“Wow, time flies so fast when you’re having fun,” Deen cheerily said, as if our three-hour long shopping spree fully charged her batteries instead of draining them like it did to mine. What the hell was wrong with her? Was the majority of the human race like this? Maybe we should just be wiped out by Adumbrae. “You had fun, right?” she asked as she propped my new bike, a foldable one, against the side of the cabinet.

“Yeah, it was fun,” I replied, putting on a smile that was about to break because I didn’t have any more interaction points to squeeze for the day. It was like fighting a losing battle keeping in your poop as you rushed home.

What the fuck am I thinking?

I was totally out of it—completely pooped, if you will.

Okay, just shut up, Erind’s brain. Jeez, I was so tired my brain was going cuckoo.

“Good night, Erind.” Deen waved, walking out the door. “See you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow,” I echoed with my last ounce of social energy. I closed the door on her face—gently, even though I wanted to slam it shut with my all my might. It’d probably be cathartic popping it off its hinges. “Good night.”

I stepped over the paper bags littered all over the floor—the stuff we bought—and teetered to my bed, allowing myself to fall face first on the inviting mattress as soon as I got close enough. I hadn’t realized I could get so drained I nearly dropped my face—that’s a no-no for Rule #7. I’d rather die than let that happen. It was weird I felt tired because I already regained my super powers.

Examining my right hand, I saw the pimple patches on my palm were crumpled, the makeup fading, hints of the crystals peeking at me.

Then I flipped over, faced the ceiling, and punched the air several times. My fists moved so fast they made whooshing sounds. I wasn’t good at punching, or any kind of fighting for that matter, but with my super strength and speed, I made it look cool and intimidating.

“I’m back,” I whispered. “Hehehe…” This felt so good. I sensed my powers gradually returning while we were shopping. And as we were having dinner at a restaurant, I was tempted to test my strength on the silverware, but I wasn’t an idiot to do that with Deen beside me. How about I find something to test it with now?

I didn’t want to break any of the furniture in the room. Maybe there was something I could use from the stuff we bought. Rummaging through the paper bags, I found the folder with my certificates from the lab testing.

Right, I should take care of this. Visiting the police station again would be such a hassle.

“Another test…after six months?” I muttered, reading the details on the papers. I already knew this was going to be a pain in the ass, recalling Dr. Cornelio checking the BID database. Once you had a record, it was there forever. In my case, since as I was in an “at-risk” group given my circumstances, it was reasonable they’d want to retest me to be sure an Adumbrae didn’t infect me in the interim; seeding usually took a long time, which was why my case was very peculiar. Or maybe, I simply wasn’t aware SpookyErind was inside me all this time? “Oh, well," I said with a sigh. "I have six months to prepare for that.”

Checking more of the fine print, I found out I had to retest bi-annually for the next three years, then annually for three years after that. This was pretty okay, I guess. I wasn’t even sure if in three years I’d still be alive, or if I’d even have control of my body.

To be fair, I got off lightly. I was expecting to get tested every month or so since I lived at ground zero of a quite devastating seeding outbreak. I imagined that if something Adumbrae related was recorded in connection with my encounter with Kelsey, I’d be more closely monitored with that kind of history.

Thanks to Johann for recommending lenient conditions, as well as Dr. Cornelio for approving them.

I take it back that I want hotter coffee to splash on you.

Something fell to the floor as I flipped through the documents. “What was that?”

A small piece of rectangular black cardboard with gold borders, it had some writings and symbols on it in white ink. A black silk ribbon was tied in a neat bow through the hole on its top part.

A bookmark? A fancy but old one, its sides frayed in places and traces of smoothened creases ran across it.

There was a passage written in the middle, which read:

1 Enoch 7:4 And when men could no longer sustain them,

the giants turned against them and devoured mankind.

Huh?

Was this Dr. Cornelio’s? Must be. He was the last one to handle my papers before I got them.

I never took him for a religious guy. I expected someone in his line of work to be more on the atheistic side. But then again, someone regularly exposed to dangers of Adumbrae might turn to find comfort in religion. My recent experience taught me people reacted in unexpected ways to extreme situations.

This bible passage was creepy as fuck though. Who the hell thought this was a good quote to put on a bookmark?

Enoch? Was this even from the bible?

It was ages ago, but if my memory served me right, Aunt Emily mentioned Enoch not being a canonical part of the bible. She wasn’t an actual aunt but a family friend I was instructed to call an ‘aunt’ when I was a kid.

