I needed to go. I needed to leave. Nobody wanted me. Nobody wanted me because I was different. When it started I could feel it wash over me. Like the kick of a drug, like a switch had been turned on inside me for the first time. People were screaming, but I paid no attention. I had to run. I ran faster than ever before. After then I'll ever run again. When I made it to the woods I stopped. It was sun down. I cursed under my breath. Now the "dangers" will start crawling out. I had to either find shelter or climb up a tree, or I was just the walking dead. Everyone called them "dangers". That's not heir real names. Their real name is The Scratchers. This is because when dangers go out at night and find junkies roaming alone on the streets or homeless men and women, all that is left of them the next morning is a malled heap of flesh.

The gifted will not be ignored. They will rise. They will conquer