Born of Fire: The Dawn of Legend

By Dreagen Grim and Joanne Asala

A young man named Rex awakens to find himself lost in a strange and beautiful world called EeNara; a breathtaking and wondrous place, filled with sentient dinosaurs and a race of humanoid creatures called SaVarians. All of which possess a living flame: the physical manifestation of the cosmic forces that gave birth to and bind the universe toget

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grim Thrall
• Release date: Feb 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869166821

Book preview

1

Prologue

Ahunter’s moon, tainted red by the unnatural crimson hue of the night sky, hung ominously over a silent world below. Despite the stillness of all, the air carried with it a breath of anticipation.

A figure wearing a dark cloak ran through the deserted streets, holding a small bundle wrapped in a pale blanket. Moving in absolute silence, the figure glided through the shadows before finally stopping in an alley. Pulling back the hood, the figure revealed herself to be a beautiful woman with fair skin, long flowing auburn hair, pointed ears, and beautiful green eyes that seemed to glow like two emerald candles in the gloom. Peering down at the tiny bundle in her arms, she gently pulled some of the fabric aside to reveal the face of a baby with eyes that burned like two radiant pools of crimson light. Pulling the blanket down further, she ran a finger down a small incision on his chest. She smiled down lovingly before once again covering his face and continuing through the darkened streets.

Suddenly a ring of red light flashed in the sky above, illuminating the world below in a crimson glow. Stumbling to a halt, she breathed heavily, and shut her eyes, while clutching the baby close to her chest.   Then suddenly, there came a piercing cry that tore through the night. No! she gasped as her eyes shot open, and she took off at a full run. She knew she and the child were no longer alone, that she had been followed. Both their lives hung in the balance, but only his mattered. She could not let them get him; she would never let them get him. She would put herself between him and the world if it meant keeping him safe.

She continued down the street until she came to a large stone building. With a quizzical expression, she studied the tall pillars that lined the enormous entrance in which words of a language alien to her were, were etched in stone. She did not have long to hesitate, for another dissonant cry rang out over a low guttural roar, echoing through the night sky and forcing her to look back in terror. Drawing the child in close, she ran up the steps two at a time until she reached two large doors at the top, only to find them locked. Frustrated and panicked, she gritted her teeth, revealing an elongated set of upper and lower incisors, and ripped the door completely free of its hinges.

Without hesitation or sparing a second look at what approached from behind, she ran inside. Rounding several corners before skidding to a stop in a large room, lit from above only by moonlight and several small lights in the far corners. She walked through, slowly and quietly, looking around in shock and confusion. Dark silhouettes with huge teeth and claws surrounded her. She knew what they were but not why they were here like this. Regardless, she did not have time to give any of it much thought. Only one thing mattered now. Moving to the far end of the room she placed the child down gently. There was another loud cry, this time near the entrance of the building. Slowly she unwrapped the child and placed him beneath the silhouette of a large skeletal beast, which she gazed up at before looking back down at the small squirming form.

I love you, she said and kissed him on the forehead, then stood up and faced the way she had come. With the glow in her eyes brightening, she parted her long cloak, revealing a strong, muscular figure. She gave one final look at the baby before retracing her steps.

As she ran back outside, she saw the outline of three enormous beasts standing at the base of the steps, their armor-clad hides revealed only slightly in pale flashes of heat lightning. Her heart raced as the blood in her veins burned like fire. She knew who they were, just as she had known this might be a one-way trip, but she was prepared for such a fate. Her sacrifice would mean the boy would have a chance. As the three dark figures stalked forward with heavy footfalls, she unleashed an unearthly cry. Her eyes burned with beautiful emerald fire, as did her entire body. The shadowy behemoths stopped dead in their tracks, letting out deep, savage growls before moving forward once more. Bounding up the steps and surrounding her. Pulling from her cloak a glowing red stone, the woman held it high above her head and crushed it in the palm of her hand. There was a flash of light and a deafening roar as all the glass in the front entrance of the building exploded outward.

Philippe Dho was the security guard on duty that night at the Natural History Museum, and he had just been pouring himself a cup of coffee when he heard the cacophonous blast that rocked the museum down to its foundations. What the hell? he exclaimed as he dropped his cup and spilled coffee all over the floor.

He ran out of the break room towards the front entrance, where he found a sight to behold. The entire front entrance was gone, and burning debris and rubble were scattered about as if a bomb had gone off. The air was filled with a burnt, acrid smell, forcing him to cover his mouth with his sleeve. Cautiously, he walked through the rubble and looked out into the street. There he saw a sixty-meter diameter spread of scorched Earth, still smoldering.

What the hell happened out here? he asked in a hushed tone. Preparing to place his foot down on the first step, his attention was pulled back inside by a sound coming from deep within the museum. He jumped in surprise as he turned and strained to hear it again, but to no avail. He hurried back inside and flipped the switches to turn the main lights back on, but found that they would not work. Damn it, he cursed under his breath as he reached down to grab his flashlight. The blast…or whatever it was, he thought to himself, must have knocked out the power.

The interior of the museum felt like a dark and haunting tomb filled with dead relics. With the exception of a few emergency lights, it was completely black, a den of shadows. Philippe turned on his light and shone it forward. Slowly he walked back inside, scanning the light over the floors, walls, and ceiling. Wha—! he blurted out in surprise as he heard the sound again. Casting the beam of his light in every direction, he was still unable to discover the source of the curious sound echoing in gloom of the great marble hall. Then it came again, and Philippe spun around once more. What should I do? The blast would have certainly triggered the silent alarm, meaning the police would be here soon. Maybe he should let them handle this. After all, he was just a security guard. A really underpaid one.

