CHAPTER 2: SHADOWS AND LIGHTNING

The sense of normality never returned. Dazed, I just sat there among the wood chips as I waited for my head to clear and the dizziness to fade. I felt colder than I had before the flash, but it didn’t seem to bother me. The cold sort of felt right. It was like a comforting blanket cocooning me, hiding me. I opened my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

My vision was obscured by long damp hair that fell across my face and down over my shoulders and back. It was black… Farewell boring brown hair, but I have to say… This raised questions. Hair didn't grow this fast or change colour on its own.

My waterlogged clothes, now far too big for me, hung limply even as they tried to cling to my wet skin. They would have threatened to slip off me if they weren’t anchored to my body by short sharp black spikes like obsidian that had burst through the layers of clothing tearing them. My already worn-ragged hoodie had more holes than ever. 

I can’t say I’m not used to ‘distressed clothes’ as the more expensive and trendy brands call it. Just most of my stuff came with faded with holes and tears from lives in previous people’s wardrobes, instead of a factory treatment. Everything aside from underwear or stuff I bought myself was straight outta an assortment of thrift shops or charity clothing bins.

Ok I think I am getting distracted from the fact there are Spikes Protruding From My Body!

My anxiety levels continued to soar as I tried to count all the spikes piercing my clothes, questions raced through my head.  How did they get there and were they? Were they shrapnell? Was that flash of light and tearing sound an explosion? 

I’d felt unbelievable fine, but it was gone almost as soon as it started. I didn’t feel pain anymore, but was the cold I was feeling shock? Was I bleeding? On the verge of panicking, I grabbed one of the spikes protruding from my bicep to investigate. It was cold and slick, more like glass than any metal I’d ever felt.

Carefully not to cut my apparently tiny fingers on the sharp edges, I gently tried to pull the spike out. It was like pulling gently on a tooth, I couldn’t feel myself touching the spike or even any pain, just a dull sensation of it being firmly attached to something deep in my arm. The only way The only way I was only really going to work out what the hell was going on, was to check under my clothes where spikes met skin.

As apprehensive as I was about potentially stripping down in public, I knew I couldn’t go any further until I knew for sure I wasn’t injured. For once I was thankful a park was empty, dark and wet, it was a special sort of creepy, but I knew I had some privacy.

If my hoodie had been a pull over, I would have been somewhat stuck because I wasn’t sure I would be able to pull it over my head, given the numerous spikes jutting through the fabric. Thankfully it had my old hoodie had a front zipper. Again I found myself looking at my hands as I grasped the zipper. They seemed much smaller, dainter, more elegant than I remembered, the nails were as black as if I had painted them. 

Actually neater than if I had painted them. The few times I had tried that, I’d made a mess with polish applied unevenly and on the skin around the nails. I would hurry to apply to get as much time as possible to enjoy it, before having to remove it and prevent my foster parents from noticing.

It felt almost voyeuristic as I slowly pulled down the zipper of my oversized hoodie. Underneath, my clinging wet t-shirt that was now big enough to be a short dress, leaving me with no illusions about what lay underneath it. Letting myself momentarily forget about the spikes, I peeled off the hoodie and gave my chest an exploratory poke. 

Yup, my wet t-shirt was sticking to a pair of boobs, nipples poking through and all. My boobs. I couldn’t believe it, even my rents theories had nothing that could explain what was happening. I knew boobs took months, years to grow whether by puberty or taking hormones. I gave them another exploratory feel, more like a grope, yup definitely one hundred percent my own boobs. I caught myself smiling. 

They were a little small though...

Ok! Serious business. I need to work out what else has happened. Despite their allure, I managed to move on from the matter of my boobs. 

Unexpected movement caught my gaze. Black marks swirled and crossed my pale skin. I now had some sort of tattoos. Unlike a large portion of the people my foster parents rubbed shoulders with, I’d never had tattoos. Not one. I never saw the attraction of having a swastika or a confederate flag branded into my skin. Plenty of my rent’s friends wore their beliefs and allegiances on their skin. 

Then again I’m just the brat with no sense of patriotism… That’s coming from the folks who think the country is run by lizard people. I shouldn’t take their words to heart, but it wears away at you.

