world.

Hold on. “What do you mean, we’re not in my world? You were just in my world. Smack in the middle of Brisbane.”

That was because of the talisman. It pulled me over. But now we’re back in my world, and I don’t know how to get back to yours.

...Hittz. Hittz. It wasn’t like any of this was normal, but it could’ve at least been some fever dream back in Oz, instead of being in Oz. Was any of this even real? “There’s a way back.”

Well....

I pulled the knife out. “Because if there isn’t, you’re getting shorn.”

No no! I swear! We’ll find a way back! There are a lot of powerful artifacts and summoning tools you can use for things like this! We’ll figure it out!

“Good.” I shoved the knife back to his sigh of relief. “But if I find out you’re leading me on, you’re done.”

Yes yes. Now, if you’d be so kind, can we please give Mussy her fuel and get back to my route? I’m already behind schedule.

With a snort, I glanced around. There were no pumps I could see, just the front of this rustic building and the wooden overhang playing waterfall. “You’re a vampire truck driver.”

Well, technically I’m a supply runner for the glorious Darrecko Empire, whahr whahr.

...

Right.

“So where’s the pump?”

Oh, the materialise should be just inside.

The what-now? I looked around for a door, and found a splintered and worn excuse for one set in the stone wall. It creaked like it hadn’t been used in years when I pushed it open, the rain drumming off the roof. A drop pattered on my still-wet hair, which hadn’t dried despite what my cowardly shoulder devil said. Who maintained this place? It was leakier than a rusty bucket. I could see damp patches and drips pattering onto the dirty wood floor everywhere.

It was interesting that I could see, what with it being dark outside and raining to boot, but I assumed it was thanks to the vampire thing. There was a hatch in the middle of the floor, and shelves stocked with plain boxes, but no cashier or anyone to look after the place, vampire or not, from what I could tell.

...Was it just me, or did this seem like the setup to a horror movie?

Hm, usually the materialise would be saying hello by now....

Just what was this “materialise”, anyway? I opened my mouth to ask—

Skrtch

The hairs on my neck slowly rose as a soft gurgle hissed off to the side, in the deeper shadows, something scraping against the floor. I turned slowly, hoping this wasn’t what I thought it was.

An inky and half-melting humanoid figure shuffled forward exactly like a zombie in every movie or game would, and opened a mouth full of jagged rotting teeth at me.

Oh, I think someone let them out.