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Transformationary Tail
18. A Freak's Past

18. A Freak's Past

The dream hit him abruptly, like a car sideswiping him in traffic. He knew it had been coming, but he could tell right away that something was different.

A young Hasidic Jewish boy gazed up at a billboard advertising a drag show just a few blocks away from his synagogue. His father forcefully pulled him away, wearing a disgusted expression.

It had become a routine for his family to usher him back into the house, shielding him from the disapproving glares of their community members. Scolding had long been abandoned, replaced by a lingering sense of embarrassment.

Time raced forward, and the boy swiftly matured into a young man.

His synagogue organized a protest in front of the city hall in response to the state's decision that their private schools could no longer ignore the topic of superhumans. Sixty years had passed since these extraordinary beings began emerging on every continent.

The prevailing scientific theory pointed to changes in the atmosphere following extensive nuclear tests worldwide. It was the only explanation that resonated with the scientific minds of the time.

The nuclear energy introduced an unknown element to the air they breathed and the land they walked. As the sun filtered through the sky, it underwent a marketed change. Something they couldn’t comprehend was happening and the world governments couldn't keep a hold on it.

The history of the events after that were filled with war and conflict like the planet had never seen. It took years for laws and treaties to finally send the world back into a period of tense peace.

Despite the reality, his Rabbi had refused the facts. They would live the way they had always done so and some superhumans weren’t going to change it. They were completely unwilling to let the unholy knowledge spread into the youth.

Despite everything he had forced upon him, the young man had always agreed with the education board, but he couldn’t let anyone know his opinions. He had long since learned it was never worth it to speak your mind. It only got him shunned and abused by everyone close to his him.

They held up signs that read ‘WE WILL GO TO JAIL BEFORE FORCED BLASPHEME’.

Another stupid outcry if he was being honest.

He watched the cops corral them onto the sidewalk to avoid any cars running over the angry children.

The uniformed officers had gruff appearances and serious demeanors that sent chills up his spine. He loved to watch a working man getting down to business.

Everyone on the street looked down the block as a loud noise reverberated against the tall skyscrapers that towered over the city. The cops all turned to the cause. A blob of his peers flooded amongst the cars while they were distracted.

They began chanting away.

“We will not give in! We will not surrender!”

It was really beginning to get on his nerves. They just wouldn’t let him have a moment of peace.

He let his sign drop while the Rabbis were focused on something else. The noise blasted out again and everyone froze. One ear ringing noise was a coincidence. Two ear ringing noises was a pattern.

A deadly pattern at that.

They watched and waited with bated breaths. The noise became more clear. Crashes that sounded eerily similar to cars getting flipped onto their roofs. Screams started to filter through over the heavy cab traffic that flowed through the city's veins.

A chill ran up his spine.

The congregation gawked down the block, waiting for whatever the cause was to make itself known. Slowly, a set of large mechanical arms crept into their sight. It hefted a car up like it was as heavy as a snowball and chucked it down the road. A massive fireball encompassed the collision, undoubtedly ending the occupants.

Apparently they weren’t the only ones who had seen it as the cars lit up with a cacophony of honks. He watched the machine step farther into view, obliterating the unfortunate souls stuck in traffic.

It swiped at a smaller building to its side, destroying multiple floors in seconds.

The cabs began to surge forward. They slammed into each other in a bid to get further away from imminent death. The cops paled while trying to keep the surge of Jews back on the sidewalk.

A few screams sprouted up from around them. He turned to look for the cause. The people who had run into traffic had been pinned at the shins as the cabs played bumper cars with each other. Their shouts of protest turned into screams of terror.

The cops tried their best to save a few of the men only for more and more cars to crash into each other's bumpers, freshening the pain for all of the young men.

The robot was moving again.

Its head, hands, and feet were much larger than the body that looked incapable of supporting it as the robot stumbled around with a clumsy gate. The metal was perfectly smooth, awarding it an inhuman quality to its craftsmanship.

The crowd surged around him, throwing his sign to the ground and moving him against his will. They pushed into the city hall in hopes of safety only for the doors to clatter in place. A common practice for all buildings when a villain is in the area.

The robot lumbered in their way, killing people indiscriminately.

Some of the men around him began to climb over each other in a bid to reach safety causing more than a few injuries as they crushed people underfoot.

