Chapter 10: 10. Some Things Change…

"What the-!" Zeff exclaimed as Yessica lay on the floor at his feet.

He had hoped she would run or even surrender as he had acted like he was about to punch her, but fainting? It had caught him completely off guard.

'Woah.' he thought with a excited smirk. 'This Phobia skill is amazing.'

His ears burned as he recalled the words he had used in an attempt to intimidate Yessica and increase her Fear.

'I see you…' he had rasped whimsically from the floor.

'You… with the face.' he had said, trying to seem as tough as he possibly could.

Not to mention his winner of a line, "What do you think of a man who hits a woman?"… Zeff could hardly stand to recall it, he was so embarrassed.

Though he had never felt so lame in his life, it was the best he could do given a lifetime of anime and video games. But his intimidation tactics had miraculously worked, nonetheless, as each line had made Yessica's Fear jump several points. It only took him literally throwing an officer into a fridge to make her reach Phobia level I.

He could definitely see how this skill alone could be quite the asset at higher levels. But even at its current level, Zeff had effectively turned six well-trained police officers into quivering, poopy diaper babies without breaking a sweat.

Zeff sighed regretfully.

Truth be told, he didn't feel too good about the whole exchange. He was by no means a pacifist, but something about striking someone, especially a cop, made him feel guilty somehow. He would have much rather escaped with Dr. Sylvan the moment the cops came, but there was the danger of being shot at as they ran.

Zeff winced in pain, lifting up his shirt to find two ugly, purple bruises on his stomach that were about as big as a baseball was round. This pain and the two purple bruises on his stomach were a chilling indication of what could have happened had he not chosen a particular skill on a whim.

"H-How in the world did—" began Dr. Sylvan as he walked into the living room, surveying the carnage. He had stopped short as Zeff turned towards him, his shirt still raised. "My word…" gasped the doctor, his mouth agape, as he saw the bruises on Zeff's stomach.

"Yeah. I'll explain later…" insisted Zeff. "Right now we need to get—"

Suddenly there was a terrible commotion as, outside his window, the sound of cars screeching to a stop and running engines filled the air. Men's voices could be heard barking out orders as doors began to fly open and shut violently.

As Zeff arched his neck to look out of the window, making sure not to get too close to it and be spotted, he saw that outside his apartment building four black vehicles like what you might see in an war movie had parked on the far side of the street behind 3 empty police cars. On the side of one of the cars Zeff could see the letters "S.W.A.T." written in golden brown.

"Billboards and Ballerinas!" He exclaimed. "They called the SWAT team!!?"

"Oh, dear." Came the doctor's terse response.

Suddenly Zeff saw the shadow of something flying up through the window seal and then the next moment something hit his hardwood floor with a loud *Clank*. Zeff, having played Call of Duty more than once in his life, instantly recognized the object as a stun grenade and he certainly wasn't going to stand around and wait for it to explode.

Quick as a flash, he was by Dr. Sylvan's side, taking him up in his arms as though the doctor was a toddler. And with a quick step and a short hop he was at the hole in the wall ready to jump.

Several thoughts crossed his mind as he gathered himself to leap from the second floor of his apartment, his home. He thought that by running rather than giving himself up, he would be somehow admitting to whatever he had been falsely or wrongfully accused of. He thought that he would never be able to return to his apartment again and that his life was about to change forever.

Many thoughts bombarded his mind in that fleeting moment before the jump. But the thought that most worried him, that would likely revisit him in the late hours of the coming nights, was this: What would my parents think of me now?

"Don't!" Cried Sylvan in abject horror.

"Don't worry! I got this." Zeff promised confidently. With his new body a jump from this height would be no problem. He just had to jump as far away from the building as he could.

"No! Don't jump with your full stren—"

*DOUM!*

For a fraction of a second, Zeff thought that the stun grenade had gone off and flung him and the doctor violently into the air. But the soft and distant *poom* of an explosion far behind him and the whistle of the wind as his eyes began to water told a different story.

Zeff waited with bated breath to hit the ground but, much to his astonishment, he never did. And as he looked over his shoulder in search of the ground he realized he wouldn't be touching down for several more seconds.

He was soaring though the air at an incredible speed and several tens of feet above the ground as his apartment and his old life disappeared behind him.

"I can fly!?" he laughed elated. "Sylvan! I can f—"

"You're not flying, boy!!" Screamed Sylvan over the rush of the wind while holding on to Zeff for dear life. "You're falling!"

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It took a moment for Zeff to understand what the doctor had meant but, as the ground began to quickly approach from the bottom and the front, it soon registered.

He hardly had time to rotate his body (so that he would impact the ground first instead of the doctor) before he flew, butt first, through the tops of the trees, through a tree trunk, and into the inclining side of a small hill where he came to an abrupt and sudden stop with a loud thump and a spray of dust.

