Future

Chapter 9: Oakley Reginald the Third

Carl woke up in a strange room, laying on a soft bed, surrounded by people wearing ridiculous uniforms. How had he gotten here? The last thing he'd remembered, he'd been about to kill one of his brother's asshole friends, then there was this green  light... And then nothing.
    "Mr. Reginald, sir, is there anything I can get you?" The man closest to him asked. His uniform was gold, and had a hat so tall it would have scraped the ceiling, if the ceilings didn't have some fancy vaulted thing going on.
    "Who the f*ck are you?" Carl asked. "Who the f*ck is this Reginald guy? What kind of stupid name is Reginald?"
    The man looked extremely nervous. "S-sir? Are you alright?"
    "Uh..." Carl tried to sound as authoritative as possible. "Everyone, leave this room immediately! I need my privacy!"
    A resounding chorus of "Yes, Sir!" boomed back at him as everyone left the room, closing the door behind them. Carl sat up and slowly fought his way out of the sea of bedding. Literally. Carl briefly wondered if this body he now occupied had a reason for a bed this big. Maybe he was a player. Across the room, he found a mirror, which he looked in. Staring back at him was a fairly handsome boy with vivid green eyes and short, dark brown hair, a marked contrast to Carl's own light brown, long and curly hair. Where Carl's face was typically short, round, and freckled, this new face, Reginald or whatever, had high cheekbones, a defined jawline, and smooth skin. In other words, Carl was pretty happy with wherever he had found himself. Next to the mirror, another frame hung, which Carl thought was another mirror for a second. He quickly realized it was a portrait of the same face he had just been studying. Only in this picture, the boy was covered in heavy, jewel-encrusted clothes. Okay, Carl thought to himself, so I'm some kind of royalty... Not bad. He turned and noticed on the nightstand next to the bed a piece of paper with some writing on it.
    It said:
    Dear whomever finds themselves in my body,
Hello! If you're reading this, it means I've saved you from a probably deadly injury. Isn't that lovely? Now, in order to thank me, all I ask is that you let me spend a brief amount of time in your body. It's not really a request, since I'm already doing it. Anyways, I inhabited your body because I, or you, since you're in my body, am one of the gifted. This is my particular gift. However, since the military started attacking people with gifts, I decided to look out for myself and fund their... Hunting. Part of this deal is that I have to pop out into someone's body every now and then and give them reports of what the freakies are doing, particularly those who are being especially annoying.
    Anyways, you don't need all that backstory. All you need to do is behave as normal. You see, the guards and servants and such don't know of my gift. I'd like to keep it that way. I'll try to return you to your body soon, but until then, keep these things in mind.
Your name is Oakley Reginald the third. "The Third" is very important, don't forget it.
You HATE gifteds. Refer to them as "f*cking freakies" or something along those lines.
If I'm off for too long, you'll have to re-dye my hair so the green doesn't show through. Hair dye's under the sink, instructions are on the bottle.
If any military people ask you to sign or fund something or whatever, do it. Give them 100% cooperation, otherwise we both die.
I think that's all. Have fun!
-XOXO, Regi <3
Carl suddenly realized he was in the body of an extremely handsome, incredibly rich boy. All he had to do was kick back, relax, and remember a few little rules. This strange world suddenly didn't seem like such an inconvenience anymore.
*
    Regi, meanwhile, was having the time of his f*cking life. He followed the typical routine that always worked around freakies, pretending to be out of his mind. Whenever that green-haired idiot, Sparkly or whatever, checked on him, he would either pretend to sleep or urgently murmur gibberish. The idiots bought it, of course. In the meantime, he had plenty of time to explore. And by that, he didn't mean this new body he found himself in. No, this pimple-faced twerp was so ghastly to look at, Regi wouldn't do that to himself. Instead, he collected mementos. The military had just rolled out a new prototype, a robot that could track gifteds, provided that it had something that belonged to that gifted. So Oakley Reginald spent his time finding small objects and putting them in his pockets. A purple bobby pin. A tissue used to blot lipstick. A knot of hair. A coin with a "K" carved into the surface. When an opportunity arose, he would slip out of the apartment and give the objects to the nearest military unit, who had been trained to accept small objects from anyone who gave the correct secret password, "Oakley Reginald the second is a monumental dick, Oakley Reginald the third has a monumental dick." He had come up with the password himself.
    Then a huge ruckus started kicking up, and Regi knew it was his chance. While the rest of the freaks gathered around the bathroom door, screaming, and the big blue haired one threw himself at the door, Regi slipped out the front door and headed down the street. It was just then Regi felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and knew that the pimply teen who was now in his body had just f*cked up big time.
*
    Carl screamed. He had just f*cked up, big time. He had been minding his own business, when suddenly one of the servants had looked at him suspiciously and said, "Oakley Reginald the second is the best person the world has ever known." Knowing he was being tested, Carl replied, "Damn right." And then the servant had whipped out a gun and shot him. 
*
    And suddenly, just like that, Regi felt the tether to his real body snap. Sh*t. Just as suddenly, from around the corner roared a battalion of military men.
    "FREAKIE!" They roared and raised their guns.
    "No! Wait! It's me, Oakley Reginald the-" Regi was abruptly cut off as what felt like a monster truck rammed into him, sending him sprawling. Something scooped him up and began soaring away as the military men cried out in disbelief.  Regi looked up to find himself in the claws of a giant f*cking dragon. Regi screamed as they circled, then landed in front of the apartment. The dragon split apart to reveal two of the freakies from inside. They huffed, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him back inside.
    "Regi, we need you to do something," One addressed him.
    "And don't play dumb, we know you're perfectly aware," The other added.
    "Depends on what you need me to do."
    "Two of our boys are bonded together. If one dies, the other dies, and one's slipping right now," one told him.
    "What makes you think I could do something about that?" Regi sassed.
        "We know what you can do. You heal people, along with the body-swapping," One of the dragon-girls said firmly.
         "Yeah, but I've only ever done it to one person at a time. And why should I help you?"
         "Because we can fly you up over the city, drop you, and never look back. No one will miss you," one hissed.
          "Okay. Point taken. I'll see what I can do," Regi reluctantly agreed.