Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

She dropped them all on the bed, then placed a lock of hair behind her ear as she pondered.

With the smartphone present in her bag, she tried to turn it on through fingerprint scan but it only spoke unregistered biometrics.

'To hell with this!' Irritated, she pressed it over and over again until it got locked. She had the urge to throw the phone but it would solve the problem, she opted for the pin in which it let her enter through the homescreen.

Now that she turned it on and saw the date, January 1, 2010, her cute wallpaper, the apps, and array of widgets could be found in it.

'Hmmm? There's so many messages from Tyler and Daisy.'

While Tyler almost had a spam message from their recent dispute and future plans. She wanted to take a break from it, her eyes drawn to Daisy with her daily hot piping tea about to spill, but it turned out to be spam of concern messages, until she spoke nonsense.

But there was hidden code as per their agreement.

[Idiot!]

[Make sure you give the treats to them.]

Nathalie pouted, she couldn't help but respond just as how much Daisy predicted her while she read the messages.

'But—'

[Over my dead body.]

[No]

[My gosh, just buy when you drop here next time, don't take it away from them this new]

[Year]

'I can't help it's delicious.'

[Whatever you say.]

[Am I clear?]

[You better be safe.]

[xoxo]

'Xoxo? What is she saying? Is she serious?'

Nathalie went back and looked at the initials.

'For what? Wait!' She jerked her head back, eyebrows arched from the message. 'Did she know I got into—?!'

Her heart somehow skipped a beat, expecting her best friend would visit her. Other than that, she scrolled further.

From her contacts she checked with the missed calls and unread messages, there was none from Jonathan as of the moment.

'Why there's no reply from him?'

Then her overthinking self began to think about the worst-case scenario, causing her to panic.

But her hands moved swiftly and got to the contacts; there, she pressed a number from Jonathan before bringing it close to her ear.

It was clear, and she took it out when a series of beeps echoed the room. Looking at her phone had found no wi-fi or signal in the first place.

'Is there some sort of service maintenance? How come there's no…' Her voice began to trail off when she contemplated for a little while.

'I feel like I'm having a clusterfuck kind of a headache with this… I need my meds…' Undoubtedly, her hands jammed through the bag to get them. 'But… Where's my water?'

Nathalie plopped on the bed out of frustration, she was all alone and her body was somehow drained of enthusiasm, if she could take half a year rest, then she would.

Somehow, she was still dozing off, and when things finally made sense to her, her eyes widened and got her moving forward.

Nathalie frantically looked around and peeked through the curtain that veiled around her, seeing how the room's motif—cream, white with a touch of blue-violet tints on the walls and ceilings—indeed was the same as her mansion. The room's foundation was no different from hers, except the large dividers, vanities, and grandiose closets displayed.

'Had Theodore changed several stuff here?'

Each one of them had excellent quality wood with gold highlights in them.

Except, these weren't hers, to begin with, like other compartments and odd intricacies found within the chamber.

To the right, where she had a specialized room for her writing and a miniature space for a library, it was but another piece of furniture she wouldn't mind further.

The train of thoughts flowed her mind, and she then strutted towards the windows that got closed from the cascading chiffon curtains and blinds. She sauntered and took a peek at what could be there beyond these boundaries.

It was snowing.

'It's snowing this year? The celebration of the new year went in a blink of an eye? So Jonathan really returned me here? Not hospital?'

More and more things popped into her mind; she glared down with her fingers served through her quivering teeth in subtlety.

The images became clear, the lights from that giant car that delivered tons of load, with its booming siren that rang her ears, and the light that was no different from a whiteout.

She was on her knees, gripping her head, and hoped the pain would stop. After a few minutes, she let go and panted from the nightmare.

'It's scary; I can't—believe it… I—I was sure I could have died from that…' She peered sideways and noticed her strands of hair, tuft by tuft, draped. Nathalie gaped to see the periwinkle hue of it.

All of a sudden, goosebumps started to attack her.

'This hair…'

The windows had thick sheets of ice coupled with large packets of snow that was too much of a blur, but her eyes caught the peculiarity.

All she needed was a mirror.

As though her prayers answered, there found a long mirror stand on the nearby wardrobe that her feet immediately rustled away from the bed area only to stumble at the edge—rolling on the floor.

It was a loud thud from the impact, but it wasn't a big deal for her, akin to a friendly smack, which she wondered how it sounded worse and hurtful. After which, she trudged towards the large mirror.

'That didn't hurt—'

From thereon, Nathalie stood—Frozen. Her trembling fingers reached her alabaster skin, and the rattling indigo eyes had given her the final register to slump on the floor.

'No! No, no, no…' Nathalie shook her head; a ghastly giggle left her lips from all of it. Her voice quaked, causing her to falter over and over again. 'No, this can't be real.'

Her stares went down, and even if it was the same dress she wore on New Year's Eve, the visage that she had was utterly disturbing.

It was serving a crushing blow that would hit Nathalie to the core.

'I have turned into Mystique Blackwell.'