Creep

Chapter Eight: Creep

The tiny sips Angus had taken from the vial were nothing compared to this. The remaining contents filled his mouth and seemed to expand. Feeling both hot and cold at once, it sent a sensation that was part burn and part tingle throughout his mouth, over his tongue, and down his throat. From there, he felt every inch of its journey deeper inside him. Instead of heading to his stomach, it roamed freely around his body, worming its way into every nook and cranny. It travelled through his veins and burrowed deep into his bones. Jolts of pain like lightning strikes shot through his jaw, his legs, his arms, and his heart. His head spun, but not in the way it did when he was in his cups. It spun literally, swivelling on his shoulders, ignoring everything that said this should be impossible.

Shouts and screams surrounded him, but the sounds were far away. They felt unimportant.

Angus's fists clenched and unclenched of their own accord. Once his head stopped spinning, he chanced a look at himself and gasped at what he saw. His fingers were covered in green scales and his nails had hardened into vile claws. At first, he thought about trying to hide them from any onlookers, but a more pressing issue nagged at his mind. What else had changed?

Stumbling, he moved over to the soldier Ivonor had dispatched and stared at his reflection in a pool of blood. For the most part, he still looked like himself and his face was free of the scales that plagued his hands. But his eyes looked different. It was impossible to see their colour in the bloody puddle, but they appeared lighter. Brighter.

"Okay, what else?" he muttered, the reflection of his teeth catching his eye as he spoke.

Those were not his teeth.

They couldn't be.

He paused and looked again. His tongue explored each and every one. There was no mistaking it; he had the teeth of a monster. Jagged and sharp, they put Pyggbe's gnashers to shame. So sharp they cut into his tongue, Angus could already imagine them plunging through warm flesh. Shaking his head in disgust, he tried to force the thought from his mind. This wasn't him. Or was it?

Not wanting to be observed, Angus glanced left and right, searching the faces of those around him, human and otherwise. Most were engaged in fighting and not looking in his direction, but he knew that could change in an instant. The chances of being seen doing what he planned to do were high... but did it matter? He was powerful now. Somehow he knew he was far more powerful than any of those around him. The thought pleased him. As he smiled, a tip from a particularly sharp tooth snagged against his lip. Hot blood ran down his chin. His tongue reached out to taste it. The flavour was good, but he knew the blood and flesh of another would taste better... perhaps even divine.

Wasting no more time, he leant over the soldier's corpse and bit into his neck. The meat was already starting to cool, but it was still the best thing Angus had ever tasted. In fact, he couldn't imagine anything else tasting as good as this. He doubted the Queen ate this well. Blood coated his tongue and ran down his throat. His new teeth tore through the man's flesh like it was nothing.

Angus took a few more delicious bites from the corpse before he became aware of the crowd forming around him. His wish to remain unobserved had not been granted.

They had all seen him.

An urge to flee flitted across his mind before vanishing forever. Fleeing was for the weak. Fleeing was something prey did and Angus was a hunter. In no time at all, he had found himself at the top of the food chain. Revealing as many teeth as possible, Angus smiled at his audience. Some gasped. Some screamed. Some ran. One even fainted. Angus could only imagine how he looked to these people. Blood covered his face and scales covered his hands... and who knew what else. He must have looked hideous. Part of him hoped they were all afraid. It was at that moment he realised just how much fear surrounded him. He could smell it.