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Herman turned twenty four, and found a job at the SDN company, hero's for hire. He took up the honerable position of a janitor, naturally, surrounded by the same stars that filled his eyes in his childhood. He found, after an applausible level of pickyness, a caretaker for his grandma, and took off for his future.
When Herman had turned twenty two, he had dreaded each day, the hours starting to feel like a strange house arrest, due to finding at twenty that he was much more compatible with online jobs that kept him with his grandma all day.
When Herman had turned eighteen, he realized college wasn't an option.
When Herman had turned sixteen, he wondered what college he would go to, or however that would work with his circumstances. Relatively new powers crashing down half the potential he had, which was already only so much, but he was a dreamer.
When Herman had turned fifteen, he wondered how to dissapear completely.
When Herman had turned fourteen, he had dissapeared for one week.
It was something that wasn't really brought up anymore in all honesty. Even right after the matter, Herman would clam up at any questions. at anything, really. Anyone, especially. Only his grandmama was allowed near him, it was preffered. He wouldn't have known what to say anyways. There were less than memories, slightly more than the distant notes of a song configurated in a dream. Just the sticky feeling of something wrong and impure that couldn't get washed away by his water, or the showers water, or the ocean, or the rain. Just the franticly fading notes of humiliation, acidic pain, the loafers planted on either side of his tail and he couldnt even look up. Didn't want to anyways.
He did remember the aftermath, vividly.
He was kicked out, beaten and humbled, straight to an unknown street. He remembered too well the starchy humidity that day, the pull of irritated skin, the thick smell of blood that wouldn't clot because for one reason or another he was covered inside and out in water that wouldn't dry. And the night kissed the sun goodbye, waved her handkerchief across the sky, and the agonizing, muggy pain came right back. Thrashing, sobbing, crawling, trying to escape from his own body as it became foreign to him.
Blackout, wake up to the pure morning, and startle at the sight of a face right above his. Lie there and tremble while the cops are called over the black and blue fourteen year old boy in an alley way. Red hair, gray eyes, tall for his offered age, two arms, two legs, appeared to be powered. Match anyone? Herman Beck, deemed a runaway, found kidnapped. Only Herman didnt have powers. It was him, however, covered or not in water. Another unexplained mystery.
So Herman grew up, stalled and stunted, a problem child that barely matched the boy lost one week before. Grandmama never learned the full story, but fought the valiant battle right next to him until her lower body gave out to a stroke, and the rest of her followed with old age.
And Herman never said anything, but there was one more issue to stem from those nights he was gone. When the sun dipped below the horizon, and twilight seeped its deep holographic violet through the streets, Hermans body fell through its own violent pattern. Twisting, elongation of the spine, some horrific indescribable, perverted melding power rewiring his nerves. Blood vessles that popped and joined new hands, muscles fraying like velcro and running new lengths. Legs that melted together. Every night, he turned into what could only be described as a merman. A disgusting, contorted body just to become a little girls favorite mythological creature. Something he managed to hide by running off to the ocean every night, running straight back home every day. Despite it being his entire life, Herman tried to not think about it too much. Just tried not to think. Every day. and every night.
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Herman heaved for air as his boots pounded against the pavement. Right when he got home from work, the second he opened the front door, a small ragdoll saw a sliver of freedom and gave all it had for it. The little creature had a headstart and flexibility that warranted its escape, a silver platter of sunshine and rats for dinner. Herman had tossed his bag indoors, checked that the caretaker he was still a little paranoid over hadn't killed Grandma, and finally set out for the kitty. He was far, far too late, that much was obvious as the ticklish chatter of crickets gradually became audible through his harsh breathing. He had picked up speed, looked up and down, over and under everything throughout the streets nearby, and eventually launched into the full on sprint he was at now.
Herman knew damn well that in a house with twenty two cats and a halfway paralyzed grandma,
it really didnt matter if one single cat ran off. They usually came back anyways. But today Herman had
tripped, and stuttered, it was just like every other day when people around him slipped and he apologized over and over and over again, and he could barely hold the mop because he would start shaking over the small confrontation, and he'd have to force his breath to even out lest somebody else trips, because someone always does, again and again and again, so he ran. He couldn't save a person, could barely save a dirty floor tile, but God help him if he couldn't save a run away kitty.
