Little children have a particularly piercing wail. It is good at piercing a mother’s numbness. Again she says something I do not understand and her children react to her mother, rushing forward to embrace her. Maria is staring at her hands. They are blue. A dark blue like you might find on paintings from India depicting mythological beings.
P: Maria, look at me.
No response. I feel a certain numb clarity. Well, at least she does not spit fire. There is a discoloured spot on a wall, but nothing is burning. That raises a point, though. That singed spot is to the left and slightly behind me. Why can I see it? There would be a mirror in the bathroom downstairs, where I took a shower yesterday, but leaving now does not seem a good idea. I pick up my tricorder.
P: Maria, can you hear me.
No, reaction. In fact she is sobbing a little.
She moves away from me as I cautiously approach her. This is making me nervous. I am taking a good look at my hands. My knuckles inmediately spark my interest. They look kind of bulbous. The outsides of fingers are armoured. That is interesting but not as interesting as having a lot of fingers and thumbs and, as I mentioned, four arms, but I am used to that, thanks to one of my first powers.
That is the time I feel two alien auras coming along the corridor the door opens up into.
P: Aliens are coming.
I am being ignored. Well, if they can turn us into alien beings, resistance should be futile. I ought to put down the stuff. I cannot bring myself to do so.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">Race:</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%">Skavalander</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">Current Rank:</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%">Iron 0</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">Progress to bronze rank</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%">0%</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%"> </td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">Racial Abilities:</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">[Winged Fighter]</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">[Pantry of Poisonous Horror]</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">[Instinctive Aim]</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">[Unholy Affinity]</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">[Astral Affinity]</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 50.0407%">[War will feed itself]</td>
<td style="width: 49.9013%"> </td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Have I become some kind of necromantic chef?