Creature of Unknown Origin
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behind the pureblooded supernaturals of the past but actually sequencing them and going through
the process of being granted permission for human trials, the study paid off.
It saved my mom, who went on to marry my dad and have me, the freak who could fully
transform. The freak who was a single representative of a one in five-thousand chance. A whole
.02% of the world’s population. That meant there was a small city’s worth of people out there like
me who could fully shift into creature form.
I’d never met one of them , never tried to for fear of still being the odd one out of an already
outcast group of anomalies. We, my parents and I, know they exist and that had become enough
for me. The knowledge was thanks to some review panel and their investigation, which ended up
discovering that the very same clinical trial that saved my mother’s life and the lives of millions
of others around the world was the reason behind my… ability.
Whatever they did caused a genetic mutation that didn’t seem to affect my mom, but she
passed it down to me. And that mutation had more dominant creature genes than our current DNA
held.
As a kid, I often wondered if they, the others, looked like me when they shapeshifted. Did
they have hellfire and bloodlust burning in their eyes? Or was it ste el and hunger, like a wolf’s?
Were they some monstrous hybrid like me? Or were they lucky enough to be a full-blooded
creature of old?
Those were answers I never got as I struggled not only socially because of who I was, but
also fought to control the mons ter I came to see myself as. That’s where my former adolescent
therapist and her tiny blue-inked handwriting that judged me came in. My new therapist, Dr.
Harper, was a lot nicer and easier to work with now that I’d grown as a patient and in age, and
came to trust her over my old therapist, the one with the damning handwriting and secretive file.
I’d been seeing her for a long time now, probably too long some might say, but I value her as a
friend. I wouldn’t be who I am today without her help or be able to live my life as I do.
By the time I was done with my tale, and the initial jolt of disbelief toward the existence
of other worlds and dimensions, Spencer was too shell- shocked to tell me his share. It’s part of the
reason why I still laid awake from our middle of the night rendezvous.
It was ultimately my decision to stay here that kept me awake, and the sole reason why I
ended my reflection of everything I’d told Spencer by springing out of bed and sneaking out of the
bedroom window so as not to wake him again.
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