After several more minutes of indecision, he mustered up the courage and headed in the direction of where he believed to have heard the sound originate. He kept his flashlight pointing forward for the most part but would occasionally shine it off to the sides to make sure he was alone. He wiped drops of sweat from his brow as the knot in his stomach grew tighter. It was times like this he wished he had been issued a gun. He turned a corner and stood before what looked to be a large black abyss, but in reality was just the entrance to the museum’s largest exhibition hall. With only the moon and the eerie red light shining in from the skylights, it was entombed in darkness. Then, he heard the sound again. This time it was close…and clear. It was the unmistakable cry of a baby. He rushed into the darkness, shining his light straight ahead. The baby was crying continuously now, leading him right to it. Philippe came to a large platform that was lit just enough for him to tell it was there.

He placed his flashlight on top of it and pulled himself up. Then, grabbing it again, he instantly began shining over the platform. The baby let out a cry louder than before, prompting him to turn his light toward him. Oh, my God! Philippe exclaimed as he hurried over to where the baby was laying. Where did you come from?

The baby stopped crying at the sight of Philippe and looked up at him with his big scarlet eyes. Philippe knelt down beside him and shone his light over the baby to see if he was hurt, and something in the baby’s eyes caught his attention. He leaned in close with his light off to the side and saw what looked like slow-moving light…no…fire in the child's eyes. Leaning in closer, he watched it suddenly flicker and burn out until only two dull, maroon eyes stared back up at him. Looking the baby over carefully, he spotted an unusual scar on his chest about five centimeters long. Furrowing his brow in confusion, Philippe moved his light a little past the child now and on to what he was laying in. It was an impression in concrete meant to look like natural stone filled with artificial vegetation. Suddenly there was a loud burst of roaring thunder, and a massive bolt of lightning momentarily lit the entire hall, revealing the baby lying in a nest surrounded by the skeletons of a family of tyrannosaurus rex. The flash also illuminated all the other prehistoric beasts that filled the great hall—the hall of dinosaurs.

Philippe looked back down, noticeably shaken, and picked the baby up.

Who are you? he asked as he gazed into the eyes of a boy whose life had been saved by another sacrificing hers in a final act of love.

2

Something Worse

Fifteen Years Later

 V ast was the void that stretched in every direction, with only a ghostly red mist to disrupt the dark gloom that pervade throughout it. From the shadows, a small, indistinct form moved through the emptiness, silent as death. As it made its way awkwardly forward, it suddenly froze at the sound of a distant impact. It looked around frantically, trying to locate the source of the tremor, just as it came again, this time stronger and closer. The figure’s movements became more erratic as the thunderous sound drew nearer. Soon it was unmistakable; they were footsteps, but of what? The lone figure looked in every direction but saw no sign of anything else living other than itself. Then it came, a low rumbling growl that made the ground tremble beneath their feet. It had come from behind; slowly the figure turned, and from high above in the darkened gloom emerged two fiery crimson eyes…

 Two red eyes shot open in bed and were instantly greeted by the early morning light that streamed in from between the curtains. The room was silent and still. The dim light hinted at the shapes of dinosaur models in all corners of the room. Framed pictures of the great beasts adorned the walls and even the ceiling. In the far-left corner of the room was a small bed. In it lay a teenage boy, his red eyes forced open and unblinking. Slowly he sat up, rubbing them as the remnant of the nightmare slipped away. He stretched his stiff joints and yawned, revealing large, sharp teeth. He rubbed his eyes again, and heard a voice call his name from outside the door.

Rex, you up yet?

Quickly dropping back down, he threw the covers over himself, and pretended to still be asleep. His bedroom door opened, and in stepped Philippe, who after looking over at the huddled mass under the covers was not about to be fooled even for a moment.

Come on, boy, time to get ready for school, he said. Now. Rex remained motionless under the covers. Rex, I know you’re awake, Philippe said, placing his hands on his hips disapprovingly. Time to get ready.

Realizing that his father had seen through his ruse, Rex decided to try a different approach. Coughing hoarsely into his pillow, he spoke in a low, raspy voice, I don't feel very good.  I... I think I've got strep.

You don't say, Philippe replied dryly, knowing full well he was being played for a fool. I guess you'll be wanting to stay home then. Rex grinned mischievously under the blanket. Philippe, however, was no fool. He had learned all of Rex’s tricks over the years, and as usual was ready to beat him at his own game. It was his move. You stay here, he said suddenly with forced concern in his voice. I just need to call work and let them know that I won’t be coming in today. That should get him; he must think I’m stupid if he thinks I’m just going to leave him here by himself so he can read and watch movies all day.

Rex, not one to be defeated so easily, countered. No…Dad, please, he said, straining his voice further. Don’t miss work…because of me. I’d feel…terrible if…you couldn’t…make rent this month…because of me. Take that, old man!

Unbeknownst to Rex, Philippe was rolling his eyes, while quickly losing interest in this little back and forth.

Rex had to force himself not to laugh, as he was sure he had given a convincing performance. Already he was envisioning how he would spend his day at home in the comfort of his bed while catching up some reading, when his father's exclaim of surprise, interrupted his thoughts.

Esley! Rex heard him shout. Where are you going with Rex's bike?

Moving on pure instinct like an ambush predator pouncing from its blind, Rex tore off the blanket and leaped out of bed. Large, powerful muscles flexed under deep tan skin as he propelled his body forward with furious intensity, and cleared the distance between the bed and the window in two quick strides. Ripping open the blinds Rex peered outside, and saw absolutely no one. Glancing to his right he saw his bicycle safe and secure with the lock still fastened to the chain. It was the familiar sound of his father’s laughing however, that made him scowl.