But regardless of having never stepped foot in a tattoo parlor, I now had what appeared to be tattoos running up both arms that disappeared into my shirt. I lifted it up at the waist revealed to find more on my stomach, chest and sides. Tattoos and more curves I did not wake up with this morning.

Idly I ran my hands down my sides feeling the soft curves. My soft curves. They weren’t much and I still looked kinda malnourished. My skin was drawn a little too tight over my lower ribs, that hadn’t changed and my waist. Far narrower than before. As much as I loved my new hips and waist, I resolved myself to try and put on a little more weight. If I get back home, I’d need to spend a little more of my savings on food.

The canvas of my skin was paler than I remembered, I was never overly tanned but now my skin was paper while except for these black tattoos and they moved! Moving across my white skin was pitch black smoke. As interesting and completely fucking impossible it was I couldn’t put off investigating the spikes. They seemed numerous given how they stood out, but in reality there weren’t too many. There seemed to be an order and symmetry to them I didn’t notice when I was wearing my hoodie

I had one spike in each of my forearms, another in each of my biceps, as well as one for each of my now small narrow shoulders. My head appeared to be free of spikes.  I carefully felt one in the nape of my neck and more now my spine. Two more emerged either side of my abs. There were two more on each leg jutting outwards from my thighs and calves, piercing my jeans. There were like little obsidian arrowheads emerging from my flesh, my skin with barely a seam. 

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I dragged a finger across one of the spikes sharp edged only to let out a high pitched squeal as I cut myself.

“Wow… My voice… wow,” I trailed off. My voice had a soft feminine singsong quality. If there was such a thing as a perfect voice, I would say my new one ranked up there. I glanced down at my cut finger only to catch it finishing to heal before my very eyes and the blood outside the wound turning into black mist.

“Ok.. So let me get this straight… I am now a girl I think,” I quickly pulled back the waistbands of my jeans and underwear to confirm it, before I went back to speaking to myself, enjoying the sound of my voice.

“Well I look like it… And I sound like it. Next! I think I am smaller, not sure about how much, my hair is longer too. Now for the stranger bits… I have spikes and I guess that isn’t the weirdest… It’s these tattoos, what kind of tattoo moves on its own? Not any I’ve heard of. Am I some kind of monster or something?”

I was almost willing to accept the spikes and weird tattoos as a fair price for the rest of my changes.

Ok, enough about my changes. I knew well enough about having to work with the hand dealt to me, no use crying over spilt milk, no point moping over what you can’t fix and all that. Life’s unfair, it’s crap, find a way to claw something better for yourself or learn to live with it. I have...

Making a list of goals was something I’d always found almost calming. Any problem could be broken down into a series of smaller steps and achievable goals. Staring at a problem as one whole big insurmountable thing could make you freeze up and drown in despair.

“Baby steps…” I muttered.

First I needed to find a hospital and get myself checked out, maybe they will know what is going on. I hope…  At least maybe they can direct me to a shelter or something, so I have a place to sleep and work out what the hell I was going to do. Maybe I could find the spare key and steal back my stuff from the rents before they find my nest egg or pawn my stuff. Hopefully they won’t have time to do it before I get back if they are hunkered down in their bunker waiting for the apocalypse. 

Wait…

Was that what this was? The apocalypse, like the rapture?  Is that why I look like this? I was left behind with the sinners and I’m not a demon or something? No… Calm down! There is no fucking way those two were right, there has to be a rational, non-conspiracy explanation for all of this… I just then to take this one step at a time. First things first, the rain has stopped so let’s look for a hospital and get myself checked out. I just hope the spikes and skin condition weren’t something that was going to kill me.

Rolling up the legs of my jeans, I stepped out from the cover of the climbing equipment and resumed my journey. My feet nearly slipping out of my sneakers with every step but they would have to do for now. Even if I heal fast, I’d rather not have to endure stepping on broken glass or a needle. Once I got closer to the city, I’d be able to use more familiar landmarks to navigate my way to the hospital.

* * *

As I reached the seedier parts of the city proper, I was greeted by the sound of sirens. The entire city sounded like a battlefield, I could hear gunshots, explosions, sirens, vehicles crashing, not to mention sounds I couldn't interpret.

