Act 1: Herbivorous
1.01
Today was not a good day. Earlier today, I managed to get denied and laughed at by my crush, get beaten up by some E88 gang members after school and now I was going to be punished by dad for being late.
Hurting everywhere, I entered my home and closed the door carefully, hoping to avoid my father's wrath. Unfortunately, that was not to be, as I heard footsteps tumbling down the stairs, drowning my hope of a peaceful evening.
My dad looked down on me. "Who do you think you are young man? Coming back home at ten? Ten! Do you have a death wish? You are going to regret this little escapade, boy!", Dad shouted in one breath, channelling all his might and fury in that last word, as if it was a poison he needed to spit out.
I tried to keep my head high. I really did. However, I only managed to mutter, my shin pointing at my feet and biting my dry lips: "Sorry dad. It won't happen again." I looked pathetic. I was pathetic.
I should stand up for myself, I knew it, and maybe it would lower the chance of a good beating by dad, but, how could I? I wasn't strong enough. I was weak.
"It won't happen again?", he said in a cold tone, looking at me in disgust as if I was a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. Guilt and dread ran trough me, making me wish I'd run from home and never came back. "I can't believe you keep giving me that crap. When I said back home directly after school, kid, don't tell me you didn't understand!"
"I was just hanging out with friends", I lied, hopping he wouldn't decipher my masquerade. As if I had any. Actually, I did, but they weren't the normal kind.
Anyway, even in the unlikely instance that he would believe me, it wouldn't stop the punishment I was going to receive. I really should've thought before blurting that out.
He didn't seem convinced at all. "I don't care, boy!" With a final tone to it, he took out his belt and said in a crisp voice the words I dreaded to hear: "In the TV room. Now! And don't make my say it again."
After a less than fun time the TV room – 'more like torture chamber', I thought sourly –, I realized with the bruises on my left leg that he hit me quite harder than normally. I wouldn't say he went harder than the gang members that jumped me earlier, but the pain I felt right now? All dad.
I crawled on my bed, scary thoughts making the pathetic pile of garbage I called my body shiver. I wanted to sleep, so, so much. But I couldn't. The animals at the zoo needed help, and I was the only person that could give it. My muscles aching, I stood up reluctantly, and made my way towards the showers.
Entering the bathroom, I saw a familiar sight in the corner of my eyes. For a fraction of a second, I couldn't believe the reck in front of me was myself. I was a complete mess. My face looked sickly, with heavy bags under my small brown eyes. My black hair was tangled like the brush of an old broom, and my nose was had a huge, disgusting pimple on the left side, making me look like a witch. I had high cheekbones, which were generally associated with beauty. Today though, I just looked like one of those monstrous capes. I frowned as I saw my whole body in shambles, with the countless bruises, gift received directly from both my dad and E88 dumbasses near school.
I took a quick and cold shower, hoping that the icy water would freeze the pain I felt everywhere. Once I got out of the minuscule cubicle, I quietly entered back into my room, hoping I wouldn't wake up my choleric dad. My bed would feel heavenly right now, but I had to do the mission I promised myself I would do.
Earlier this month, a young chimpanzee died at a zoo from an illness no one managed to diagnose. The veterinarian, coming only once a month because of the lack of fonds, didn't catch any of it, and at night, when no one was there, the lonely monkey went into a deep sleep that he never woke from. I knew most employees, like Jerome and Penelope, found it idiotic that anyone would be sad or would blame themselves for the death of a simple chimpanzee that 'looked like any other'. I knew that this wasn't the case.
Champ was one of my best friends for months. He was a loving chimp, always bubbling with excitement, and with a very big appetite that couldn't be satiated.
His death had been a torture to me. I should have seen it. I should've seen that something was wrong. If I had gone at the zoo at night, like I did nowadays, I could have noticed the problem and cured him.
That terrible day he died, I promised myself that there would always be someone to look after the Brockton Bay Zoo animals in their times of need.
My thoughts still elsewhere, I put on my black hoody, opened the window quietly, jumped down on the bush under the window and hoped with all my heart that my drunk dad wouldn't be alerted by my escape.
Finally arrived at the zoo, the all-powerful moon was beaming in the night's sky, and I couldn't help but shudder at the cold March breeze running in the trees. The darkness coupled with the winter air and with the singing trees made it an eerie scene. The dark building in front of me was small with only one floor, and even though the architecture itself was unremarkable, it was like a second home to me. It was even where I slept most nights nowadays. I entered swiftly by the employee door on the side of the famous Brockton Bay Zoo.
