Okay, so. First thing you need to know? Monsters. Are. REAL. And they aren’t the harmless, kid’s-had-a-nightmare, under-the-bed type of monster. Oh no. these are the fire-breathing, wings-and-horns, eyes-where-they-don’t-belong kind of thing. Really ugly, really smelly, and just… Bleugh.

  Second thing you need to know! You haven’t noticed any monsters, because they don’t have the opportunity to stick around and cause chaos, and THAT’S thanks to my family. My sisters, and before the three of them, it was my mom. And her mom, and her mom before that, all the way, as far back as we can remember.

  Now, you might be thinking, “does that mean your family are superheroes, or space-wizards, or something?” Well, kinda. You see, every woman in the history of my family’s lineage has been… a magical girl. However, my third sister lost her powers after nearly getting killed in her st battle, and mom’s been freaking out, looking for ‘the successor’. Only… she doesn’t have to look far. The successor is both closer than she thinks, and the st person she’d expect.

  After all, no man has EVER had these powers. Why would she ever suspect her ‘only son’ might have them too?

  I put my pen down and sigh, stretching zily. It’s peaceful today, even with my mom still running around like a madwoman, searching for ‘the successor’. I can hear one of my sisters downstairs. It’s probably Tricia, still recovering from her recent injuries. I can feel the surging power within my veins, and grit my teeth, tamping it down. I know it’s not a permanent solution; I had these powers thrust upon me, and I can’t admit it to my family. If they knew, it could throw everything into disarray. Because I’d have to reveal another secret, one I’ve kept buried for years, ever since I was a kid. The kid my family knew, the kid they think they understand? He never existed. I’ve never been a boy, not ever.

  I close my diary and slip it into my desk drawer, hiding it underneath several novels and bits of miscelneous detritus, shutting the drawer, as I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. The red hair and ready smile of my second-oldest sister, Philippa, rounds my door as she opens it.

  “Yo, Rick, lunchtime! I made chorizo pasta, come and get some!”

  I sigh and fix a smile onto my face.

  “Yeah, okay. Thanks, sis.” I stand and make my way downstairs behind Philippa. Tricia limps out of her room on the ground floor, using her crutches to traverse the route to the kitchen. Washing my hands, I take a seat at the big table, looking at the set pces. Mom and dad aren’t here, and neither is Niko, the oldest of my three sisters. Philippa dishes up the pasta, as Tricia settles herself down, wincing silently. I pour her a gss of water, and she nods in thanks, fumbling a packet of painkillers out of her pocket and gulping down a couple of pills. I refill her gss, and then two more gsses.

  I take a swig of water as Philippa sits down next to me, a bowl of grated cheese in her hand. She offers it around, and I take a spoonful, scattering it over the sauce. Tricia does the same, her hand shaking a little as she grits her teeth in frustration. No-one offers to help her. Tricia gets… heated… when you make her feel weak. She wants to ‘do things herself’, which is understandable. No-one likes to feel useless, after all. And to go from a powerful magical girl to a baseline human with injuries must be incredibly hard.

  I fork a mouthful of pasta and sauce into my mouth, chewing slowly, as Philippa engages in conversation with the youngest of our sisters. They’re talking about st night’s hunt. Phili and Niko had been unable to take out their targets individually, having had to team up in order to win, but they’d managed to pull it off regardless. I listen in, trying not to show interest. I mean, I’m not supposed to have powers, since I’m A bOy…

  The rest of the day passes without incident, and my mom gets home, as stressed as ever. The st three months have been hell for her, since she’s working a full-time office job AND moonlighting as a magical girl due to the ‘missing successor’, despite having retired from that life years ago. She’s still powerful, but not as strong as she was in her prime.

  Dad arrives shortly after, and Phili and I help get dinner ready. I like cooking, it’s rexing. All the ingredients, just waiting to be turned into something more than the sum of their parts, something that can bring forth all the subtle fvours and textures that each alone cannot showcase to their fullest capabilities. Today, it’s a curry, using pork, carrots, courgettes, onion and garlic, chilli peppers, and a mix of spices and seasonings to enhance the whole dish, served with rice and naan bread.

  Phili leaves the ingredient prep for me while she gets to work on making curry paste from scratch, while I dice and peel everything, trimming the fat from the pork to fsh-fry separately in long, chewy-crispy strips. The onion, garlic, half the diced chilli peppers, and seasonings, then the finely-cubed pork. Fry in medium heat, stirring regurly, before emptying the pan into a bowl and adding a little fresh oil, getting back up to temperature, then sweating the vegetables and adding a handful of fresh ginger.

  Once that’s ready, the meat and onions go back in as Philippa hands me a bowl of paste. “Need three cans of tomatoes, little bro?”

  “Actually, I think five cans. After all, Niko, remember?”

  “Huh, good point.” She darts off to the cupboard where the dry ingredients live, tugging a quintet of tins out, cracking the ring-pulls on each, and then handing them to me. Rinsing a little water around the inside of each tin, I ensure we don’t waste the contents, bringing the pan to a low simmer, plonking the lid on and keeping a watchful eye on it as I begin the rice.

