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June 2020


A Coming Out of Sorts…


This is really difficult for me, but it’s been a long time coming. Even posting this in the tg community, where I know I will find support, I worry about backlash, but I really need to get this off my chest. Though, I’ve confided this information to a few people to the larger tg community via personal message or email, I have kept it hidden from the community at large. So, here goes…

You know when I first got involved with TG community, I was convinced my interest in tg was just that an interest and nothing more than a fetish. Even back then I was uncomfortable actually calling it a fetish, my interest never really seemed all that fetishy to be honest, but I really had no better term for it. Certainly, there is a sexual element to my stories, but it didn’t define them.

The more and more I delve into my own past and really explore different themes with my writing, the more and more I come to the conclusion I may actually be trans.

I’d had doubts for a while, but I think they finally came to a head after one particular event. It happened when I felt a surge of jealousy when being helped by a pretty girl at a local eatery. She wasn’t attractive enough to grace the pages of a magazine or anything, but she’d had a certain sort of girl-next-door charm to which I’d always been drawn. I remained polite to her, as these strange new feelings seethed under my calm facade. Her service was exemplary and I left a perhaps too generous of a tip, largely because I felt guilt for the uncharitable thoughts I’d sent her way. As I was leaving I found myself uttering a single sentence that shook me to my core.

“You don’t know how lucky you are.”

The girl seemed confused and I didn’t really stick around to explain myself. I never returned, convinced, however irrationally, that she must have figured out what I’d meant.

I had an interest in tg in general at least since grade school, but I had neither a name for it nor a notion that there were others who might share said interest. I remember checking out this book in sixth grade from the school library and sneaking it home so that I could read it. It was the only book in the series that I ever touched and truth be told I was rather disappointed that it didn’t explore the switch more in depth. I found the notion of becoming a girl very interesting and… I was afraid that if my mother discovered I was reading it, she would use it as ammunition against me (I didn’t exactly grow up in a very happy home).

I recall dreaming that I was a girl in my early years, though most of these memories are pretty vague, I do recall having them. To this day, I only recall one of them in much detail, and even then I only remember that it involved me wearing a dress and wig to church.

The problem is, I don’t really feel the level of dysphoria I’ve heard described by most trans-folk. Sure, I’d prefer to have been born female, but I don’t I hate my male body per se, I just feel like I should be female. There seems to be a disconnect from what my body is and what it feels like it should be, but it’s not a strong overpowering feeling. It’s just there.

I’ve written a number of stories with actual trans characters, (not just characters transformed into a female, but ones who felt they should have been one to begin with) and though I haven’t admitted it until now, these trans characters have really been allegorical for my own struggle to define my gender identity.

I have been speaking to a therapist on these matters, but at the moment I don’t feel it’s really helped me define where exactly I stand as far as being trans. Truth be told, if it came down to it I’m not really sure I’d want to transition, even if I were given the choice. I live in a very conservative area and I fear the effects such a thing would have on both my career and personal life. That being said, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I’m not going to be a woman in the real world, I can at least present as one online.

So as of this moment, I am no longer calling myself Daniel A. Wolfe, from this moment forward, I’d prefer you call me Daniela A. Wolfe and use female pronouns. My web address, danielawolfe.com actually works pretty well with the new shift, though I do need to do a little feminine flair in light of this change. Certainly my site logo and description need a little updating, but I think I may actually throw in a splash of pink to the site design to celebrate.

I don’t know where this journey will take me, but I hope I’m on the right path.

As always have a delightfully demented night,

Daniela A. Wolfe

The Fall of Kruhl | Ch 13 Pt 1



Official Report
3412 Abby Ln
Tondzaosha, Idaho

A long soft sigh escaped Amelia’s lips. Birdsong wafted in from out of the darkness and she jerked upright, eyes wide and hands sliding over her belly. She panted, scanning the tiny room, before swallowing and pursing her lips.

Where was she?

Light spilled in from a small window adjacent to the bed atop which she rested and she peered through it. A large elm’s branches spread out into the sky, blocking her view of most of the street beyond.

“Oh thank god,” a voice said from the doorway and Amelia’s head jerked sideways to face the newcomer.

Amy blinked, watching the blond girl, unable to look away. “Ashley, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Well,” Ashley grinned leaning against the door frame one hand on her hip. “It’s nice to see you too.”

The agent released a lengthy breath and let out a low throaty chuckle with a slow shake of her head. “I mean, it is a relief to see a familiar face, I just didn’t expect you to be here.”

