"For the last time, during the day I'm a centaur, at night I'm a vampire, at the full moon I'm a werewolf, when I'm in water I'm a merman, during the hottest day I'm a dragon and at the coldest night I'm a yeti."

I stared at him blankly.

"That makes no sense," I finally concluded.

"I'll admit, it is quite convoluted, but it is what it is," he shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

"So- I mean like- how?" I sputtered out.

"See, I was born a werewolf. Pureblood, both my parents were lycans. Due to a rare genetic mutation, I have rather remarkable regenerative abilities so when I was bitten by a vampire at 17, I became partially vampire. Every night, to be specific, except the full moon, where the lycanthropy trumps it," he said matter-of-factly.

"This wouldn't be the first time a werewolf got bit by a vampire. It doesn't match. You'd die."

"I did."

I stared at him silently. "Then how are you here?!" I yelled out.

"I got better."

I, once again, stared daggers.

"See, I was dead for quite a while but when the full moon came around, my remarkable regenerative abilities kicked in and I lived once more."

"Right," I said and rubbed my brow, trying to understand the mess. "And the merman part?"

"I was just having a nice evening dip under the full moon, and, well, got bitten by a merman."

"But- mermen don't bite people! They don't eat meat, they don't-"

"Yeah, but this one was really high. He thought I was seaweed because my fur was so wet. Lucky I was a werewolf at the time - my remarkable regenerative abilities allowed me to live through the transformation once again."

"The centaur part?"

"Did you know that horses can bite really hard? Well I do. And it's a really dominant mutation for some reason. Spend most of my time as one, just horsing around" he chuckled, much to my annoyance.

"But... there's no way a dragon bit you. I don't care how much you can heal, there's no surviving that!"

"You're right. I, uh... well, it's a bit embarrassing, but..." he looked down at his feet.

"Well?"

"I bit a dragon."

Oh for fucks sake, I thought.

"See, when I ingested his blood, that was enough. Normally this would kill me, but my-"

"If you say 'remarkable regenerative abilities' one more goddamn time I'll put them to the test," I hissed.

"Uh, well..." he nervously said, "I just survived it. With so many mutations in my body, that one only kicks in during extremely hot weather. Rare around these parts, unlike that bloody yeti part."

"And that happened when..." I started cautiously, dreading the answer that I already expected.

"Funny thing, this. I was skiing with my partner and before you know it, I skied into a nearby treeline and a yeti just - poof, runs out and bites straight through my ribcage."

"He crushed your ribcage? And you survived?" I asked. He opened his mouth but said no words, only looking at me expectantly.

I sighed very loudly and put my hand over my face. "Go on," I said.

"See, my remarkable regenerative abilities..."

Club Urban Night. Although society was starting to accept non-humans after their existence was finally revealed to the public, few places went out of their way to welcome and cater to them. But while many feared the unknown, there would always be those who were enticed by that which was mysterious and exotic. If I had to pick a side, I’d be a part of the former, and yet here I was, letting my more outgoing friend drag me to a club for non-humans.

…Well, I can’t say I was completely against the idea. The fantasy of spending the night with a charming vampire or a ferocious yet passionate werewolf made me gulp just as hard as any healthy young woman. But I still had my doubts.

“Omagawd, Sadie. I think I went to middle school with that merman. Hold my drink, I’m going to pop over to say hi.”

It’s been ten minutes since my friend—the only person I knew here—said that and she’s still laughing it up with some strangers by the pool. I’ve been sitting on a barstool waffling over whether I should awkwardly force my way into their conversation or awkwardly wait for her to return. Just as I was maybe possibly going to make a decision, I noticed someone trotting up to me.

“Come here often?” asked a centaur. The tone he used implied that he knew I didn’t.

I warily shook my head and in response he chuckled and smoothly took the seat beside me. Obviously, he didn’t sit in it but with his large equine body standing there, no one else was going to be using that bar stool.

“Sorry, you just looked a bit lost, so I figured I’d come over and chat you up.”

Implying he’s doing me a favor by hitting on me… This guy is a player.

I took a closer look at the centaur and had mixed feelings. He had a sort of rugged Nordic charm with his tousled blonde hair and muscular upper body. That alone would normally be enough of a reason to let him “chat me up,” but my issue was with the lower half. I came here looking for something exotic, but a horse was maybe a bit too wild.

We spoke back and forth for a while, and I was giving him some clear signs of rejection. I knew he noticed but this conversation just wasn’t ending. I didn’t want to just shoot him down, since I was genuinely grateful that he came over to talk to me, but maybe it was time to rip the band aid off.

“Look it’s been nice talking to you but…”

“It’s the horse body, isn’t it?”

