Eric Lanton was walking down the street, with his cellphone up to his ear.
"Don't worry, honey. I'll be home soon." He paused, listening. "I'll be careful. Believe me. The last thing I want to do is to swap bodies with ..." Suddenly, some woman came around the corner really fast and collided with him.
Then there was a flash of light.
"You may now kiss the bride," a man said.
Eric watched as a man in a tuxedo leaned in towards him, puckering his lips. Startled by his change in location and the fact that this guy was trying to kiss him, he took a step back and then stumbled to the floor.
He looked to his right and saw a whole congregation of people. He heard a lot of them gasping and a few even said "Is she alright?"
She? Eric thought. What are they talking about? He looked down at himself and suddenly understood. He was wearing a wedding gown. The one thing he promised his wife would never happen to him ... did. He had swapped bodies, just like a number of other people in town. And now he was in the body of a bride who had just gone through her wedding vows.
Scarlet kept looking at the large muscular guy who was now apparently the warden. For the first time since she heard about all of this happening (and also when it happened to herself), she was glad that this body-swapping phenomenon was still in effect. If the warden hadn't taken over that guy when he did, she might not be alive right now. But it was still strange to believe that this large and mean-looking man was a normal, level-headed and sane person.
He was guiding her through the prison, trying to get her out as safely as possible. Since he was the warden, it was an easy enough task. He knew the layout of the prison better than anyone. They just needed to get through a few more hallways and then they'd be out.
Debra had to sit down. A pregnant woman like herself shouldn't have been out and about. And certainly not in this situation. She looked down at the orange jumpsuit she was wearing. It fit perfectly, like it was made for her. But she already knew full well that it wasn't. She still hadn't seen her reflection, but from what was happening all over the prison, she figured that she was now in the body of a man.
After a few minutes, the rioting seemed to quiet down to a murmur. She figured most of the prisoners either escaped or got swapped like herself and were just calming down. She worried about her husband. They had decided to sleep in that day. They knew they had to be out of the hotel room by one o'clock, so they knew that they had some time to get some extra sleep. Now she wished they would have had different plans. Maybe then this wouldn't have happened to her.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Someone was coming this way.
Since she found that she couldn't get up, at least not by herself, she had no choice but to sit on the floor. But maybe the person was someone who had swapped. Maybe she had nothing to fear.
As the footsteps got closer, she turned and saw that it was actually two people. And they were both in orange jumpsuits. One was a large, mean-looking guy that looked like he could snap a guy in half with ease. The other guy was a lot thinner and had a shaved head, goatee, and tattoos all over his body. He looked like a criminal. They both did. But were they inside?
"Please, help me," Debra said.
The two men turned their attention towards her, but seemed hesitant.
"I'm not who you think I am. My name is Debra. And ... and I'm pregnant. I need help."
The tattooed guy looked over at the big guy and asked "Do you think he's telling the truth?"
"I know him," the big guy said. "That's Peter Wagner. People call him The Nazi."
"Why?"
"He's a racial extremist. He killed five men just because of their ethnic background. Four of them were black, the other was Asian."
"Shouldn't he have been in solitary confinement?" the tattooed guy asked.
"He was. All the prisoners down there must have been released too."
"Please," Debra said, breaking their conversation, which (since they were down the hall a ways) she only heard parts of.
"Wagner wouldn't act like this," the big one said. "I think he's telling the truth."
"I hope you're right," the tattooed one said.
They walked closer and then the tattooed one helped her up. "My name is Scarlet," he told her. "I'm a woman."
"And I'm the warden. George Stevenson. Don't worry. You'll be safe with us."
They began walking down the hall, but then the one named Scarlet suddenly turned towards Debra. "What's your race?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Just answer the question," the warden said, probably seeing where Scarlet was going with it.
"I'm black. Why?"
