Fletcher shivered and pulled his arms close as he walked around the park. He didn’t know what he was looking for—or if he even was looking for something—but he didn’t know what else he could do.

  The tingling had started only five minutes after the doors closed, running the entire length of his body. It was just as it had been when he was ten, but so far, no new notifications had popped up warning him of greater conversion or new [Skills].

  The problem was he had no idea how long he was going to be stuck out here. Back in Loketa, Clouds could last up to two or three days, and even if this one formed quickly, it didn’t mean it was going to go away fast. He liked to hope so anyway, though, for the sake of his own sanity.

  It’d been a couple of hours by now. The sky was a dark crimson, stealing whatever sunlight he would have had to warm himself and leaving the entire outdoor area dark as though it were late evening despite the fact it was only early afternoon.

  Fletcher was freezing since he’d stupidly not brought his oversized coat with him—not that he’d thought he would need it back when he left his cell. As miserable as he was, it helped to remember that he kept that kid safe. There was one less Hexed child out there thanks to him, even if it did mean he might freeze to death once night truly set in.

  The tingling along his skin was starting to itch, but no amount of scratching eased it. He was doomed to this kind of discomfort the whole time he was stuck out here, adding to his afflictions.

  The only good news was that he didn’t think he could ever have this bad of a week going forward. Nothing could compare to getting blown up by terrorists, getting kidnapped, meeting his estranged mother, pissing off his long-lost sister, and getting trapped in a Hex Cloud all within the span of a few days.

  Reaching an intersection of the path, Fletcher mentally flipped a coin and then went right, back towards the base and the rocky shelf it was buried in. Addy was right, it was pretty out here in the peaks of the mountains, even in the bath of maroon lighting from the Cloud of death lingering all around.

  Maybe he was looking for something. He needed some kind of shelter or warmth for the night, and he wouldn’t mind tracking down something to eat as well. Not that he thought this well kept park was going to provide any of that—not easily—but it didn’t hurt to see what he could find if he was going to be out here a while.

  Pretending he had a purpose out here helped him ignore the downward spiral his life had recently begun while also keeping him from scratching every inch of skin off as the tingling refused to let up.

  After another two hours of wandering the paths, a far stronger sensation than the tingling took over. All at once, multiple patches of his skin lit up in pain, the most noticeable being on his abdomen, while several of his teeth ached fiercer than he’d ever felt in his life.

  Fletcher fell to his knees, his breath leaving him in broken gasps. Within a few moments, the pains passed and his body settled back into the tingling, just as he got the notification he’d been dreading.

  [Conversion Percentage Increased by 1%]

  [Conversion Percentage: 2%]

  He tried to calculate the ratio. As long as the Cloud wasn’t here more than sixteen days, he wouldn’t convert all the way to [Demanlic]. Then again, if the Cloud was here that long, there was a chance he’d freeze or starve to death before he saw himself hit one-hundred-precent conversion.

  Standing up, Fletcher discovered little bits of a hard substance scattered around his mouth. He spit them out into his palm. They were small and white colored, reminding him of the material used for dental fillings in his…

  His teeth…

  He ran his tongue along all his teeth, but they were all smooth with no sign of obvious missing fillings. Fletcher stared at the material, sure of its origins but doubly sure that his teeth were still whole.

  Or perhaps whole once again?

  Had the radiation actually repaired his teeth? He dumped the contents of his hand on the ground, turning the hypothesis over in his mind again and again. But what would it have been repairing in his abdomen? He already got that [Healed].

  Lifting his shirt up—and ignoring the bitter cold assaulting his skin—he discovered that the thin scar line was gone, giving him back his unmarred skin as from before. Checking a few other sites where he remembered there being pain, he found that all his scars were healed completely.

  Huh… was all he could manage to think about the situation. He wrapped his arms back around himself to protect his body from the wind while putting his focus on the parchedness of his throat instead of the uncomfortable transformation which accompanied his additional Hexing percentage point.

  Fletcher left the paths to take a shortcut across the field to reach the river so he could risk drinking the water there. It was really, really cold, but he was thirsty enough to down plenty of long swallows anyway.

  Once he finished, he returned to wandering the grassy area of the park. He kept his mind empty since if he allowed himself to think, he just fell deeper into the unhappy spiral of wondering how his life took such a nosedive. While he was thus engaged, his eyes caught sight of something abnormal near a collection of boulders that looked to be nothing more than decoration.

  He went to investigate and discovered a round metal door with a sign on it which read, “Emergency Radiation Bunker.” He took the greenlight as a sign that it was active and working.

  Tugging it open, Fletcher found a small, metal and stone room that held a short, wide shelf stuffed with supplies; an open area which could comfortably fit around five grown adults; and a small partially enclosed toilet stall.

