PART TWO

TRANSFORMATION

October, 1977

WARNING: Graphic. I tend to think that getting changed from one species to another would be a little more painful than it is ever portrayed.

VINNY ROSSI:

"Yoshi!" I greeted. "How are you, friend?"

He smiled and bowed politely. "Very well," he answered.

"Come in, come in," I invited, waving toward him. He closed the door tightly behind him and walked to the counter. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Well please," I gestured, "make yourself comfortable. I was just about to close up. Let me make you something."

He sat down at one of the booths and looked out the windowed wall at the darkened streets. "How is your family?" he asked.

"They're all doing very well," I assured him as I flipped the sign over so that it read "closed". "And yours?"

He smiled in reply. "All is well."

"What can I get for you?" I questioned. "The usual?"

He nodded once. "I will be most grateful."

I turned and walked around the counter, into the open kitchen area. "Where have you been, so long?" I asked. "I haven't seen you in more than a month."

He watched out the window as a woman and her child passed by in the darkening street. "I am been busy," he sighed. "I am in search for furniture, and a means to get it at my home."

I studied him for a moment. "I thought you had furniture," I noted, concerned.

"I used to," he answered. "It was wet in a flood. Rain this passing week destroyed much my belongings."

I spread the dough out in preparation. "I am very sorry, Yoshi." I thought for a moment. "You know, I have a friend who was donating a whole bunch of furniture to the Salvation Army, but I think it was mostly bedroom furnishings. Mattresses and dressers and the like."

He considered that for a moment. "I might be able putting those things to good use," he said quietly.

YOSHI:

Something was wrong. I could feel it as I neared the lair. It was no smell, no sight that warned me; only a feeling deep inside of me that there was danger nearby. I slowed and scanned the area. It was dark and silent. I could hear water trickle in the distance. Only the quiet scurrying of rats warned me that I was not alone. I paused at the door and waited for my sixth sense to give me a more directed warning. But I felt nothing. Slowly, I pushed the door open.

A strange smell invaded my nostrils. The scent was unfamiliar, like nothing I had ever come into contact with before. It was not unpleasant, like burning metal but faintly sweet. The air felt charged, as if the oxygen itself were electrified. On the floor, I saw a thin trickle of light. I knelt next to the glowing material and brushed my fingers over it. It was a liquid, but much thicker than water. It glowed even on my fingers and I rubbed it together between my thumb and forefinger. What was it? And what was making it glow? Some sort of chemical reaction, perhaps.

I stood and looked around me. Someone had been here. I knew that for certain now. They had left evidence of their visit. But why had they come? Had they left the oozing gel here on purpose?

I walked slowly to the table, on guard against the pitch blackness around me, and set the box of pizza on the tabletop. I considered lighting the lamp that rested there, but decided against it. I was comfortable in the darkness, and fully aware of my surroundings in this familiar place. And if, in fact, I was not alone, it would be to my advantage to remain in the darkness.

I walked through the living room, silent and cat-like. There was a faint glow that illuminated the silhouette of my bedroom door. Something, or someone, was inside my room. I watched the shadow for a moment, but it did not move. Finally, I pressed one hand to the wooden door and pushed it open.

The room was lit by a pool of the same light green fluid that had been spilled in the living room. I scanned the room instinctively for danger, but nothing moved save the four turtles crawling in the pool of glowing substance. I looked around me again, and relaxed slowly. Whoever had been here was long gone.

I felt a shooting pain come from my hand and glanced at it. But as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Strange. I flexed my fingers a few times, and felt nothing more. Oh well. My body was not as invincible as it once was. I sighed as I considered that. I was in no means incapable of practicing the arts, but I was perhaps less able to impliment them on a younger opponent, such as Saki. Dormant anger flared as I considered him, and I immediately pushed the thought aside. Why was I thinking of him now? I had not heard from him for many months.

I stepped forward, into the substance, and knelt down to retrieve the turtles. "What are you doing?" I smiled as I picked one of them up. He ducked inside of his shell instinctively. "You should be by the heater. You know that."

I cleaned the ooze from the underside of his shell and set him on the bed. I knew that he would not move from that spot, when the ground was so unfamiliar. I cleaned his brothers and carried them into the living room. I placed them by the space heater. To me, it was not particularly cold; but then, I was warm-blooded. They were not.

They did not move as I backed away from them. They made no attempt to emerge from their shells. I stared for a moment, slightly confused. Ordinarily, they would be halfway across the room by the time I backed five feet away.

Another sharp pain shot through me, and I looked down at my hand a second time. This time, the pain did not stop. The tips of my fingers were burning. In a moment, my entire palm began to sting. It felt a great deal like a chemical burn, but there was no evidence of irritation on my skin. I walked to the table and to the jug of water resting there. I poured some of it into the basin and washed my hands, hoping to remove whatever chemical was causing the burning sensation.

That pool was going to be difficult to clean up if I could not get it on my skin. I considered that for a moment. I had knelt in that chemical as well. How foolish of me to expose myself to a foreign substance without any kind of protection. I was going to have to go up to the streets and to the truck stop where I was able to shower. I would never be able to wash all of it from my skin.

My thoughts shifted for a moment to the turtles, and I wondered if it had affected their skin as well. It probably had. That would be reason enough for them to not come out of their shells. I should wash their skin first. With less surface area, they could potentially be killed by such a chemical.

I tensed at the sudden pain from my palm. My feet were beginning to burn, and my other hand. I could feel the heat spread over my legs to my knees. I felt as if a thousand needles had been stuck into my hand. I pulled away from the water as I realized that it was not helping. My skin tingled, and I could feel the chemical seep through my flesh. I stared in horror as I felt it flow to my fingertips. It was like acid flowing through my veins. For the first time, I considered that it might be deadly.

It spread over my hand slowly and began to run up the length of my arm. I stared at it in horror, well aware that there was nothing I could do. Whatever it was, it was inside of me and I could not get it out of my bloodstream. Even if it had been an option to seek medical help, I knew that I would not make it all the way to the hospital. I was helpless against this enemy.

The pain was becoming more intense. I clenched my teeth and took in a sharp breath as I felt it pulse through my hands and feet. My eyes stayed trained on my hands. I watched as the hair on the back of my hands began to grow at a noticeable pace.

I felt a pressurized pain add to the fire in my blood and my fingers spread wide as every muscle tensed on its own accord. A scraping beneath my skin, added a new pain. The bones were changing. I could feel them transform, ripping cartilage between them. I forced myself to breathe, to concentrate on the air entering and exiting my lungs.

The bones expanded; I felt several of them break and reform in a different pattern. They pressed against my fingertips, tearing through the thin layer of muscle. The bones were sharp tipped; whether they had reformed or were broken splinters I did not know. I felt the points scrape the inside of my skin and braced for more pain.

It came like a tsunami, washing over me all at once. The infected blood reached my heart and I felt an explosion in my chest as it shot through my body. Bones cracked in my feet. The sharp points in my fingers ripped through the skin and tore off my fingernails. I could not take a breath to cry out. I could not move. I could not begin to fathom what was happening as my brain registered what was happening and I collapsed into blackness.