Nice try as always, Philippe said as he tried to regain his composure, but still found it difficult to stop laughing. But you forget you already tried strep last month. Still, the whole coughing bit this time around was a nice touch. Anyway, wash up and come eat breakfast. Philippe slapped him on the back and walked out of the room, humming to himself.

Rex sighed, looked outside at the rising sun, and said sardonically, Another glorious morning.

Fifteen minutes later, Rex walked into the kitchen and sat down at the counter, where his father had just finished cooking breakfast. For the most part, Philippe had maintained his strong outward physical appearance. Just four years ago, he had bid farewell to a full head of hair, and he now kept it completely shaved. His stern face was deceptive in that it always hid his warm and friendly demeanor. He and his late wife had always wanted children, but, sadly, she had been unable to have any, which regrettably had always left a lingering hole within him. They had met when she was in the navy and her ship had pulled into port in Nice, France, where she stole the heart of the tall and lanky twenty-two-year-old Frenchman. They were married one year later, and came to America when she was transferred to California. When she died of cancer seventeen years ago, he thought he would spend the rest of his days alone. Then came that bizarre and terrifying night at the museum. He remembered it like it was just yesterday. There he was, working night security at the museum, when his world was turned upside down and rocked from its foundation. Before he even knew what had happened, there he was, standing in the great hall of dinosaurs, holding a baby in his arms. Philippe knew he should have given him up, but holding him in his arms that night gave him a taste of the life he and his late wife had always wanted. He knew she would have wanted him to keep the boy and raise him as his own, and so when no official record or next of kin could be found, Philippe was awarded full custody.

The next logical step was to give the child a name. Philippe decided to call him Rex because he found him in the nest of the museum’s tyrannosaurus rex display. A strange choice, perhaps, but then again, everything surrounding their meeting was unusual. Besides, the boy’s name was the last thing people found strange when they met him, or even just looked at him. He had a large, muscular stature for a boy his age, standing nearly two meters and weighing around 113 kilos, but the things that caught everyone off guard were his teeth, claws, ears, hair, and eyes, which were sharp, black, pointed, silver, and red, respectively. Philippe had taken him to numerous doctors who specialized in congenital defects, but none of them could find anything actually wrong with Rex. They were, however, quick to point out several other peculiar traits. His bones seemed to be stronger and denser than those of a normal person, while his hair was more like fur commonly associated with animals. As for its color, no one could determine how anyone could have been born with such follicle pigmentation. But that was the case with all his other unusual features.

One other abnormality had turned up in his tests: a small fragment of something was embedded deep inside his chest. Unable to determine what it was, the doctors could only discern it was not causing Rex any harm, and so Philippe decided not to put his son through the rigors of surgery and let it be.

In the beginning, he would have his son wear a hat to tuck the tips of his ear in, but after Rex turned seven, he protested that it was hurting them, and so Philippe conceded to let him go out with them fully exposed, leading many to believe he was wearing some sort of prosthesis. His claws were thick and black, and his teeth sharp and thinly serrated, giving people a good fright upon seeing them for the first time. Because of this, Rex refrained from smiling and rarely opened his mouth wide when speaking, resulting in him mumbling most of the time. As for his unusual coif, the doctors told him that it was probably the result of some rare and highly randomized mutation. All humans have the genes to grow fur, they had explained, but they were usually turned off, so his case was rare but not impossible—in theory. As for its color, it too was likely the result of some unusual and inexplicable mutation. Lastly, there were his eyes, which were entirely red with only a faint outline of an iris. They almost glowed under certain light. Rex was a unique-looking young man, to be sure.

Breakfast is served, my good man, Philippe said as he put down a plate of eggs, toast, and pancakes in front of him.

I thought you said I can only eat this stuff on the weekends, Rex replied in surprise. At the recommendation of a nutritionist his father had taken him to when he was younger, he usually ate a big plate of egg whites to accommodate his body’s need for a massive amount of protein.

Well, his father replied as he poured him a glass of skim milk, I figured since you clearly put a lot of time and effort into this morning’s performance, it’s only fair that you are rewarded for all your hard work.

Rex knew his father was lying, of course, and was only saying that to make him feel better. After all, how could Philippe not know the real reason why he did not want to go to school anymore? His teachers had been calling his father more frequently as of late.

Your biology teacher called me at work yesterday, Philippe said, as if on cue. Rex did not respond and just ate quietly, hoping his father would drop it. She says you’ve been eating your lunch in the library. You want to tell me why you don’t want to eat with your friends?

I don’t have any friends, Rex replied dryly without looking up.

Oh, come on now. You know that’s not true. You’ve got plenty of them, like Aaron. Rex shook his head silently. No? Okay, what about Brandon? Again, Rex just shook his head. Zack, Desiree, Manuel, DJ? Rex just shook his head to all of them as he ate a piece of toast. Rex, his father asked worriedly, What happened, son? Come on, you know you can always talk to me.

I cut them loose.

Cut them loose? What exactly does that mean?

Just what it sounds like, he replied as he devoured the last piece of toast and moved on to the eggs.

Hey, Philippe replied as he put a hand on his shoulder. What’s going on, son? Talk to me.

You would have to ask them. All I know is that they just up and decided that the mystique of having the class freak in their merry little band had lost its appeal.

Philippe was always pleasantly surprised by how well spoken Rex was. Rex had learned to speak and read at an early age. While other children were outside playing, he would be in his room with his face buried in books, most of them on various scientific fields of study. His favorites were always on paleontology, in particular those that dealt with his greatest love: dinosaurs. From about the age of seven, he could hold a conversation on equal footing with any adult.