Herman runs past streetlights flickering on, cars beggining to light the road with headlights, past the stitch in his side. The sun was fluttering its eyelashes, gracing the sides of tall buildings in one last farewell. The air rushing through Herman was humid, felt like it stuck to the inside of him more than flowed through blood. It was like breathing underwater, but he knew firsthand that was easier. His calves burned, the stitch nipped at him harder, and he puffed to a stop. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea where the runaway kitty was. God help him, he couldn't even save a cat.
Amber sunlight filled streetlamps, small bugs starting their performance around the lingering light. The buildings climbed higher, twisted and towered as the velvet night began to spill down their metal. The stitch in Hermans side gnawed a little harder. What the fuck is he gonna do. He swivled his head, seeing the same thing all around. Tall buildings growing taller in the shadows, a few passing cars switching their headlights on, a small park turning into vague silhouettes a bit further away. No kitty, no convenient body of water to hide through the night in, no home, no grandmama.
Hermans heart stilted in his chest, burning from the run and the rush of anxiety, and he dragged his hand through his hair. Resignation set in with the fading light. He started walking again, trying to not look too lost, and trekked on. Empty streets, turning a shade darker with each blink.
A ragged tearing sensation ran up his calf with the next step. He tried to ignore it, focusing on finding anywhere to hide instead. He could feel his hands begin to shake in tandom with each flutter of his heart, nerves picking up a vibration in his cells. His legs prickled underneath his suit, the dull pain humming louder with each passing second. Herman could barely hear over his own ragged heart, his thoughts beggining to whirl. Something darkner than the nightfall blurred the edges of his eyes, he couldnt breathe enough. He tripped over his own boot over the next stab of pain, the lightning fire of nerves flitting up to his thighs.
"Shit-" a muffled yelp broke through as he finally found some dingey alleyway to call home for the night. His hand dragged against the warm, damp brick wall as he forced his legs under him, just a couple more steps, just a little further in the shadows. The inky buildings loomed over him, wet fire escapes glistening up the sides. He gasped for damp air, his legs giving out underneath him. His whole body buzzed in pain, and he bowed over his crumpled legs, biting his knuckles through the gloves while his throat clenched.
His suit- he needed to get his suit off. He scrabbled at the tight zipper against his throat, numb fingers fighting to keep functioning. Getting a hold of the tiny peice of metal, he wrenched it down his chest just as the skin along his ribs tore open. Split apart in jagged lines that seared in the new rush of open air. Fluttered in tandem with his desperate breaths as he wrangled his arms out of the bright neoprene. Just as he yanked his arm free, he felt the first telltale creak of bones in his femurs, gritting his teeth.
"N-no, shit-" He gasped out, water spilling through his teeth. Mind fogging against the electric shockwaves pulsing through his entire body, he managed to kick his legs out in front of him.
shrrrrk
The first snap of bone crumpled the silent night in a gutteral tear, muffled by the flesh surrounding it.
Herman gulped down stomach acid gurgling past the water, screwing his eyes shut. The coppery taste of blood where he had bitten through his lip barely registered to him as he tore the legs of his suit down to his calves, forcing the kneepads down with it by pure will alone until he hit the edge of his boots.
A shattered sob forced past his lips as another snap of bones shattered through him, the base of his thighs pulling together. The flesh hummed as it began its bonding, irritating static firing as the matter molded into itsself, his heart skipping. He tore his boots off and threw himself backwards, back slamming into the grimey asphalt. Heatwaves flushed over him as he writhed against the grating rocks, hands scrabbling for purchase. He was pretty sure there was glass embeding itsself into his back but it was hardly on the front of his minds as the wet noise of flesh sticking itsself together shifted in his ears. A sound like the tear of velco doubled over the bruising shear racing down his legs, calves molding together. Muffled ringing filtered through his ears, the bleak dark buildings starting to dance. They stretched further and further, a spinning waltz that pulled with the growing ring. Stretched the same way his legs did, pulsing and tearing yet only pushing closer together.
Herman couldn't hear beyond the fuzzy cotton anymore, could barely make out the distant glow of the light polluted night beyond the sinking, whirling ink. The pain dulled to the background, nausea swirling to the forefront. Blurry, dark, and sill. Herman lost to the battle of his own autonomy.
