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Description
I startled awake. Then, I started to fall, and I wondered if I was really awake at all. I used my extra arms to help break my fall. I looked up and saw the branch that I was sleeping on. That would explain the falling, especially since I woke up so violently.
“You’re finally awake, huh?”
I jumped and then whirled around, arms already swinging around to block the incoming bullets. Except there weren’t any. What I saw confused me. There was a man just standing there, totally oblivious to the fact that he almost got shredded. I think I looked pretty stupid just looking at him, confused, because the next thing he said was “Well, are you going to just stand there looking dumb, or are you going to come get breakfast?”
“W-what?” was all I could get out in my continuing dumbfoundedness. Didn’t he see my horns? Didn’t he know that at any second I could turn into a bloodthirsty berserker? All of a sudden, the fog cleared, and I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
“What?”
“Breakfast. You know, the meal you usually eat in the morning?”
“But… Why? Don’t you see my horns? Or do you even care that I might tear you to pieces at any second?”
“Oh. You’re right. I should probably run away screaming, right? But I’m already within your range, and any sudden movement, especially combined with a loud, sudden noise could cause you to go berserker.”
“But, I could kill you…”
“Yep, you said that already. I hate to be clichéd, but I think you would have killed me by now if you were going to. I saw the look on your face, you were about to kill me, but you stopped yourself. Now, are you going to come and get breakfast, or would you rather catch your own food?”
“Okay…” The man’s manner didn’t make sense. How did he know so much about me? It was as if he had known me all my life. I decided to stop thinking about it. Why did this man intrigue me so? Was it that he knew so much about my mutation, or was it that he didn’t really seem to care about what my mutation could mean for him? When we got to where he lived, a fairly small shack in the woods, he prepared some sort of bitter pancakes with what he said was homemade syrup. I didn’t know how, because I didn’t see any maple trees around, but he told me that it was made from birch sap. I wondered how I could be so casual with him. I had been running away from people for months now. How could I so suddenly act as if I was living with him for that time instead? When I asked him why he was so comfortable around me, he said that he had a daughter with the mutation. I asked about her, but he said that he’d tell me more later.
“Later? What do you mean? I plan on leaving as soon as I can. There won’t be a later.”
“Well, you can go, that’s up to you, but I’m fairly sure you don’t want to run forever.”
“Of course not, but—“
“Well, then, wouldn’t it be better if you could just stay here and not have to run?”
“What makes you think I want to stay with you? Why would I stay with you out here in the woods? What possessed you to live in the woods anyway?” But it was true. I did want to stay with him. He reminded me of my dad.
“That’s all part of the story.”
“What story? You told me that your daughter was a mutant. That’s hardly what I would call a story.”
“Well, that in and of itself could be a story, couldn’t it? But there’s more, and I know you want to hear it.”
“Okay, fine, then. Tell me your story.”
“I thought you’d never ask. Let me start by telling you my name. I’m Markos Lemend.”
“WHAT???”
“Woah, there! Calm down! I’m not going to turn you in!” Yeah, right. As if I could have believed that. Markos Lemend was one of the most avid persecutors of us mutants. That was, before he had died. Or had he actually died?
“Perhaps I should have told you my story first. Well, it began when I was around your age…”

Description
I startled awake. Then, I started to fall, and I wondered if I was really awake at all. I used my extra arms to help break my fall. I looked up and saw the branch that I was sleeping on. That would explain the falling, especially since I woke up so violently.
“You’re finally awake, huh?”
I jumped and then whirled around, arms already swinging around to block the incoming bullets. Except there weren’t any. What I saw confused me. There was a man just standing there, totally oblivious to the fact that he almost got shredded. I think I looked pretty stupid just looking at him, confused, because the next thing he said was “Well, are you going to just stand there looking dumb, or are you going to come get breakfast?”
“W-what?” was all I could get out in my continuing dumbfoundedness. Didn’t he see my horns? Didn’t he know that at any second I could turn into a bloodthirsty berserker? All of a sudden, the fog cleared, and I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
“What?”
“Breakfast. You know, the meal you usually eat in the morning?”
“But… Why? Don’t you see my horns? Or do you even care that I might tear you to pieces at any second?”
“Oh. You’re right. I should probably run away screaming, right? But I’m already within your range, and any sudden movement, especially combined with a loud, sudden noise could cause you to go berserker.”
“But, I could kill you…”
“Yep, you said that already. I hate to be clichéd, but I think you would have killed me by now if you were going to. I saw the look on your face, you were about to kill me, but you stopped yourself. Now, are you going to come and get breakfast, or would you rather catch your own food?”
“Okay…” The man’s manner didn’t make sense. How did he know so much about me? It was as if he had known me all my life. I decided to stop thinking about it. Why did this man intrigue me so? Was it that he knew so much about my mutation, or was it that he didn’t really seem to care about what my mutation could mean for him? When we got to where he lived, a fairly small shack in the woods, he prepared some sort of bitter pancakes with what he said was homemade syrup. I didn’t know how, because I didn’t see any maple trees around, but he told me that it was made from birch sap. I wondered how I could be so casual with him. I had been running away from people for months now. How could I so suddenly act as if I was living with him for that time instead? When I asked him why he was so comfortable around me, he said that he had a daughter with the mutation. I asked about her, but he said that he’d tell me more later.
“Later? What do you mean? I plan on leaving as soon as I can. There won’t be a later.”
“Well, you can go, that’s up to you, but I’m fairly sure you don’t want to run forever.”
“Of course not, but—“
“Well, then, wouldn’t it be better if you could just stay here and not have to run?”
“What makes you think I want to stay with you? Why would I stay with you out here in the woods? What possessed you to live in the woods anyway?” But it was true. I did want to stay with him. He reminded me of my dad.
“That’s all part of the story.”
“What story? You told me that your daughter was a mutant. That’s hardly what I would call a story.”
“Well, that in and of itself could be a story, couldn’t it? But there’s more, and I know you want to hear it.”
“Okay, fine, then. Tell me your story.”
“I thought you’d never ask. Let me start by telling you my name. I’m Markos Lemend.”
“WHAT???”
“Woah, there! Calm down! I’m not going to turn you in!” Yeah, right. As if I could have believed that. Markos Lemend was one of the most avid persecutors of us mutants. That was, before he had died. Or had he actually died?
“Perhaps I should have told you my story first. Well, it began when I was around your age…”