Is that why you eat your lunch in the library? Philippe asked.

Rex nodded and replied, It’s the only place I can get some peace and quiet at school.

Philippe sighed. They had been through this many times. Rex was a target for bullies or other children who just had a chip on their shoulder. He knew he was a good boy, and that he had once tried to fit in, but it seemed that it was always in vain. Now he no longer tried to make connections with anyone, choosing instead to distance himself from all those around him, except for his father, of course. Now Philippe was getting calls from school that matters were turning violent, with Rex lashing out without warning for something as seemingly trivial as an odd look in the hall. Philippe feared that Rex was losing his grip, that he was reaching the end of his ability to handle all those who refused to tolerate him—something that could prove disastrous, for Rex was far from defenseless. At fifteen years of age, Rex was already more than double the weight of his peers, built more like a weightlifter than a teenage boy, something that had also been a shock to his father, for as far as he knew, his son had never set foot in a gym. Tell you what, Philippe said. You go to school today. You eat lunch with all the other kids, and do your best to just ignore all those stupid people who don’t know what they’re missing by not being your friend. Rex raised his head slightly to look at his father. No matter where you go in life, son, there will always be people who don’t like you. Sure, their reasons may be different, and most of the time they won’t make any sense, but they’ll be there. So it’s pointless to get all stressed out about it.

It’s hard not to when they’re all around you, replied Rex, meeting his father’s eyes.

I know, but that’s why you have to focus on the people around you who do care about you.

That’s easy. There’s only one.

Philippe hugged his son and said, I know I may not be much, but I promise you that I’ll always be on your side. You’re my son, and I love you more than anything. Also, believe me when I say that one day your life will be filled with people who love you. You just need to be a little patient.

Rex sighed and nodded. Thanks, Dad, he said with a smile. I love you, too, but you don’t have to be so dramatic. It’s me, remember?  He bared a toothy grin.

That’s my boy, his father said, even though he knew Rex was just saying what he thought he wanted to hear to put his mind at ease. Still, such an act of kindness was a thing reserved only for him, so he did not take it for granted. Oh, yeah, the new dinosaur exhibit is finally all set up down at the museum.

You mean the new tyrannosaur skeleton? Rex asked with a sudden burst of excitement. They’re finally done putting it up?

Yup, Philippe replied, taking a sip of his coffee. The big unveiling isn’t until next Saturday, but I figured since you don’t have school tomorrow, that maybe I could pick you up and take you to the museum for a little sneak peek. What do you say?

Don’t be late picking me up, Rex replied with a broad smile.

His father laughed, and Rex ate as fast as he could. He was so excited about seeing the new exhibit that he had practically forgotten all about their earlier conversation. Moments later, he was putting on his shoes and heading down to the bus stop. Rex was a bit of an oddity in the neighborhood, as one could imagine. While many of the children treated him the same way they did at school, many of the adults regarded him with a certain degree of  apprehension, like sheepherders eyeing a wolf drawing too near to their flock.

King High School was crowded with children climbing off the buses that carted them to and from school every day. To Rex it had always looked like a meat wagon carrying cattle to and from a slaughter. He had sat alone on the way over, as he normally did, refusing to engage any idle chatter with the other teenagers. Even if he had wanted to interact with them in any way, it would just result in them giving him the odd glare and remaining silent until he retreated back to his solitude. Stepping off the bus, Rex proceeded to his classroom, pushing and shoving his way through the throngs of students crowding the hall. Reaching his biology classroom a short time later, he let out a heavy sigh, and walked in.

Good morning, Rex, said his teacher as she looked up from rearranging a set of books on one of the shelves in the far corner of the room. You’re always the first one here.

Rex just smiled and went to his seat, not really knowing what to say in response. What could he tell her, the truth? That would sound good, he thought. I rush to get here every morning, Mrs. Bolster, because I know if any one of those assholes out there get it in their heads to pick a fight with me, I’m going to take their heads and drill them into the fucking wall. Then, with a wry smile he mused, When did I get so cheery?

Thirty minutes later, the bell rang, and everyone still standing outside ran inside the classroom and took their seats. Mrs. Bolster started with roll call as she did every morning, followed by a quick review of the previous day’s lesson. Rex could already feel his mind wandering to more entertaining thoughts. School had always been difficult for him. He found it hard to concentrate, and when he did, much of the material never made sense to him. His father had asked the school to test him many times, and they always came back with some new term to describe what was supposedly wrong with him: ADD, ADHD, learning disabled, and so on. Rex could not help but feel that the school was more interested in labeling him than they were in actually teaching him. His father did his best to help him with his schoolwork at home, but his job often kept him away. It was not as if Rex was incapable of learning; he excelled at certain things, but he felt like his mind processed information it received differently than others. Unfortunately, he did not know how that was, and as a result, his education was a series of hits and misses.

Twenty minutes passed, and a girl stepped into the room and rushed to her desk. Her long golden hair, which reached to her lower back, gently brushed over Rex’s right arm as he caught a familiar fragrant smell. You’re late, Allison, said Mrs. Bolster in an irritated tone.

I’m sorry, Mrs. Bolster, Allison replied as she took out her textbook from her backpack and put in on her desk.

Do you have a note?

Allison shook her head nervously. The teacher sighed and simply said, See me at lunch, please.

