Harold, the cop-turned-Goth-girl, stumbled down the street, not knowing where he was going or why. He already forgot about the parking ticket he was writing when Melissa asked for his help, and now he was beginning to not care about being a cop at all.
Every person he passed gave him a dirty look and it probably had something to do with the way he looked. He still couldn't figure out how this could happen to him. Or anyone, for that matter.
Harold couldn't blame anyone for having that kind of reaction to him. And more than anything, he just wanted to find a hole somewhere and crawl inside.
He pushed his way around the various people along the street until he came to the alleyway where Melissa had come from. And that was where he accidentally bumped into a Goth girl and two Goth boys.
"Hera, there you are," the girl said. She was dressed very similarly to the one that changed him. And very similarly to how he was now dressed too. Wait a minute. Did she just call him "Hera"?
Harold looked at each of them, as a growing familiarity grew within him. He knew these people. Right? They were ... his friends? But he didn't know them. He didn't even know their names.
"Hera, what the fuck is wrong with you? Snap out of it," the boy in the leather skirt said.
There was that name again. Harold thought about it. Hera, Hera ... yeah. That did sound familiar, even right. It was strange. He knew that his name was Harold. But he also knew that his name was Hera. What was happening to him?
