Gregor ran his finger along the flat of the blade. It felt cool under his touch. It was the one thing he had brought back from the underland—his one souvenir from the place. He had snuck it into their apartment under his clothes. None of his family knew of its existence. His mom would confiscate it if she ever found it.

He couldn't bring himself to get rid of it—this dagger. He felt vulnerable without it. So he had kept it, hidden. He heard the sounds of Boots stirring and hastily put the dagger back into its sheath. He stowed the dagger deep down in his pocket, out of sight. He stood up, making sure his shirt covered the small piece of the handle protruding from his pocket. It did, so he walked over to the door of Boots's room. He pressed his ear against the door to make sure she was awake. He heard quiet movement inside, so he stuck his head into his sisters' room. Only to see Lizzie and Boots sleeping peacefully. A light August breeze moved the sheets on his sister's bed.

He tiptoed over to Boots and planted a loud raspberry on her stomach.

"Gregor, I sleepy," said Boots, pretending to fall back asleep. Gregor watched the shadow of a smile creep across her face.

"Come on, Boots, let's make breakfast," said Gregor."What should we make?" he asked her.

"Eggs!" replied Boots, scrunching up her face.

"Okay, let's go," said Gregor, smiling at her enthusiasm.

Gregor was reminded of his grandmother's absence by her empty bed. It lay bare between Boots's and Lizzie's. He and his family decided not to move to his uncle's farm because their grandmother was recovering from a recent heart attack. And she needed full-time care. For now she was in a nursing home. Though the doctors were optimistic that she might be able to come back home. Gregor hope so—it was lonely without her at home with them.

"Okay," yawned Boots, rolling to her feet. Gregor lifted her into his arms and stepped out of their room. He shut the door behind him. Gregor cringed as it made a soft creaking sound. He walked downstairs to the kitchen, treading quietly. The stairs creaked under his weight. Gregor glimpsed a cockroach sitting on the kitchen counter, motionless.

"Bug," said Boots, pointing to the small cockroach on the counter.

"Yeah, I know; it's a cockroach," said Gregor. He wondered if this roach had contact with the roaches that lived in the underland. Gregor thought back to when they had last infested their apartment. They had stolen his sister to defend her from a prophecy involving her death. Gregor felt protective of his sister. If anything happened to her— no, he didn't want to think about it.

Gregor turned to the cockroach and asked him, "Do you know Temp?" The roach stared back at him, dumbfounded. Gregor resisted the urge to laugh.

Gregor wandered into the kitchen, followed by Boots. She was trying to convince him she was old enough to crack eggs.

"You can try. But don't get any shell in, okay?" said Gregor.

"Okay, Gregor," replied Boots grinning happily. Gregor placed a bowl on the counter and handed Boots a carton of eggs. He glanced at her to make sure she was being careful. She was standing on a stool, cracking eggs into the bowl. A few strands of an egg had dripped onto the counter.

"All right, Boots, that's enough," said Gregor.

"Okay," said Boots, closing the egg carton. He lifted Boots off the chair and placed her on the ground. Boots wandered over to the couch. She started playing with her container of plastic animals.

Gregor beat the eggs until they were fluffy. He then emptied them into a buttered skillet, heating on the stove. The eggs made a hissing sound as they reacted with the hot oil. Gregor walked over to the open pantry and grabbed the loaf of bread off the top shelf. He closed the door quietly, so as not to wake the rest of his family. But he still recognized his mom's footsteps.

"Gregor!" called his mom. Since their frequent trips to the underland, she had been paranoid about anyone so much as walking downstairs.

"Right here," whispered Gregor. "I'm making breakfast."

Gregor walked over to the ancient toaster sitting on the counter. And then dropped two pieces of bread into the slots.

"Here Boots, want to press the button?" Gregor asked his sister.

"Ye-es!" said Boots running over to him. Since his dad had gone back to work, it had become his responsibility to make breakfast on weekdays. Boots pressed the button and giggled as the toast dropped into the slots.

"Boots, can you tell Lizzie we need to leave soon?" asked Gregor.

"Ye-es. I big girl," said Boots, trotting upstairs.

Twenty-three minutes later, they heard the bus honk.

"Bye, honey," said Gregor's mom, embracing him, then Lizzie.