Allison sat in front in the row off to the left of Rex, who found her beautiful and would often find himself unknowingly staring at her. Occasionally, she would turn her head, and he would quickly turn his so she would not catch him looking into her big blue eyes. As strange as it sounded even to him, Rex found himself almost hypnotized by her scent, which smelled of something he could not quite put his finger on. But it was there, drawing him in even though he dared not get too close. She was a good student, but every now and then she would show up late to class acting strangely. Normally, she would have a note from her father, but she had been coming in late at least three times a week now, and she never seemed to have an excuse.

As usual, Rex lost himself in his favorite class pastime, shyly admiring the pretty blonde. However, this time he noticed something that put him on edge. She turned her head slightly to the right, causing her hair to part and expose the back of her neck. That was when Rex saw it, a bruise. He wondered where it came from. Who would hit Allison? he thought to himself. She was so nice to everyone, even him. Come to think of it, she’s the only one nice to me. She moved her head again, and her hair covered the bruise back up.

Class dragged on for what seemed like forever, when finally the lunch bell rang and everyone headed to the cafeteria. Rex, remembering what his father had said, took another deep breath and headed to the cafeteria after everyone else had left, everyone except Allison, who walked up to Mrs. Bolster’s desk with her gaze averted to the floor. Rex walked outside the door but stood just out of sight and listened in.

Sit down, Allison, he heard his teacher say. You’ve been coming in late more and more lately.

I’m sorry, Mrs. Bolster, Allison said in a soft, frail voice. I promise to try to get here on time from now on.

Allison, Mrs. Bolster paused before continuing, choosing her words carefully. Is…everything okay at home? Rex leaned against the wall harder, as if it would allow him to see through it. Allison remained silent. It’s okay, you can talk to me.

Allison finally spoke up in a shaky voice, My…dad—

Rex, came a voice from behind him.

He turned to see Vice Principal Goran standing halfway down the hall, looking at him disapprovingly with his hands on his hips. He motioned for Rex to come over, who groaned and complied despite his legs telling him to move in the opposite direction. Goran was a tall, lanky man with a bald spot and a dark mustache. He was notorious among the students for being mean, condescending, and never making an effort to hide the fact that he hated young people.

Is there a reason why you’re just standing out here when you should be at lunch? he asked in his usual demeaning tone.

No, replied Rex, trying to hold back his disdain for the man. I was just heading to the cafeteria.

Really? Because it looked to me like you were eavesdropping on your teacher. Rex felt cornered, and when that happened, he became angry. Maybe you and I better go talk about it in my office, said Goran in an elevated tone that got under Rex’s skin. He felt like his blood was boiling. Normally, he only felt like this when the others his own age started trouble with him, but with them, he could just yell or throw a punch. Then again, perhaps he did not need to lift a finger, just allow his reputation to get him out of a potentially unpleasant situation.

Meeting the older man’s gaze, Rex smiled as he furrowed his brow slightly. You know, now that you mention it, there are some issues I’ve been feeling the need to discuss. Why don’t we go to your office? You know, someplace small and confined, with a locked door so no one can just barge in on us. He leaned in close enough for Goran to see the faint glow coming from his red eyes, and feel his hot breath against his face as he got an uncomfortably close look at Rex’s large conical teeth. I hate being interrupted once I get on a roll. Shall we? He could see panic set in the man’s face, or rather could smell it pouring off him in waves. It was so sweet, like an elegant perfume that rivaled even the sweet smell of Allison. Rex had always been keenly aware of what others around him were feeling, even if they themselves were not. He could read people’s emotions like an open book. In fact, all people were like books to him, the events that shaped them like the pages in their story. This, however, was another reason why he found it increasingly difficult to make any sort of connection with them. They were too transparent, lacking any real depth into which he could delve. He always felt as if he was standing in shallow waters when surrounded by them.

Rex now felt light, as if his body was slowly rising off the ground. He could hear Goran’s heartbeat increase as if someone was pounding on a drum. His eyes tracked a bead of sweat as it traveled down the man’s face and hit the floor with what resounded like a splash.

Uh…yeah… Goran struggled to find his words, his gaze no longer meeting Rex’s. All right…I’ll let it go this time, but don’t let me catch you doing this again. Get to the cafeteria.

Yes, sir, Rex answered with mock cheer and walked past him down the hall and towards the cafeteria. Walked away from another one, Rex mused to himself. Still, I hope I scared him enough to keep his mouth shut. I really don’t want Dad hearing about this. It used to bother him that he could intimidate people with his appearance alone. He had learned early on that people feared what they did not understand, and he most certainly fit into that category. Still, he knew how it made his father feel, and so for years he would ignore his natural inclination to get what he wanted through fear and intimidation, as he knew he so easily could. After all, how would people ever come to accept him if he gave any sort of validation to what they were feeling towards him?

However, as time marched on and their attitudes grew judgmental and fearful, Rex began to find himself on the receiving end of violence. What started as teasing from afar evolved into being jumped after school. At first he tried not to fight back, instead opting to just take it so as not to stir things up further. After all, it was not like they were really doing any damage. Part of his superior physical prowess came not just in being able to dispense punishment but also take it. So he would just sit there, letting them unload all their fears and hatred on him until they grew tired or fearful when they realized that ten solid minutes of beating barely resulted in so much as a bruise. After that, they kept their distance, but by this point the real damage had already been done, for any desire on his part to understand them on equal footing had been beaten out of him, and replaced with a sense of contemptuous superiority. While he had no desire to lord over them as a tyrant, he also felt no need to try to meet them on their terms. He saw them as insects crawling beneath his feet, and if one had the gall to try to sting him, he would crush them underfoot. Perhaps this was how tyranny began, he often thought, not by choice or desire but by circumstance. An interesting thought, indeed, but one that was interrupted by his growling stomach. Philosophy later, food now.

