After months of planning, it was finally time to get back what was rightfully hers. The idea that anybody could only be ‘temporarily’ a Humie was absurd, once he was property, he would always be property. He was responsible for someone’s death. Because of him, there was now one less life in the world. Life for a life, Iris thought, there’s no way he should have ever been allowed to be human again.
Strictly speaking, Iris wasn’t supposed to know her old Humie was called Jason O’Connor. She wasn’t supposed to know what he looked like as a person, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to know he’d moved out to a small west coast town, not long after his sentence. Iris was determined though and sought out answers to her old pet’s identity. She’d had to play the long game in order to do it.
Iris had gone to Troika’s local facility incognito, to pretend she was interested in actually becoming a Humie, but wanted more information. She was taken into a small room by a young lab assistant called Nathan. Nathan looked a year or two older than her and she could tell was a little intimidated by speaking one to one with her. This was her in, swiftly getting past the Humie talk, she started to flirt with Nathan, who clearly hadn’t been flirted with his whole life. He was so taken aback; he didn’t even notice that Iris had dropped her interest in volunteering as a Humie altogether.
Iris then asked Nathan out on a date, which he immediately accepted. Iris smirked knowing she was now a step closer to reclaiming her ‘lost property’. All she had to do was string the poor love struck sap along for long enough to get access to some confidential data. The length of time wasn’t as long as she’d thought. After a month of disappointing dates and disappointing sex, she and Nathan were well and truly an item. Nathan was so amazed that this gorgeous woman seemed so interested in him, he missed things such as she never invited him to her place, or introduced him to her friends and family. Iris meanwhile was introduced to everyone Nathan had ever come in contact with.
She was relieved that she’d given him a fake name, to go along with their fake relationship, or else someone she actually respected might trace this back to her. On a day when she knew he’d be working late, Iris showed up to Troika again. She claimed she forgot he was finishing late and asked if she could wait in his office. Reluctantly, Nathan agreed and buzzed her into the staff area of Troika, which looked very sterile and clean.
Nathan escorted her to his desk, passing some of Nathan’s co-workers along the way. They all knew who she was as Nathan had made sure everyone knew his girlfriend. As they arrived at Nathan’s office, she subtly watched as he inputted his password, smirking as she realised it was the name she’d given him spelled backwards with numbers replacing some letters. She found it kind of adorable, though not enough to feel any great shame about using him like this.
She then had to play the waiting game as Nathan continued with his work, which had something to do with spreadsheet data. Iris cared very little for what he was doing; she just waited for her chance to strike. It finally came after forty-five minutes of waiting as Nathan got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of sight, she pounced towards the locked computer. She quickly looked around to see if she was being watched before inputting the password and logging into Nathan’s profile.
She loaded up the database of Humies which Nathan had told her about one night where she got him drunk enough to loosen his tongue. The list was way bigger than she’d expected, just how many people had become Humies? They’d only been around for a few years. She managed to find a filter that took out non-criminals but the list was still extensive. Knowing she was running low on time, she used her phone to take screenshots of the five pages worth of prisoners who’d been Humified in this lab. Quickly closing the database down and locking the computer once more, Iris smiled knowing step one of her mission was accomplished.
She now no longer needed Nathan and left the lab, without even waiting for him to come back from the bathroom. She’d never see him again, she thought as she left the facility. IT was a shame really, she was actually beginning to like the dork, but she needed to stay focussed on her goal.
Searching through the database was tiring, but she’d managed to eliminate people who it couldn’t be; people with longer or shorter sentences, or people who had committed different crimes. She’d narrowed it down to three, all of whom served three years for armed robbery. She couldn’t get any more specific, her rush to get the information meant she had to leave out certain pieces of data, but it would have to do. Having three suspects was easier than having millions.
She cross-referenced the names with news articles, looking to see if she could find her prize. After hours of searching, she finally found something solid. One of the names on her list was involved in a robbery in which an elderly shopkeeper had suffered a heart attack and died. She was told something like that by the moustache guy just before she was given her Humie. This was him. The shoe who was now pretending to be a person was called Jason O’Connor and she was determined to track him down. She scanned the pictures of him in articles. He looked disappointingly generic; as Iris searched for something distinguishing, she could use to positively identify him. Then in a picture taken of him leaving court, she spotted a tattoo of a condor, on his right arm. She had exactly what she needed. Iris smirked at the irony of him being identified by a bird of prey. She liked the design and thought that when she had her Humie back, she may have it printed on his body.
