let the monster rise

didn't i tell you not to go out, didn't i?

It seemed the operation had been successful. 

The tadpole awoke from his sedated state, the light from the medical devices practically glaring at him. He blinked a few times before sitting up to gaze out the window. He’d never laid his eyes on this outside world before- the images of trees and plants he’d drawn in his mind hadn’t looked nearly as beautiful as this reality. All these years he’d painted images of greens and golds when the names of nature hit his ears.

He could even feel himself begin to tear up a bit. The light was so gorgeous, and this world was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. He wiped his eyes before turning to look over at his father expectantly.

The tadpole was met with a cold, shocked stare. His father seemed…almost pale, as if there was something so negatively shocking about his son being able to gaze upon the world for the first time.

“…Father?” he whimpered in confusion.

The adult turned away as he heard the sorrow ring out in his son’s voice. Even the doctor began to look at him as if he were a beast, a complete monster.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I…really do not know how this happened. Please trust me on this, we’ll get your son feeling all better by next week.” the doctor nervously whispered.

The boy slid out of his chair uncomfortably. Something wasn’t right…it felt as if there was almost too much to see in this world. His father had described it as a narrow, two-sectioned feeling, but it felt like he could see through a million screens. When he placed his hands on his face, though, he felt two eyes, like he was told there should be.

As the medics and his father anxiously discussed, the tadpole tiptoed over to the counter. He fiddled with some of the doctor’s tools- among them were scalpels, magnifying glasses, and much more. He eventually came across what seemed like a mirror and carefully picked it up.

Staring into it, he saw an image of himself reflected back at him. His eyes were an appealing bright red, and his body periwinkle and teal-colored. He briefly smiled at himself before moving around to see how the mirror worked. 

“Ah, where’d Gyororo run off to? That lil rascal…” a rough voice asked. 

He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see his father slowly approaching. The tadpole stared at himself once more, but noticing something a bit odd this time.

His once normally sized ears seemed to have been…stretched out, and there was a slight protrusion near the end. Suddenly, the protrusions on both ends flashed wide open, revealing two bright red eyes. The boy yelped in shock before falling back on his now elongated tail, which glared at him with a similar eye attached.

As his father arrived, he was greeted with the sight of his son rolling and screeching on the floor.  He tugged at his ears and tail in fear, trying to remove the strange appendages, but to no avail. His father simply picked up the terrified child and swung him over his shoulder before dashing out of the building. 

“Gyororo…Gyororo, I’m so sorry. I really am…they said something went wrong. S-something happened with the donor’s eyes, a-and…”

The father stopped his sentence dead in his tracks when he noticed his son shooting daggers at him, his eyes filled with tears and his fists tightly balled. He gave off an aura of extreme anger and fear.

“No! Everyone’s gonna think I’m a freak, its not going to be okay! Don’t lie to me…they can’t fix this!” he yelled in a blinding rage.

As he turned around to ignore his father’s next words, a switch flipped in his mind.

I can just run away…I know how to survive out there. I can scare those enemies all off, and it will feel better than having to scare an ally away.

The last of his father’s sentence falling lightly on his ears gave him the signal. He made a panicked dash for it, his feet pressing deep into the pavement. Tears almost seemed to stream behind him as he carried on. Quickly glancing back, he only saw his father beginning to walk the opposite direction.