The commotion seemed to draw the horror’s attention. Its featureless metal face grew a horrific smiling mouth before his very eyes. A red cone crept out of the dark hole before showing exactly what it was. A large missile ready to fire off.

Before it took off, he already could hear its engine whirling up.

He ducked into the pile of surging bodies as the attack connected with the policeman nearest to them. Heat peppered his skin through the flesh shield before lifting him off of the ground with ease with just the pressure alone.

It was a spectacle that only the drag show could have matched.

His bewilderment only lasted until the hundreds of pounds of his community members' bodies landed on him with even more below. The weight cracked his bones and bruised his flesh. A few of the men were still alive as they moved around in the mass, trying to free themselves. He managed to claw his way out the side when he caught a glimpse of what was happening.

A hero that the entire city recognized swooped in from the sky above, crashing into the robot with all the force he could muster. Monstro-Man, a hero with the abilities of animals he made friendships with and the protector of much of the lower east side.

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It tumbled backwards, crushing a few cabs that had gotten away scott free the first time it passed by.

Just a few more bodies added to the total. A necessary loss compared to what the robot would do uncontested.

The brawl that followed was legendary. Monstro-Man grew bloodier by the second as he clashed with the hunk of metal. Massive dents covered its surface and several limbs had new bends to them. It devolved into a mess of attacks with hundreds of members of the public as collateral damage.

He watched as the hero tore into the metal frame while its mouth opened up to release another rocket. The attack flew out, exploding on his stomach as he wrenched its head from its massive metallic body.

That was Monstro-Man’s last moments alive and he had gotten to see it. The end of a legend. A moment that would be remembered for as long as the city stood tall.

The main event was over, but the tragedy had just begun.

The body above him forced the air from his lungs. He could feel the polluted winds of the city blowing into his face but it didn’t matter. He was too big to squeeze out and too small to force his freedom. His vision turned into pins as consciousness fled him. It would only be a matter of seconds before he was fully unconscious.

Suddenly, everything changed.

The pains in his ribs disappeared. His lungs sucked in the air. The pressure from above disappeared. His arms reached around his sides in an unnatural way, his joints popping as they moved. He grabbed onto a body and pulled himself free from the mosh pit. His feet found purchase on the back of one of his community members.

He looked down and immediately noticed he recognized the person. It was his dear old father. A light feeling of sadness washed over him. It wasn’t nearly as crushing as the drag show advertisement being taken down or the loss of his Walkman, but there was still an ache deep within his chest.

As he inspected the messy body, he noticed something wondrous. His waist had shrunk. The blocky figure of an adult male had morphed into the lithe feminine shape of a woman.

A smile rose to his mouth. It felt good to change. Beyond good.

Wonderous.

The fallout of the event was immense. The cops were blamed for nearly wiping out an entire ethnic group native to their fine city and eventually led to the official abolishment of their institution.

The young man had fled the neighborhood he had spent his entire life stuck inside. He knew he should have gone home. He should have told his remaining family that he was alive and well. Even better than he had been before the attack.

Despite that, he couldn’t. He had never felt so alive.

Without the judgmental stares and disapproving scoffs, he felt accepted for once. Comfortable in his own body.

Over the next few weeks, he got a job, a horribly decorated apartment, and found himself at the clerical office with one goal in mind. Something he had wanted to do his whole life.

“Hello, I would like to change my name.”

The woman looked up from her desk and pulled out a form for him to fill out. He looked at the line where his new name would go.

'Drake.'

He fell in love with it the first time he had heard it. It had made his father scoff when the original owner of the name had introduced himself, but he couldn’t care less. He was now Drake.

Time flew by for him as he worked his way through college, getting a degree in genetic biology and meeting many people who became a part of him in more ways than one. Some struggled more than others, but he always got his way.

Eventually, he began an internship at a prominent genetics lab working for rich parents wanting designer babies. That was quickly crushed as the Normal watch busted in and arrested the entire staff.

He was booked, led to jail, and forced into a tuna can they called a cell. His powers quickly adapted him to the situation but he knew the place was never meant for him. He needed freedom. One night he forced his way through a barred window after hours of agonizing pushing and fled for his hometown of Milenicadia.

Years flew by with him on the run and continually being taken into the Hero Union after his power had been found out when he finally decided enough was enough. His experiments had borne more fruit now than ever before. He just needed more material.