  “Maybe they’re not so cruel afterall,” Fletcher said, pulling the door closed behind him. Electric bulbs above provided ample light, but it was still freezing in the underground bunker.

  He went to the shelf to tally his supplies, but the moment he set eyes on the blankets, he grabbed several of them and draped them around himself, eager for the warmth. After that he selected a couple of water bottles and a bag of rations and settled into a corner to devour his meal.

  Stomach full, he realized he wasn’t shivering quite so bad anymore, but unfortunately the tingling was still there, though fainter than what it had been outside.

  “So not a perfect escape,” he murmured to himself. He tossed his used wrappers in a pile and explored more of what the bunker had to offer. Along the wall opposite of the shelf, there was a light switch, a clock, and a small dial which showed the outdoor radiation level.

  All the way in the red. That’s bad.

  There was nothing that showed how much radiation the inside of the bunker received, so Fletcher had no idea how much this was actually going to protect him. He paced the small room for the next few hours, tired of the boring metal walls but unwilling to go outside and take on more radiation than he had to. No reason to get Hexed above what he already was.

  The rest of the day wore on slowly. He ate again in the late evening and afterwards went to sleep since his feet were sore from all his pacing in his too-small boots.

  It was difficult to sleep with the cold and the tingling, but he laid on his pile of blankets until the late morning out of stubbornness and a vain attempt to pass time. The dial still showed red with no sign of letting up.

  Fletcher was eating a rather late lunch when the next notification came.

  [Conversion Percentage Increased by 1%]

  [Conversion Percentage: 4%]

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  I guess I got one during the night, he thought as he picked at the rations before him. There was no pain from this increase, but that was probably because there was nothing left to heal that hadn’t been taken care of when he bumped up to two-percent.

  The conversion rate was a lot slower than it had been outside, but he still hoped the Cloud would let up soon. Surely it couldn’t last more than a couple of days.

  The day passed slowly as he tried to entertain himself with what he had on hand. There was a deck of cards, so he played solitaire until he wanted to rip the cards in half and then moved on to playing poker against himself. He won every time.

  As he ate dinner, he considered his family. At this point, they had to know he was out here, and in that case, his father likely told them about his prior Hexing. It was a weight off his shoulders to realize he would be able to openly discuss it going forward in his life.

  I wonder what they’ll think about it… about me, Fletcher thought to himself. In response, a new notification popped up, different than before.

  [New Skill Acquired: Read Thoughts, Level 1]

  “Is it really that easy to gain [Skills]? You just have to think about it?”

  Of course no one answered. It must be due to his higher conversion percentage that he could obtain new [Skills] at all given he’d never gotten anything since his initial [Dark Vision] in sixteen years of living with this curse.

  Late that night, just as he turned off the lights and his [Dark Vision] activated, a second notification accompanied it.

  [Conversion Percentage Increased by 1%]

  [Conversion Percentage: 5%]

  “Goodnight to you too,” he muttered as he wrapped himself in his blankets. He tried to remind himself that this was still better than being out in the radiation unshielded. Due to his lack of movement during the day, sleep was near impossible to come by. He laid there awake for hours, staring at the faint, gray outlines around him thanks to his [Skill].

  [Level up: Dark Vision]

  [Dark Vision, Level 2]

  “That’s never happened before.”

  Fletcher wasn’t sure if he was imagining it because of the notification, but it seemed that his vision wasn’t quite so faint anymore, the outlines taking on a new crispness as he glanced around. At least he was gaining something from all this trouble as well.

  At some point, his body finally gave in, and he fell asleep. Unfortunately the Hexing had other plans, and a short time later, Fletcher woke up to a strange feeling in his eyes. The tingling sensation across his body which accompanied the radiation had become a permanent addition to his existence at this point, but this was different.

  It started off as a stronger form of the tingling, but steadily it increased into an ache. Fletcher shut his eyes tight, willing away the discomfort, but the pain continued to intensify until he was sitting up, clutching his face. This wasn’t anything like the pain when the radiation healed him either.

  No.

  It was the same kind of pain as when he was a child, only more acute. Something else accompanied the pain, and it took him a few moments to realize that he could actually feel the insides of his eyes shifting and changing.

  That was worse than the agony. It reminded him of waking up during the surgery back in Bren’it’p, except this time it was his own body doing this to him. Tears formed in his eyes as he gritted his teeth against the pain, his body straining in some vain attempt to ease it.

  And then it was over.

  The pain and shifting in his eyes disappeared, leaving only the same faint tingling that had been there before. There was no mirror, but he knew in his core that something about him was changed in a way that wasn’t Human.

