Breaking the mold - Ch 1
#1 of Breaking the Mold
So here we are, chapter one. Uhhhhhm... enjoy?
Breaking the mold - Chapter 1
He sat, staring at the book in his hand. "Exemplar use cases of the agile programming process" he read in his mind, sighing to himself he looked around the library, checking that the librarian was nowhere to be seen before tossing the book casually over his shoulder. "Who reads that sort of crap anyway" he thought to himself as the book made a briefly satisfying clatter in the shelves behind him. Leaning back on the rear legs of the chair, he hooked his feet up on to the graffiti covered, pock marked, heavy oak desk he was sitting in front of.
Detention, again. He was no stranger to spending his time trapped indoors listening to the cries, shouts and other merriments of those outside in the sun, but in the library of all cases. In a classroom or an office there were things to explore, secret papers and notes written by the teachers and even one time the headmaster.
He grinned to himself, rocking back and forth slowly, remembering that one time they left him in the headmaster's office, alone, for over an hour before they though to check on him. Apart from the briefest of pauses to check he wasn't being watched or that no-one would come back to check on him, he had spent the entire time reading through the official reports and correspondence kept in the filling cabinets.
His eyes unfocused and his grin widened as he remembered with pride that his file was twice the size of all the others in there, every event listed filling him with glee as he'd read through them, happy memories for him, every teacher's nightmare. He allowed himself a giggle, the sound filling the large, book filled room as he recalled how he'd split his report up, tucking the pages in to other kid's files at random before closing the drawer. It'd taken them weeks to realise what had happened, and by then it was too late for them to prove it was anything to do with him.
He always knew when to draw the line, when to switch on the big, innocent eyes and the sorrowful, regretful words. They could punish him all they liked, but he did just enough to keep himself from getting expelled, never doing too much too close together, although he'd come close a few times. He stretched himself out further, yawning widely with boredom. He had it good here, and he cared little about those who he took advantage of to get it. The teachers were being paid to do it, and the other kids were just too stupid to do it for themselves.
Mike's arms flailed for purchase as he tipped back too far, legs kicking out to find nothing but air to help him. Swinging backwards his head slammed hard on to the ridge of the table behind him, the teenager crumbling to the floor in the foetal position as stars danced in his vision and his head throbbed with pain.
"God damn, fucking... grrrrrah!" he yelled out at the chair, grabbing it by the legs as he swung it at the table he'd hit, a loud splintering crack echoing out as part of the chair went flying off under the other desks. Again and again he pummelled the desk with the chair, not stopping until all he held in his hands was a gnarled stump of a chair leg. He panted, his initial burst of anger sated, replaced by a deep seated loathing of the room. It was not enough, he would make sure they never put him in here again.
Turning around he marched forward and grabbed a large book from the nearest shelf, caring naught but that it was heavy and thick in his grip. He took aim and swung it like a bat, hitting the nearest shelf of paperbacks like a baseball bat, sending them flying and tumbling along the floor of the isle. He laughed out gleefully as he hefted the book again, sending another collection of carefully filed books spilling down like a waterfall at his feet. Bored of how easy it was, he hurled the book a few feet into a shelf nearby, making the bookcase rocked alarmingly as the books spilled down like a bizarre academic fruit machine win.
He grabbed the next hardback on the shelf and tossed it hard, followed by another and another, books raining down all around him as he destroyed the organisation around him, making all he could see a mirror of the anarchy in his mind. He didn't even pause to watch the cascading books any longer, just hurling tome after tome from the shelf of hardbacks, wallowing in the glorious mindlessness of the destruction. He reached out with both hands for the last book on the shelf, ready to complete tirade of destruction, but his fingers had barely gripped the surface when he jumped back, hands burning as he felt a harsh, static like shock flash though his palm and a good way up his arms.
He paused, panting, hands clenched as the tingling after effects of the shock continued to run through them, shock rooting him to the spot. "What was that?" he wondered, eyes glued to the book he'd tried to grab. Despite his bad behaviour and battles with authority, he was far from stupid. The book looked old, really old, bound in leather. Leather didn't conduct electricity, so what had given him the shock?
