Awa stumbled into her apartment, slamming the door behind her with a force that rattled the walls. The weight of the night pressed down on her, suffocating her as her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. Her clothes stuck to her skin, the dampness from the river still clinging to her, chilling her to the bone, yet inside, she was burning—burning with fear, confusion, and something darker she couldn't quite name.
Forrest. The fall. The water.
Her thoughts collided, each one more terrifying than the last, spinning her deeper into the chaos that had taken root in her mind. He had thrown her off the bridge. He had lifted her like she weighed nothing, dangling her over the icy river with no hesitation, no remorse. And then he had let go. He hadn't hesitated, hadn't cared.
Awa's heart pounded in her chest as she relived the moment over and over again. Each time, her throat constricted with the memory of his hand around her neck—his eyes so cold, so devoid of any human warmth. And yet, as terrifying as that moment had been, what scared her more was what she had felt.
That burning desire.
That primal, animalistic urge that had surged through her, clouding her mind, drowning out every rational thought. The need to bite him. To taste him. It wasn't normal. It wasn't human.
Her stomach twisted as the memories flooded her, thick and overwhelming. She couldn't shake the feeling that something inside her had snapped. That she wasn't the same person she had been even just hours ago. She had changed—was still changing.
She stumbled into the kitchen, her legs barely holding her up as she reached for a glass of water, hoping it would calm the storm raging inside her. The glass slipped from her trembling fingers, shattering on the floor. Awa cursed under her breath, crouching down to gather the broken pieces, but even that small task felt monumental. Her hands shook too much. She stared at them, her fingers trembling violently, the memory of her punch ringing in her ears.
That metal container. The dent.
Her heart raced again.
How did I do that? she thought, her pulse quickening. I didn't even hit it that hard. But the image of the deep, unmistakable indentation was burned into her brain. She had left a mark that no normal person could have made.
What if I'd hit one of those guys?
The thought hit her out of nowhere, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat. What if, instead of hitting the container, she had punched one of the men who had blocked her way? She could've broken their bones—no, worse. She could've killed them. Just like that. Without even trying.
Her hand went to her mouth, trembling as she stifled a sob. She was no stranger to strength; she'd worked out for years, built her body to be fit and toned, but this... this was something else. This wasn't strength that came from exercise or discipline. This was something unnatural. Something terrifying.
I could've killed them.
She stared at the broken glass in her hands, imagining their faces, broken and bloody, crushed beneath her fists. Her stomach turned violently, and she dropped the glass, backing away from the shards like they were evidence of a crime she had yet to commit.
Shuddering, Awa stumbled to the kitchen table and slumped into a chair, her mind still racing, her heart pounding out of control. She needed answers. She needed to know why this was happening.
Her eyes landed on the row of supplements and protein powders sitting in the cupboard, and her mind latched onto them with a desperation that bordered on manic.
It has to be that, she thought. It's got to be something I'm eating, some combination that made me this strong.
Without thinking, she jumped up and started yanking out containers, placing them one by one on the kitchen table. Whey protein, creatine, BCAAs, fish oil—everything she had been consuming religiously to maintain her body. There had to be something in there, something that explained why she could punch through metal like it was nothing. Maybe she had stumbled onto some miracle combination without realizing it, some formula that turned her into... this.
Superhuman serum, she thought, her mind spinning faster. If I can figure this out, I could sell it. I'd be rich. Her thoughts came rapid-fire, disjointed, and barely coherent. Imagine it—a supplement that gives you the strength of ten men. I'd have people lining up to buy it.
She grabbed her laptop and flipped it open, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she searched for answers. Her eyes darted across the screen, scanning for anything that connected supplements to unnatural strength.
"Come on, come on," she muttered under her breath, the weight of her exhaustion pressing down on her but her mind refusing to stop. She clicked through articles and studies, looking for explanations, but nothing made sense. None of it fit.
"What is happening to me?" she whispered to herself, the desperation in her voice growing. Her chest tightened with anxiety, and she started jotting down notes on random sheets of paper, scribbling formulas, combinations of supplements, random theories.
It has to be this. It has to be something I'm consuming.
But no matter how much she wrote, how many theories she scribbled onto the paper, none of it explained what had happened. None of it explained the power she had felt surging through her or the fact that she had felt the need to bite Forrest. That dark, feral hunger that had overtaken her.
The thoughts swirled around her mind, louder and louder, until the sound of footsteps startled her. She looked up from her chaotic mess, her bloodshot eyes blinking in confusion as Tina stepped into the kitchen, yawning as she rubbed her eyes.
"What the hell are you doing?" Tina asked groggily, her voice thick with sleep. She took in the scene—the scattered supplements, the half-eaten notes, and Awa's wild expression. "Awa, it's like four in the morning."
Awa barely registered her sister's concern. She was too deep, too caught up in the chaos of her thoughts. "Tina, listen to me," she said, her voice shaking with excitement and fear. "Something's happening to me. I'm stronger. I—I punched a metal container last night, and it dented. It actually dented."
Tina blinked, clearly struggling to understand. "What are you talking about?" she asked, stepping closer, her frown deepening. "You're not making any sense."
"I know it sounds crazy, but it's real!" Awa continued, her voice growing more frantic. "I'm telling you, I'm different. I can show you!"
Tina held up her hands, trying to calm her down. "Awa, you're exhausted. Look at yourself. You've been up all night. You're delirious."
Awa's frustration bubbled over. "I'm not delirious! Just watch, okay?"
She bolted to the kitchen drawer, pulling it open with a clatter, and grabbed a heavy meat tenderizer hammer. Tina's eyes widened as Awa waved it in front of her.
"Watch this," Awa muttered, more to herself than to Tina. She set the hammer down on the counter, flexing her fingers like she was about to prove something monumental.
Tina's alarm grew as she stepped forward, her hands raised in protest. "Awa, wait! What are you—"
Before Tina could stop her, Awa grabbed the hammer and slammed it down on her left hand, hard.
The kitchen fell deathly silent.
Tina stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at Awa's hand. For a moment, neither of them moved, both waiting for something—anything—to happen. Awa's mind raced, waiting for the rush of adrenaline, the numbness, the strange invincibility she had felt earlier.
But it didn't come.
Instead, pain shot through Awa's hand, sharp and immediate, searing up her arm in a hot, white flash. Her vision blurred, and for a second, she couldn't even comprehend what had just happened.
The pain was real. Too real.
A second passed before the sound of a loud, agonized scream tore through the air.
It was Awa's scream.
She dropped the hammer, clutching her hand as tears filled her eyes. The pain was unbearable, radiating through her fingers, up her wrist, and into her arm. She doubled over, gasping for breath as the weight of her own mistake crashed down on her.
Tina rushed forward, her face pale with panic. "Awa!" she cried, grabbing her sister's shoulders. "Oh my God, what were you thinking? Are you—"
But Awa couldn't answer. All she could do was clutch her hand, the searing pain tearing through her, reminding her that she wasn't invincible. She wasn't superhuman.