"Bye, Mom," said Gregor, grabbing the jacket he used to conceal the scars covering his arms. Gregor and his sister walked outside to board the bus. Already the day was beginning to heat up. It was going to be another warm one. They boarded the bus and made the uneventful drive to their school.

Gregor stepped onto the asphalt and saw his friend Angelina waving. Heatwaves rose off the tar, blurring Gregor's vision. The smell of hot tar reached Gregor's nostrils.

"Hey, Angelina," said Gregor walking towards her.

"Hi, Gregor, you excited about your race today?" asked Angelina. Gregor had rejoined the track team shortly after returning from the Underland.

"Oh, yeah," said Gregor, pretending to smile. He had been nervously anticipating his first race of the season. He had worn long sleeves to practice, but he didn't expect to get away with it again. Not today, at least. What if someone saw his scars? He couldn't exactly blurt out, "Oh, you know... I got this fighting an army of rats in an underground city. And this one breaking a sword across my knee, you see, I was their warrior. But then I killed myself."

He'd be landed in a mental institute if he told anyone the truth. But what would he say? "I stuck my hand in a blender?" Ha, ha, that's totally believable. "I caught a rare disease that gives you puncture wounds?" That sounded ludicrous even to him. "I got attacked by a dog?" That was somewhat believable since most of the scars on his arms looked like bite marks. As long as you didn't look too close. But what if someone did? He'd have to come up with another excuse.

"Gregor!" said Angelina, breaking his train of thought. "We should go; the bell is about to ring," said Angelina, heading towards the school building. Gregor and Angelina fought their way through the crowd. They managed to enter their classroom as the bell rang.

Gregor sat through math and history before realizing he hadn't seen his friend Larry today. He had been so preoccupied with his race that he hadn't noticed his other friend was missing.

"Angelina, do you know where Larry is?" asked Gregor, leaning over to her.

"Oh, I heard he was in the hospital," said Angelina, with a concerned expression. "Really?" asked Gregor. "His Asthma?" he asked. It wasn't uncommon for him to be hospitalized when his asthma flared up. Angelina nodded. "We should go visit him," said Gregor. "Yeah," agreed Angelina, "Tomorrow's Saturday, so we don't have school. I can meet you at your house by ten if that works for you."

"Sure," said Gregor, "Saturday's fine."

Gregor didn't talk to Angelina again until lunch when they lined up with the other students. Gregor was thrilled because today they were serving small plastic bowls of Mac-'N'-Cheese. As Mac-'N'-Cheese went, it was some of the worst he'd ever tasted, but he was famished and engulfed the bowl in a few minutes.

"Be back in a minute," said Gregor to Angelina, as he headed toward the restroom down the hall. She nodded back at him to acknowledge she had heard him. Gregor was halfway to the bathroom when he heard a faint cry for help. He continued forward, unsure if he had imagined it when he heard it again. Gregor took off down the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the tile floor. He ran along walls of lockers toward the source of the noise. He made a wrong turn and had to retrace his footsteps. This happened several times before he came upon the cause of the shouting. Two brutish boys were taking it in turns bludgeoning a third, smaller boy, who looked about Gregor's age or a little younger. The tallest of the three boys—an unpleasant-faced kid with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an upturned nose—brought his fist back and sank it into the smaller kid's stomach. He bent over, groaning and clutching his stomach. His face was streaked with tears of pain.

"Look guys," said the smallest boy, "I'm not looking for trouble," he said earnestly.

"Great to know," said the blonde-haired boy sarcastically. He then hit the boy directly in the nose, causing blood to begin dripping onto the floor, staining it red. Splat! Splat! Splat! "Leave him be!" shouted Gregor, springing forward.

"Now what do we have here?" said the biggest boy, turning his attention to Gregor. He shoved the smaller boy onto the floor with his left arm.

"Run!" whispered Gregor to him. The boy didn't need telling twice; he set off down the hallway at a hobbling sprint.

"Why'd you do that?" asked the smaller of the remaining boys. "We were teaching that kid a lesson." His eyes narrowed in anger at Gregor. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson," he said threateningly.