He leaned left, then right, eyes searching for something out of the ordinary, something to explain the strange jolt that had just hit him. He slowly crept closer to the shelf, body tensed, ready to spring away should anything happen. Nothing did, and after a few deep, steadying breaths Mike reached out a hand slowly, biting his lip as he lets the back of his fingers tap, then brush, and finally press against the spine. Gingerly he pulled the book from the shelf, turning it over in his hands, becoming more bold as time passed and the shock wasn't repeated.
The book was older even that he had originally thought, the ancient leather oddly warm and soft against his skin. It seemed much too heavy, likethere was a bar of some metal stored in a hollowed out secret compartment inside the book. Slowly, carefully, he lifted the cover to reveal the thin, almost translucent yellowing page on top. The writing inside was dark and defined, like the words were etched in to the page rather than just printed over the top.
For just the briefest moment, the words seem to swim and shimmy under his eyes, and then they were still, the strange symbols that had appeared before replaced with normal English lettering. Mike blinked and shook his head, it must have just been the after effects of the earlier, still unexplained, shock. He lifted his hand to turn the top page, flicking through the book mostly at random, trying to find something in there that made sense. He'd almost given up when he spotted something as he was flicking through the final pages, a small hand written note in the margin.
"To understand, to begin: start here, reading aloud "
A small arrow pointed out something that was set out like a poem, a few short lines centred in the page. How was he supposed to do that? The gurgling cries of babies were more like words than this. He let the book slump in his hands a little, looking around the wrecked library as he realised he'd totally forgotten his reason for the interest in the book, and even his reason for being in the library in the first place. Why had he become so interested in the book? Was it the unusual heavy weight of it, or was there some other reason that his hand tingled, like tiny ants were crawling all over his skin? His eyes caught the writing again and he once more found himself unwilling to look away. What was the harm in it anyway? There was no-one else here, there was nothing else to do, if it could provide some amusement...
With that he pulled the book back up in his left hand, reading it over in his head a time or two to try and work out how he would say some of the strange groups of letters, before breathing in and starting to read.
Flamgath delsharl gernaff unmshallo kucharr bedoff Deship regorwl sherrrefth ugnugrrrp Ooomarng preelipp wuyutt hnrgh Qkaff Rkurghmat Dispath Rispad Onokh Jhuso
The final word was cut off as a hot, static like feeling raced up his arm. With a yelp he tried to drop the book, but his hand seemed locked in place, holding up the tome as power continued to spill from it into him. He grunted and slumped sideways against the nearest set of shelves, shaking his arm desperately to try and dislodge the book. "Oh fuck, what's happening to me?" he thought as it continued. It didn't hurt as such, but the feeling was deeply uncomfortable. Slowly, he looked down at his hand, eyes widening as it twitched and the skin seemed to ripple, and pure white fur seemed to erupt in a wave down from his fingertips, the growth spreading up his arm like a moss up a tree trunk, white giving way to a light toffee colour once past his elbow.
Collapsing to his knees he gave a sharp cry as his bones clicked, his fingers shortening, palm thickening and puffing out, giving his hand the appearance of a long, slightly more dexterous paw. He stared at it for a moment, mouth open as he wiggled it and he watched it respond just like his hand would have, before he felt the short arm of his shirt lifted up by the fur as it continued to spread. Scrabbling at his shirt he tugged hard, sending the buttons popping off as he stared in panic as the fur spread over his chest. He used his still normal hand to try and press the fur back, uselessly covering his skin to give the fur no room to grow out, only to feel it push his hand up out of the way. He grabbed it hard and gave it a hard yank, and instantly regretted it, feeling just like he'd tried to rip out hair from his head.