“Whaa…? No, Bjorn, I just feel like we’re not really connecting, you know?”

…So much for ripping the band aid off. Ugh, why am I like this?

The centaur gave me a suspicious look. “Then you’d feel the same way if I turned into a vampire?”

“You can do that?” I asked a little too eagerly.

“When it’s night I turn into a vampire. Midnight just passed but I was holding back the transformation because I didn’t want to spook you. Anyways, here goes…”

A curtain of darkness suddenly enveloped Bjorn. It vanished as quickly as it came, shattering like glass. I gathered my courage to look at the freshly vampirified Bjorn… and promptly heaved a massive sigh.

“Are you screwing with me?”

“No? What are you talking about?”

It sounded like Bjorn didn’t understand what I meant but how could he not? The only thing that had changed was the length of his canines and the cape that had materialized on his back. As for his lower half, well…

“You’re still a centaur.”

“I’m a vampire now. When a human transforms into a vamp, you don’t call them ‘human vampires’ now do you?”

“Ok that was interesting and all, but I think we’re done here.”

I made to stand but the “vampire” frantically blocked me with his arm. “Wait, wait, wait. That one doesn’t do it, huh? No problem. Bartender! Get the picture!”

The bartender—some sort of squid man—rolled his large googly eyes and held up an incredibly realistic painting of the moon. Immediately, Bjorn groaned and grew fur all over his body. Even his horse half transformed… into a wolf’s lower body.

“How about this?” he growled, spreading his paws to show off his furry yet still clearly muscular chest. I shook my head reflexively and he sighed.

“Ok, wait right there.”

The next thing I knew I was watching a werecentaur cannonball into a pool. I chuckled a little when my friend and her entourage were bowled over by the resulting wave, but when Bjorn came back up, I couldn’t laugh anymore.

“What do you think?”

I teetered over to the pool to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. Sea horse. Not a kelpie or a horse with fins, but an actual honest-to-god sea horse. Of course, that was just his lower half. Bjorn’s upper body had webbed hands and patches of scales but was otherwise human.

But more than his appearance, I was struck by the fact that he had just caused a huge scene, but his eyes were fixed on me. He was waiting anxiously for my opinion as if it was the only thing that mattered. I pressed my fingers together as I fought back a blush.

“I think this can work.”

“Really?”

“Yea, I… Ah!”

Bjorn lunged forward and pulled me into the water. I hugged him to keep my head above water, but I didn’t break away once I’d got my bearings. Interestingly, the water didn’t soak into my clothes. That must have been Bjorn using some kind of merman power.

“That’s great. I can turn into a dragon and a yeti as well, but those are more difficult.”

“Hmm? Dragon? I wouldn’t mind a dragon.”

“…We’ll have to wait until summer.”

The next day, I found myself sitting in a Starbucks with my friend who’d abandoned me. We were both a little hungover, but it was our conversation that was giving me a headache.

“So, you slept with a seahorse.”

“He’s a dragon… sometimes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t know. He tried so many things that I got worn down.”

“Oldest trick in the book. That guy’s a real player.”

“Dammit, I know.”

“—He’s not pregnant, right? You know… being a seahorse and all.”

For the first time in my life, I did a genuine spit take.

One extraordinarily embarrassing phone call later—during which I confirmed that I was not the father—I decided to stick to normal bars for the time being.

I am what is referred to as a cyclical man. It is an ancient magic that can only be cast on a group of willing people. Every group has a different composition and a different set of rules.

I knew a cyclical man that was just two people. By day one of them existed and by night the other. But only living half a life they each lived for twice as long.

I knew a team of adventures that became a cyclical man. A thief, a mage, a barbarian, a bard, and a great scholar. They would rotate as certain skills were needed. They were an unstoppable team of one.

The neat thing is that the memories are shared and you only age by as much time as you have actually lived. It seems great but you are stuck living a half life. You can’t settle down. You can’t have a normal job. And it is impossible to break the spell.

I joined with a unique group of adventurers. We are a group of ‘monsters’ and we cycle based on our individual strengths. A centaur that can travel fast by day. A vampire that can never see the sun light. A werewolf by the full moon so he is always at his full strength. A merman when we hit the water. A heat loving dragon on the hottest of days and a yeti when it is too cold for anyone else. We are always at our strongest.

We are six individuals that make up one man, and this is a story of our adventures.

"For the last time, at day I'm a centaur, at night I'm a vampire, at the full moon I'm a werewolf, when I'm in water I'm a merman, during the hottest day I'm a dragon and at the coldest night I'm a yeti."