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Sonar hawked some pleghm around the cigarette pinched between his teeth, spitting leftrover roach legs into the dirty street. The pale maroon light pollution glows slimily across the folding clouds, currents of stale city air turning the thick blanket. Weighted humidity fogged the night streets, amber steetlights settled against the vacant asphalt. Concrete buildings washed in blank shadows held tall, skyscrapers splitting the thick smog. It was hard to breath. The city's natural smoke screen, the heavy lull of night, all the water.
It clogged his ears that still buzzed with the teams excited chatter. No fights, shockingly, and no crypto sales either. But the team was loud enough to make up for lost physicality, slamming alchohol and cigarettes like it was the oxygen for the night. He walked on through the sombre dark, a balm over his eyes contrasting with the sensitivity through the day, smirking to himself.
Mal had left early to the apartment, saying something distantly about renewing portal strength. Not something he knew a whole lot about beyond the fact that she would usually reappear around six in the morning with a nasty little demonic rat for him to munch on. He might be slightly hooked on the guys, the viscous creatures of LA not really hitting the same. He spaced out as he walked, humming and clicking. The air was stagnant and heavy, pulsating rhythmically. Like the echoed steps of his shoes, the whoosh of air in and out of lungs. Like the shudder of a heart. Sonar paused.
Twisted his bitter cigarette, chittered into the air before going still as he could. The night was a dull blur, indigo streetlights smudging the screen. His echolocation didnt reveal much more. Buildings, buildings, a car, a small cat slinking by. Lucky he was full. He stayed put. Heavy air filled his ears, gloomily quiet for a city. A gurgle of water slipping by before going silent again. Sonar tilted his ears towards the water, there was something off about it. It wasn't like water spilling on concrete, or pourig anywhere. The shit sounded fleshy, in fact it made him think abt the few times he choked on vomit before being flipped on to his side. Not exactly, but similar enough.
He started on down the street, a slower pace this time, ears on a swivel to pinpoint the noise. Nothing, no more water, no more cat, then a ragged breath. Far off, even with his well graced hearing, the unsteady patter of a racing heart. The same water, gagged down a throat. Sonar, despite. every ability he knew he had, every advantage of brawns and brains, felt warm dread pinch its way down the back of his neck. Slowely, he walked forward, trying to pinpoint the noise. His fur bristled but he was a fucking hero, not some chud leaving people to die in their own spit, no matter how weirdly unnerving it sounded. He chirped again, still the same empty lull as before. But the heart beat was getting clearer. Skipping and frantic, pushing blood at a desperate rate. Something caused by rushing adrenaline, paired with the quick and shallow breathing. And the continued gurgle. Sonar would have been nervous (excited lets be real) he was about to stumble on someone giving out some wicked head if it weren't for the lack of any other movement. So overdose it was.
To be honest the erratic pace of the nearing heart reminded Sonar of SDN's janitor. He could always tell if they were about to cross paths because of the anxious speed of his pulse, but they had only interacted once. Kind of. Sonar had snuck up behind him, screeched in his ear, and pointed and laughed when the janitor yelped right back. Poor guy avoided him valiently after that. He knew Robert liked the guy, tried to invite him out for drinks with the team a couple times, which only yeilded a bright "N-no thanks!".
Sonar could admit he was completely trying to avoid thinking about the possibilities of what he was about to stumble on by thinking about the janitor. He chattered, vague shapes sharpening in his minds eye, passing down the road, through an alley way, under a car- Sonar pivotted on his heel, angling himself towards the alleway. The long, dark, deeply ominous, slightly wet, genuinely villainous alleyway where the heartbeat fluttered.
Sonar spat his stale cigarette onto the ground, braced himself to bolt, and crept into the yawning gap of buildings.
He picked up the frequency of his echolocation, mapping out the dingy spot. The pulse- not his own but the stangers- was rushing loudly in his ears now. Scabby walls closed around him, his own heart picking up a little, the greenish haze of light pollution dripping down from above. The ground was uneven, small bumps littering it. Trash graced the edges of the building, clinging to the sides like moist maggots. Shattered glass poked up around the ground, a puddle sliced by the shards. A gasp for breath, and Sonar found the source.