He didn’t have any social media, which made tracing him difficult. It was clear he’d left, and quickly when she discovered that his apartment was now empty. Determined not to give up, she found out through one of his old neighbours that he’s moved out to a town called Redmond on the west coast. So, she thought, he’s moved to the other side of the country to avoid me?
Iris made a post on her blog that she’d be going away for a while to stop anyone pestering her for work. She packed up, rented out her apartment, and rented a small house out in Redmond. It was a small town for sure, but seemed just big enough that they wouldn’t bump into each other accidentally. For her plan to work, she needed the conditions to be right. Iris then started setting up a fake identity for herself; she’d be Sasha Phillips, schoolteacher. That seemed unassuming enough.
Iris was sure one thing he’d be doing would be to seek out romantic interaction. She scanned personal ads and subscribed to all the dating apps she could think of, looking for her prey. After a few weeks, he was being annoyingly elusive. She hadn’t seen nary hide nor tail of him since she moved out to Redmond. She started to wonder if the information she’d gotten was false. She’d invested a hell of a lot of time and money into this escapade, to see it fail would be so disheartening. Then, when driving to the store, she saw him at the crosswalk. It took a few moments for the realisation to sink in, Iris hadn’t actually seen her prey in person before, she just had photos to go on, but that was him, right down to the tattoo of a condor on his right arm. She had the right place, now she just needed to set the trap.
After a few more weeks of trying, Iris finally spotted him on one of her dating apps. ’Jason, 34’ was looking back at her, posing in such a way that his muscles flexed. He looked quite a lot younger than he did when Iris spied him in the street; she guessed it was a picture from before he became her property. She swiped to indicate that she was interested, and waited for him to respond. She was sure he’d be interested in her, most guys were. She’d made sure to take the profile picture from a high angle, given he was so used to seeing her from below, that might give the game away. For good measure, she also styled her hair in a way she’d never done so before and worn a thick-rimmed pair of glasses.
It was only a few hours before she received a message; it was from him. She knew how to play it, string him along, until he’d be desperate for a date. He wasn’t quite as needy as she thought he’d be and the next few days were spent exchanging messages. She even teased him a little, saying it was important to her that they were both honest with each other. Everything Iris had fed him so far was a pack of lies, but she wanted to see if he’d mention his crimes. He didn’t even say he was in prison, to cover for the fact he was nothing but a shoe now. He’s just asking for his fate, Iris thought.
It was a couple weeks before he suggested meeting up for a date. Iris had him and now she could enact the second part of her plan. He was a little evasive about meeting up, but a bit of arm twisting and he cracked. He suggested a restaurant; Iris knew to be rather cheap. His last action with agency was to cheap out on a date, further convincing Iris that this was the right thing to do.
From the frequency of messages she was getting, it was clear to Iris that her prey was nervous. Truth be told, she was too. This was the culmination of months of planning, and if he recognised her and bolted, then all would be for nought. She then wondered if he would bolt upon recognising her. How would he explain that? ‘Sorry babe, I just realised I was your shoe for three years’. The way he’d lied about his past showed her he was dead set on ignoring his true calling. The more she thought about it, the more she actually wanted to test the waters.
Iris abandoned the idea of going incognito and decided to show up looking, just as her Humie remembered her. She styled her hair in her usual way and ditched the glasses she’d worn in pictures sent to him. All nerves were now replaced with a morbid curiosity of how he’d react when he saw her. She got in the waiting taxi and messaged him to say she was on her way.
The second they locked eyes, Iris instantly saw the flicker of recognition and the colour drain from his face. This was perfect; he was like a rabbit in the headlights. She wondered how far she could push him as she waved cheerily at him and approached the table. He began stammering through conversation, offering pathetically weak excuses for his behaviour. Iris sweetly played the innocent as she offered him more rope. Eventually he started asking probing questions about her job. He was fishing for final proof that she was who he thought she was.