He sat by himself at the far table in the back of the cafeteria. To his surprise, no one who usually picked fights with him bothered him today. He wondered if his father had called the school and told the teachers to tell them to stop bullying him. That would not surprise him, especially with the way his father insisted he eat lunch here today. He loved his father and appreciated everything he was trying to do for him, but even he could not truly understand what Rex was feeling on the inside. No one can.

The rest of the day played out as usual: more lessons that could not be any less interesting, and silent wishes that Allison would turn and say hello. Actually, any indication that she knew he existed would have been appreciated. At last, the end bell rang. Rex, in a daze, was getting his things from his locker when someone pushed him hard against it from behind. Spinning around quickly, he found himself facing seven boys who glared back at him intently. The one in the middle, Dustin, was only a few centimeters shorter than Rex, but of a considerably smaller stature with short, dirty blond hair. The others seemed to blend into the background. All people, unless they made some sort of real first impression, all looked the same to Rex.

Hey, crybaby! said the boy.

I wouldn’t, Rex replied in his usual low gravelly voice, giving him a warning look.

Why? replied Dustin. You gonna go and cry to your teacher again?

I’m not a fan of repeating myself, so I figured I would just hit you really hard this time, since diplomacy obviously failed.

Then why did Goran yell at us all morning in his office? the boy said as he pushed Rex again.

Because your smile isn’t as dazzling as mine, Rex replied, turning and flashing a toothy grin.

More like because you went and cried to that French asshole that keeps you on the end of his leash, Dustin said angrily, pulling out a switchblade and thrusting it at Rex, who moved without hesitation to intercept it, grabbing the blade in his left hand.

There was an audible gasp from those who had gathered around the squabble, who now held their breath as a trickle of blood ran down Rex’s hand and arm. With a sigh, Rex closed his locker, then grabbed Dustin by the throat and effortlessly applied the necessary amount of pressure to close his airway. Now I know the vast wasteland in that head of yours is responsible for the disconnect between what you should and should not have done here, so I'll keep this real simple The boy gasped for breath.   In shocking display of strength, Rex lifted Dustin off the ground, and drove his entire head through a locker door. Everyone gasped in horror as his body fell limp, as as the boy emitted a barely audible groan. Rex just shook his head, then turned back where he was immediately confronted by startled faces that immediately drew back. I’m getting tired of dealing with you people day after day. How about everyone here who thinks I’m so fucking unbearable to even look at all have ago at me now so I don’t have to do this again on Monday. No one moved, not a single person. They all exchanged nervous glances while murmuring to one another. No? What a momentous moment, a mob of irrational people making a rational decision.

There suddenly came a commotion further up ahead as Rex heard a familiar voice. Clear the way, Goran yelled as he quickly made his way through the crowd.

Rex looked in his direction and felt a rush of anger. He knew that man would never leave him alone now. Had he been wrong in defending his honor and that of his father? No, he thought. Dustin sought him out and drew on him. Whatever happened to him now was his own fault, not that Rex ever made it a habit to feel pity or remorse for those who found themselves on the wrong end of his wrathful nature. Rex looked down at the boy, who was still unconscious and bleeding from the head. Everything in him said to unleash the full extent of his rage on everyone in sight. Fight, was what his instincts kept insisting. His blood was pumping through his veins hard and fast, and everything in him was telling him to continue his savage assault, when suddenly he heard a voice. This one was soft and gentle but possessing also a sense of desperation. Please, Rex, stop this…Rex looked around with feral eyes. They’re not worth it, came the voice again. This time he could make out that it belonged to a woman, but who? Please, just walk away.

The faint glow in his eyes faded as he looked around, confused. His instincts were still telling him to fight, but reason won out and he quickly stormed out the front entrance of the school before taking off into a sprint around the gym, through the parking lot, and stopping behind the school. He breathed heavily as his mind caught up with him and what had just happened. It was not the first time he had heard strange voices in his head. As far back as he could remember, he had been plagued by them as well as vivid dreams that would wake him in the night. He could never make sense of them, nor did he ever tell his father or anyone about them. Now I’ve done it. How am I going to explain this to Dad? He’s not going to be happy about this…Damn it!

Get in the car, came a man's angry voice from around the corner. Momentarily distracted from his problems, Rex peered around the side of the building and spotted Allison standing next to her father’s car, which she seemed reluctant to get in. If you don’t get in this car right now, I’m going to make you regret it when we get home, came the voice again.

Allison quickly climbed in and shut the door. The car sped off and passed Rex as time seemed to slow and their eyes met.  There he saw tears streaming down Allison's face as she gazed out at him with a sorrowful expression. Rex felt a pull in his chest. Something was telling him to go after her. He looked around frantically. What should I do? He’s the one. The one who’s been hurting her. But why do I care? Why should I get involved? Other people’s problems are their own…right? Rex was plagued by indecision. He could not just stand by and do nothing, but he wondered what he could even do to help. He knew how he could deal with her father, but he wondered if that would truly help matters or just make them worse. He wondered if things might be different if he had help. He looked around and realized that, like always, he was standing alone.

Rex threw his black hood over his head and ran after Allison, but the car was already around the corner and out of sight. He knew where she lived, but it was across town, which meant going on foot was out of the question. He rounded the street corner and saw a stop for one of the city buses. He ran up to it and asked a short, round man when the next bus was due to arrive. The man gazed down at his watch, then replied, In about thirteen minutes.

Thank you, replied Rex as he leaned against the stop to catch his breath.

