“What have you got there, huh?” asks the second man, his interest piqued now that he’s seen my backpack. “Did you bring us a present?”
“Huh?” I ask, shaking a little.
The first man points to my backpack. “Think of it as an apology gift. For wasting our time.”
“I…” I glance down at the backpack, containing my only possessions, and shake my head. “I’m sorry. This is all I have. If I could just go, I would…”
“Fine,” the second man says. “Just your wallet, then.”
I take another step back, my heart beginning to beat more quickly. The door is on the other side of the room. Do I make a break for it?
The first man must have seen me steal a glance at the door, since his eyes narrow and he advances on me another step. “Thinking of running, little girl?” he asks. “Don’t bother. You’re outnumbered.” He licks his lips, his eyes sweeping me, and I can see the wheels in his head turning. Whatever he’s thinking, it’s not good--of that I can be sure. The second man is taking another step forward when the first man stops him with a hand on his arm and says, “You know what? Wait a minute. Maybe we can figure something out.”
I can feel my stomach drop at his words. “I… I’m sorry?”
“Pretty thing like you...” the first man says, his voice trailing off as he appraises me with his eyes.
Now the second man is catching on, a knowing smirk creeping onto his face. “I like the way you think,” he comments to his friend, before turning back to me and saying, “Maybe we could trade. We let you keep your stuff, and in exchange, you—”
The fear is too much at this point, and the scream is leaving my mouth before I can stop myself. “Help!” I yell, but not a moment later I realize how pointless it is. We’re inside, and even if we weren’t, the sounds of the storm are still raging outside.
The second man seems to be thinking the same thing, darting forward and seizing me by the arm. “Not happening,” he hisses, and I can smell the stench of his breath. “No one can hear you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the other guy approaching, and for the second time today I realize I only have seconds to react. I have my backpack in a death grip, and something tells me that even if I handed it over, that wouldn’t stop them. Not now that the idea’s in their head.
It’s as the panic is surging through me that a familiar feeling—that same feeling that began to well up when I realized Mark wanted to hurt me—begins to surge through me again. Like a rush of strange, cool energy that is also nice to feel takes control of me. The fear bleeds away, like a wave in an ocean brushing everything in its path to the side.
And that’s when I begin to transform.
Chapter 3
The closest thing I can compare it to is being plunged into a pool of cold water. The cool feeling that welled up inside me expands suddenly, faster than I can keep up, shooting out from the pit of my stomach and into my arms, legs, and head. It’s overwhelming in its intensity, as if every nerve in my body is suddenly bursting with energy, the cells struggling to contain it. I feel like there’s an electric current coursing through me, uncontainable and unrelenting as it pulses from my core out to my fingers. For a moment, I wonder if I’m dying. Is this what a heart attack feels like?
My body seizes up all at once, my back going rigid at the new sensation, and I see the two men look at each other--first in confusion, and then in fear. I don’t understand why they look so panicked until my eyes travel down my own body and see my skin beginning to… change color? Yes, it’s definitely taking on a reddish tint. Is this some sort of physical reaction to the adrenaline? A panic attack? It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, but I’m willing to chalk it up to some kind of medical problem. That is until I see little concentric arches rippling up my hands, first becoming hard and then flaking off my skin, like scales. They’re a shimmering metallic green, almost iridescent in the dim light streaming in from outside, and it’s at that moment that I realize this isn’t something medical--at least, nothing medical that I’ve ever heard of.
“What the fuck…?” asks the first man, taking a step away from me and grabbing his friend’s arm. “What is she…?” The second man just shakes his head in disbelief, looking at me like I’m a cornered animal that might attack at any minute.
The changes don’t stop there. I let out a surprised cry as I feel something happening to my teeth; first they feel like they’re falling out, but then I realize that’s not what is happening. They’re growing, getting longer and pointer at the same time, digging uncomfortably into my lower lip.
This has to be a nightmare, I think, plunging my hands into hair that no longer feels quite right, it’s softer and longer. I’m asleep back on the pull-out couch in Mark and Tonya’s basement. I fell asleep in front of the TV or something, and this is what I’m dreaming about. Right? Right?! But it sure as hell doesn’t feel like a dream. The sensations are all too real, too logical, and that unfamiliar feeling in my torso is stronger than ever.
“What the fuck are you doing, kid?” demands the first man, digging in his pocket and pulling out a switchblade. “This isn’t funny!”
He’s scared, I realize with a start. They both are. I don’t blame them. I’m scared, too.
“Get… away… from me…” I say, groaning