I know, my giddy questioning must be infuriating for Peter to hear, but I've never met someone who's worked at Disneyland before. I had a friend of a friend who worked maintenance in Mainstreet, and I met someone who was a coordinator for some swanky Disney vacation packaging thing, but not one who actually played a roll as an entertainer inside the parks.

"So... you're saying that your body knows what the coldest day of the year and the hottest day of the year will be?"

""Er, yes, now that you mention it. That does seem strange." He scratched at his chin.

I pressed him. "That means you could be a weatherman with magical 100% accuracy!"

His face screwed up. "At least, for those two days."

"For the whole SEASON!" I shouted, excited. "Once you go dragon, we'll know when to harvest, when to plant, when to stop planting..." My mind spun with the implications.

"Huh. A magical weatherman. I guess I never thought of it that way. Thanks, person that knows basic things about how the world works!"

"For the last time, in the day I'm a centaur, at night I'm a vampire, at the full moon I'm a werewolf, when I'm in the water I'm a merman, during the hottest day I'm a dragon and in the coldest night, I'm a yeti. That good enough for you?" he rambled, before kicking back (or whatever is the horse equivalent of it) on the floor.

I nodded, before picking out a random vial. The cauldron before me simmered with magical fumes as vapors of different colors flew from its shadowy surface. Beneath the iron container, a blood-red flame worked tirelessly to heat the liquid.

"So how did this happen, anyway?" I asked, one eye guarded on the spell contained within the cauldron as I turned to my roommate. I stifled a growl, watching as his hooves sprawled across my pristine spell-books. The nerve!

He groaned annoyingly. "Accident. Magical Chemistry."

I nodded, still trying not to see red as I added a bit of gorgon's blood extracted from the right side. Turns out Percy Jackson, while being an interesting read, was not so accurate when it came to monstrous anatomy. Beginners' mistake, I guess.

"Almost done," I called sweetly, my hands still clenched tight on the ladle as he snored gently. I swear, people never appreciate you. Be it when you're making poison or soup, they'll always fall asleep just as you're done. How unappreciative.

I rolled my eyes.

"Soup's ready!"

Two minutes later, he was rolling around on the floor, clutching at his throat as he wolfed (sorry, horsed) down the remains of a meal meant for two. How predictable. I smiled as he foamed at the mouth.

"Sorry sweetheart. But the neighbors were asking questions, and I really don't feel like having another ghost in the house. One will be enough as it is."

He didn't reply. Oh well. I kicked back and relaxed as the self-cleaning spells did their job once more...

"For the last time, during the day I'm a centaur, at night I'm a vampire, at the full moon I'm a werewolf, when I'm in water I'm a merman, during the hottest day I'm a dragon and at the coldest night I'm a yeti."

"Mmmhmm." You didn't ask for his life story. Why is he telling you this?

He looks at you in mild disbelief and squeezes back out of his booth. You hope to God he's house trained. "See? I'm a Centaur right now. I just spent the entire night as a vampire and frankly I'm exhausted." He groans and slides back into the booth. "I didn't ask for this. Nobody would ask for this"

"I certainly didn't." You mutter under your breath. "Listen, sugar. I know you're going through a lot, but this isn't the time, here isn't the place and I'm certainly not the person. I only need on piece of information from you, and only one," You hold up the half empty pot of coffee. It's hot and strong and you almost know the answer anyways. "Do you want more coffee.

The centaur/vampire/werewolf/merman/ dragon/yeti held out his coffee cup. You fill it up and roll your eyes.

He thanks you and takes a deep sip. You wipe the table off and nod.

"I'll be right out with your eggs and bacon. Please try to remember this is a Dennys, not a therapist." You warn as you check on the other patrons. centaur/vampire/werewolf/merman/ dragon/yeti better tip 20% because you do not get paid enough for this.

My girlfriend couldn't understand WHY I seemed to be all over the place when it came to who, or what, I was. Truth be told, some days I didn't get it either. My father and mother seemed pretty average. Him being a Satyr via my gramps and half-witch on my grandma's side might have something to do with it. Mom? Oh, she's a full-blown vampire from the old country. No issue there. She even loves to do the old 'BLEH! BLEH BLEHHH!' joke that still tickles me to this day, honestly! Even I admit that my parents are an absolute blast when family and friends gather during the holidays. Life of the party when they've had a few bottles of wine in them. Heh heh! Still, after all the years my parents have been together even a blind man could see the desires they exude for each other & in which they would always continually relish...whiiiiiich is one of the reasons I moved out shortly after my older brother and sister did the same. Can you imagine what sounds like a full-blown wrestling match coupled with the lewdest porno you've ever heard turned up to full volume coming from the folks who brought you into this world? I can't tell you how many times I caught my dad coming out of their bedroom, sweating like he's run non-stop from the North-end to the distant South-shores, naked as the day he was born, dripping and SMELLING like ALL KINDS of pheromones. 'Mr. Natural' he calls himself, darn the chiseled abs on that old goat! More than once have I also seen my mother naked, too zonked out of her mind to bother covering up after 'big daddy' had another one of his 'best-nights-ever' with his wife/my mom. Once, she caught me looking (not my fault, I swear!) and smiled at me, gave me a wink, blew me a kiss & then continued to float toward the bathroom to 'freshen up.' She'd then hover to the kitchen to make him a roast beef sandwich (cooked rare, still bleeding, duh!) while nude, nude, nude, both her gravity defying 'girls' and 'full moon' clearly visible for anyone with a beating-pulse to see.

