Kate World - Too many extras!

The day had been peaceful so far. I was walking through the mall, enjoying a well-deserved break after several intense days working on my comics, while also taking advantage of the trip to stock up on pencils, inks, and screen tones at the art store. My outfit was the same as usual—a black miniskirt and peep-toe heels that highlighted the legs I’m particularly proud of, which is odd given my shyness. Though I suppose it’s a way to draw attention away from the rest of my body, specifically my torso. Four arms and two pairs of breasts aren’t easy to hide, so I usually wear a loose-fitting sweater with four wide sleeves to somewhat conceal my peculiar anatomy. I was happily carrying my art supplies when I turned a corner near the restrooms and stopped short at the sight of a young woman with a radiant smile. She was dressed in vibrant, colorful clothing and radiated an aura of pure happiness. "Hey!" she said in an overly friendly voice, stepping in front of me. "Excuse me for asking, but you're a mutant, aren’t you?" “Yeah, it’s a bit obvious,” I replied, surprised, as I raised my extra arms. “Well… yeah,” the girl admitted awkwardly, though her smile never wavered. “And that’s all you have?” “…I also have four breasts, and my toes are kind of long, so I can use them like hands,” I said. For some strange reason, the sincerity in her smile made me more open about my mutations. “Wow, super!” she exclaimed, giving me an enthusiastic pat. “So… would you like to mutate even further?” she asked, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “I’m mutant enough,” I said, a little uneasy. “And I really don’t want to try any of that mutagen stuff, sorry.” The girl’s expression shifted to horror, and she waved her hands frantically. “No, of course not! I’m not a drug dealer!” she said, aghast. “Look, I know this sounds weird, but I’m a genius.” “A… genius?” I asked, skeptical. She looked a few years younger than me. “Yes, I know I don’t fit the standard genius look, but I really am one. Even my aunt—an incredible scientist who works in a mutant experimentation lab—has admitted it,” she said, rummaging through her bag. “Thanks to the materials she’s provided, I’ve been developing mutant medicine and have achieved some results.” “What kind of results?” I asked. Despite the implausibility of her story, something had piqued my curiosity. Suddenly, she pulled out a small plastic box with four compartments, each holding a tiny pill. She held it up with a triumphant grin, as if presenting a priceless treasure. “This is my greatest achievement—temporary mutation pills. They’re not dangerous like that unpredictable green liquid. Each pill induces a mutation with about 90% accuracy… or something like that. And it only lasts a few hours.” “That sounds… interesting,” I said, still incredulous. “But why offer more mutations to mutants? Wouldn’t normies with mutant fantasies be more interested?” “Yeah… well, I haven’t fine-tuned it for normies yet,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly. “But I’ve tested it on a couple of mutants, and I need more trials. And you’re mutant enough for the test I need.” “How did those previous tests go?” I asked. She hesitated before answering. “Well… better than you might expect. And they’ve always returned to normal—I’ve adjusted the dosage to minimize the drawbacks.” “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I’ll pass,” I said, trying to be polite. “It’s a little scary, and I’m not sure I want to be more mutant than I already am.” The girl pouted, then noticed the bag of art supplies in my hands. “Are you an artist?” “Yes, I do comics.” “About mutants?” she pressed. “With your mutation?” “All kinds. I think it’s important to represent as many mutations as possible in graphic novels”. “Don’t you think experiencing other mutations firsthand would help you understand them better?” she said, her tone persuasive yet kind. I fell silent. It was insane—completely insane—but ever since the comic book convention, my life had changed because of one thing: taking risks. “Okay, you might have a point,” I conceded. “But you swear it’s reversible?” “Yes, 100%,” she said, eyes shining with hope. “Fine, I’ll try them,” I said nervously, taking the small box. The pills were tiny, just a few millimeters in diameter, and a deep pink. “Go on, try one!” she urged. “What, now? Here in the mall?” “I want to be here in case anything happens—though it’s almost impossible for there to be any sort of problem,” she added quickly. “And you don’t need water—they’re chewable.” I popped the first pill into my mouth and swallowed. It tasted surprisingly good. “So, how long does it