Every social neighborhood gathering she attended, she always tried to preach about her religion. I couldn’t remember the name, but it was a form of Neo-Core Christianity—a reformation of a number Christian sects to include the existence of Corebrings and Adumbrae in their teachings. She did make awesome braised brisket and apple pies, so she was always invited and everyone just put up with her.

I couldn’t forget her because she was insufferable and loud, and she forced me to sit beside her so she could teach me how to get to heaven. But even as a kid, I knew better than to throw a slice of apple pie at her. I just sat down, my hands on my lap, and listened like the good girl I was.

She did say Neo-Core Christianity included the books of Enoch in their bible. Something about those old texts as proof that Adumbrae and Corebrings fought thousands of years ago, way before World War II.

Probably a bunch of nonsense.

The peculiar drawing on the top part of the bookmark must be the symbol of the Neo-Core Christian denomination Dr. Cornelio was a member of. It could also be that someone just gave this to him. There were more scripture notations below the passage like, 2 Enoch 33:1, 3 Enoch 13:1–2, and 4 Enoch 20:5. These ones were handwritten using a red pen, and were hard to read with the black background.

“Was there even a fourth book of Enoch?” I wondered, as I stowed the certificates and the strange bookmark in the drawer beside my bed. I could ask Johann to give the bookmark back to Dr. Cornelio the next time we met. “Now, what could I test my strength on?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Not the foldable bike, although it was hardest thing I got. Deen was so happy when she bought it for me as a gift that it bordered on creepy. She even wanted to buy me glasses, which I had to decline, explaining that my eye sight wasn’t that bad and I’d buy a replacement tomorrow.

She kept on telling me I was practically part of her family. It felt like something companies said when they were about to violate employee rights. Maybe I was just being cynical about this whole thing.

I never really had a close friend…or rather, someone who considered me a close friend.

“Bike lock?” I said. “This could work.” It was the one with the long shackle, not the chain lock type. I didn’t even notice she bought this as well. How thoughtful.

A renowned brand, and it felt sturdy in my hand, a good test subject. If I bent the shackle only a little, maybe I might still be able to use. Hey, if I had enough strength to bend it, then I should be able to fix it.

“Ssshhhitttt…” I hissed through gnashing teeth, putting everything I had in bending the shackle. It creaked, but after a few seconds, I let go of it. I wasn’t sure if it budged at all. “Still straight?” I said, holding it up against the light.

Slightly bent.

Good enough. I shouldn’t have expected much. I did have super strength, but I wasn’t that strong to destroy heavy duty locks.

What if I transformed and bit the lock…nah, I wasn’t that much of an ungrateful bitch to nonchalantly destroy Deen’s gift. And I was going to use this too.

I should still test out transforming though.

As a rule—just a small letter ‘r’ rule—I shouldn’t transform into Blanchette while inside Deen’s house. Who knew if she might walk in on me, or if her future-seeing pet might negatively react in some way? However, I decided to make an exception this time, something I couldn’t do with capital letter ‘R’ Rules. I excitedly jumped on my feet and ran to the vanity mirror in the bathroom.

I scratched away the pimple patch covering the crystals on my palm, and concentrated. Gold liquid flowed upwards from the crystal, swirling in the air before condensing into a blob. It slowly solidified into the Blanchette mask, changing color from shiny gold to deep red.

Here goes. I put it on as I watched myself in the mirror. The mask was going to become a face.

One blink and Blanchette took the place of Erind.

Hello there.

I grinned, showing more of my beautiful teeth, each one long and sharp like spear tips. It had only been a few days since I last turned into Blanchette, but it felt like ages. Funnily enough, it wasn’t my short stint as Pino that made me miss my Blanchette face—okay, that too, it was annoying being indestructible but physically weak—but rather the time I spent as a…quote, unquote…normal human again.

I scraped my fangs with my claws, savoring the grating feeling. Then I snapped my jaws, the power of my jaw muscles making me giggle. My head rattled each time my upper and lower teeth collided with each other.

Best feeling ever!

It couldn’t be denied that a normal human body sucked compared to this. I bit the air a few more times, harder and harder each time. Oops, not too loud. Deen or her sister might wonder about the strange noise.

Of course, a normal human wouldn’t be hunted down the BID or the Corebring…normalcy had that going for it I suppose.

But this…THIS.

