Shifter's Journeys, Book One: the Scar, the Sword, and the Saga

My Head Explodes

~February 8, ten years later...~

Screaming. Someone's screaming. A scream filled with fear. The pluck of a string. The flight of a feathered stick. The sound of skin puncturing. The smell of blood. The scene of a body falling onto the ground. The feeling of movement. The smell of smoke. The bright colors of red and orange. A symbol of a fox's face... hovering, spinning, slowly, increasingly, glowing white. Suddenly, the fox explodes with light. BOOM!

I wake up gasping, my pillow wet from perspiration. You're okay, Shifter. It was only The Nightmare... Though you'd think you'd get used to it after having it for two years every, fricking, night. I glance at my left hand. The same symbol from my dream is a scar on my hand. I've had it my whole life, unlike the nightmare, which I'd started dreaming when I turned eight. I inspect my scar, seeing if there's any changes. It's triangular eyes peer up at me, and its whiskers seem to twitch with my breathing. Its ears, so delicate and long, seem to be listening for the slightest threat.

Exhausted, I flump back onto my pillow and cover myself with my blanket. A few minutes later, my brother's, Brody's, blue eyes are peering into my face and his snout is practically touching my nose. "RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPYHEAD!" he yells, jolting my awake for a second. I glare at him and roll over, facing away.

"Shifter, up-and-at'-em'. Come on, wake up," Brody tells me, a little quieter this time.

"Mmf," I reply (I'm not a morning person, especially after The Nightmare).

"Mom says you have to get up now." Brody nudges his wet, cold nose against my bare foot.

I wince. "Fivemoreminutes..." I mumble back to him.

"You said "fivemoreminutes" ten minutes ago!" Brody exclaims. I make an unintelligible response and bury my face into my nest.

"All right, that does it," Brody states and he yanks my blanket off with his teeth. I flinch when the cold air outside my blanket hits me. "Brrr! It's cold!" I exclaim.

"I warned you... besides, if you do that weird changing thing into a fox, you won't be so cold," Brody replies, unsympathetically.

"Hmph," I grumble. I focus on Brody's shape to help me focus. It's handy having a fox for a brother. My body starts changing. Long whiskers start forming from my face, a snout replaces my nose, those long, sensitive ears that foxes have replace my own, and my body becomes smaller, longer, and furry. I greet Brody, no longer as a boy, but as a fox. My nose, now way better than my normal one, allows me to scent everything much clearer. Brody's scent is the first to reach my snout.

"Man, I'll never get sick of that," Brody remarks.

"You won't get sick of what?" I ask, a little snapish.

"The weird way you can turn into a fox," he answers.

"It's not that cool, Brody."

"Whatever, I think it's cool... You know, you're a very big grump in the mornings," he observes.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get much sleep last night, and someone shattered the last shreds of my sleepiness. So yeah, I'm grumpy. You'd be too if you kept having my nightmare," I reply.

Brody gives me a sympathetic look. "You're still having those?"

"Hello! Where have you been every night I wake up gasping?!"

"That was you?? Jeez... Does it have something to do with your scar?" he asks, tilting his head towards my front-left paw.

I glance down at my paw. Like it was branded, the scar is clearly visible on my fur, it doesn't matter if I'm a boy or a fox. "I wish I knew," I mumble, bitterly, "Then maybe these nightmares will go away."