One of his many plants in the administration of the Union had alerted him to a bust that was happening and the sheer number of detainees that would be flowing right through the city streets. A few hours of prep later and everything was set up. His fleshy trap had been fully armed and now he just needed to wait.

Soon, a stream of unconscious bodies flowed into his laboratory like a row of ants.

“This will be so much fun.”

He got straight to work sedating everyone he could when he got to someone Sean recognized. It was him, staring wide eyed at the scientist like he had been hours ago.

He watched as the mad scientist took his blood and went to have it analyzed. A wave of surprise ran through the man as he read through the results numerous times. The still conscious man was home to at least four different powers.

It was something he had never seen before. His lips culred up into a smile as he thought about the kind of work he could do with such amazing materials but, unfortunately, not everything was meant to be.

The grade A material had broken out somehow. The straps were shredded to pieces in a way he had never seen before The dense material had been violently frayed along every inch of its surface like it had been twisted in every direction imaginable. His mind raced as he thought about how he could implement it into a new creation. After a few long moments of intrigue finally ended he suddenly realized the problem.

“He’s getting away!”

He commanded his experiments to go on patrol and stop the escape without the use of deadly force. It took much longer than he was happy to admit and all of his experiments had failed him, but now he was face to face with the trio of escapees.

The three men stared at him like he was a monster. If he still had any humanity left within his frigid heart, he might have been offended, but those days were long gone.

The skirmish was brutally one sided like he had expected. His decades of experience showcasing themselves in a acrobatic display. He launched through the air, ready to slice one of their throats open with his hidden blade.

Before he could finish the subpar material off, the real prize elevated his status further with the use of a mental attack. A rarity to find not in chains within hero custody.

It ringed around his head like the pleasant bell that would often grace the synagogue he had spent much of his childhood trapped inside. Torturous but melodic.

The fight continued like before and one particularly nasty kick took one of them out for good. His hand locked into place as it transformed into a deadly weapon.

Just before he could sink his hand into the material’s spine, a blast of searing hot energy melted though his abdomen. His shriveled organs disintegrated with ease and he could do little more than fall over and stare at the gaping wound.

The muscles required to move were turned into a fine mist that painted everything in front of him.

-

Sean woke up with a start as a horribly painful rush of sickness flooded his body. Everything from his fingers to his teeth ached.

Something was horribly wrong, but he couldn’t place it. He rushed to the bathroom and began evacuating from every hole. His eyes slowly opened to the beige tub and cringed at the black vomit and lightly digested peperoni.

It felt like a demonic plague had entered his body and he was in the process of freeing his soul from its grasp. It took an entire hour of purging before he began to feel normal once more.

By the end of it, he could feel something was still amiss but was unable to pinpoint it. The only thing that made sense to him was his body changing to fit the new power.

The ways he had seen Drake utilize his power was so varied and strange, but there was always one commonality. A painful and gruesome process of adaptation was the standard throughout all of his memories. The sheer discomfort he would have to experience to even test it was leagues beyond what he was willing to subject himself to.

He climbed into the shower and washed the mess down the drain. The previous days grime sliding off his body in trails of dirt. The hot water flushed his skin as a sense of normalcy slowly returned to him. It soon began to run cold, signaling the end to the meditative experience.

He turned the knob and stepped out onto the plastic floor. Hair from previous guests stuck to his feet as he made his way to the old towel that smelt faintly of moth balls. A far cry from what he enjoyed during his stay at Hannah’s mansion, but infinitely better than shivering on the streets.

A knock on the door startled him from drying his hair.

“Occupied!” He shouted to the entrance, hoping the cleaning lady would move on to the next room.

He scrubbed at his face where the hot water failed to peel some of the baked on crust away as the door shook on its hinges. The knock had turned into fully fledged slams.

“I said I’m inside. No cleaning. Busy!” Despite his insistence, the person standing behind the door was determined to get inside.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and moved to the metal entrance.

“Stop banging! I’m opening up!” He undid the various locks and turned the knob and peaked his head around the corner before craning his vision upwards.

An incredibly tall man stood before him. He was at eye level with the denim vest that adorned his huge figure and looked at a patch that said harbinger of death.

He took a big gulp before looking up to the man’s face. His body tensed as he felt the beginnings of a fight brewing in the air. The man’s face was covered in a graying beard and his eyes were blocked by large black sunglasses. The morning sun sparkled on his cleanly shaven head like it had been recently polished.

“Um, hi?”