The adrenaline was the only thing keeping Brett going. After being in a coma for who-knows-how-long, he had to literally run for his life.

Brett was in so much pain that he actually felt dull. His eyes were extra sensitive to the flashing red emergency lights, not just because of being asleep for so long but because he now had hypersensitive fish eyes. He hadn't even stood on his legs in a while, let alone sprint on them. The blaring sirens drowned out his hearing. Oh, and it didn't help that he was still in shock from realizing that he was some kind of freak now.

He started slowing down after rounding yet another corner. God, the entire building looked exactly the same, it was like a labyrinth of sterile white hallways with a door or window every now and then. Glancing over his shoulder while running by yet another window, Brett realized that escaping through them wouldn't be an option as he was several stories above a city. However, he stopped being concerned with his orienteering skills as soon as he bumped into the firing squad marching down the hallway. It was a group of five or six huge men decked out in grey and black body armor like a SWAT team. Each one of them pointed their assault rifles directly at the terrified fish-boy, their leader shouting "SUBJECT OUT OF CONTAINMENT FOUND" into a walkie-talkie on his chest, followed up by "PERMISSION TO OPEN FIRE?"

Brett didn't want to hear what was next. He let his instincts take over and threw himself into the door right next to him. As the sound of gunfire ricocheted off the wall outside, he found himself trapped in a large drug storage room, lined with rows of freezers storing all sorts of beakers and bottles, like a library for painkiller addicts. Brett pressed himself against a freezer at the end of the aisle as soon as he heard the guards step inside. He had no idea what to do, there was no way out of this except to hope they wouldn't search every corner of the room.

Brett stayed squeezed against the side of the freezer, staring at the wall, feeling his heart beat ninety times for each step each soldier took. As he overheard the radio chatter, he visualized them walking down every aisle, prodding around with their rifles. He was going to die here, hunted down like an animal. Brett never really thought about his death before, he always just assumed he would die of old age surrounded by family and friends like most good people seem to do. But that would happen anymore, not after going through this transformation. Fish don't die in loving arms, they die en masse on fishing boats and on riverbeds, thrown into coolers to be cut up later. Is that what they would do to him? Kill him and then keeping dissecting him over and over before just throwing him out?

Brett snapped out of his horrible thoughts when he saw a soldier get to the end of his aisle. His heart stopped beating and he was too afraid to even glance at him. The soldier hastily looked around the corner, scanning the area with his eyes. Brett started to think his final thoughts when the soldier looked right at him, making eye contact. He moved in closer to get a better look, the pair's faces couldn't have been more than a foot apart. Brett wanted to scream, but the sound just physically wouldn't come out. However, instead of shouting more military jargon to his walkie-talkie and shooting him in the stomach, the soldier simply wiped his eyes under his clear visor and walked away, yelling something to the other guards. Brett heard them all march out and he felt the greatest sigh of relief in his entire life. What even happened?

He pushed himself off of the freezer's side and noticing something odd. He couldn't see himself. It was like he was watching the world through a floating camera's lens, not his own eyes. He could still feel his body, he just couldn't see it. But when he moved, the air seemed to shimmer where his body was supposed to be. After another dozen seconds or so, his body slowly started to fade back into existence, he looked at his arms, which were no longer blue or invisible, but a metallic grey. In fact, the exact same shade and tone of the side of the freezer. Brett pressed his hand up against the side to make sure.

After spending a few minutes making sure he was alone in the room for good, Brett's skin started to fade from grey to blue. So, he could camouflage himself to the point of invisibility. What other powers did this change give him? But that didn't matter then, what mattered was getting out while there were guards patrolling the hallways looking for him. He suddenly got the most cliched idea ever: he could climb through the air vents. That is, if there were any. But Brett was in luck, as there was a grate right above one of the freezers in the middle of the room. Brett walked over to it and hoisted himself on top of it, giving him enough room to squat down between the top of it and the ceiling. Seeing as he had some sort of enhanced strength, he ripped the grate off with very little effort and climbed in.

Die Hard made it look easy. The vent was hot, dark, and most importantly, cramped. Brett's fins didn't help with the narrow space either, but at least his new eyes gave him some primitive night vision. He slithered through the vents, having no idea where he was going. He occasionally climbed over a grate, but every time it was either above soldiers in a hallway, an empty hospital room, or another supply room. The winding turns didn't help either, it was very tough for Brett to make sure he wasn't getting lost.

Eventually, he climbed above a grate where through it, he could see a door with the words "EMERGENCY STAIRS" written on it. Brett didn't hear anything, so he decided to take his chances. He punched the grate clean off and slithered down, almost falling right on his face. Breaking the fall with his arms made a loud sound, but no one seemed to be patrolling that corridor. It was suspicious, but Brett couldn't be picky in a life-or-death situation.

He slowly opened the stair door, which made a loud, stomach-churning squeaking noise. He peeked down the winding staircases, and there wasn't anyone down there either. Brett fully walked into the room and let the door close behind him before quickly walking down the stairs. His bare, webbed feet made a pat, pat, pat sound each time he slapped them down on the next concrete stair.

After way too many flights of stairs, Brett was finally on the ground floor. He was got extremely ecstatic as he stared at the door ahead of him, labelled "LOBBY ENTRANCE." However, he was still as cautious and nervous as ever, one experience that close to death was too much for him already. He vigilantly and slowly opened the door, peeking his head out to check for guards. His heart skipped a couple beats when he saw the line of a dozen armored guards pointing their guns right at him, like they knew exactly where he would be.

Behind the line stood a tall, bespectacled man wearing a lab coat. His head was bald, but he had a thick, white beard. Standing right beside him was a small, pale, girl with long dark hair. She looked completely fearless and stared right into Brett's eyes, like she was examining his soul. The line of guards parted and the pair walked up in front of them.

"Don't be afraid, son," the scientist said, "come on in."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Now the story is getting somewhere. Sorry if this wasn't the most exciting chapter, but I needed to get it out of the way. Brett needs to escape from the facility somehow. This will be very important for the story to come. But trust me, the next chapter will answer a couple questions and be EXTREMELY action-packed.