Emerald green eyes opened as a Ben groaned. He groggily sat upright, with his back slightly hunched. Ben swept his light chestnut bangs out of his eyes, yawning sleepily. His lean, muscular torso was encased in a white wife-beater, that was accentuated when he stretched his arms above his head.

Looking at his clock, Ben noticed he was up on time for once. Ben dressed himself in usual attire. Black jeans, a black leather jacket over a green hoodie with a black shirt underneath that. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he stared at the messy rat's nest that was his head. "Eh, fuck it."

He drove to school in his black and apple green camaro. Getting to his high school, Bellwood High, he leaned on his car, hands stuffed into his pockets. Ben took in most of school body congregated outside or walked inside.

A beautiful Asian girl walked to the entrance from the other side of the school. Her black hair was cut short. She adorned a pink hoodie, with a white mini skirt that showed off her long, toned legs and emphasized her hips. Her warm brown eyes locked with his, before presenting Ben a million dollar smile and waved welcomely. Ben returned it with crooked grin and a lazy salute, he jutted out his index and middle fingers from his forehead upwards. Julie Yamamoto, she was a prodigy tennis player at Bellwood High.

Watching the girl walk away, Ben thought to himself, 'sophomore year might not be so bad'. But then again, it was high school. The center point of gossip, low self-esteem, peer pressure, bullies, and the point in their lives where they have no clue what to do with it. So, then again, it might be the same as last year, maybe even worst.

It was mid-morning when Ben felt something hit his head. It wasn't enough to hurt him, but enough to annoy him. It was a paper ball. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his two childhood bullies: Cash and J.T. snickering haughtily.

These dicks, again, Ben thought to himself.

Ben tried to focus on his schoolwork and block anything Cash or J.T. did to him. But as the minutes went by it was getting harder and harder to restrain himself. He grit his teeth in fury as the pencil in his hand snapped. Ben kept his head down as his eyes started to glow a golden orange, like flames. His nostrils inhaled and exhaled deeply, his exhalation was light smoke.

Julie saw Ben as the bullies continued to pelt him. She noticed his shaking form, and his white knuckles crushing the pencil he used. Julie even heard his uncontrolled breathing. What she didn't notice was the smoke rising upwards, no one did.

Ben's anger calmed considerably when the school's sprinklers came on. The water lightly pelted everyone.

The school body was called outside as a few teachers stayed inside to find a source of a fire. When no staff member found anything, the school body was told resume their school hours. It caused moans and gripes from the majority, even from Ben.

He stood at his locker, getting a few things for his next period. "Hey!" His attention was called towards the beautiful Julie Yamamoto coming towards him with a warm expression.

"Hi," Ben responded a bit unsurely. It wasn't everyday—or any day—that he was approached by a pretty girl.

"You're that guy I saw this morning," Julie asked, "aren't you?"

Ben may not have been as savvy or experienced with courting the opposite sex, but he was at least good with being social, conversing, and the occasional tease. "And you're the pretty girl that made my day by giving me that smile, aren't you?"

She giggled melodically, "Wow, a girl you don't even know walks up to you, and the first thing you do is flirt with her?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it flirting."

"And what would you call it?" Julie's hands went to her hips, left eyebrow arched.

Ben feigned a thoughtful look before responding, "Seduce?"

Julie giggled once more, "You're funny, you know that?"

"A girl laughing with me instead of at me," Ben grinned at Julie, "that's a first."

Julie noticed Ben wasn't as irritable as he was when everyone was forced back to class. He was smiling, she thought his smile was cute. A vast contrast to the murderous look he had when Cash was messing with him.

"Hey," Julie called, "are you alright? I mean, with the incident with J.T. and Cash?"

Ben's grin was replaced with a glower, he sighed tiredly, "Well, I'm not happy about what happened, but I'm fine."

Julie snorted with a roll of her eyes, "I hate guys like that. Cash and J.T. need to get their own lives instead of messing with someone else's."

"I feel the same way," Ben chuckled.

The bell signaled the starting of the next period. Julie smiled, "Well, I guess I'll see you around—"

"Ben."

"Julie. I'll see you around, Ben." Julie turned around and walked to the location of her next class. Ben's eyes were glued to her form as she walked away. Ben smiled and walked away with his bag and a slight bounce in his step.

It was the last period of the day. Ben was working attentively on his assignment, or at least tried to. He couldn't focus for the life of him. It was so unbearably hot that sweat matted his bangs against his forehead and it dripped down his chin. Ben started panting as he slicked back his chestnut hair with his perspiration. A few of his peers thought there was something wrong with him. But Ben didn't care, the only thought that ran through his head was that he most likely was having a heat stroke.

Without any thought of the repercussions, Ben grabbed his things and left the classroom, disturbing everyone. His teacher tried to get his attention, trying to dissuade him from leaving. It didn't work on him. It was the last period, and only twenty minutes until the last bell. It wouldn't matter to him if he lost twenty minutes of class work.

Ben's body became scalding hot, walking down the hall. He entered the restroom, and started for the sink. Allowing the cold water to fall through his fingers, Ben saw the water turn to mist the second it touched his skin. His skin was reddish orange, like his body was glowing. "What the hell?"

He looked up at the mirror and was disturbed by what he saw. A few small red stones appeared across his face and neck, his skin was deep orange, and his eyes were golden orange. He ran his fingers across his skin and noticed how it felt like it was touching a metal pot filled with boiling water. Strangely, the heat didn't seem to affect him.

Ben hurriedly entered the stall, when he heard the door open, giving way to his childhood bullies: J.T. and Cash.

"Hey, Tennyson!"