Sixteen minutes later, the bus pulled up. Rex climbed on and sat in the front seat. He was unsure what he was going to do when he arrived at his destination. What could he do that would not involve a repeat of what had happened at school? Maybe he should go to the police. No, he thought. They would take too long to do anything, and Allison doesn’t deserve another minute of what that bastard is doing to her. Rex marveled at this rare pull towards empathy. Perhaps he was not as devoid of compassion for human beings as he would have liked to believe—a thought that troubled him more than it brought comfort, for he saw nothing in humanity that he discerned worth loving or protecting. Yet here he was, playing the role of knight in shining armor on his way to save the damsel in distress.

The bus rumbled across town over the course of thirty minutes and finally arrived in what Rex recognized as Allison’s neighborhood. disembarking at the next stop, Rex looked around at the semi-unfamiliar street. It was a low-income-housing district comprised mostly of run-down single-story homes and old battered vehicles.

Which way is it? he asked himself aloud. Suddenly remembering, he took off down the street, which was lit up with dim lights that grew brighter as the sun went down. He moved at a brisk pace but did not run. What am I going to do when I get there? he wondered. Knock on the door and ask, ‘Have you been beating Allison? Because if you have, I’m going to make you sorry.’ It sounded ridiculous even to him. Plus, he began to wonder about his own well-being. Allison’s father did not strike him as a rational individual, and something told him that he would not take too kindly to a teenage boy threatening him at his doorstep, especially one who looked like he stepped out of a carnival freak show. Rex suddenly felt angry for thinking of himself and not her. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and pressed on. Regardless, he would already be in trouble with his father for what happened at school, and running off to the dodgy end of town to boot, so he figured he might as well see this through to the end.

After worrying that he may have passed Allison's house without realizing it, he saw her father’s car in one of the driveways just up ahead on the left. Rex could hear yelling as he approached the house. They were angry shouts from a man, but he could not yet tell what was being said. He ran to the side of the house and crept under the kitchen window. There he could clearly hear cursing along with a barrage of slurred speech, as he slowly peered up to see what was happening inside.

From his vantage could see through the kitchen into the living room beyond. Allison stood defensively in the corner while her father paced back and forth, waving his arms erratically as he shouted obscenities. Rex immediately noticed the bottle in his right hand.

Damn it, girl, the man hollered. What the hell have you been telling your teacher?

Daddy, I swear I didn’t tell her anything, he heard Allison reply in a shrill, frantic voice.

Liar, her father yelled and struck her in the face with the back of his hand. Your principal called me at work today and said you told your teacher there were problems at home!

Daddy, I swear, Allison cried as tears ran down her face. I didn’t say a word!

Is that what I am to you? he continued, growing angrier with each passing moment. A problem? Answer me, you little bitch?

By now, Rex’s blood was boiling again. He could feel the same pull that he felt before driving him to go crashing in there and put a stop to all this. Do it was what the feeling inside was telling him. Punish him for what he has done to her. Rex looked down at his hands and was surprised to see what almost looked like a faint red glow encompassing them. Looking down at the rest of his body, he discovered the glow was, in fact, all around him, growing brighter as his rage grew.

Don’t go in there, came the soft feminine voice again. I know you want to help her, but if you go in there, you will only cause her more pain.

Inside, Allison’s father, Michael, was growing increasingly belligerent as he drank furiously from the bottle. I work like a dog all goddamn day so I can put food in your mouth and a roof over your head, he ranted. And this is how you repay me? Do you want to get rid of me that bad?

No, Daddy, Allison cried. I’m so sorry, please…I’m sorry.

You’re sorry? he said, grabbing Allison by the hair. Not as sorry as you’re gonna be, you bitch!

To Rex’s surprise, Michael pulled his fist back and drove it into her face, sending her sprawling to the floor. At that moment, Rex felt something snap deep within him, and grabbed a heavy metal trashcan, before throwing through the kitchen window. Allison and her father whipped their heads around in surprise, just in time to see the metal can come to rest on the kitchen floor followed quickly by Rex leaping through the shattered window.

What the hell? Michael screamed.

Rex rose up with a vicious stare, while his eyes now clearly emitted a red glow from under his dark hood.  Drawing it back, he bared his teeth menacingly at Michael, who stared back with a surrealistic expression.

Rex? Allison gasped. What are you doing here?

You know this guy? asked her father furiously.

He’s in my class, she answered, unable to take her eyes off him.

Kid, you are so— He stopped when he noticed Rex’s eyes and the rest of his unusual appearance. H…how much have I had? he asked, glancing down at the bottle in his hand.

The girl, Rex replied in his deep, throaty voice. Leave her alone.

You gotta be kidding me, the man said, shaking his head in disbelief. Did you put him up to this? he asked, turning back to his daughter. This…freak?

Allison shook her head vigorously. No, Daddy, I swear I didn’t—

She didn’t ask me to do anything, Rex said. I came here because—

Because why? Michael said, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand. Huh?

Because you’ve been hitting Allison, Rex growled, feeling an almost overwhelming hatred for the man that stood before him.

Oh, yeah? said Michael as he took a slightly unbalanced step toward him. So what if I have? You gonna do somethin’ ’bout it? Hmm? He now brought his face right to Rex’s.

She’s your daughter, said Rex, as his body began to tremble from the flood of adrenaline pouring through his veins. How can you do this to her?

Michael regarded him for a moment without saying a word, then slowly walked toward Allison while taking another drink. Better she learns now than later, he finally answered, looking down at the bottle in his hand. You think she’s got it so bad, kid? Life gets a whole hell of a lot worse…Believe me, she’s gonna find out that what’s waiting for her later on down the road is worse than this…than me.