After entering in the warmth of the employee's block, I opened the light and looked around.
The place was completely devoid of life, which was predictable at 11 o'clock. To my left down the corridor was the boss' office, and just further was the lunch place for the employees, where we took our pauses. To my right, there was a huge room with a lot of miscellaneous items that we used to do our job.
I walked past the short corridor into the lunchroom and went directly outside again through the back door. There was a trail going around the zoo passing by the snakes' cages, then by the feline section where the lions, tigers and other savanna felines stayed, then by the gorilla section where Gary and Manny lived, our resident gorillas, and then the trail came back in a loop after having crossed other minor entertainment sections. The zoo was not particularly big in area but contained more animals than most zoos on the East coast.
Some people – who are wrong – would call me a workaholic for going every night at the zoo to look for the animals. I'm not a workaholic, I'm just passionate, that's all. What's the saying? 'It's not work if you like it'?
My body was on autopilot as my thoughts brought me to the entrance of the gorilla section to see if Gary and Manny needed company. I slowly opened the creaky door of the somber cage, as I did every night, and peered trough the entrance to see the two magnificent gorillas resting on the rocky terrain.
My thoughts took a dark turn. I was distracted as I remembered the disappointment my dad was showing me when he glowered at me today, the stupid insults the dunderheads at school threw my way during gym class, and the beating I had after school that retarded my return home, which in turn continued the cycle of bruises and suffering.
"This is for looking at me when I didn't give you permission", the older Winslow student shouted as he kicked me again in the ribs. "And this is for being a worthless piece of shit", he said in the same angry tone. He then managed with help from another E88 gang member to stick me to a post and left me there.
'Why me?', I couldn't help but asking myself rhetorically. Was it because I was not in their stupid gang? Because I didn't fight back? Because I really was worthless and needed to see my place in the world? That was surely what everyone thought.
After their embarrassing rodeo, an elderly woman had to save me, as pathetic as that sounded, and I thanked her profusely.
But despite all that embarrassment, the worst part of my day was when I asked the most amazing girl in school to go out with me. The dark-skinned athletic girl simply answered: "I don't go out with victims", and she gritted her teeth.
She thought I was a victim. I guess I was, wasn't I? I needed to keep on fighting – figuratively, of course – and become the best I could be.
The gorillas looked so peaceful then, so free even in their eternal prison, that I couldn't help but hope I was like them, just this once. That would make everything so much easier. No more bullying, no more of this stupid city, no more of my terrible dad, not more of everything horrible that ever happened to me. Just living the present, getting looked by people that loved their jobs.
People didn't like me, but animals did. The problem was that I couldn't connect with them. Sure, they could hear me, but really understand, sympathise, talk back? Hell no.
When I came back to myself, the biggest gorilla – Gary – was looking down at me. Close, too close. He looked strangely hostile, almost threatening, which was not habitual for him. He growled at me, and I never had so little hope in my whole life. 'If only I could be like you, Gary, if only', I thought, and the huge and strong beast started to advance on me. I was going to die. I was going to die. I was going to die.
I took two steps back, but the fence stopped me from taking a third. He leaped towards me, and his strong grip crushed my already suffering arm. He then hit me once. The last thought I had before everything went black was: 'If only…'
When Liam would wake up, the dreams of nigh-invincible gods would fade away from his mind like a flower in winter.
I woke up suddenly and memories of the previous night flooded in my mind. I was dead. I had to be. The last memories I had was of me getting trampled by an angry gorilla.
I opened my eyes and looked around, blinking at the luminous sky. The sun was bright, warming me as if it was a bright summer day. Fence, metal door, section C3… I was still in the big gorilla section! Did that mean I was still alive? Looking more carefully around, I could see the gorilla couple, peacefully resting on the rocky terrain a few meters from me.
The first thing I realized was that, as I turned my head left and right, my movements felt awkward, as if my muscles were stiff in my neck. Torticollis maybe? Then, I realized that my whole body felt wrong. Not as if I was sprained in some places, or not even as if my body was riddled with bruises. No, strangely, the pain was mild compared to the previous night. Had I been knocked out longer than expected? My muscles felt bigger, stronger and I felt unstoppable. When I looked down, I realized what was wrong.
All the subtle hints came back into place like in a jigsaw puzzle. The stiff neck, the strong muscles, and the weird smells I could pick up. I saw my body as the one of a big and hairy gorilla.
As the second puzzle came into place, I realized that I, Liam Howells, was a parahuman.