Wow.

I, uh...I could SEE why he married her!

Now imagine those sounds and images in your head for nineteen turns of the warm season?!?

Yeah. Ew.

That's around the time when I decided to become the BEST Paramedic-Healer I could be. To help the local residents with potions, medicine and medical attention? Yes, sure enough...but mainly because I was so very good at biology, math and all the science-magics. The fact that I'd be PAID HANDSOMELY for my efforts and easily be able to afford my own place wasn't exactly a major roadblock, either! True, my place isn't as picturesque as the castle I grew up in, but it's mine. The humans know how to build a good, sturdy apartment building! NONE of my physical forms even so much as warp the floorboards when I'm at my heaviest...and I live on the 5th floor, just below the penthouses! Thank goodness for those wide double doors at the entrance and the balcony! None of that seemed to matter to my current love interest, however. We're arguing for the umpteenth time about my hectic work schedule and me having to explain to her, yet again, why I can't come to one of her vapid parties with all her elf and worgen friends where the main rule for these giggling female revelers seemed to be 'drink until you vomit or pass out!'

Fucking elf lightweights! If you can't handle your ale & lager, don't DRINK so much! No wonder they're all so lanky and pale! Did no one ever tell them about eating a full meal BEFORE binge drinking!? Do you know how embarrassing it was having to show my dragon form to everyone at work? I had to FLY two of her intoxicated idiot friends to the ER one summer weekend because they enjoyed more mimosas than the piles of breakfast foods being offered during the buffet at our favorite local resort by the sea. Scared the absolute shit out of my direct supervisor who had to pull duty that weekend! Then I stood in the thankfully near empty parking lot, fighting the heat and humidity to change to my smaller centaur form so that I could rinse off inside the familiar locker room showers because one of the inconsiderate she-goons PUKED ON ME mid-flight! It was my bad luck that it had to be the big wolf girl who is always putting me down for not staying in the same form 24/7, the narcissist skank!

"For the last time, at day I'm a centaur, at night I'm a vampire, at the full moon I'm a werewolf, when I'm in water I'm a merman, during the hottest day I'm a dragon and at the coldest night I'm a yeti." What was so difficult for these drunken blockheads to understand about that!?

Not five seconds after my usual rant-"BLLUUUUUUUURGH!!"-alllllll overrrrr my left wiiiiiiing!

I sat on a smooth, wooden bench as the calming spray washed over me, letting my thoughts peacefully drift along as the hot, soothing water rinsed the orange-colored muck with that horrid bile aroma off of my person and down the drain. Seeing my lower half, I actually enjoyed how the brightly colored scales glistened in the sunlight from the small window high overhead even amidst so much steam. For a brief moment I was a little selfish, wondering if I could catch a much-desired nap on the worn leather couch a few feet nearby, just past the bathroom entrance. That hope was dashed when I heard the door swing open with a 'wooosh, BLAMM!' and close with a 'squeeeeeeeee, ka-lunk.' Within a minute I saw my supervisor step into the shower room with me wide eyed and aghast, her tall, curvy orc form a beautiful shimmering green vision before my eyes. I sat rigid and unmoving for a full minute before clearing my throat, her floral shampoo scent assaulting my brain and...other...parts...of my surprised and confused anatomy.

"Oh. Hey. Figured you'd be in here after I saw the spit-up all over your back from the wolf chick. Not gonna lie, I've been there before. Friends who drink too much can be a real pain inna ass, y'know?" Squirting more soap in her hands, she began to lather up her ample breasts and I watched enraptured as the pulsing water hit her surprisingly pretty face. It happily flowed through her short, dark, brunette hair, down her muscular shoulders to her flat stomach, around her generous hips and finally raced vertically toward her manicured feet, those long, shapely legs made so by years of running with both light and heavy patients embraced by her solid arms when in need of medical aid.

Waaait a second...did...did she say she figured I'd be in here??

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