In defense of… everything… past life regression sounded like a fun idea.
But Ellis is floating upside down, her “Pinkety Sparkle” powers suddenly overshadowed by the reality of a fireworks incident twenty years before.
Mark is lying in a puddle of his own tears, but he can breathe underwater and that’s just fine with him. He’s coping.
And you.
You’re just sitting there. In this chair, with your hands still on the mandala printed tablecloth and…
Well.
You make eye contact with the girl who can see into the past.
“I never looked at my own,” she tells you, “so I don’t know what causes past life-vision.”
“Hindsight is twenty twenty?” You make it a joke but she doesn’t smile.
“What are you going to do now?” She folds her hands on her lap, eyes on her purple nail polish. She doesn’t want to look at you. Which is fair. You’re not sure what she’d see anymore.
Your fingers sharpen into glossy black claws and you stare at them thoughtfully. You know what you look like fully transformed. You know about your mouth with its second detachable jaw inside, your claws the size of dinner knives, your intense vision that can see in colors you can’t describe to anyone else.
“I don’t remember anything about- this in the press release,” you look at your claws as they retract into human fingers. Fingers that definitely only a human would have.
“Are there others like me?” You look sharply up, and your eyes shimmer with colors into the ultraviolet spectrum. You can see the heat of the woman’s heart increase as she gets more nervous.
“I’ve never heard of anyone transforming into anything… not of earth.” She looks to your friends, but Mark is still near comatose and Ellis is in the stratosphere.
But you.
You’re still on Mars.
“I’m going to blow this wide open,” you tell the room at large. “Our whole expedition was killed by- by-” your fingers lengthen into claws and you swallow harshly, curling them into lethal fists.
“People need to know about this,” you say in a growl. “People deserve to know what’s out there.” And what killed you and all your friends.
“There’s no way to find the others from the Mars mission,” Ellis says like she’s been paying attention the whole time.
“There’s one way,” you say grimly, letting the ochre fur rustle over your back, splitting the clothing off as your arms become muscular and powerful. Your hips rotate backward as you rise off the chair into a crouch.
“Something did make it back from the Mars mission,” you snarl. “And she wants the world to know it.”