"Sorry, you'll have to wait," said Gregor, turning to go. As he turned, something rammed into the back of his skull, knocking him to the ground. Gregor felt as if his head had been split in two; eyes streaming, he swayed, trying to focus on the approaching boys. But he had barely staggered upright again when a thick, muscular arm squeezed around his neck. "Get—off—me!" Gregor gasped. For a few seconds, they struggled; Gregor pulling at the boy's ham-like arms, and the boy trying to squeeze Gregor's head to pulp. But eventually, he managed to pull the boy's arms off. Panting, he bent over, readying himself for another attack. He was not disappointed; the two boys came at him from either side, kicking and pulling at his limbs.

The boys were actually trying to force Gregor into a locker when his rager side began to kick in. In a few seconds, Gregor went from defense to offense. He fought furiously, hitting them repeatedly. Anguished cries filled the air, but Gregor didn't let up. His vision was splintered into fragments, letting him see only his opponents' weaknesses. The scent of blood reached his nostrils, but still, he didn't let up. Even once the boys had landed on the ground, he didn't stop: he kept kicking them.

It was a cry of alarm, along with the presence of many bodies, that brought Gregor back into reality. His vision quickly shifted back to its normal state. His breathing, however, did not. He was panting madly, and his pulse was throbbing in his ear. Below him were the bodies of the two boys. Both were unconscious and bleeding profusely. Gregor was pretty sure one of them had a broken nose, and the other's arm was stuck out at an unnatural angle.

"What happened?!" gasped Angelina, who had arrived a moment ago, clutching a stitch in her chest. Half of Gregor's homeroom was now standing, watching. "What happened?" repeated Angelina. He didn't answer. Partly because he was focused on the unconscious boys, but mostly because what he had done was completely inexcusable. Gregor was beginning to worry he had killed the boys, when, almost in perfect unison, they both came to, with great, heaving breaths.

Someone must have called 911 because, by that point, four medics were dashing down the hallway, carrying stretchers. They ran some basic tests, bandaged the larger wounds, and then carried the boys out on the stretchers. Gregor stood back pressed against a locker, frozen with horror at what he had done. He had only been trying to protect the kid, and then he'd lost control. He was a monster! One who wasn't fit to be around normal people. Gregor felt sick. His hands were shaking and his heart was pounding in his chest. By now the hallway was flooded with people, so Gregor managed to slip away without being detained.

What was going to happen to him? He was almost certainly suspended from school. Was what he had done bad enough to get him expelled...? Arrested...? His palms were moist with sweat and his mouth had gone exceptionally dry. One thing was clear: he had to get out of the building and as quickly as possible. No use waiting around for the police to show up... But how would he get home? Neither of his parents could afford to take a day off from work. So what options did that leave? He'd just have to run, he decided.

He was about to set off toward the exit when he got a good look at his clothes. It looked like he had been thrown into a high-power blender: his jacket was torn in many places, his jeans had a large split across the groin, and the shirt he was wearing under his jacket was frayed and torn. Not to mention the dirt all over his body, and the small blood stains that were splattered all over him. If his mom saw him like this, she would flip.

Actually, Gregor realized, she wouldn't be home until she was finished work. He could go home and change, and she need never know what had happened. If she found out, she would be worried sick... he'd have to keep quiet.

Having reached this conclusion, Gregor made for the exit. He made it out of the building at a fast walk, as soon as he reached the sidewalk, he broke into a run. He reached their apartment building in under 15 minutes, something he never would have managed in a calmer moment.

He climbed the stairs (the elevator wasn't working) and entered the empty apartment. He quickly changed his clothes and shoved his old ones deep into the trash. He covered them with some garbage lying around the apartment. That way no one could see any evidence he had been fighting.

When Gregor's parents got home that night, he talked little and went to bed almost immediately after dinner. He didn't even bother to undress. He just flopped into bed in his jeans and shirt, waiting for sleep to wash him into oblivion...

Gregor glanced nervously behind him. The rats were closing in. He slashed his sword at them but somehow dropped it. It bounced off rocks before falling off the cliff he was standing on. He was out of space, he couldn't run anymore; there was nowhere to run. A rat rammed into him, and next thing he knew, he falling down, down, down, through open space.

Gregor plummeted at breakneck speeds ever closer to the ground. As he fell, he noticed his friends falling from the sky too. Their bodies began exploding on the rocks below and agonized screams filled the air. Any second now he would hit the rocks!

Alright, guys, this is the first chapter. There are many more to come. Let me know what you think!