“How did I—” Amy stopped looking around the room.

“Get here?” Ashley finished folding her arms across her chest. “It’s a long story, but the short answer is I found you and brought you here.”

Amelia arched an eyebrow. “And the long answer?”

The younger woman pursed her lips, stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

“Probably best if no one else heard this,” she winced and ran a hand through her shock of flaxen hair. She moved across the room, sat beside Amelia on the bed, placing a hand on the agent’s knee. Then with a long release of air she spoke. “I guess I should start by telling you that Sapphira’s in the hospital.”

That caught Amy’s attention, she regarded the other woman, eyes going wide. “What?”

“She collapsed a several days ago, after taking a call from an Idaho area code. And before you ask, I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Nobody does. I wish I had better news.”

Amelia pressed her lips together and bowed her head. A tear ran down her cheek, but she wiped it away before peering back up at her companion.

“Probably, the work of one of our friends,” the agent said with a slight quiver in her voice. “I have reason to suspect there’s a mole inside AEGIS, they were probably afraid Sapphira would come to my rescue when I disappeared.”

Or else raise hell if I turned up dead. Amelia added, but didn’t trust herself to voice that notion.

Her heart ached at the image of Sapphira sitting inert in a hospital bed somewhere. Throughout this entire ordeal she hadn’t once considered trying to contact her partner. Why was that? She swallowed reflecting back to Ashtar’s warning that she was being influenced and tasted bile in her throat. Maybe, Leoffa had influenced her in more ways than one.

“Shit,” Ashley cursed. “I was afraid it was something like that.”

“Tell me the rest,” Amelia said biting the inside of her cheek.

Ashley did, apprising her of her travels to Tondzaosha, witnessing the police taking her into custody and everything from there up to finding Brian van den Broeke trapped within his strange luminescent prison. She would have continued, but caught a gleam in Amelia’s eyes and paused, regarding her friend, eyebrows furrowed.

Amelia didn’t speak, instead thinking back to when she’d reached into Leoffa’s mind. There had been a brief flash and images very like those described by Ashley. There must be some connection.

“What happened after that?” Amelia asked, stroking her chin, her lips pressed in a thoughtful expression.

“Well, I tried for a good thirty minutes to reach him, and then… well, things got even stranger…

“Okay, that’s not working.”

Ashley threw a fist out in frustration. It impacted the space above Brian van den Broeke and a dull metallic thud sounded.

“Perhaps, you should hit it again, miss. I’m sure it will work better the fourth time.” Nabu’s voice intoned in her ear.

Ashley growled under her breath, but didn’t dignify him with a reply. Instead she turned away and clenched her eyes releasing a steady breath. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas, Nabu, do you?”

“No, miss, this is quite beyond my area of expertise.”

“I hate to say this, but if there’s nothing I can do here, it may be time to—”

“Miss, as loath as I am to interrupt, I am detecting a spike in energy readings.” Nabu spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps you may wish to give it another look.”

Ashley spun around as a high-pitched screech rang through the air. The lights above Brian‘s inert form pulsated and intensified and he sat bolt upright…

“Andy!” He screamed the name, repeating it over and over, hands clutching the side of his head.

The lights swirled faster and faster, growing so bright that Ashley winced and brought a hand up to shield her eyes. A whoosh of air blew into her and she braced herself as a surge of energy cascaded out in every direction. The illumination grew so intense that she closed her eyes and averted her gaze.

Once her vision cleared, she lowered her hands and moved toward Brian. He watched her approach with wide eyes.

“Impostor, betrayal… sword. Blood gushing.” He mumbled peering past Ashley’s armored form almost as if she were not even there.

He hugged his knees and rocked back and forth, several long sobs escaping his lips. “She will die.”

“Who?” She demanded, her voice coming out as a low guttural growl through the suit’s voice changer.

He didn’t answer, instead he threw his head back and a raw, wheezing manic laugh sounded from his mouth. “The one who was king… her blood everywhere,” he mumbled. “My brother who’s now my sister. Times ticking… ticking… out through the window…”


Ashley didn’t hesitate. She lurched forward, armored form shooting through the bedroom window, glass shattering and cascading across the front lawn in her wake. Heart hammering in her chest, her destination already in mind, she shot into the open sky above. She couldn’t say why, but she was certain that he’d been speaking of Amelia. It sounded like the ravings of a madman, but somehow she understood that the danger was real.

“You just left Brian there?” Amelia cut in her disbelief reflected in her emerald eyes.