A figure, long and lone, spilled against the grimy allley floor like the puddle that surrounded them.
Sonar edged a little closer, still weary.
The stranger laid on their back, head tossed to the side, facing the wall they nearly touched. Maybe it was some crazy head. Spit bubbled through their throat. Insane head, then.
Something was off, though. The figure was absurdly long. A believable height on their upper half, before their lower half distorded and stretched out, small blurry lights glimmering along the length. Sonar rubbed his ears, maybe his echolocation was messed up somehow. But he was almost directly in front of them at this point, and it had never failed him before. They had a tail. There was a fucking mermaid in the middle of a dead alleyway nestled in the smoggy city streets of Torrance.
Their hips still gave way to thighs, just the idea of normal legs showing through before they dipped into a lithe stretch of flesh adorned by symetrical fins. Ran down the length, shadowed by smaller fins and spines, narrowing down further and further before blooming out into the sharp and dangerous curl of a sharks cuadal fin. And the flickering lights were no mistake either- there was something irridescent along the scales, something flourescent that waved in a dance with its owners pulse, dull but enough for Sonar to make out. He reeled, a little at a loss of what to do. The creature itsself wasnt so strange, like seriously Sonar himself was a hybrid bat, but honestly he had never seen a mermaid before. Merman. He would have never expected to see one, especially, this far from water. Or even a couch, to be honest, would have been far less shocking than seeing one shoved in the dirt like this. A hiccuped gurgle.
Sonar startled out of his suprise, checked the empty alley one more time for anything else, before sidling right up above the figure. Gently, slowely, he used the tip of his loafers to push the strangers head to be facing up. He felt bad about using his shoe like this, but knew if the thing woke up and decided it wanted a chunk of Sonar, that would feel alot worse. So he carefully pushed the cheek, man this guy had high cheekbones, faced him upwards, were those goggles?
Holy shit its the janitor.
vA lone cricket chirped in the distance while Sonar stared, appalled at the man below him. The janitor? Still wearing his goggles as was custom, but nearly more of a stranger now than he already was. He held up the fast pace of his high squeaks, watching the janitors chest, split open with gash-like gills, struggle to heave. Sonar dropped to one knee, danger forgotten, grabbing the Janitors damp shoulders and twisting him to his side. Only his upper portionfollowed this motion. A splatter of liquid gushed out of his mouth, only a mild note of acidity spiking in the air. The cricket fell silent, the humidity settled the air agai. A breath of quiet, until a harsh jolt wreaked the Janitors frame, a desperate gasp for air shattering the seal of the nocturne.
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Hermans eyes shot open, flashing in the shadows. His face was pressed against the rough, wet ground, he could see the hazy magenta buildings covering him. He could feel his tail twisting unnaturally, forced in the opposite direction of his torso. He could feel his head spinning, feel the cotton in his ears clear, and he could feel the warm hands pressed against his shoulder. He wrenched himself over to face the figure and before he could think about it, his teeth were digging into the same hand. Rough, course hair, almost fur-like scrapped the roof of his mouth, the bones creaked under his jaw.
"Woah- Shit-!"came from above him before he relenquished the bloody flesh, tossing himself backwards as much as he could. And even though he couldn't remember, he knew it felt the same. Stuck in a body he couldn't call his own, the man in a business suit jumping up, standing over him, the nausea building up against all the wounds in his back. Sticky city humidity clogging his nose that couldnt get enough air for the enlarged body. And he couldn't look up.
Didn't want too, anyways.
And he crumpled, gasping breaths breaking the silence and tears broke free. He leaned slowly until his stomach was on the ground, wrapping his arms vice-like around himself, let his goggles scrape against the sludgy asphalt. He cowered. It was the same.
Ten years had passed, and every night he faced the aftermath of that week, every night his body became unrecognizable, he became something that needed to hide rather than someone who needed to fight. But now it was the same. The gritty texture of filth rubbing against his body, some man towering above him, the humidity nulling the oxygen. No one could save him, and he knew he couldn't save himself.
He curled up as much as he could without dragging the tail up, grasped his arms tighter, heaved for air. He knew how pathetic this was but for all he knew he was about to die, or something so filthy would happen he would be left to wish that he had. Im not here, Im not here.
