The day started like any other—loud, rushed, and full of potential.
I stretched as my alarm buzzed, glancing at the blinking numbers. 7:42 a.m.
"Crap, I was supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago," I muttered, pushing off the blankets and stumbling out of bed with half-closed eyes. "First day of college, Steve. Not exactly the time to hit snooze five times."
I made my way to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. When I looked in the mirror, I smirked. My long blond hair was doing its best impersonation of a bird's nest—impressive, really, considering I brushed it last night.
"Yeah, definitely rocking the 'accidental rockstar' look," I muttered with a grin.
I got to work quickly: teeth, shower, clothes. A black hoodie and jeans—clean enough—and I was out the door of my tiny one-room apartment. My backpack was half-zipped and already missing one notebook. I made a mental note to fix that. Later.
New York was alive and chaotic as always. I loved it. There was something about the noise and the movement that felt like home. I walked with a confident pace, half-focused, half-daydreaming about the classes ahead.
On my way to campus, I spotted my favorite hot dog cart. "Breakfast of champions," I said to the vendor.
"You're late," he replied, handing me a dog with everything on it.
"Fashionably," I said with a wink, taking a bite. "Big day."
But I didn't get far.
Just as I passed the corner of 5th and Fulton, a sharp pain tore through my stomach. I stopped mid-step.
What the—?
The hot dog dropped from my hand.
Then the pain exploded, like every nerve in my body had just been plugged into a live wire. My legs buckled. I barely made it into a nearby alley before collapsing to my knees.
"Okay, okay—breathe—what is this?!" I gasped. My muscles twitched, my bones shifted. It was like my body was rebuilding itself. "This is not normal. Definitely not in the syllabus."
I clenched my teeth as a heat bloomed across my back. Then… it stopped.
Silence.
I stayed there, crouched, panting, trying to make sense of what just happened.
Then I felt it.
Something behind me. Heavy. Alive.
I turned my head slowly and saw it.
A tail. A freaking scorpion tail, tan and armored, curling in the air behind me like it belonged there.
"…Okay. That's new."
I stared at it. It twitched.
"Please tell me this is some kind of nightmare brought on by street meat and stress."
I reached back and touched it. Real. Solid. It moved when I thought about it moving—like an extra limb.
Part of me wanted to scream. The other part—the stronger part—was already analyzing.
"Alright, Steve," I said aloud. "You've either just become a Marvel reject or something way worse."
Then, as if on cue, the tail began to retract—slowly drawing itself back into my lower back until it vanished completely.
"What the hell…" I muttered. "Okay. So I just grew a tail. A stinger. Then it disappeared. Yep. First day of college. Totally normal."
I glanced at my watch. 8:11 a.m. I was already late.
"I should go to class. Or… you know, maybe not walk into orientation looking like I've had a supernatural breakdown."
I turned back toward home. "Change of plans. First, figure out what the hell is happening. Then survive college."
As I walked away from the alley, one hand on the back of my hoodie just in case the tail came back, a strange thought crossed my mind.
"This could actually be… kinda cool."
When I finally made it back to my apartment, all I wanted to do was collapse on my bed and pretend the day never happened. But the moment I opened the door to my room, I stopped cold.
Someone was already there—standing by my window, grinning with a cruel, twisted smile.
"Finally," he said, his voice low and hungry. "Do you know how long I've been waiting? I'm starving."
I shuddered. There was something deeply wrong about him—like his presence bent the air in the room. My heart began to pound.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
The man's smile stretched even wider. "Your death."
Before I could say a word, he shot something at me—a sticky strand of web. My instincts kicked in, and I moved. Fast. Faster than should've been humanly possible. I dove to the side, the web smacking into the wall where my head had been a second earlier.
"What the hell—?"
He charged at me, eyes glowing, sharp fangs flashing from his mouth like some kind of monster. I barely had time to react, but somehow my tail was already out—ripping from my back like it had a mind of its own. It struck him mid-charge, slamming him across the room.
I stared at it in shock. "What the hell is happening?"
But the man just laughed through the pain and got up. Blood dripped from his mouth as he charged again—faster this time, wild and animalistic.
Everything happened in a blur. My tail moved on its own again, and this time… it stabbed him.
Right in the back.
He froze. His eyes widened. He staggered, then dropped to the floor without a sound.
I stood over him, chest heaving. "Did I… kill him?" I whispered.
Then it hit me.
A hunger. Deep, raw, and burning from the inside out. Like nothing I'd ever felt before. My stomach twisted and roared with need.
And before I knew what I was doing, I was on my knees. Over him.
Eating.
The moment my teeth sank into flesh, my mind screamed. But my body didn't stop. It wanted more. Needed more.
When I finally realized what I was doing, I pulled back in horror. My hands were soaked. My face, too.
I gasped. "What am I doing?!"
I started to hyperventilate, panic overtaking everything. My thoughts spun out of control.
What am I? What's happening to me? What did I just do?
Then everything went dark, and I collapsed.