Chapter 5: The Awakening

Ethan could feel the grass beneath him, tickling his cheek. He could hear the leaves above him rustling in the wind. He felt exhausted. It was as if he had been drained of all his energy. The boy lay there, barely stirring as a cool breeze rolled gently past.

Then he remembered what happened; something hitting his back, the strange heat through his body, the white hot pain tearing through his body. Ethan supposed that he had been jumped. The dull aching throughout his body told him that. But still he felt that something was off.

Ethan's legs twitched and he lightly gasped. His legs had bent in such and strange, alien way. It was like his knees were backwards, bending towards him rather than away. His heart began to quicken its pace as question after question popped into his head.

Where his legs broken somehow? Why were they bending like that? Why didn't it hurt? Why did he feel so off? What was going on?

The boy shifted his arms, noticing that they felt fine. Ethan's fingers, however, felt short and stubby and his thumb was further up his hand than it should be. He was beginning to panic now, hearing his heartbeat in his ears like a frantic war drum. He had to open his eyes.

Ethan did so, realising he wasn't where he had passed out. The boy looked around. He was surrounded by trees, but they were a lot bigger than he recalled. Their trunks towered over him like skyscrapers. The leaves above formed a canopy, allowing only a select few rays of light to reach the forest floor.

This definitely wasn't the way he used to get home from school. There was no worn-down and beaten path, or any litter. The trees were too close together. Ethan was totally and utterly lost. Still feeling weak, he placed a hand onto the earth to support himself as he got to his feet. Except it wasn't a hand.

It was a cat's paw.

The sight left him totally shocked, all anxiety and panic falling flat to give way to an emotional numbness. Ethan looked down at the rest of his body and found a soft, fluffy tummy, a tail, and another three cat limbs. His entire body was covered in golden tabby fur. For a second, that emotional numbness persisted.

Then Ethan exploded into panic and fear.

The tom cried out with his fur bristling as he stumbled backwards. Hyperventilating and with a racing mind, he uselessly tried to flea from his new body. This had to be some sort of nightmare or fever dream - it couldn't be real! He was a sixteen year old boy, not a cat! Ethan scrambled to his paws. He tried to run away but he wasn't accustomed to this form so he crumpled into a heap, his face in the dirt.

Ethan's heart was slamming against his rib cage like it wanted out of his body. With wide, terrified eyes he struggled to stand before stumbling away. Then, as if the situation couldn't get any worse-

-His entire body spontaneously ignited.

The tom gave a petrified, blood curdling scream. Ethan began slamming himself into nearby trees and rolling around in the dirt in a vein attempt to put himself out. His mind was consumed by frenzy, only operating on the most primal of instincts. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to put out the fire. The flaming cat picked a random direction and began sprinting - faster than he ever had in his life.

Ethan could barely see with embers dancing across his vision. All he could smell was smoke. He tripped and stumbled over twigs and tree roots, screaming and begging for help as he did so. As he burned, the tom could feel himself getting both weaker and hotter with each passing second as the flames enveloping his body persisted. It was like someone had stuck him inside an oven on the highest setting.

He could barely walk anymore, just stumbling around in search of a body of water. But there was no use. This was the end.

With all of his remaining energy, Ethan let loose a desperate caterwaul. It echoed throughout the forest, startling birds in their nests and causing them to take flight.

"For the love of God, somebody help me!"

The tom collapsed, passing out from the heat of the fire. As he hit the ground, the flames extinguished.

...

Louvel jumped awake, startled by a scream in the distance. He looked toward the direction of the scream, seeing a forest in the distance. The sight of the forest immediately caused confusion to surge throughout him. Was he in a park? How did he get here?

He looked past the forest and off into the distance. All there was were rolling plains, marshland, and mountains. Clearly this wasn't a park - rather it was the countryside. Towards the south east, there was a small town. Louvel noticed that their architecture and aesthetic was definitely not French. That raised further questions. Had Louvel been in a park, he would have assumed he simply drank far too much and passed out on his way home. But being in the countryside? What was with those houses? It didn't make sense.

Then Louvel recalled what happened to him; the strange metal, the odd sensation following it, and blacking out against a wall. For only a second, he thought it had been a dream but it seemed to be the unfortunate reality. "(What the hell happened?)" He murmured, looking around him. The musician was surrounded by moorlands. A strong wind blew past him, forcing him to scrunch up his face as a myriad of scents assaulted his nose.

Louvel never had a sense of smell that good before.

The suspicion that something was wrong crept in. Nothing was making sense. His first thought was to go into town, figure out where he was, then figure out how to get home. Louvel was about to get up before he was suddenly hit with the strange but familiar sensation of being weightless and pulled in a direction.

Suddenly, he stumbled forwards as the stench of smoke filled his nostrils. The musician placed his hands on the ground to prevent himself face planting, only to find that he had a pair of grey paws attached to limbs covered in grey fur. Dismay crashed into Louvel as he gasped in shock, stumbling backwards.

