Prologue
Seth's P. O. V.
The fluorescent light buzzed. A fly flew lazily across my field of vision, confidant in the knowledge I was a very live and let live sort of guy. The teacher in the front of the classroom droned on and on about the decline of Rome or some such topic. "Why can't we hire decent teachers?" I thought to myself, "We're a private school; we're supposed to have the money for them." Let me introduce myself. My name's Seth Jacobson.
Today's October 31st, known by all as Halloween, but known by me as the day my life did a flip upside down. It was 2:05 in the afternoon, and the droning man in front of me was going on about the Huns. Ordinarily, it's one of my favorite topics, but his voice made it unbearable.
"If there was a zombie apocalypse," I mused, "He'd be the only survivor; he'd be the only one able to speak to them!"
Time. Stopped.
I had spoken aloud.
The teacher quit speaking, and stared at me, mouth agape. I felt 23 pairs of eyes drilling into the back of my head. Then, as one being, my classmates burst into cruel laughter. My shame and anger burned like a furnace around me. I thought my flesh was going to catch on fire, when, all the caps flew off every water bottle in the room. The windows flew open, and winds pushed papers all around the room.
Their laughter died instantly. The teacher's mouth closed and reopened and he intoned,
"Stand up and face the class, Seth."
I did as he said, and faced my class. Every one of them wore cruel smiles on their faces, and lava-from-a-volcano bright red eyes. I turned to my teacher, half suspecting what I would see. I was half wrong, it turns out, he shared their cruel smile, and pointed teeth, but his eyes were the dark of the abyss, not red.
He rasped in an ancient voice, "Greetings, bastard son of Hecate. Prepare for the end."
My class and teachers skin did something that can only be described as melting. Beneath this, they were creatures made of shadow and fur. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran.
I sprinted down the hallway, running faster than I knew I could. I felt light headed, and was hallucinating that my body was changing back and forth. One moment, 5'7 and slightly chubby with green eyes and dirty blonde hair, the next, six feet even, with a slim, but muscular physique with what I later learned to be hazel eyes and brown hair so dark it was almost black. I heard a collection of eerie howls coming from behind me and I picked up the pace. I made it to my locker, and hurriedly undid the lock as I heard the horde moving quickly.
I grabbed my phone.
"Damn it," I hissed, "Out of battery."
Then I had a stupid and rather reckless idea. I did have tennis practice this afternoon, so, I grabbed my tennis rocket.
"What a ridiculous way to go," I mumbled, "defending myself from a pack of God-knows-whats with a tennis racket. The howls got closer, and I heard them running. The end of the day bell rang, but only one person walked out. Of course, of all the people in the school, it was Craig.
I probably should explain. I am completely and irrevocably in love with Craig. He's a 6'1 swimmer, gets average grades, except for math, he's a math prodigy. I met him last year, and ever since second semester of that year, I've had a little bit of stalker crush. Well, maybe more than a little bit. Figure-out-his-schedule-to-get-maximum-sight-time little bit of a crush. Strike that, it's not a crush. It's love. I knew it since I first really saw him. It was during Biology class, and while learning about alleles and Gregor Mendel, it just hit me. He was the one. But, it's a constant boxing match in my head, between hating him and loving him. Sometimes he's sweet and nice and perfect, and other times he's a total jerk. It's kinda hard to explain, so I won't go into any detail. He turned around and looked down the hallway, and seeing the monsters, his eyes widened, and he promptly fainted.
He woke up only a few seconds after he passed out. The horde was running full speed, but thank God it was a long hallway. I knew he saw through the illusion that at first I had not seen through.
"Wha-what the fu-"he stuttered.
But before he could finish his profanity, the tennis racket in my hand gave a shudder as though it recognized the situation and the enemy that was quickly approaching. It burst into flame, and became something heavier, but still well balanced. When this happened, the flickering between body types ended.
Almost as if the transformation of my tennis racket had helped it be decided I had finally stayed in the muscular form. Craig no longer towered over me, we saw eye to eye. He took one look at me and cringed away. He. Fucking. Cringed. I wanted to die. I looked so much better than I had before, and he doesn't like how I look? What the fuck is that? I was enraged and depressed at the same time. My vision gained a reddish tinge.
I lunged towards the Horde with my former tennis racket, now black and gold curved sword in hand, and let out an unearthly yell.