Nightshift 36: Kitchen
[From here.]
Getting slammed into a sturdy door had been enough to knock his thoughts about. Adding in the subsequent fall, however, caused Ken to literally see stars. He may have leaped a little too magnificently that time.
Several minutes passed before his bearings returned to the boy, who then pushed himself off against the tile and onto his knees. A hand clumsily groped around for his belongings (unlike the dimly lit cafeteria, this new area was pitch black) until his fingers brushed against a cool iron shaft. Good, he hadn't managed to lose the spear. That fact was amazing, considering the force of his entrance. All that practice of weapon holding prior to his “institutionalization” had paid off.
In any case, Ken had made it through to the kitchen, intact and armed. He was without light, but that could be remedied. The child hastily ran his hand down the weapon until it bumped across a mix of fabric and plastic: his flashlight and pillowcase. Earlier, he’d tied the device to the shaft using the pillowcase, knowing full well both hands would be occupied during his travel. The foresight had been wise; Ken would do well to remember this trick in the future.
His hand finally found the switch. Click. The flashlight’s beam hit the opposing wall, exposing three additional doors, two of them leading to his coveted pantries.
That, however, was not all it revealed. In front of his eyes, around where his nose and mouth should have been, stuck out an obtrusive blue...something. Ken could not describe it in any other words; he hadn’t a clue on its identity, not to mention why it was on his face. What the--?
Horrified, he brought up both hands to the object for inspection, only to discover they, too, were different from the norm: green, webbed fingers-- Could one even call these fingers? The child began patting himself down, under his arms, his legs, his head, anywhere one would expect to find human features. Instead, he found quite the opposite. No human was supposed to have a reptilian shell stuck to their back and a crown fused to their head, Ken was certain. And he recalled the floor being further away than what sight revealed.
Realization hit. That woman-- That light-- The “boy” collapsed onto the floor in shock, something hot and wet starting to blur his vision. She’d turned him. He wasn’t sure what, but that was hardly the issue! Ken was no longer Ken, just something short and green and more importantly, unrecognizable.
He pressed his new palms over his eyes and choked back a sob as a mix of dread and panic settled in. No one had ever changed him into a monster before, not the Shadows, not the Personas, not his senpai nor those bastards from Strega. Aside from transmogrification, people in his world were expected to remain as people. Not whatever he was now. This new development was possibly the worst thing to ever happen to Ken, and there was nothing he could do to alleviate the situation.
Nothing except cry. He was eleven, after all.
Getting slammed into a sturdy door had been enough to knock his thoughts about. Adding in the subsequent fall, however, caused Ken to literally see stars. He may have leaped a little too magnificently that time.
Several minutes passed before his bearings returned to the boy, who then pushed himself off against the tile and onto his knees. A hand clumsily groped around for his belongings (unlike the dimly lit cafeteria, this new area was pitch black) until his fingers brushed against a cool iron shaft. Good, he hadn't managed to lose the spear. That fact was amazing, considering the force of his entrance. All that practice of weapon holding prior to his “institutionalization” had paid off.
In any case, Ken had made it through to the kitchen, intact and armed. He was without light, but that could be remedied. The child hastily ran his hand down the weapon until it bumped across a mix of fabric and plastic: his flashlight and pillowcase. Earlier, he’d tied the device to the shaft using the pillowcase, knowing full well both hands would be occupied during his travel. The foresight had been wise; Ken would do well to remember this trick in the future.
His hand finally found the switch. Click. The flashlight’s beam hit the opposing wall, exposing three additional doors, two of them leading to his coveted pantries.
That, however, was not all it revealed. In front of his eyes, around where his nose and mouth should have been, stuck out an obtrusive blue...something. Ken could not describe it in any other words; he hadn’t a clue on its identity, not to mention why it was on his face. What the--?
Horrified, he brought up both hands to the object for inspection, only to discover they, too, were different from the norm: green, webbed fingers-- Could one even call these fingers? The child began patting himself down, under his arms, his legs, his head, anywhere one would expect to find human features. Instead, he found quite the opposite. No human was supposed to have a reptilian shell stuck to their back and a crown fused to their head, Ken was certain. And he recalled the floor being further away than what sight revealed.
Realization hit. That woman-- That light-- The “boy” collapsed onto the floor in shock, something hot and wet starting to blur his vision. She’d turned him. He wasn’t sure what, but that was hardly the issue! Ken was no longer Ken, just something short and green and more importantly, unrecognizable.
He pressed his new palms over his eyes and choked back a sob as a mix of dread and panic settled in. No one had ever changed him into a monster before, not the Shadows, not the Personas, not his senpai nor those bastards from Strega. Aside from transmogrification, people in his world were expected to remain as people. Not whatever he was now. This new development was possibly the worst thing to ever happen to Ken, and there was nothing he could do to alleviate the situation.
Nothing except cry. He was eleven, after all.