Allison, Rex suddenly shouted, surprising even himself. You are better than this! Don’t let him hurt you anymore! Fight back!

SHUT UP! bellowed Michael. You wanna be a hero, you freak? Fine, I’ll show you what happens to heroes in this world.

With a sudden burst of speed, Michael smashed the bottle down on top of Rex’s head, distracting him momentarily so he could push him backwards over a fallen chair at his back. Michael, clearly not satisfied, began kicking him mercilessly. Rex found himself unable to make any noise. The first kick had landed squarely in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Searing pain spread through his head, and he could feel blood running over his scalp, down his head, and over his left eye. Am I going to die? he thought to himself curiously. Michael suddenly took his boot and drove it into the side of Rex’s head at full force, making everything around him dim. He could barely even feel Allison’s father kicking him anymore. His whole body had gone numb. Slowly his eyes closed, and he was enveloped in darkness. He heard Allison’s cry for her father to cease his assault just before he was completely shrouded in a black sea…Her voice seemed so distant.

Rex found himself lying in the same black misty void he would traverse in his dreams. But why was he here now? "Am I dreaming?" he asked himself.

Suddenly the space was filled with disembodied whispers. Run…do not be controlled by it…not again, Rex…Please, do not lose yourself.

The voice was like a knife cutting its way into his mind. SHUT UP! he yelled, and the void grew silent once more. Then, out of the darkness, no more than five feet away from him, a ball of red flame appeared, floating in midair. Rex looked at it with uncertainty before taking a tentative step towards it. There was something about it that he found almost hypnotic. It was as if it were slowly pulling him closer with gentle unseen hands. Strangely, Rex did not feel like resisting; rather, he found his legs moving on their own as he walked right up to the ball of beautiful crimson fire. As if by instinct, he held up his hands and cupped it within them. The flame danced harmlessly in his hands, when suddenly millions of images of vistas and stars exploded through his mind as quickly as a flash of lightning. Before he knew it, the flame had engulfed his entire body, radiating off him in red, fiery waves. He felt a presence that, for reasons he absolutely could not explain, felt so very familiar. He looked up to see two enormous burning red eyes emerge from the darkness, before they emitted a pulse of crimson flame, which made everything vanish within its brilliance.

Moments later, Rex’s eyes opened, burning red. He heard Michael yelling at him, asking if he had had enough. The man suddenly stopped when he saw Rex’s eyes and stumbled back. Slowly Rex rose to his feet and cracked his neck and back. Strange, he thought. It doesn’t hurt at all.  He looked over to Allison, who was shaking almost violently from fear. Why is she so scared? He looked back to Michael, who was trembling uncontrollably. Rex, now filled with an urge to fight, lunged at the man with frighting speed and murderous ferocity. Michael had no time to react, and was sent crashing to the floor with Rex pinning his arms down. He looked up in horror to see flaming red eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth clenched tightly together in a ferocious growl. He struggled to break free of Rex’s grip but found his strength to be unnatural for someone his size.

Stop it, Allison screamed, causing Rex to lose his focus. Taking advantage of this, Michel drilled his knee into his assailant’s gut. Rex coughed and bent over, holding his stomach, before looking up just in time to see a huge fist coming straight at his face. Rex fell to the floor with a hard thud. His vision blurred from his eyes beginning to water from the blow to his nose. Angling his to the side, Rex saw the blurry image of the man standing over him, clenched fists at the ready. Furrowing his brow, Rex wiped his eyes and looked into Michael’s. Despite having a rigid, angry face, the man looked almost sad and defeated. Glancing over to Allison, Rex for the first time noticed the full extent of what he had done to her. The entire left side of her face was dark and swollen. Blood ran down her nose and lip, leaving droplets on the carpet. The sight of this enraged him to a degree he had never felt. Leaping to his feet again effortlessly, Rex landed a blow into the man’s side, cracking several ribs. Michael reared back and clenched his teeth in pain.

You like picking a fight with someone weaker than you? Rex asked in a sinister voice, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and driving his head in his. Allison’s father staggered backward until he hit the wall. What happens when they’re not? He charged forward and with all his might rammed into Michael, causing the wall behind him to crack. Rex then drove his right knee into his shin, breaking Michael’s tibia, and with a savage display of strength, threw him across the room. Allison screamed as her father crashed onto the dining room table, completely destroying it. Finish him, came the furious will within. Rex could feel the other voice trying to intervene but was suppressed now by the rage that burned with unbridled ferocity.

Michael shook his head dazedly and peered up with a look of abject horror. Standing over him was Rex, red flame rising from his burning eyes, while his body looked as if it was expanding.  Growing heaver and imposing.   Rex reared his head back and let out a sound like a long, triumphant howl. So loud was it that Allison and her father cried in pain, and the house shook around them. Outside, car alarms went off everywhere as a powerful vibration rumbled through the ground.

Kill him, instinct demanded. Kill everything.

Rex’s mighty roar drew to a close, and he looked down at the battered and bleeding man lying pathetically at his feet. Time to die, he said in a voice that sounded like his was being joined by an otherworldly growl, and his jaws drew open impossibly wide.

Michael looked up to see Rex’s nightmarish maw coming down at him, when Allison jumped between him and his would-be killer. NOOO, she screamed, as she wrapped her arms around her father defensively.

Startled, Rex snapped out of his blind rage and found himself wondering what had happened. Rex, you must stop, Pleaded the initial voice. Look at what you have done!

Rex looked around the room and took in the state of ruin. Hearing Allison whimper, he turned back to face