“I freaked out…” Ashley grimaced one hand kneading the back of her neck. “I didn’t stop to reflect, I just acted.”

“If it makes you feel better, I came back for him after. He was still there, at least in the physical sense, but mentally… Well, let’s just say he’s a few bricks short of a load.”

Amelia’s lips trembled and a sob escaped her lips. “All because that woman was trying to get to me.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes and regarded her blond friend who was now shedding a few tears of her own.  When the agent spoke her voice trembled. “So? I guess you found me.”

Ashley nodded, swallowing hard. “Uh, yeah. I figured since the police had you, you’d probably be at the station, and sure enough that’s where you and the girl were, unconscious in a pool of blood. Shit, I thought you were dead. After I went back for your brother, I brought everyone here.”

“Kruhl?” Amy asked, but her friend just blinked. The agent sighed, closed her nice and massaged her temple. “The short blond woman.”

“Oh! She’s fine, I think. She hasn’t woken up yet. There was blood all over her when I happened upon you guys, but I couldn’t find any cuts or scrapes, I guess none of it was hers.”

“And Brian?” Amelia asked staring back at her swallowing hard.

“Asleep, last I checked.” Ashley brushed the hair away from her face. “And there’s something else…”

Amy gaze intensified her eyes boring holes into the other woman. “Um, I didn’t know any safe places… and who to trust. I didn’t even know what was wrong with you so I, uh…” she trailed off wincing under the scrutiny of her friend’s gaze.

“You what?” Amy asked a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

“I worried you would need medical attention and since the files Malcolm gave me said your mother was a nurse…”

“Oh, god,” Amelia sighed glancing around. “Don’t tell me this is her place.”

“No! Actually,” Ashley jerked her head from side to side. “But she’s here. She said this place belonged to a friend.”

Amy sighed and gritted her teeth. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, her mother gets thrown into the mix.

Oh hell.


No Kruhl this weekend


Well, I won’t be posting the next part of Kruhl this weekend. A coworker of mine has been diagnosed with Covid-19 and I’m trying to find out if I need tested. The person in  question works in another department, but I frequently coordinate with that department because of my position at work. Couple this with some other stressors in my real world life, and I’m just not up to editing the latest installment. Apologies, if this is a disappointment for anyone.


Have a delightfully demented weekend,

Daniel A. Wolfe

The Fall of Kruhl | Ch 12 Pt 2



Official Report
Tondzaosha Police Station
Tondzaosha, Idaho

Amelia’s eyes cracked open. She attempted to sit up, but only managed to pull herself up about an inch before she struck an invisible wall and settled back into place. She turned her head,  peering about, sucking air in through her teeth.

She recoiled as she caught the gaze of a creature slouched over a shelf. It gurgled, long tentacles writhing and gyrating in the air as a trio of blood-red eyes fixed on her. A strangled moan sounded from the reverse wall and she shuddered and looked away. She peered straight into the eye of what most resembled a lime Jello mold, the second monster gazed at her with its one great unblinking eye, quivering there on its shelf.
She gazed back at the first creature, and then a third one roosted upon a shelf along the eastern wall which resembled an enormous round bird with big black eyebrows. It cooed, emitting a dozen loud warbles before taking a nosedive off its shelf and landing in a stack of crates.

Neither of the other two monsters moved, and she bit her bottom lip, eying a row of implements stacked around the blob creature.  There was a box of glass bottles, each filled with a different-colored liquid, most look innocuous, but one of them hissed. Next to the box were arrayed a dog’s skull, a playground ball which glowed purple and a mannequin head which had the most ghastly grin on its face, and whose eyes kept blinking.

There were dozens more, some on the stranger side, but most tended toward the more gruesome, like the statue which was exuding something that looked like blood from its mouth.

She did not understand where she was or how she’d come to be there, but she had a good idea who’d brought her.

Amy thought back to her very brief encounter with Ashtar, and the warning which the alien consciousness had passed on to her.  She’d needed time for her enhanced healing factor to work through the tranquilizers and time was up. With Ashtar’s help the agent created a partitioned construct within her own mind to trick Odalrik into attacking it instead of her actual consciousness and, failing some convoluted means of deception on her enemy’s part, the ploy had worked.

She set her jaw and moved to sit up, but again hit an invisible obstruction. When she lifted her arm, it would only move up a few inches. The agent pushed out with all the strength she could muster, and nothing happened. If there was some way she might break through, it would not be with physical force.