He flinched when he felt a hand brush his shoulder again, but let it be this time. A throat cleared. vibrations passed over his skin.
"You uhh, come around here often?" Hermans breath stilted. Was he joking? He didnt look up. "Man i'm not really sure, uh, what exactly to do in this situation. They don't teach this in Harvard, haha. . ." The hand gently wrapped around his shoulder, starting to pull him back upwards. He screwed his eyes shut again.
"Probably help to not drown in alleyway spew though." He tried to not breath so hard as if that would make the man actively pulling him up not notice him, baseline instinct. Jolted his eyes open when one of the hands patted his face, looking at the overhang of smog again.
"Hey, dude, you gotta breath." Herman knew whatever happened at this point, it was wraps anyways, so did what he couldn't when he was fourteen. He looked at the man above him, and it wasn't a man at all. Something like a bat was crouched over him sideways, comedically large ears blocking out some of the sky. The business suit clued him in now- it was Sonar. A member of the Pheonix team, a villain turned hero. He was pretty sure he had screeched right behind his ear one time, so he never made an effort to talk to him in particular. The world swayed when to Hermans suprise, Sonar started lifting him up into a sitting position as much as he could. Herman didn't do anything to help, both too suprised and too busy at fighting the shiver passing through his stomach. And now he was ackwardly propped up against Sonars side, Sonars arm thrown across his shoulders, tail stretched out limp in front of the both of them. They faced away from the entrance, looking further into the cavity of industy. A cricket picked up its chirping somewhere outside the alley. Herman thought about the ragdoll cat.
Thought about how he didn't know Sonar at all. Yeah, he was a hero, but he had been a villain. There was the add on that Herman had no idea what would happen if it got revealed that he was a hybrid. Nothing bad, probably, maybe, but you couldn't be sure. Anxiety flushed over his skin, water spilling out harshly for a moment.
He swallowed harshly, vibrations fluttering across his skin again.
"W-what. . .are you gonna- you doing?" He grated out shakily. Sonar shifted slightly.
"Dude I'm gonna be honest. I have no idea." Herman chewed on his cheek. He lifted a trembling hand and slowly pulled the goggles off his head, the gathered water spilling out as his hands dropped back down. Sonar puffed out his cheeks.
"Do I have to like, find a pond to put you in?" Herman shook his head slightly.
"No, not really."
"Alright."
Another cricket picked up the first ones tempo, the two of them chirping the quiet away. Herman was exhausted. If it werent for the light pull of anxiety, and the entire stuck in a random alley with a random man situation, he would probably be passed out by now. Long ago, in fact. Breathing was still difficult. The frills meant to sift out water and oxygen were stuck together like wet fibers. No oxygen passed through, and his nose was barely enough to cover for his entire body. It was like having one blocked up nostril, and the other full of snot. Barely enough. Vibrations feathered over him again.
"Have you ever thought about looksmaxxing?" Sonar peered at him. Herman just furrowed his eyebrows back.
"Huh?"
"Looksmaxxing. You have like, the ultimate anteface." The cricket was back down to one, no telling if it was the original or not.
"Uhm. . .No, n-not really. .." Herman pretended to know what the man holding him up was talking about. He stifled a yawn. The alleyway yawned back.
"I was serious, earlier, you know. About if you do this often. I guess more like, is this normal?"
Herman pushed to think past the simmering fatigue.
"Uhh.. I guess, n-not- well not in an alley, but t-the uhm. The tail. Every d- night." Sonar clicked in response.
"Woah, I can transform too" He flashed a sideways smile at Herman through the dark. "Must be a trait of us alpha males. The average beta could never understand." Herman just slowy nodded. Sonar went on. "To be real with you, I couldn't always. Got taken by some generically mad scientist or something when I was still a nose picker, and then- man. I don't even know. Just didn't wake up the same. Wasn't the same human, I guess. ." He paused. ". maybe still the same person. sorry. totally crashed our vibe." Vibrations purred through the alleyway. But Herman was looking at Sonar now. Eyes reflecting the glimmering flourescence of his own tail.
"W- what are-do you mean?" Sonar glanced back at him.