You would think that this was room for concern, but I only felt relief. Before I reached the chaotic noise of the city, I was starting to feel like the last person or monster on Earth. I just needed to find my way to the hospital and hope I don’t run into trouble. 

It was night and the sun had set maybe an hour ago, but despite the dark I had since realised I had no difficulty seeing. Everything was within my sight in all their dark glory. I passed under a lone working streetlight and noticed something I had missed earlier, shadow clung to me even in the light, maybe especially in the light. 

It was barely noticeable where I wore clothes but I had left my torn hoodie behind in the park and my arms were bare. My arms were sheathed in an aura of darkness than clung to me, It was barely half and inch thick. “A new addition to the pile of things for a doctor to look at,”  I softly growled. 

I was starting to feel impatient, I just wanted to reach the hospital and pass out in Emergency while waiting for my turn.

I picked up my pace, but something, instinct maybe, warned me of danger and yelled at me to keep out of sight. With the noise of sirens and gunshots in the air, it made sense to listen to that voice. Like I had done all too often in my childhood, I kept to the shadows as i moved, trusting them to hide me. 

A police car sped past me, sirens roaring, in the same direction as I was heading. Three blocks later I could hear gunshots, yelling and a buzzing, sizzling sound. The commotion lay between me and the nearest hospital and I was exhausted, who knows how long a detour would take? I slowed down and crept closer make sure to hide in the shadows and parked cars.

A man, a skinhead stood in the middle of the intersection ahead, I could see several bodies already laying on the road. 

Peeking over a car I spotted several police trapped hiding behind their car as the man waited for them to come out of cover. The man looked familiar but his back was to me. In his hand was a bloodied knife, but I couldn’t see any other weapons that would explain why the police were hiding. 

The man stepped forward and I caught a glimpse of the side of his neck and a very familiar tattoo. Branded into his neck, in black ink was a pair of runes akin to lightning bolts, SS. I did know him! He was one of the neo nazi skinheads my foster parents associated themselves with, he was a dealer. Drugs, guns, stolen military surplus, you name it and Jakob Adler was your man to provide it. 

My rents were customers.

A new police car arrived on the scene and skidded to a stop nearby. I watched from my hiding place as an officer with her hair in a tight bun, leapt out of the vehicle whilst drawing her sidearm. But Jakob was quicker. I held my breath, as he raised a bloody hand towards the officer, before drawing his blade across his palm. I could only stare in horror as lightning burst forth from the wound, sending the officer flying. 

I heard one of the officers yelling into the radio, as her body come crashing back down.

“Shit shit shit! We have a ten thirty three! Officer down! The fuckin’ guy with the lightning got Jocelyn! She’s down!”

Somehow still able to move, she tried to reach for her gun where it landed. Arm stretched out, her fingers grazed the it’s grip, just before a second bolt of lightning tossed her back into the air to land in a smoking tangled heap.

“Fuck! No! The bastard hit her again! She’s not moving! We need more boots here!”

“NO JAKOB! STOP!” I jumped out of my hiding place and ran at him, barely noticing the one of my arms had turned to black mist.

The skinhead threw me a look of confusion, obviously not recognising my changed form and barely pausing before he turned his bloodied hand on me.

I winced preemptively, knowing I would be unable to dodge in time, as the lightning crossed the space between us grabbed at me. Only it didn’t reach me, I watched as it arced around me like I was in a Faraday cage while my aura consumed it and grew thicker. Grew darker...

Like a bully realising their favorite weapon no longer worked, Jakob’s expression turned to panic as he sent bolt after bolt into me and my shadow. The shadow only grew thicker and thicker until I felt something inside me give away and the shadow burst forth like the strange child of supernova and blackhole consuming everything in its path.

Where the shadow expanded, light was consumed. Frost began to form on surfaces as the heat was drained away. Lights went out as the electricity fed the shadow and people began to fall to the ground unconscious, starting with Jakob. 

I had no idea how to stop it. Last thing I felt before I fainted was fear and helplessness.

* * *

Groaning, I woke up in darkness, surrounded by concrete and steel.