She let her eyelids slip shut,  released a long breath and extended her senses. She felt nothing save for the hammer of her heart, and the blood coursing through her veins. It was almost as if someone had encapsulated her within a dome of transparent GUNQ.


Her eyes snapped back open as the sound of gunfire rang out. The walls and doorway stifled it, but it was still discernable. Shrieks of rage, followed by brief bouts of silence and more gunfire.

“LEOFFA!” A voice screamed from somewhere outside the room, again muffled, but still audible and clear. “Show yourself!”

Amelia froze, her heart pounding in her ears, as her mind raced. She had no idea who was fighting on the other side of that wall, but she didn’t think it boded well for her at all. The agent gritted her teeth,  and furrowed her brows.

A wave of power rippled out from her palms and she grunted as it rebounded on her and into her chest. She panted and clamped her jaw shut against the pain. In retrospect that hadn’t been the brightest idea, but she had to try something.

She took several deep breaths, attempting to steady herself and reached deep within herself ensuring that she’d done no damage to the child before releasing her breath and opened her eyes again.

What chance did she have at making an escape, if she couldn’t breach the invisible field around herself?

She sighed, as she reached out with her mind, probing the surrounding space attempting to find a hole in the barrier, but found none. The agent slumped back and growled under her breath. It didn’t look as if she’d be going anywhere soon.

“Ashtar,” she said clenching her eyes shut and emitted a soft moan. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas, do you?”

No answer came and she sank her teeth into her lower teeth, letting out several choice curses. “Of course.”

A high-pitched wail sounded through the air and Amy’s eye’s snapped open. She sat bolt-upright, only realizing that the barrier holding her in place was gone, a few seconds later. Amy peered around the room, eyes locking on the door, before she leapt from her resting place and bolted through it.

She stopped, holding her breath in her throat. Kruhl lay off to one side in a pool of her own blood, three more bodies lay scattered about the room, either dead or unconscious. A figure stood, a familiar gem-topped staff clutched in one hand and Waldere stained with blood, raised over another figure curled up in a fetal position.

She narrowed her eyes, centering them on the figure which she presumed to be Odalrik.

She squared her jaw and balled both fists at her side. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The figure spun around, and she felt her eyse grow wide. No, not Odalrik, it was Teressa. All at once, the second part of Ashtar’s warning rattled about in her mind. You are being influenced, not all is as it appears. The shadow of the goddess’s words rang through her mind and at last the last puzzle piece fell into place.

So little about their predicament had made sense until now.  The phone line cutting out, the computer burning up and the dark cloaked apparition were all her doing. At last, her true enemy stood before her.

Teressa must have seen something on her face or else decided to end the ruse. She charged toward her would be sister. Amy, however, was ready for it. She threw her hand out and  sent her attacker slamming into the opposite wall.

“Who are you?” Amy moved toward her, both hands clenched, eyes burning with anger. Whatever doubts she had evaporated when her opponent attacked.

Teressa did not answer, instead scowled and eye hder captor like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. Amy was not intimidated, least of all because the other woman was pinned to the wall, but she’d faced down gods and giants. Though her opponent had shown she could be dangerous, she was no Chemosh.

“Who are you?” the agent repeated her question between clenched teeth.

“You know I would have thought an AEGIS agent wouldn’t have been so easy to fool. I barely even had to try, all the effort I put into imprisoning poor Brian, and I could have just—”

Amelia jerked her hand back, motioning at the wall behind her, her face now a mask of rage as Teressa went soaring across the room and slammed into the reverse wall face first.

“You played me.” She launched herself at the other woman, hand gripping the hair on the back of her scalp. Teressa, whose face was red from obvious pain, attempted to kick out at her, but Amy slid aside and sent another wave of force to pin her legs against the wall along with the rest of her body.

A light whimper rang through the air, and Amelia glanced back, eyes searching for the source. It was Kruhl. Good lord, the once-king was still alive, but from the looks of things she wouldn’t be for long. She snaked her tongue over her lips and returned her attention to her captive.

“I will only say this once.” Amy growled. “Tell me who you are and what you’ve done with my brother.”

In answer the faux-Van den Broeke emitted a loud, guffawing, almost manic laugh. “And why should I do that? Go ahead waste your time with me, while poor little Kruhl bleeds to death. It’s the least of what he deserves.”

Amy froze, another puzzle piece falling into place as realization dawned on her. For the other woman, this was personal and knowing what she did of Kruhl’s past that could mean only one thing.