"Well geeze I guess uhh. I guess I was a teenager. And just- some wickedly evil scientist decided I was the ideal test subject." He sighed. "Combined my genes with a bats or some bullshit. Sewed a bats head on a kids body." He huffed out a halfhearted laugh. "I dont even know. Dunno why. threw me straight out right after." Herman was breathing a little faster now, throat constricting.
"Uh-uhmm.." He had never told anyone. Didn't remember. He didnt even remember. Thought about the cat. Her name was Raggy. "I-" He shuddered, pausing before ge even started "S-Same- I think. I was fourteen and j-just- gone. And when I ma-came back, I was like- stuck like this. At night." The crickets friend came back, the harmony turning sleepy as the humidity of the day finally began to wane. Sonar shuffled next to him.
"huh." and they were quite for a bit. Listened to the crickets and occasional car pass by. "You want me to take you anywhere else? Dont really know how that would work but I'm kind of the AMOG team wise so I'd mix a little something up for you." Herman shook his head.
"I'll be ok by morning." And Sonar hummed in response. He could have left by now, left the dirty dingy alleyway with its dirty dingy janitor additive. He had demon rats due at six am anyways. But he was a hero now. He had worth to prove, even if it wouldn't show on a leader board. Had something important to stick around for. Someone who probably knew the feeling of a human conscious smarter than an animals body. Maybe he could eat one of the crickets if they stuck around.
Herman should have fought by now. Should have kept biting, clawing, whatever he could. But he did fight. Fought to give up the compliant acceptance of forgetting what had happened to him, the surrender to find peace. He slowely, gratingly, curled his lightly flashing tail up to Sonars stretched out legs, around to their backs. Vibrations pattered agaisnt them. His head nodded for a moment, the crickets persistent on and off lull lifting the weight dusk had brought.
Sonar had struck up conversation again, and they whispered through the dark about whatever came to mind. He brought up his villainous heists, and Herman had smiled, bringing up his own pass through in crime to pay for his grandmothers needs. Sonar scoffed, saying it wasn't really crime if is was to save some old woman. He had just wanted coke, personally. Their voices dropped, they wondered together if they were taken by the same man. Too much added up, so yeah, probably. They moved on, Sonar talking about the Pheonix team, and how the name was way too sigma for the state of its participants. Herman talked about how he was pretty sure one of the members drove over him on the day of his interview. In fact he knew exactly who it was. Sonar talked about Mal and their petty street vandalism pointing cars the wrong way.
The crickets went to bed, the inky black of a night they could both see through starting to wash away in the first hint of morning sun. Herman had politely asked Sonar to look away, which he complied to even if he completely used his echolocation to check out what was happening. Hear, practically felt himself, the familiarity of bones wetly crumbling and reforming, skin splitting apart into two long legs bearing large keloid scars that really, only an evil scientist would have left. And they stumbled up and, both looking like shit, headed back off to work together.
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Things were steady at SDN. Shroud threatened world corruption, the heros fought the waves. Sonar, through the weeks, conducted his own research. Found out there had been, in fact, a generically evil scientist. He had been suspected of the kidnappings of multiple children, whos identities were under protection. Yet it was released that horrifically, the children would come back hybrid. There was never enough evidence to link him to the missing children, but everyone who knew the case also knew it was him anyways. In fact, the man had practically confessed himself, saying that, you know, its not me, but if I were to kidnap and genetically alter a bunch of children, it would probably be to make a survivalist army built on animal instincts and the compliancy of children. Probably, if it didnt work, would have just tossed them right out cause theres no point in holding on to accidents. So yeah, even with an entire confession, the legal system kept him safe. The man dissapeared after all the accusations, but Sonar knew himself through bankstatements and digital footprint, theres only so many places to stay anonymous.
And, to the teams suprise, he and the company janitor started talking more. Small, almost secretive interactions that no one could make out. In fact, Sonar made a public team announcement that he was officially relenquishing his position as the Top Sigma Male- a title now gifted to the janitor. The team had gotten nosy enough to poke around the janitor, see what Sonars goal was, but lost interest after the first couple stuttered greetings.
Flambe found his tires slashed multiple times.
And Shroud grew in power, the leader board became more disjointed.
Hermans cat never came back home.