Felix Fischer was slumped against the damp, grimy wall of an alleyway, his mind was racing as he thought to himself,
"I'm so screwed. What's my luck that this, of all things, had to happen on top of everything else in my oh so great life?"
As he thought this, he ran his hand up his forehead until he felt a hard bump forming on his head near his hairline.
"Fuck… why did the horn have to show itself on me? Isn't my life already hard?"
he said with a sneer. The bump was a clear symptom indicating that he was changing into a Demonkin; this bump was the first step of the process, referred to as "the budding." Demonkin were people whose bodies had changed since the rifts appeared and monsters flooded out. It was also a clear indication that he would be forced into the rift and sent to that horrid place by the government, where he would probably die a horrible, gruesome death.
He scoffed and then pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket, along with a lighter engraved with an image of a hooded figure holding their hands over a lit candle, shielding it from the wind. As Felix was about to put the cigarette to his lips, he looked at the lighter. This was the memento from his late grandfather that he had received just moments before his passing. Felix shook his head and put the cigarette away.
"You really were the last person who cared, huh?"
A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and then he sighed.
"I should head home."
He dreaded the idea of going back to see his so-called parents and brother. Another sigh escaped him; he would have to hope that they wouldn't tell anyone about his budding or find out at all.
Felix put his hood on and stepped out of the dark alleyway. He raised an arm to cover his eyes from the sudden shine of the city. It was as busy as always, with people bustling about, cars honking, and street vendors calling out to passersby's. A screened ad caught his attention; it was advertising the news, listing how many Demonkin had been found since the first budding and how the number of Demonkin seemed to be increasing in kids from sixteen to eighteen. "Plus one," he thought with a chuckle, before continuing on to the tram station.
Now, standing in front of his house, he tried to think of any reason not to go in, but he knew he had to face it. He opened the door and was greeted by disinterested stares from his so-called parents, Maya and Harold. "I'm home," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. They both ignored him, returning to their respective activities with a practiced indifference that stung more than he cared to admit.
He made his way to his room, where he found his brother, Erwin, sleeping on his bed on his side of the room, snoring like a bear. He was tall and kinda fat, covered in crumbs and looked like he had spilled some sort of sauce on himself. "Slob," Felix scoffed as he proceeded to the bathroom. Felix didn't absolutely hate his brother; he just felt that Erwin didn't deserve the way he was treated, and Felix deserved better—though he didn't think that very often anymore.
Felix closed the door behind him, took off his coat and shirt, and splashed some water from the sink onto his face. He looked up at his reflection. Felix had dark brown hair, almost black, and deep blue eyes. He was also rather gaunt; he didn't eat much, or at least he wasn't allowed to. As he examined his reflection, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was fading away in more ways than one, just another puppet in the bustling city outside.
Fresh from his shower, Felix prepared for bed, ensuring to pull a beanie snugly over his head. Just then, his brother Erwin clasped a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, can you spot me twenty bucks?"
he asked, a casual tone masking his intent.
Felix's irritation flared immediately.
"Seriously? I gave you twenty last week!"
His voice edged with annoyance, a familiar frustration bubbling to the surface. Erwin always played this game, knowing that their parents would invariably side with him, allowing him to manipulate situations to his advantage. But tonight, Felix was too exhausted to engage.
"No, Erwin, I'm going to bed,"
he replied, the hint of exasperation unmistakable.
Erwin, not pleased with Felix's refusal, reacted impulsively, landing a punch to Felix's stomach. The sudden impact sent Felix sprawling to the floor, gasping for breath. Coughing and struggling to regain his composure, he felt the wind knocked out of him. A victorious grin spread across Erwin's face as he reached down, intending to yank Felix aside. Instead, he inadvertently tugged off Felix's beanie, exposing the horn that was just beginning to emerge from his brother's head.
In that intense moment, the first thought that flashed through Felix's mind was,
"Shit, I thought I'd have more time to live relatively normally."
As this realization settled in, he noticed his brother standing there, a mixture of surprise and fear etched across his face as he stared wide-eyed at the budding horn on Felix's head. Suddenly, Erwin's voice broke through the tension, trembling as he shouted,
"Mom! Dad!"
He bolted toward the bedroom door, nearly tripping over a pile of dirty clothes in his haste.
Felix couldn't help but grin at his brother's reaction, thinking,
"What a look! I wonder if he pissed himself."
A snicker escaped his lips. It was understandable, really; the news was always filled with stories about people developing horns, often portraying them as no different from the monsters that emerged from the rifts. This portrayal was often misleading because the real reason behind these misconceptions was that Demonkin could wield a variety of mysterious powers, ranging from manipulating shadows to bending light, or even harnessing the elements in ways that defied logic or even more amazing things. However, in addition to these extraordinary abilities, a voice would begin to whisper in the back of your mind, growing louder the more power you possessed. If you couldn't learn to manage it, those whispers could twist into haunting hallucinations, driving you to madness and ultimately transforming you into a monster—a true demon.
While Felix sat in the dim light, lost in troubling thoughts about how he might soon transform into a monster, he let out a heavy sigh. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed ominously, drawing closer and interrupting his spiraling contemplation. He glanced toward the door, and his heart sank as he saw his parents standing there. Their expressions were twisted with disdain as they beheld the alarming sight of his budding horn. His mother, Maya, leaned in to whisper something to his father, their furtive exchange sending a chill through him.
Felix despised the look in their eyes—he always had. They regarded him as if he were nothing more than a mere inconvenience, a fly buzzing aimlessly against the walls of their lives. Now, their gazes were filled with revulsion, as if he had just landed in their carefully prepared meal, disrupting their mundane existence. It stung deeply, this realization that he was not only unwanted but also a source of embarrassment.
If there was one thing he could cling to with a flicker of gratitude, it was the thought that he would soon be rid of this awful family. Yet, that thought was a double-edged sword; he knew he would be trading the familiar discomfort of their disdain for the unknown horrors of a world far worse than his own home—a world where nightmares lurked, and survival was uncertain.
His father spoke up, urgency lacing his voice,
"How long has it been?"
"About a week,"
Felix replied, his heart sinking as he spoke.
"We will have to call this in,"
Harold sighed, a deep weariness in his tone as he pulled out his phone and dialed the emergency line. Within minutes, a team of soldiers arrived outside, their heavy boots thudding against the pavement as they instructed him to come out slowly with his hands raised above his head.
Felix stood frozen for a moment, glancing at his parents, desperately hoping to see even a flicker of concern for his well-being. Instead, he was met with expressions of irritation and impatience, their annoyance starkly evident as they clearly wished for this ordeal to be over.
Frustration bubbled inside him, and he scoffed, brushing past them with a sense of finality.
"Fine, have it your way. I'm done with this. I really am not a part of this family anymore, and that's perfectly fine with me,"
he thought bitterly.
Taking a deep breath, Felix approached the door and opened it, the blinding headlights of the armored vehicles nearly overwhelming him. The stark outlines of soldiers loomed before him, guns pointed in his direction, a chilling reminder of the gravity of his situation.
With his hands instinctively raising to the back of his head, he turned around, backing away slowly towards the soldiers, his mind racing with a single, resolute thought:
"I will survive, no matter what I have to do."