Loosing sight of the edge growing upwards as it slid slowly up his neck, he watched spellbound as his chest and tummy were slowly covered, the toffee fur spreading down his sides bordering the pure white flowing down his chest like someone had dumped invisible hair growth syrup over his front. "Oh no... no, no NO!" he yelled as he spotted the fur heading up over his chin, curling up and whimpering pitifully as his face seemed to start pressing outwards, making him feel a mixture of toothache, brain freeze and headache all at once. Closing his eyes he gulped then growled lowly as the pain continued for several seconds. He gasped a couple of times, snuffling his nose before gagging, bringing his hands up and blinking in surprise as the soft, leathery pads bounce off his nose. What was that smell? Oh god, it was horrible, pungent, so strong it seemed to fill his head from front to back. He gasped and huffed in air through his mouth, eyes watering as he came to the realisation that it smelled exactly like the library had when he first came in, except thousands of times stronger and with an added, somehow familiar doggy smell.
"Doggy smell??" he thought to himself, his eyes snapping open and looking down at himself. At least, he would have seen himself if there wasn't a large, panting dog snout in the way. A paw reached up and touched the muzzle. His paw; his muzzle; he realised as what had happened finally dawned on him, tilting his head so he could see past his new appendage. The fur covered him completely down to his feet now, his battered trainers laying split next to his large rear paws. He let his paws pat-stroke over his torso, up past the grey patches on his shoulders and up over his head, passing over where his ears used to be and panicking a little before he moved up higher and felt the two soft, flexible triangles perched on top of each side of his head. There was no denying it... he was a dog! No, that wasn't right, he couldn't be a dog, he was still thinking, still conscious and he wasn't really shaped like a dog. He slowly got up off his floor, swaying a little as he got used to the rounded pads that now cushioned his feet. He was half dog... half person. "Shit" he swore to himself... but what came out of his muzzle was a short, sharp bark. Wait... what? He couldn't talk? He tried again, face taught in concentration. "Hrwwo... Herrlloow... Heerllo" so he could still talk, but it was decidedly a lot of effort, and it really didn't sound right.
At least he was getting used to his nose telling him he was in some sort of scent tornado, though it still caught him by surprise if he breathed in a little too heavily. What was he going to do? He'd be famous, on all the TV shows, a medical marvel... prodded... poked... experimented on? Dissected?? He shuddered, then jumped a little as he felt two things touch light against his head. Putting a paw up to feel he scowled as he realised "Oh right, ears." Perking them back up with conscious effort, he turned back to the book and stared at it accusingly. "Right you, you did this, you can undo it!" he thought, flopping down and starting to flick through it again, more slowly this time.
After some careful exploration of the book, he came to the conclusion that it was still as much gibberish as it was earlier, but he had found another, more hidden note.
"To fix the problem, read this "
He snorted to himself, like he was going to trust whoever wrote that. Still, given what had happened when he'd read the other part, reading bits of the book at random could have disastrous consequences for his health and well-being, let alone his social life. Growling again, he turned back to the noted page in the book, trying to decide what to do. Glancing up at the clock he bared his teeth; ten minutes before the end of break! That meant he had less than five before they came to fetch him. Damn it! Sighing to himself he looked back down at the book and began to read once more.
Depatcj irect geiff how bichae Regath kquwell oh qenchaee!
He sat, tense, braced for what was to come, but nothing happened. Opening an eye a slither then jumping to his feet, knowing he had to think of something else. A bright yellow flash dazzled him and he barely had time to open his muzzle before the light faded to blackness as he passed out.
The pup's body become transparent, filled with a golden light as his eyes closed and head flopped. The air filled with the high pitched whispering whine of heavy magical activity and the book fell to the floor with a heavy thump from the pup's paw. There was a sudden snap as the outline split in to a cloud of tiny yellow sparks which streamed up towards the roof, but blinked out of existence just before reaching it. Just a few moments later the last of the yellow dots vanished and the room was filled with silence once more.
What seemed the moment before to be a slightly odd pattern of shadows detached itself from the rest of the shadows and padded over to the book, picking it up with a grin on his face. "Sometimes it's too easy." The black furred fox lifted his paw, concentrating for a moment as the books reconstructed themselves and spilled back up on to the shelves. Brushing the dust from his white chest fur absently; he looked in to middle distance "When it's time, I'll come for you." Giving one last look around to check everything was how it had been to begin with, he padded back over to the shadows and without any identifiable change the library was empty once more, save for the tiny specks of dust dancing in the shards of bright sunlight cutting through the room.