He found the rest of his body was much the same. His fur stood on end and his tail, laying before him, was bushy with fright. Louvel's breath was heavy and uneven, his body shaking as he stared at himself. The cat screwed his eyes shut, throwing his head backwards. "(This. . .this isn't happening.)" He muttered, his voice thin.

It was simply a dream. That's all it was, Louvel told himself. It was just a peculiar dream. Yet he couldn't deny how real it felt and he began to doubt his own reasoning. But for now, he had to keep it together. Slowly and steadily, he got to his paws. The tom ignored how his bones shook and how difficult it was to take even breaths. The tom had remain calm and figure out where he was. As he tried to take a step forward, it happened again.

Louvel dissipated, then was pulled forwards by some force and reconstructed. His breath hitched, looking behind him to see wisps of smoke in his wake along with embers. Then he turned to his limbs, waving his shaking paw through the air and watching as it partly dissolved into smoke and embers, reforming when he stopped.

All he felt he could do was stand still, shaking in fear with wide, orange eyes. The tom felt like laying down in the grass until his predicament somehow solved itself. But Louvel knew he had to find shelter. Looking up at the sky, heavy with dark clouds, he figured it would rain soon.

Again, the cat took a tentative step forward and, once again, dashed forward as smoke before reforming. With uneven, laboured breath he gritted his teeth and tried again. But it was no use. Any step the tom took resulted in the same thing. Dissolving into smoke and embers before reforming. Louvel could do nothing to stop, his brain wrapped in confusion and hysteria.

The cat didn't feel like he was in control of his body anymore, only a passenger to some instinct to put an end to whatever was happening to him. The cat's vision was obscured by smoke and embers, his nostrils overwhelmed by the smell of smoke. Louvel didn't know how long the ordeal lasted or how far he travelled before he eventually stopped, coughing and sputtering.

The tom panted in between his bouts of coughing and gagging. Completely drained and uncomfortably warm, Louvel collapsed onto the grass, his legs having given out underneath him. Once again, he slipped out of consciousness.

...

Íosif opened his eyes slowly, greeted with a dark grey sky above. His features twisted with confusion, wondering if he had forgotten his keys and fallen asleep outside in a drunken stupor. He turned his head, looking around slowly and finding himself surrounded by open plains. This wasn't home. As soon as he realised, dread bubbled in his stomach and his heart sank.

Recalling the events of last night; walking to the bus stop, the metal, then pain, then darkness. All encompassing blackness. Íosif knew that waking up in this place was connected. But again, he found himself bewildered. Was he dragged all the way out here? For what purpose? The possibility that Íosif was mugged seemed likely. Very likely.

He cautiously sat up and then immediately noticed his body. It wasn't his own. Rather, it was that of a house cat's. His body was covered in soft, snow-white fur with patches of grey tabby fur. The tom tensed up, his ears folding against his head. Íosif remained there in static fright for what felt like hours.

The cat so desperately wanted to rationalise his plight. He wanted to convince himself it was some surreal dream, but a feeling in his gut told him the contrary. While Íosif's brain lurched, unable to process the reality, he could only think of one simple thing.

Home.

Íosif had to go home and get ready. He had work this morning.

There was a clap of thunder from above.

He supposed he should hurry up before it started raining. The last thing Íosif wanted was to come in for his shift soaking wet.

Like a machine, his actions were automated. The tom slowly, shakily stood up. He found that walking on all fours a difficult task, his limbs were clumsy and difficult to control. Though, maybe that was from the fact he couldn't stop trembling.

The only thing that snapped him out of his shock was when a sheet of ice shot out from underneath his paws. It stretched out far in front of him, encasing everything it touched in a frozen prison. A deep rumble accompanied its appearance. Íosif stopped and stared, his blood running cold.

The tom tried to take a step back, only for the same thing to happen again. His breath hitched and he whirled around, almost slipping as he did so. Íosif's pale blue eyes darted around frantically. Once again, he found himself frozen in place with a blank mind. He didn't understand what was happening, or how it was happening, and it terrified him beyond words.

Steeling his nerves the best he could, Íosif took a step in a different direction, when the same thing happened again, he jumped backwards. Taking ragged and panicked breaths, he tried again and got the same result. He could feel his paws growing cold. Despite the temperate weather, he could see his breath.

Any facade of calmness or composure crumbled away and, in a whirlwind of hysteria, Íosif kept trying to make a mad dash with every step resulting in an explosion of ice and frost along the ground. Occasionally, the ice would appear before him like a hungry predator ready to pounce. Every time, without fail, he tried to scramble away only to slip on the ice of his own creation.

The tom cried out, a desperate plea for help.

But nobody heard.

