The Only

Chapter Three - Neima

Neima was awakened with an acute need to take a large gasp of air. Her head throbbed with the usual horrible ache that echoed through her body after a change. But this time it was much, much worse. She couldn't feel her legs, and her arms felt like they were asleep. Completely immobile. Completely numb.

Her back was cold. How did she get on the floor? And why did the room smell of something burnt?

Karl scooted away from her like a scared spider. Landing in the corner of the room, he stared at her wide-eyed and openmouthed.

She shut her eyes tightly. Maybe it was a dream? When she opened them, she and Alex would be back home safe and happy. But who was she kidding? She wasn't three-hundred-years-old anymore. Acting like a baby wasn't going to help. A human had seen her morph, and she had to handle it.

Neima opened her eyes and cleared her throat. "Please, don't be afraid."

"Afraid?" Karl adjusted his glasses on the end of his nose. "You think I'm afraid?" He laughed. "I just witnessed the single most fascinating, unexplainable-by-science phenomenon ever, and you think I'm afraid?" The doctor seemed almost giddy.

Neima tried to move her arms to no avail. As hard as she tried to move either one forward, her limbs just hung like dead weight. She winced. Residual shocks waved through her body.

"What the hell did you do to me?"

"You stopped breathing and were exhibiting systems of a heart attack." Karl stated, instantly reverting to his role as the stubborn clinician.

She glanced over to the sink. Cords from the paddles dangled over the edge, and a steady stream of smoke rose from the stainless steel.

"You used a defibrillator?" she groaned.

"I saved your life," he said matter-of-factly.

"All you did was speed up the process of the metamorphosis." With a heave, she dragged her way to the wall. "No wonder I feel like I've been run over by a bus. And I have been run over by a bus, so I know what I'm talking about."

Her leg had been completely crushed by that bus in Geneva. A painful injury, but like always, she healed.

Karl moved to clasp one of her arms and helped to pull her up and lean her against the wall.

Neima frowned. She never liked depending upon anyone outside of her circle.

"Thank you, but I'm fine." She lied. It was wrong of her to come across so self-assured, given the fact she had just caught fire.

"Really?" The baby doctor said haughtily, "Then get up and walk out of here."

She shook her head. "I can't. I'm always groggy after morphing. But I think because you pumped me full of volts it's taking me longer to recover. I can't move, let alone walk."

It was tough to admit, but she knew she couldn't walk just yet.

Karl expertly held her head and examined her. Neima had no strength to slap him away. She knew she looked completely different. How much? She had no idea. She glanced down at her hands. Her skin seemed to be on the olive side. Latina maybe?

It made perfect sense. The hospital's ER was crowded with a Hispanic family and many of the nurses and other personnel were also. Her morphing always mirrored the population she was around.

It was her one and only defense mechanism she carried with her throughout the millennia.

She jumped at the coldness of the stethoscope.

"Sorry."

No, he wasn't. Neima's scowl deepened. Of all the humans to change in front of, she had to pick a baby Vulgari – a simple ordinary human boy with a genius complex. She willed her shoulder to shrug, ignoring the painful ant-like fire pricks that immediately began to peck at her.