I trudged down the familiar streets, my shoulders slumped from another draining day at the office. The setting sun cast long shadows across the pavement, and the cool evening breeze offered little relief from my exhaustion.

A sharp pain shot through my temples. The world before me flickered—concrete and shopfronts vanished. In their place stretched a vast crimson landscape, barren and cracked, beneath a blood-red sky. Twisted black spires pierced the horizon, their surfaces gleaming like polished obsidian.

I blinked hard. The hellish vision disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving me standing frozen on the sidewalk.

"What the hell?" I pressed my palm against my forehead. A few passersby gave me odd looks, but I barely noticed them.

My watch showed 6:45 PM—fourteen hours since I'd started my workday. The numbers blurred slightly as I stared at them. That had to be it—just my brain playing tricks after too many hours staring at spreadsheets.

"Need to get more sleep," I muttered, shaking my head and resuming my walk home. The familiar storefronts and street signs helped ground me back in reality. Still, something about that vision lingered in my mind, too vivid to be a mere hallucination. The spires had seemed so real, almost like a memory rather than imagination.

I quickened my pace. The sooner I got home and into bed, the better. The street lights began flickering on as dusk settled over the city, and I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, pushing the strange incident to the back of my mind.

I reached my apartment building, fumbling for the keys in my pocket. My hand wrapped around the cold metal of the door handle—

The world lurched.

Marble halls stretched before me, lit by floating orbs of crimson fire. The air thick with perfume and incense. Half-naked figures writhed against each other on plush divans, their skin ranging from human tones to deep crimsons and midnight blues. Wings—leather and feathered—spread across backs. Horns curved from temples. A woman with alabaster skin and obsidian eyes beckoned to me from across the hall, her tail curling invitingly...

I jerked back from the door, my heart pounding. The vision vanished, leaving me staring at the familiar scratched paint of my apartment building's entrance.

"Christ." I leaned against the wall, running trembling fingers through my hair. "I'm losing it."

The handle gleamed innocently in the streetlight. I forced myself to grab it again, but nothing happened this time. Just cool metal against my palm.

Inside the building's lobby, I jabbed the elevator button harder than necessary. These visions—they were getting worse. The first one had been strange enough, but this? A demonic orgy palace?

"Should probably see Dr. Harrison," I muttered as the elevator carried me up. My regular physician had an opening next week, last I checked. If these hallucinations kept up, I'd need more than just a good night's sleep.

The elevator dinged at my floor. I hurried down the hallway, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead. Part of me worried touching anything else might trigger another vision. But that was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

My hands shook slightly as I unlocked my apartment door. I needed food, sleep, and maybe to lay off the caffeine for a while. If I was still seeing things by Monday, I'd make that doctor's appointment.

Stolen story; please report.

I dragged myself into my bedroom, not even bothering to change out of my work clothes. The mattress welcomed me like an old friend as I face-planted into the pillow.

"Never again," I groaned into the fabric. "No more overtime. Not worth it."

Sleep claimed me before I could finish the thought.

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the silk sheets sliding against my skin. My cheap cotton ones had never felt like this. I blinked, trying to clear my vision—and froze.

This wasn't my room.

Purple and black tapestries adorned stone walls. Ornate furniture carved with demonic symbols filled the massive chamber. The bed I lay in could have fit six people comfortably, its posts rising toward a vaulted ceiling lost in shadow.

"What the hell?" My voice came out higher, softer. Wrong.

I sat up, the quilted coverlet falling away. Something tickled my back—hair, impossibly long and silver-white, cascading past my shoulders. As I moved, two significant weights on my chest shifted.

My hands flew to my chest, encountering soft flesh where there should have been nothing. I looked down at my body, at curves that definitely hadn't been there when I'd fallen asleep.

"No, no, no..."

I scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over my new center of gravity. A full-length mirror stood in the corner, its frame twisted into the shapes of writhing bodies. I rushed to it, then stopped dead.

The reflection showed a stunning woman with crimson eyes and porcelain skin. My—her—body was a perfect hourglass, barely contained by a sheer nightgown. Delicate features stared back at me in horror as I raised a trembling hand to my face.

I stared at my reflection, unable to process the impossible changes. My fingers traced the unfamiliar contours of my face, watching the beautiful woman in the mirror mimic my movements.

The creak of a door broke my trance. A small figure entered, humming a cheerful tune. My jaw dropped—she couldn't have been more than three feet tall, with reddish skin, tiny horns, and a pointed tail that poked out from under a frilly maid uniform.

The imp froze mid-step, her eyes growing wide as saucers. The feather duster she carried clattered to the floor.

"P-Princess Lily! You're awake!" She dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ground. "After five hundred years—this is—I must—" Without finishing any of her thoughts, she scrambled to her feet and bolted from the room, leaving the door wide open.

Princess? Five hundred years?

I sank onto the edge of the massive bed, my head spinning. The imp's reaction confirmed my growing suspicion that I wasn't just in the wrong body—I was somewhere very, very far from home.

My eyes darted to the open door. I could make a run for it, try to find my way out of... wherever this was. But the imp's appearance suggested I wasn't in any normal place. Who knew what other creatures lurked in the halls?

I glanced down at the sheer nightgown that left little to the imagination. Running around half-naked in an unfamiliar female body through what was starting to seem like some kind of demonic palace didn't seem like the smartest move.

Better to stay put and try to figure out what was going on. At least until I could find some proper clothes.

The door burst open again. A stunning woman with midnight-black hair and crimson eyes rushed toward me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. Her touch radiated warmth, yet something about her presence felt otherworldly.

"My darling Lily, you're finally awake!" Her fingers brushed through my white hair. "Your father will be here any moment."

I pulled back, studying her beautiful face. Despite her demonic features—the elegant horns and ethereal glow—there was genuine love in her expression. "Who... who are you?"

Her smile faltered. Pain flashed across her features as she cupped my face in her hands. "You don't remember me? Your own mother?"

Mother? My heart raced. Better to play along than risk revealing I was an impostor.

"I—I'm sorry. Everything's foggy. I can't remember anything."

She drew in a sharp breath, her eyes narrowing. "Michael," she hissed under her breath. "That bastard." But her expression softened as she pulled me close again. "Don't worry, my sweet girl. Your memories will return in time."

The door opened once more. A tall, imposing figure entered—a man with golden hair and piercing blue eyes. Despite his angelic appearance, power rolled off him in waves that made the air thick and heavy.

I stood frozen as the golden-haired man rushed forward to join the embrace.

"My precious daughter." His voice cracked with emotion. "We feared you might never wake."

When I mentioned my "memory loss," his face fell for a moment before he squeezed my hand. "No matter. You're back with us now."