Zeff knew at once he was perfectly fine. In fact he had barely felt a thing. He was worried about Dr. Sylvan. A harsh impact like that might have devastated his already weak and dying body. "Doctor?" He called nervously. "You alright?"

There was no response.

"Doctor!?" He got himself from under the doctor and placed him gently on the soft earth, making sure not to jostle him too much.

Sylvan's body went completely limp and he was bleeding profusely from his nose and ears just like he had been the night they met. His eyes, half open, were cold and listless.

"No! Doc, Wake up!" He shrieked. But just then he noticed that Sylvan was still breathing although it was quite shallow.

"Thank God…" he sighed with relief, tears nearly welling up in his eyes.

Zeff didn't know Sylvan very well, but the thought of being responsible for his death, even if it was inadvertent, would have crushed him and he knew it. In one day, he had physically changed into practically a whole other person, apparently been wrongfully accused of theft and murder, become a criminal by attacking law enforcement officials and evading arrest, and worst of all he had literally transformed into a fire-breathing dragon and killed several men… He still wasn't sure if he should take responsibility for that one, but killing Sylvan now would certainly be his fault and becoming an actual killer was not something he wanted for himself.

Off in the distance Zeff could hear the sound of sirens approaching.

"C'mon Doc. Let's get you somewhere safe…" He whispered, carefully gathering up the doctor into his arms and running into the nearby woods.

*****

*Tick-tock-tick* ticked the clock above Zeff's head as he laid down on someone else's cushy sofa in someone else's luxurious living room. It was, in Zeff's opinion, one of, if not the most, comfortable sofas he had ever had the pleasure of laying on. Across the room, laying on another piece of the sofa set, was Dr. Sylvan, still unconscious and with a slight fever but alive. He had a wet towel over his forehead and Zeff had found a standing fan in one of the closets and put it right next to him to keep him cool.

Zeff had ran for hours through the woods hoping to evade law enforcement with Sylvan in his arms the whole time. At one point near sunset, while he was crouched in the woods to avoid a slow moving police cruiser, he had seriously contemplated turning himself in for Sylvan's sake. As far as Zeff knew, the poor man was moment's away from knocking on heaven's doors. If Zeff had to be taken in so that Sylvan could go to the hospital and get the medical treatment he needed, then so be it.

But, just as he was about to reveal himself to the cruiser, the smirking, cold, faces of Yessica and the Tender-Man came into his mind followed closely by Dr. Sylvan's grim warning. "There are powerful people looking for me." he had said.

Zeff couldn't just let him go to the hospital and risk someone killing him there when he was completely defenseless.

So he simply continued to wander aimlessly through the woods moving away from the city to the east, not knowing what to do or where to go.

At around 10 o'clock, however, he had stumbled upon a huge brick estate deep in the woods outside of the city. At first, he thought to ignore the house and keep moving deeper into the woods, but that's when he caught a glimpse of the house's mailbox. It was full to bursting with letters and magazines.

Zeff cautiously and quietly removed a few letters until he found one with a date on it. In the dim moonlight he could just make out the date written on the letter: March 17th.

Today was September 5th. 'Who leaves their home alone for nearly 6 months!?' Zeff had asked himself, but the size and location of the house gave him the answer, "A filthy rich person with a second house in Maui, that's who."

He didn't want to do what his brain was telling him to do, but as he looked at Doctor Sylvan's half-dead form, he bit his lip and sneakily approached the front door. After checking that no one was home, he was in the house, comfy on the couch, in a matter of seconds, the TV on the news channel.

"I guess, I have to add 'breaking and entering' to my list of crimes now…" He had told the unconscious Dr. Sylvan somberly.

Zeff had been watching the news for about 40 minutes now and was surprised not to see his face plastered across the screen. It was just the usual kind of stuff: politics for ratings…

Zeff breathed a sigh of relief, 'Maybe that cop was just lying to get a rise out of me…—'

Zeff's thoughts stopped dead as, just before him on the 65 inch Ultra HD TV, a picture of himself was being displayed.

It was an unflattering image of his 'old' tubbier, shorter self taken from his Neckbook page. In it, Zeff could be seen eating a 12 inch hoagie and wearing a sombrero, for some reason. His eyes were half open and partially crossed in a way that made him appear both drunk and stupid as he shoved the hoagie into his ketchup and mustard covered mouth.

"Oh, c'mon! I know you coulda found a better picture than that!" Zeff yelled at the screen as the news anchor began. 

"Hello Dallas, Texas. Tonight's top story: The entire area east of Rockwall is on high alert as they search frantically for this man—" he pointed at the image of Zeff on the screen. "Zephaniah Corad. The man many believe is responsible for the gruesome deaths of several men yesterday night and the brutal murder of one of RCPDs very own. Stay with us for more in a bit."

"W-what… Murder…?" was all Zeff could manage to say as he suddenly felt sick to his stomach and the world began to spin.

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