A devilish smile flickered across her face as Iris told him the news that he feared, that she was a travel blogger. He stayed quiet throughout most of the meal and turned down the offer of dessert. Iris needed to act or else all would be ruined. Putting on her best ‘fuck me’ eyes she presented him the chance to go back to her place instead. She could see the cogs turning in his mind as he weighed up going back with her. At the end of the day though, Iris knew she had him. He had one fatal flaw – he was a man. Well, not for much longer.
Iris and Jason began making out in the back of the taxi going back to Iris’s place. She found it a little off-putting to be kissing a Humie like this, but it was all part of the bigger picture. Iris plied her quarry with drinks as they chatted into the night, she could see his worries and doubts fade from his eyes as the alcohol took hold. It was almost time for the final step. Lustily, she beckoned Jason to her bedroom, where she made a meal of getting it open.
“You want me to try?” he slurred, growing impatient.
“No, this happens all the time. Could you get me a knife from the kitchen, I’ll jimmy it open.” Iris said. Once Jason had left to go to the kitchen, she got into position.
Jason emerged from the kitchen, a large fillet knife in hand. But when he came back to the bedroom door, his date wasn’t there.
“Babe?” He asked, “Where’d you g-”
Jason didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as he was smacked over the head with a bat. Iris had only needed him to be carrying a knife to finish her plan. Putting on her best fearful voice, she called the police and informed them a drunken man had broken into her home, blabbing something about revenge.
***Four Months Later***
Iris kept looking out the window, waiting for the courier to arrive. They said it would be today. Granted they said it would be two weeks ago, but the damned idiot insisted on appealing. That was all over now and she would soon have her property returned to her. The investigation was swift, the system never looked too kindly on former Humies who reoffended. The Humie punishment was meant to prevent any chance of committing another crime, so when someone did anyway, the book was thrown at them. Such a harsh reaction was very useful to Iris, given anything could have brought her plan crashing down. The taxi driver wasn’t interviewed, no witnessed from the restaurant were sought out. It was her word against his, and Iris was an exceptional liar.
The sound of a van parking up outside, lead Iris to pull back the curtains for the tenth time that day. She saw a man in a navy uniform walk up to her house. She shot to the door and opened it before he even had time to ring the bell. She signed the forms she was required to and the courier handed her over the box, which had been hers one and a half years ago and would now be hers for the rest of her life.
Iris was excited to finally get back to her life; it had been on hold while she sought to get her property back. She could resume her travel blogging, especially now her Humie was back in it’s rightful place. As she carried the box into her living room, she absent-mindedly planned to book a trip to Prague to celebrate. Eastern Europe was lovely this time of year. Looking down at the familiar panel, she browsed through the options she had, before realising she knew exactly what to make her Humie into first.
Jason couldn’t rest, not even in his formless shape. He was incensed at being cheated out of his life. Sasha, or Iris as he now knew her name to be had manipulated and framed him now he would be a shoe forever. The security staff forwent all secrecy once it became clear the change would be permanent. Told him all about his former owner. A few of them suspected he was telling the truth about being tricked, but they were powerless to help. Troika Industries insisted any reoffender be permanently Humified, to save face. Any trial he had was merely a show trial. Kangaroo court where Iris cried crocodile tears telling lie after easily disproved lie. The fact was his fate was sealed the second he didn’t bolt from that date. He hated himself for not running away, for not saving himself. Now his punishment was the loss of his humanity.
The feeling of his body being formed surrounded him as his panel was activated. Soon he would see who he’d been given to. If he could have screamed he would have, as Iris’s smug satisfied face looked down on him once more. They’d given him back to her. He knew he was that same sandal, the one she changed him into first, the one he was when she told him she’d be back for him and now the one she’d changed him into when he knew there was no escape. He was deaf to her taunts, she was saying things, he wasn’t listening. He merely stared back at the bitch who stole his life and wished a painful cruel end to her life. Unfortunately, shoes don’t get wishes, they get feet. Very soon afterwards, Jason was dropped to the floor and reacquainted with Iris’s foot. This was his life now, serving the feet of the woman who stole his life. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it, as he was strapped in and tasted the stale foot sweat once more. This was it now. Life.