take to—” I cut off as a strange itch prickled the side of my neck. My shoulders widened slightly, and in seconds, a lump formed on the left side of my head. The collar of my sweater stretched as a second head emerged beside my original one. I gasped as new sensations flooded in—eyes, nose, mouth. I nearly tripped over my heels. The girl caught me just in time. “Holy crap!” I exclaimed in unison with both mouths once my vision stabilized. I coughed, adjusting to coordinating two sets of breathing and sensory input. My reflection in the mall’s tiled wall confirmed it: I now had two heads. The left one had hair as long as my original but messier, no makeup, and no glasses, leaving its vision slightly blurry. “So, what do you think?” the girl asked, beaming with pride. “It’s…” “…amazing,” I alternated between heads. “Great! You’re already speaking independently!” she clapped. “I’m definitely a genius.” We exchanged numbers—her name was Harper—and I agreed to update her on the mutation’s duration and any side effects. After saying goodbye, I headed home. Walking back, I felt a strange euphoria. With dual brainpower, I could make faster progress on my comics. On the subway, I couldn’t resist making silly expressions with both heads, examining myself in detail. At one point, my lips touched—then lingered. What started as a peck turned into a passionate kiss, tongues exploring as heat pooled between my legs. When we finally broke apart, a thin strand of saliva connected us. “Wow, I’m a much better kisser than I thought,” my original head remarked, while the second one smirked. Back in my studio, I stripped down to just my heels—my usual creative uniform—and settled in to draw. With two heads, I felt unstoppable. Ideas flowed twice as fast, all four arms working furiously. “Harper is definitely a genius,” we chorused. Curious, I took the remaining three pills, one by one. The first made bumps rise on my back before four new arms sprouted, giving me eight in total. The second made my torso shudder as two extra pairs of breasts swelled beneath my originals, leaving me with eight. The third made my hips quake as my legs thickened, splitting into two pairs. I quickly swapped my heels onto all four feet, striding confidently around the studio. The extra brainpower made me feel invincible, every step resonating with power. “This is incredible,” one head said. “I can control all these limbs effortlessly. I’ve heard extra limbs take practice.” “Maybe two brains help,” the other mused. For a second, it almost felt like someone else was speaking—but I brushed it off as my imagination. I marveled at how much work I could do now—eight arms, two heads, double the productivity. Of course, I couldn’t forget these mutations were temporary. Then my phone rang—my mentor. I answered calmly, not mentioning my new additions (though, as always, I mentioned the heels—he loves them, and his voice softened instantly). After hanging up, my second head smirked. “You should’ve sent a picture. He’d have lost his mind.” I froze. Until now, I’d thought of her as just an extension of me—but that comment felt too independent. I tried ignoring her, focusing on my work, but she kept interrupting. “This is boring,” she sneered. “You’re too vanilla. People want violence. Sensuality. Tentacles. Sex.” “Shut up!” I snapped, surprising myself. “This isn’t just about sex—it’s about representing mutants’ experiences.” “You’re a repressed hypocrite,” she shot back. “Pretending to be shy while flaunting your legs in sexy heels. You want sex. I know what you’re thinking.” The argument escalated until we were physically fighting—a chaotic tangle of limbs as my second head wrestled for control. She was winning, my own arms betraying me as she grew stronger. “I think it’s time for someone more determined to take over,” she declared. “And once I do, I’ll—” Then, suddenly, she vanished. The silence was abrupt before she was reabsorbed into my body. Relief washed over me, but exhaustion followed. Without the extra brain, my limbs were uncoordinated—legs stumbling, arms flailing. Somehow, I dragged myself to bed, waiting for the mutations to fade. The next morning, I woke up normal—four arms, four breasts, two legs. Only the deep muscle aches remained, making work impossible. Extra arms were great for drawing, but without the second head, they were useless—and I had no desire to deal with a doppelgänger again. Harper called, eager for feedback. I was honest—the good and the bad. She apologized and promised to refine the extra-head effects. We stayed in touch. Lying in bed, sore and naked, I dictated a new comic idea into my phone: Title: And Then There Were Two. Chapter One...