He kept trying to flea, but the ice would chase him. It would catch up and jump out in front of him like it was mocking the futile attempts of escape. Over and over, its deep rumble would fill his ears. It was laughing at him. It kept laughing as Íosif lay down, curling up into a tight ball.

Íosif wasn't shaking from terror anymore - it was from the cold.

His limbs had almost lost all feeling save for the steady pain that pulsed through them. It felt like they would shatter at any moment. Frost clinged to his pelt like frigid parasites. Íosif's eyelids began to droop and he prayed he would still have all four paws when he woke up.

...

Thunder clapped overhead, loud and booming.

Dylan awoke with a start, panting as his turquoise eyes shot open. He was laying on his back and staring up into the dark sky above. It was heavy with thunder clouds, blocking out the sun. Rain wasn't an uncommon sight - certainly not in Seattle.

But the cold dread in his stomach told him this wasn't home.

He had nothing to confirm that feeling. Not yet. After all, Dylan was still staring at the cloud above him. G-gotta get moving, it'll rain soon, he thought to himself. But he felt so drained. It was going to take all of his energy to even get to his feet. Explosively sighing, the skater tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

It didn't work. He couldn't hear any cars, anyone's feet on the sidewalk, or any casual conversation. It was just tranquil. Dylan rolled over, opening his eyes and placing his blue-grey paws to the spongy earth. He could only stare before his eyes slowly followed down his body.

He was a cat.

The tom frantically scrambled backwards and fell over, grunting at he hit the ground. He could only stare down at himself. Paralysed in shock, Dylan took deep and uneven breaths. The beat of his heart, ringing in his ears, was frantic.

The blue-grey cat wanted to do something, but his mind was blank and his body wouldn't move. It was frozen in place. All Dylan could do was curse under his breath, his words shaking and stuttering. His fur was standing on end. This couldn't be real, could it? He couldn't explain any of it, no matter how hard he tried. It felt like his mind was about to collapse in on itself.

So preoccupied with what was in front of him, Dylan had neglected the overhead storm. He was brought back to reality when heavy rain descended, soaking him wet. Scowling, he forced himself to move through his surroundings. His movements were clumsy and strained. Walking was a lot harder than it should be.

Dylan was surrounded on all sides by marshlands and puddles of mud and rainwater. He hated how the muddy water squelched under his paws as he walked. The tom tried to look around for some form of shelter, but the rain obscured his vision. He growled to himself in frustration.

His whole body shook and he suddenly froze. His breath was ragged, no matter how much air he inhaled it never seemed to reach his lungs. It was like it was being snatched away from him. He felt nauseous. Dylan wanted to bury his head into the ground to stop it from spinning. To make matters worse, this feeling was alien to him. The blue-grey cat was lost on what to do or how to deal with this or even what this feeling was.

...Was he having a panic attack?

Thunder clapped overhead, followed by lightning. The bolt crashed into the ground, only a few feet away from Dylan. He cursed, jumping away in surprise.

Again, there was another clap of thunder that was followed by lightning.

This one struck Dylan.

He blinked in surprise, feeling the electricity flow through his body. The tom expected to start having spasms, writhing in agony in the mud. Instead, he found himself rejuvenated. It was quite the rush. Any fatigue had been wiped away. He felt like a new man, ready to take on the world.

But he shouldn't feel good from being struck by lightning. Suddenly, Dylan recalled what happened just before he blacked out. He sat on his hunches, looking at his paws and feeling an icy claw wrap around his gut. Dylan asked himself, "what am I?"

Without warning, another bolt struck him.

Dylan groaned in response. Just like the last one, it didn't hurt but it made him feel bloated and hot all over. It was almost like he had overeaten in a way. Small arcs of electricity jumped off of his body and into the air, the smell of burning ozone filling his nostrils. He felt restless, too. It was like he had too much caffeine or a sugar rush. There was some primal instinct, gnawing away at him, telling he had to burn off that energy somehow.

Once again, the tom began walking. It would be a good idea to find some shelter from the storm before-

-a third bolt of lightning struck him.

The small arcs across his body became much more prominent, more hungry as they danced in the atmosphere. Dylan gritted his teeth in pain, his eyes wide. Everywhere the electricity touched burned and his nerves felt like they were on fire. His newly-found energy was being sapped away. The cat could feel it. He panicked as his heart raced. It hurt so much. Dylan didn't know what to do - how could anyone know what to do?!

Then all his stored electricity abandoned him, bursting out from his body and escaping into the surrounding atmosphere. Dylan writhed in agony, patches of white hot pain appearing all over his body. He gagged on the scent of burning ozone, his muscles jerking and spasming.

He fell to the ground, twitching and slipping out of consciousness.

Okay, it's been a while, revamped my profile too since I'm gonna be posting again.

Where've I been? Very busy and very burnt out. Plan to stick around though, expect more from me soon.

-Mashfur