The sewer was dark, the only light coming from a few scattered candles. Water dripped from the ceiling, landing on the forehead of a naked man lying on the cold ground. The droplets kept falling, one after another, until the man stirred.
He woke with a start, sitting up and wiping the water from his face. His fingers trailed over unfamiliar features, sharp cheekbones, a lean jaw.
"Urgh, what happened?" His voice echoed in the damp tunnel as he stood. His gaze dropped to his body, and he frowned. "Why am I naked?"
He turned, scanning the dim space, then froze as he took in his own form, the unfamiliar build, the unfamiliar everything. His hand drifted down. 'This isn't my dick. And why am I… not fat?'
"Did I get kidnapped or something?" he muttered.
Then, in the shadows, something caught his eye, a strange, gooey mass. Cautious, he stepped closer, searching for something to poke it with. His fingers brushed against a knife on a nearby table. He grabbed it and prodded the substance.
"What the hell is this?"
A sudden rush of memories slammed into him. He clutched his head, vision swimming with flashes of faces, strangers, places, Jared Padalecki and then, the truth. The real form of what he now was.
When the onslaught faded, his breathing was ragged. A slow smirk curled his lips. "I'm a shapeshifter. From Supernatural."
Panic set in as he realized the Winchesters would come for him. "Fuck, what should I do?" His own voice sounded foreign as he stared at Zach's reflection in a murky puddle, Sam Winchester's friend staring back at him.
"This won't work," he muttered through clenched teeth.
The thought of changing his appearance filled him with dread, both from the expected pain and the unknown. He took a deep, steadying breath. "You can do this, Seth Mercer."
Drawing on the knowledge buried in this stolen body, he began the agonizing transformation. Bones cracked and shifted beneath his skin as Seth screamed, the sound echoing through the sewer tunnels. He clawed at his own flesh, peeling away strips of skin and throwing them aside while his body writhed in unnatural contortions.
Teeth clattered to the ground as new ones pushed through bleeding gums. Nails tore loose from their beds. The pain was excruciating, unbearable, yet his body continued rebuilding itself relentlessly. His hair lengthened, his features sharpened into handsome symmetry, his physique reshaping into lean, fighter's muscle.
Kneeling on all fours, panting and dripping with sweat, Seth finally stilled. The transformation was complete. Where Zach had been now stood Anakin Skywalker, right down to the distinctive eye scar, the first image that had come to mind during the brutal metamorphosis.
"I need clothes," Seth rasped, pushing himself upright.
He rummaged through the sewer's detritus until finding discarded garments. The pants were uncomfortably tight, but they would do. A wallet on the table held $1,000, which he pocketed along with a knife tucked into his jacket.
"This should be enough to get out of town," he murmured.
The sewer's exit ladder led to a deserted alleyway. Seth emerged under cover of darkness, the night air doing little to mask his lingering stench. He kept his new face angled downward, mind racing with plans: supplies first, then escape, all while avoiding cameras and prying eyes.
As he walked, a shop selling sunglasses and caps caught his eye. Seth entered with his head lowered, avoiding attention. The clerk behind the counter frowned at the strange customer keeping his face hidden.
Grabbing a black cap and sunglasses, Seth put them on before approaching the counter. "How much?"
"Five dollars," the clerk answered.
Seth pulled out his wallet and handed over a hundred-dollar bill. As the clerk counted out his change, their eyes met and widened in recognition. "Anakin?"
Seth pressed a finger to his lips in warning before quickly exiting. Behind him, he heard the clerk whisper excitedly, "I just met Anakin Skywalker in the flesh."
Moving down the street, Seth scanned storefronts for camping gear. 'Should've picked a less recognizable face', he thought. 'I'll change it later.'
He purchased a camping bag, clothes, soap, perfume and towels for about ninety dollars. Next stop was a gym where he bought a five-dollar day pass. In the locker room, he showered and changed into his new clothes, spraying perfume on himself and his bag before leaving.
"Where to now?" he muttered. Without ID, renting a motel room would be impossible. "Guess I'll wait at Greyhound until morning."
After asking directions from passersby, he found the bus station an hour later. Too early for the first bus, he leaned against the outside wall and fell asleep.
Hours later, three figures approached the sleeping man. His clean clothes marked him as an easy target. Two acted as lookouts while the third knelt beside Seth, searching for valuables.
The thief's fingers found the wallet. 'Got it', he thought, just as Seth's eyes snapped open.
Seth's fist connected with the man's face, sending him flying unconscious. Before the others could react, Seth was already moving. He tackled both remaining thieves, their bodies hitting the pavement like sacks of concrete.
Seth sighed as he surveyed the would-be robbers.
He didn't give them time to draw weapons. A right hook dropped one man while the other barely had time to reach for his pocket before Seth's left cross knocked him out cold.
Standing over the unconscious trio, Seth grinned. "My reflexes are insane. My strength too." He rifled through their pockets, collecting six hundred twenty-three dollars and a Beretta 92FS with ten rounds in the magazine. After engaging the safety, he stashed the gun in his camping bag.
With one last look at the defeated thieves, Seth moved to find a new resting spot, blending in with the homeless population until morning.
Every passing person put him on edge. The robbery attempt had stolen his ability to sleep. When dawn finally broke, he abandoned his makeshift bed and headed straight for the Greyhound station, arriving just as it opened at 7:30 AM.
Approaching the male receptionist, Seth kept his voice low. "Know any good places to lay low for a while?"
"Memphis would work," the receptionist replied.
"Good. I'll take a ticket for the earliest bus there."
"The 8:30 AM departure work for you?"
"Perfect. How much?"
"Thirty-five dollars."
Seth handed over the cash and took his ticket. He found an empty seat in the waiting area, watching the clock until boarding time.
When the bus arrived an hour later, Seth stored his belongings in the luggage compartment before finding his seat. For the first time in hours, he allowed himself to relax. Within minutes, exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a deep sleep as the bus pulled away from the station.