  It takes a little care, but soon enough, I have a pan full of fluffy white rice, steaming and ready to serve, as the curry bubbles gently alongside. Niko wanders in, her face passive and still. My oldest sister, Niko, doesn’t really speak much, or change her expression a lot. There’s nothing wrong with her, though, that’s just the way she is. I smile at her as she sniffs.

  “Curry…?” she asks, slowly, her eyes widening slightly, which is about as close to excitement as she gets. I nod. “Yep, your favourite!”

  She nods perceptibly, her eyes glinting as she reaches for the ptes, helping out with setting the table, her cropped, chin-length bck hair bobbing gently. As soon as everything’s ready, I call,

  “DINNER! Come and get it!”

  Tricia limps in, her dark blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail, followed by mom and dad. I set the pans on the table, removing the lids and serving everyone first, before pting myself a portion.

  Before anyone can even start, Niko holds up her empty pte. “…. More please…” she mumbles, and I smile, shaking my head fondly, refilling her pte. “I have no idea how you do that, sis!” I hand her pte back, her eyes shining a little as she licks her lips. The only thing that breaks the silence of cutlery-on-pte is murmured conversation, while Niko finishes a third portion of curry. Finally, dinner finishes, with Philippa taking over to do the washing-up. Mom keeps compining about how she’s completely lost as to whom the ‘successor’ could be, or what her powers could be. I stand up, and she looks over at me.

  “Hey, Rick, isn’t it time you had a haircut? You’re looking a bit shaggy, it’s honestly a wonder your school hasn’t nit-picked about it!”

  I cringe internally. No, please, don’t make me get a short back and sides!

  She must’ve noticed my expression, because she ughs and waves a hand. “Okay, okay, I won’t force you, but if you get in trouble, don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

  I nod, and escape to my room, tugging on my favourite oversized bck hoodie and jamming my feet into battered trainers, yawning as I make sure I have my keys and phone on me, before making my way downstairs and out through the front door, into the street. I don’t have any reason to stay cooped up in my room all day. Besides, there’s a pretty expansive national park not too far away, and I have a visitor’s pass. Might as well put it to good use, am I right?

  Using one of my keys, I open the garage, dig my bicycle out from under a pile of tarpaulin, and check it over, ensuring that I didn’t have a puncture that I missed st time. There’s nothing wrong with it, although the gear-wheel and chain need a little WD-40, which I take care of, making a mental note to buy another can before this one runs out.

  Locking the garage, I sling my leg over the frame, before kicking off, heading for the national park near my house. Pedalling through the gates, I wave at the guards, who I’ve gotten to know during my regur forays into the trees. I pull in and lock my bike to one of the parking spots for two-wheeled vehicles, shoving my hands into the pockets of my favourite baggy hoodie, heading into the park proper.

  Deep in the trees, the light is green and soft, thick canopies of leaves filtering the te evening sun as I breathe deeply. The air smells of mulch and damp earth, of cold, clear water, and of life itself. Rexing my shoulders, I head for a small clearing, naturally-formed when an ancient tree fell, creating a sort of hollow, sheltered from view on all sides. It’s far enough that no-one will bother me, but not so far that I’d get lost.

  I unzip my hoodie, hanging it on a branch as I crack my neck. The power I shouldn’t have wells up inside me, and I loosen my grip on it a little, allowing it to run free. The burning starts in my fingers, and I clench my teeth as it courses upwards, running up my arms, all the way to my shoulders, like the worst static shock I’ve ever felt, before spreading through my whole body. I can feel the changes taking pce as my whole body alters. My hair grows longer and thicker, running down to my waist, which narrows slightly, my hips fring out as my legs lengthen somewhat, something going missing between them. My skin becomes softer, and my chest…. Looking down, I can see the two distinct swells in my t-shirt. Having three older sisters, I’m well-acquainted with boobs, but these ones… well, they’re mine. And I kinda freakin’ love them. I wish I could stay looking like this…. Once, when no-one was home, I half-transformed in front of the mirror and just stared at myself. I looked right, correct, and complete…

  I push the power even further, sending it into full bze within. My bicep, tricep, and quadricep muscles bulge, my arms getting corded and stronger, thick pte-like scales pushing through my skin as my nails sprout, hardening into cws. I can feel the waistband of my jeans pushed down as my thick, scaled tail sprouts, the arrowhead tip and hard, bony spikes protruding. Icy mist rolls from my lips as I exhale, drifting heavily in the still air. Flexing my cws, I begin running through whatever exercises I can think of. Not having any formal training as a magical girl, I just do whatever, remembering what my sisters told me about their training regimen, or overheard them talking about.

  I draw in a deep breath, deeper than I should be physically able to, before exhaling a solid ray of pale white energy, ice building up at the impact point, before following an arc as I turn my head. Drawing another massive breath, I start coating one scaled hand in a yer of ice, forming longer bdes around my cws, before sshing with them. Practice, practice, practice…