Ben didn't notice the rising heat as he tried to compose himself. He grabbed his head to block out the incoming insults that would set off his temper. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but the past few days his temper would shorten. He never had an anger problem before so it was problematic for him.

"Come on, Tennyson! If you don't answer me you might hurt my feelings!"

Suddenly, Ben's body returned normal. Cash broke the door as he and J.T. saw Ben's body shaking. Cash was appalled, "You're crying? I haven't even kicked your ass yet!"

Ben stood and grabbed both boys by the throats and held them above the ground, with their feet kicking through the air. Cash saw Ben's eyes, his eye sockets held nothing but flames, with his breaths being black smoke.

The boys' vision started turning black. Ben dropped the the boys just after they fell unconscious. His eyes shifted to normal with his temperature slowly lowering to a normal temperature fit for a human. He grabbed his bag and exited the bathroom with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He drove home as fast as he could. Ben didn't really want to help those guys, they were unconscious not dead. Driving home, Ben felt extremely sleepy, he felt sleep's seductive voice whisper in his ears. But miraculously, he got home without dozing off.

He walked into his house. His vision was cloudy, blurry, and unfocused, but he was still capable of walking—unsteadily—upstairs.

"Ben!" Sandra—his mother—called, "come here and say hi to your aunt and cousin!"

Ben mumbled something incoherently, before slamming the door to his bedroom. Sandra watched him with confusion. "Is something wrong, Aunt Sandra?" A feminine voice called from the kitchen. She returned to the kitchen, "Oh, nothing, he's probably just tired."

Ben stripped himself shirtless, and fell onto his bed. His body started to heat up once more. Sweat poured onto the sheets as sleep gripped him. Parts of his skin became red stones, whereas the rest became orange. His heart and veins was like a lamp that brightened with every heartbeat. His body was like a crimson lava lamp.

"Ben! Wake up, its morning!"

Ben groggily woke up to Sandra walking into his room. Sandra went over to Ben's bed. She fanned herself, "Ben, why is it so hot in your room?"

Strange enough, Ben felt fine, in fact, he felt better than he felt in long time. As if someone shoved a car battery in his body. Ben sat up so he could look at his mother, "Hot? I feel fine."

"Then why are you sweating like you ran a marathon?"

Ben looked down at himself saw that he looked like he just jumped into a swimming pool. Ben shrugged, "I honestly don't know why I'm sweating this much? And speaking of sweating," Ben got up and grabbed a pair of black basketball shorts, "I'll be in the garage."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sandra asked, placing the back of her palm on Ben's forehead. He was burning up, his head felt like a furnace.

Ben grabbed her hands, which wasn't a problem since he was a lot taller than her, "Mom, if I was sick, I wouldn't be going to the garage."

"Well," Sandra watched him from the top of the stairs, "at least stay home, just in case there is something wrong."

"Will do!"

Sandra narrowed her eyes, "You're just saying that so you can skip school."

She heard Ben chuckle whimsically, "Obviously!"

Ben threw several jabs to the bag. Sweat glistened his torso with every technique he expelled on the punching bag. Ben executed a jump kick to the bag as Ben's father, Carl, came to garage. He inherited his brown hair, but Ben looks more like his mother when it comes to looks.

"Hey, Ben," he greeted his spawn.

"Hey, Dad," Ben greeted, "what brings you here, please don't tell me your going to scold me, because if you are, Mom allowed me to stay home."

"That's not it." Carl hesitated slightly, "It's just that you don't seem to talk anymore," Carl added, "well, at least not to us."

Ben gave a spinning back fist to the bag, "How do you figure?"

"Ben," Carl sat down on a chair, "you just seemed so isolated—emotionally—the last couple of months."

Ben stopped and turned his head to Carl, "Mom put you up to this, didn't she?"

Carl shrugged, "Well, she isn't wrong."

"Is there something you want to say?" Ben steadied the bag.

Carl stood and walked over to Ben, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Ben, you're going to be an adult, there's no stopping that. But despite that, we're your parents; people that you should come to whenever you need some wisdom. I can tell it hurts your mother whenever she sees you dismiss us as nothing but your parents, instead of someone you can confide in."

Ben frowned, and looked away at the bag with the decency of having shame. To hear that straight up made him extremely feel guilty about dismissing his parents, especially his mother.

"Just remember," Carl spoke, "we're hear to talk if you need someone to talk to."

"I guess."

Carl went back to his seat in his chair, "But how was school yesterday? I never got to ask."

The question alone was like adding a spark to methane. Ben performed a body punch to his leather opponent. The bag broke along with the chain that held it up. It fell against the garage door with a thump. Sand poured out of it.

Carl looked at Ben with bewildered expression. Ben shrugged pathetically, "Weak chain?"

"Yeah," Carl, "I guess, come to me on Saturday, I'll get you a new bag. In the meantime, clean this up."

Ben looked at the bag after his father left. He gazed at his hands before he felt a throbbing pain on his sides. He grabbed his torso in agony.

The teenager looked at his upper body. There was some sort of stirring—literal stirring—on his sides. It looked like something was trying to tear open his skin from the inside. Something alive.

He ran to the downstairs bathroom and locked the door. He fearfully raised up his right arm. Something stirred inside him, something that wanted out. Ben's skin seemed to stretch as the thing inside him tried to free itself.

His eyes widened, it was in the shape of a hand.

Ben looked at his reflection and backed up, almost stumbling into the door. His eyes were entirely orange, along with an extra set on his forehead. His skin shifted between a dark crimson and his natural pigment. It felt tough, like thick leather.

It took ten minutes until his body turned normal and the stirring in his body was gone. Ben felt himself and was relieved to know that he was normal. Ben gazed at his reflection in the mirror with fearful green eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

Hope you like chapter 1 and my story. Review ; )