Another day at school had been a disaster. He was pushed into lockers, called names, and laughed at when he tripped over his own feet.
Dante clenched his fists in anger as he turned into an alley, hoping to avoid the busier streets.
"Why couldn't they just leave him alone?"
A gust of wind blew trash across the sidewalk, and his eyes caught something in the corner of a bin. A small bottle lay in the dirt next to a pile of old newspapers. Curious, he stepped closer, crouching to get a better look.
He picked it up, wiping the dust off with his sleeve. It was a tiny glass vial still sealed, the label so faded he couldn't make out the writing, but the bottle felt strangely warm in his palm.
"Perfume?" he muttered. "Who throws this away?"
He shrugged and twisted the cap open, curious. A sharp, almost metallic scent hit him, making his nose twitch. It smelled strange, like rain and burnt wood all mixed together. He hesitated for a moment but then sprayed a small amount onto his wrist.
Suddenly, the air around him shifted. It was like the atmosphere had thickened, pressing down on him. His skin tingled, and his heart pounded as a strange warmth spread through his chest.
"What the hell…?"
He rubbed his wrist, but the sensation grew stronger. The hairs on his arms stood up, and a light breeze started to whip through the alley. His breath quickened. The perfume bottle slipped from his hand, shattering on the concrete, but he didn't care.
Without warning, flames flickered to life at his fingertips. He yelped, stumbling back against the alley wall, but the fire didn't burn. It danced across his skin like it belonged there, bright and fierce.
"Shit! What is going on?" he whispered, his voice shaking. "No way this isn't real. I am definitely dreaming."
But it was real when he opened his eyes again, the flames were still there, crackling around his hands like they belonged to him.
The fire didn't stop.
His pulse raced as he waved his hand, trying to extinguish the flames. Instead, a burst of water shot from his palm, splashing onto the ground and turning the flames into steam.
Dante gasped, his mind reeling. "What the hell is happening?"
He backed up, tripping over a trash can as sparks of electricity crackled from his fingers, arcing toward a nearby metal box in the alley. The box rattled violently, the electricity jumping through it, breaking the lock.
"No, no, no!" he shouted, but the electricity only grew stronger, racing up his arms.
The air around him felt charged, like a storm was about to break. His skin buzzed with energy, and his body felt weightless, as if the very ground beneath him wasn't solid anymore.
Dante squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to stop, but the power surged through him, unstoppable. His muscles tensed, and another bolt of lightning shot from his hands, slamming into a fire escape above him. The metal screeched and sparked, sending bits of debris crashing down.
He clutched his head, panic gripping him. "Make it stop!"
The wind picked up, swirling the trash in the alley, and Dante's body vibrated with energy. His breath came in shallow gasps as he staggered to his feet, trying to understand what was happening to him.
Flames, water, lightning, it was all too much.
"I've lost it," he whispered, clutching his head with his hands. "I'm going crazy."
Another jolt of electricity crackled from his fingertips, arcing toward a nearby car. The horn blared as the electricity surged through it, making Dante jump.
"I need to get out of here."
He started to run, but with every step, the ground beneath him seemed to pulse, reacting to the power coursing through him.
A car horn blared as he stumbled out of the alley and onto the street. People glanced at him, their faces a blur, but no one stopped. They couldn't see what was happening to him. Or maybe they didn't care.
He felt like he was drowning in his own body, his senses overwhelmed. He ran, not knowing where to go, his heart racing faster than ever. Sparks flew from his fingertips as he darted across the street, the streetlamps flickering and popping as he passed.
By the time he made it to a quiet park, he collapsed onto a bench, his body trembling.
His hands still glowed faintly, small flickers of fire and sparks of electricity trailing along his skin. But the panic didn't fade. He had no idea how to control it.
He collapsed onto a bench, his hands trembling as he looked at them. "What do I do?"
The park was empty, the city noises distant now. He stared at his hands, watching the energy flow from him like it was alive, like it was part of him.
"I'm a freak," he muttered.
He buried his face in his hands, his mind spinning with confusion and fear.