“Leoffa,” the agent uttered the name, knowing at once her suspicions were true. Kruhl had presumed her former lover dead. While getting impaled through the gut was often fatal, especially in less advanced societies, like Kruhl’s, it was not unheard of for someone to recover.

The agent glanced over her shoulder for a second time, heart hammering in her chest. Kruhl didn’t have much time and she couldn’t afford to waste what little she had left on the imposter. She licked her lips, already settled on a course of action.

Leoffa was not going to cooperate.  The agent clenched her eyes closed, placed both hands on either of the woman’s cheeks and reached out to touch her mind.


Amelia jerked away, sharp stabs of pain shooting through her skull as she took air in, in short jagged breaths. She’d sensed Brian, his presence was as discernible as if he were standing opposite her, looking his sister in the eyes. She caught sight of pulsating green lights and a figure resting in a bed. When she reached for his mind, everything went black and she staggered back gasping for air.

“Brian.” She spoke the name and peered up at Leoffa, already preparing herself for attack, but the other looked about as bad as the agent felt. She was hunched over, both hands braced on the wall, her face pallid and the sword and staff had fallen to her feet. Only her eyes revealed the anger which burned within.

Amy ground her teeth, raised her hands and hurled a blast of telekinetic force toward her opponent, but the other woman sank to the ground and grasped hold of the sword. When the blast hit, nothing happened, and Leoffa glared back at her, scooped up the fallen staff and rose to her feet.

“I have no desire to end your life, agent,” the sorceress said planting the staff on the floor, the tip erupting with brilliant violet light. “Nevertheless, I am prepared to defend myself.”

“Yeah,” Amy replied, narrowing her gaze and holding both hands ready. “That’s why you attacked me.”

“Forgive me, I was caught up in the excitement of battle. I believed you a threat, but you are a reasonable enough person. I think perhaps we could come to an arrangement. Even if my life doesn’t matter to you, you might feel differently about Kruhl. Even now her life slips away, allow me to walk and you may yet save her.”

Amy glanced to her side, where Kruhl was resting. She saw the diminutive woman’s chest rise and fall, but she was as pail as a ghost and the pool of blood around her was getting wider. Time was running short. Sapphira had once healed Amelia with her abilities, the agent might be able to do the same for Kruhl, but only if the little woman were still alive.

The agent pressed her lips into a thin line, suspicious by the abrupt turn around but willing to listen. The woman had lied to her from the very beginning and that didn’t generate a lot of trust.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but if you let me leave with the sword, I will not lift a finger to harm you for twenty-four hours. You have my word.”

A slow nod of her head followed a long release of air. She didn’t like it much, but if the sorceress was on the level, she’d take the risk. “Very well, we’re agreed.” She said, forcing a quiver out of her voice.

Leoffa nodded, gave Amelia a warning glance then turned away taking several ginger steps before peering back at Amy. “Leave this place, and I will allow you safe passage, but should you stay, I will destroy you. You have a day to decide.”

She turned away, moving through the wreckage of the police station before stepping out into the open air and disappearing into the shadows. Amy only hesitated a moment before spinning around, rushing toward Kruhl and lunged to her knees at the other woman’s side. Blood seeped into the fabric of her slacks, but she paid it any mind.

Hands whipped out, hovering over Kruhl’s wounded abdomen, and the agent closed her eyes, stretching her senses. Kruhl’s presence was faint, save for her wound which burned scarlet bright in the agent’s mind. It throbbed, reverberating through Amy’s awareness as if the pain were her own. She pulled her hands away to clutch at her stomach, but stopped herself, instead willing her senses deeper. The flesh was jagged and raw about the edges, like torn fabric. Her insides weren’t any better, the attack had left them shredded to a pulp, and blood and stomach acid were gushing out.

Amy bit her lip as her fingers tingled. She concentrated on the injured flesh, willing it to mend, and, to her surprise, it began to knit together. Her stomach exploded in burning and throbbing with each pulse of healing energy. Her insides burned with searing hot pain which radiated from her body and into Kruhl’s wounds. She doubled over, keeping herself from collapsing atop the injured woman.

Sapphira had once described the healing process to her, how by mending the flesh of another you took their injuries upon yourself, or at least the pain from them. She hadn’t imagined that it would be so intense, but it was the most agonizing experience of her life.

As the last of Kruhl’s tissue knitted together, the edges of her consciousness were tugged toward the darkness. She blinked and shook her head, attempting to shake it away, but she soon found herself laying upon the cold floor. The last thing the agent heard before drifting into unconsciousness was the steady cadence of metal clanking on ceramic tiles.