  Fletcher laid back down and closed his eyes, sleep refusing to come for the rest of the night. He didn’t get up or even open his eyes until a beeping sounded from the wall with the radiation sensor.

  Preparing himself for bad news, he rolled out of his makeshift bed and turned on the lights despite not really needing them. He was blind for only a second as the notification passed.

  [Dark Vision: Inactive]

  “Finally,” he said to no one as he stared at the dial which was now sitting at the edge of yellow and green. At last the Cloud was dissipating. There was hope for him yet. The tingling was entirely gone which meant the bunker was fully protecting him from the Hex

  Cloud, but there was something Fletcher needed to do before the doors opened and he faced other people.

  He had to know what changed.

  Selecting the heaviest blanket to wear out, Fletcher left the bunker behind, exiting into the late morning sunlight with only a hint of pink in the sky. The air was warm enough he ended up leaving the blanket behind as he looked for something that could provide a reflection.

  It wasn’t long before he located a still puddle. Taking a breath, he leaned over it and stared down at himself.

  It was still him. Blonde hair, white skin, Human ears, the start of a beard after five days without getting a chance to shave.

  But his eyes…

  Instead of the usual green that always stared back, it was a deep shade of crimson, just as he saw when looking in the mirror while his [Dark Vision] was active. Only it wasn’t active now. The change was permanent.

  Fletcher softly touched the corner of one eye and then the other. There were still flecks of the original green in there, the smallest hint of what used to be.

  His eyes were the only difference he could find, and based on the pain he’d felt, that was likely it. While he hated that it was something so obvious, given everything that could have happened, it was relatively minor.

  “Not too bad for five-percent [Demanlic].” He smiled at himself and then looked back up. This was going to be okay. He was basically still Human. Give him a pair of colored contacts, and no one would be able to tell the difference—until it came time for a blood test at least.

  As if to spite him, just one last time, another notification popped up.

  [Conversion Percentage Increased by 1%]

  [Conversion Percentage: 6%]

  “It really wants to test me, doesn’t it,” Fletcher murmured.

  He walked the park for a while longer, enjoying being free of the bunker, and about an hour later, a long siren sounded that didn’t sound particularly ominous. All at once, the doors leading inside opened up.

  It was over. He’d survived.

  Fletcher made his way to the nearest entrance, the one he’d gone outside from originally, and he was pleasantly surprised to find a welcoming party already there—both parents, Nora, Addy, and Jeric.

  Addy was first to rush to greet him, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him. In fact, all of them froze upon catching sight of him.

  “Fletcher… you’re…”

  “Yeah. The eyes.” He gestured to his face.

  “But you’re normal otherwise. The eyes are the only difference. I don’t believe it.” Nora came to stand beside her. “You should be a lot more of… whatever you are.”

  “Oh. Right. It’s a funny story, actually, but I’m a—” Fletcher stopped speaking when he caught sight of his father’s wide eyes and quick head shake.

  “You’re a…” Nora motioned for him to continue.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m a [Demanlic].”

  “Fletcher,” his father hissed.

  He turned to him. “No. I’m not doing this. I’m not going to keep lying about it, Dad.” He pointed at his eyes. “It’s not like it’s exactly something I can hide.”

  “That’s not possible. Humans can’t become [Demanlics.] They’re not like other Unhumans.” Addy stared at him doubtfully.

  “You were already Hexed, weren’t you?” Hazel stepped forward with a cold fury in her eyes.

  Fletcher nodded. “Same day as Jeric and Addy.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense. You would have been discovered by blood tests eventually,” Jeric said.

  “I was only at one-percent conversion. Blood tests can’t detect that low.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from tapping his fingers against palms. Why hadn’t his dad told them all this? Why try to keep it a secret still with such obvious evidence?

  “But you were out longer than us. Addy is the slowest known species to convert, and she still took on five-percent that day.” Jeric crossed his arms, a frown on his face.

  “What are you at now?” Addy asked, her face drawn in thought.

  “I just hit six-percent.”

  “Six-percent? How slow do you convert?”

  He shrugged. “I did hide in the bunker for the most part.”

  She sucked her bottom lip. “Still, by my estimates, that would put you converting at a tenth of the rate of me.”

  “This doesn’t leave this group,” his father said suddenly.

  “If anyone asks, he’s a [Vampire],” his mother concurred.

  She was taking this well. Scarily well.

  Hazel then forced a smile. “Let’s give you a chance to clean up, Fletcher. It’s your birthday after all, and we managed to put some plans together.”

  Fletcher smiled back. He’d lost track of time. In truth, having an entire day focused on him was a lot more attention than he wanted right now, but he was willing to give this whole family thing one more go.

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