THIS IS AWESOME!

Maybe I didn’t want to be normal agai—WHAM!

I punched myself. “Graooawo..grrw,” I slowly said to my reflection, tapping the mirror with my clawed finger to punctuate each word…or growl. Don’t think that way, was what I meant to say to myself.

Normal.

Return to being normal? Did I want that?

I shook my head. I shouldn’t think about that now. Maybe I didn’t want to know my own answer to that question just yet.

I went out the bathroom, making little exited hops. I kicked aside the paper bags to make space. My claws swung across the air. Then I followed it up with kicks and punches. I controlled myself in case I inadvertently let out a battle roar as I got immersed in shadow fighting. Dario would probably laugh at my moves, or lack thereof. I would probably also laugh if I saw a video myself.

All the monsters I met in my condo…how could have I fought them in my Blanchette body…?

So far, I fought as Blanchette with brute strength and inhuman speed, mostly guided by instinct, cooking up superficial battle strategies, relying on my ability to get stronger and heal myself by gorging on my enemies.

That wasn’t enough.

I needed practice in actual fighting if I wanted to become stronger without transforming. I couldn’t keep on relying on my giant werewolf mode.

But how?

Try copying martial arts videos online?

Maybe I could get Myra to help me? Sounds like a dangerous idea.

Speaking of my giant werewolf form, that was another aspect I also needed to practice: controlling the raging werewolf mind, and turning myself back to my normal Blanchette form too. How the fuck was I going to practice that without an enemy to eat?

I stared at my claws, wondering if I could’ve won against Stella as a giant werewolf. I wasn’t so sure…she could destroy buildings with her laser. How would my werewolf body fare against that? And she was getting bigger and stronger as time went by, just like me. However, unlike me, she didn’t have the constraint of needing to get hurt and then eating enemies to grow.

That would’ve been a losing battle.

Perhaps, that was why SpookyErind advised me not to go the Blanchette route.

Oh yeah, what did happen to Stella’s corpse? I recalled Officer H-Something mention people stealing Adumbrae body parts and selling them as charms. I removed my Blanchette face—that was enough fun for the night—and booted up the laptop I borrowed from Deen. I was going to buy my own once I got my credit cards sorted out.

“Poor Stella,” I said with a smirk.

I saw a picture of her gigantic body lying in the midst of destroyed buildings. It didn’t look like the usual carcass of an Adumbrae I saw on TV…or that I had seen with my own two eyes. It was more like someone put the Statue of Liberty downtown and pushed it over. Most chunks of it were indistinguishable from the rubble around. I could pick out her feet and hands; those were easier to spot.

I tried to find a picture of her face to see her expression when she died, but it was pretty hard to find since the BID carted the head off as soon as possible, it containing the Adumbrae-infected brain and all that.

Eventually, I ended up on Snippet, checking if people were sharing pictures and videos of the incident.

Just curious. Maybe someone managed to get a picture of me?

So far nothing…

Mostly a bunch of bullshit that I never thought people would do. Like a group of people breaking through the police cordon around Stella’s corpse as a ‘pilgrimage’ to the site of a ‘holy battle’ between Corebrings and Adumbrae. There were those demonstrating trinkets and all sort of shit that people were supposed to buy to protect them from Adumbrae. Police were also called in to stop a riot in a small neighborhood where the residents started accusing each other of being Adumbrae.

I was so fascinated by this nonsense that I kept on browsing Snippet despite my general dislike of social media. I came upon a video of the leader of the protesters encouraging everyone to join their cause of raiding the hospital where the survivors of the Adumbrae attacks were housed.

This must be what Officer H-Something meant by ‘aftershocks’. “This city is going insane,” I said. “Bit by bit.”

A link to another video caught my eye, 'SVS Plea' was the caption. I clicked it and sure enough it brought me to the familiar page of the Silent Vigil Society, the small group of wackos founded by that woman managing the occult store at Serenade Bazaar. I think she went by the alias ‘Initiate Reginus’.

Her face was the thumbnail of the video, ghost-like complexion even paler than mine, piercings of strange trinkets on her lips and ears. It was a pinned post on their page, and had thousands of reactions, a couple of hundred comments. She must be getting popular. Good for her.

I shrugged as I clicked it, wondering what she was up to these days.

“Red Hood,” she said as an opening, “if you’re out there, if you're watching this, the city needs your help. Save us. Fight for us!”

The fuck?