Brandon had been planning for months. Ever since he obtained the Medallion of Zulu and knew what it could do. He could be anyone with its help. That was its power. If he was touching it while touching a piece of apparel that had been worn by another person, he would start to gain traits from that person.

If he was in contact for a very short time and had a specific type of attire, like a clove, he could transform his hand into a copy of the hand that had last worn that glove.

If he held the connection a little longer, he could gain the arm, for a whole body that would take a much longer time. Finally, if he could maintain the contact for an extended period, he could gain mental traits, like memory, knowledge, or personality.

True, there was the risk if he held on too long, that he would lose himself entirely. But that risk wasn't going to stop him. He had done his research. Brandon knew exactly how the medallion worked. He had tested it out. In the end, he had returned to his own form. He was sure this would work. This time he would transform and stay that way forever.

The first step was to steal a piece of clothing from an elderly woman. He didn't want to be an old lady. Not by a long shot. He wanted to be a popular, young woman. He wanted to be a cheerleader. He knew just which one. Not the head cheerleader. He didn't like her; she was a bit of a bitch, and he didn't want any of her personality to rub off on him.

There was a cute member of the squad he did like. Dawn was twenty years old, five foot four, on one side or the other of a hundred pounds. She had wavy brown hair that descended to the bottom of her shoulder blades, dark eyes, perky B-cups breasts, and the most wonderful smile he had ever seen.

Brandon knew that he couldn't just become her. If he did there would be two cute identical cheerleaders. That would lead to trouble. But something had to be done to the original.

His first instinct would be to give her his life. But that wouldn't work either. She would know who had done this to her and that would cause problems. She would certainly make a fuss.

Brandon didn't want to murder the woman, but he had to get her out of the way. He had to put her somewhere where she could be taken care of, but not be a problem to him. Something that would make sense to everyone.

After a great deal of thought, Brandon decided that an old lady would be the perfect choice. Brandon volunteered at nursing homes far away from the college. Facilities like that were always looking for free help. He did whatever they asked of him. He didn't mind. While there he got to know the residents.

Brandon had a type of person in mind. It didn't matter what the person looked like; he was looking for a certain mental acuity A person with obvious mental difficulties. Someone who was easily confused. When those personality traits were manifested in Dawn, her story wouldn't be believed. That was the most important.

Brandon stole a sweater from a woman in her eighties. She didn't notice, she had plenty. She had trouble knowing which day it was half the time. But at the facility, she is well taken care of.

Brandon entered Dawn's room. She was asleep on the bed. He quietly walked to her closet. In his right hand, he carried a box containing the medallion and the sweater. His own hands were covered by gloves to prevent any accidents. He didn't want to end up as an old woman.

Brandon opened the closet and looked inside. Dawn's apparel was in there, Tops, skirts, jeans, and dresses, but what he was looking for was her cheerleading uniform. It didn't matter what apparel he chose as long as it belonged to Dawn.

Brandon found the uniform. It was a tri-colored uniform, light blue and red with white accents. Most of the bodice and arms were light blue, with a red skirt and a red V from the shoulders that met at the upper torso.