Myths Made Real

Ewan felt the bumpy texture of his basketball he dribbled against the tips of his fingers. Nimbly they caught his hand before he sent it again to the ground. The sound of it colliding with the sidewalk marked the tempo of his steps.

Even after a decade, he and his best friend still shared their tradition of walking home together.

“I’m telling you, you should try out,” Damon said. “You would be put on the team just like that!”

He snapped his fingers.

“I dunno,” Ewan said, not missing a beat as his basketball kept its steady tempo. “I’m not in it to win. I don’t want to worry about being competitive. Plus, running and I aren’t friends.”

“You can nail almost any shot from anywhere on the court,” Damon insisted. “You wouldn’t have to run.”

“You know nothing of basketball mate.”

“I know you’re good at it.”

Ewan waved the compliment away with a smile. “Even if I wanted to, there’s still Larae.” His smile faltered.

Damon nodded, his grin fading to concern. “How is she?”

“Better,” Ewan said. “She’s home from the hospital for now, though she’ll be going back in a week or two for more tests.”

“Have they figured out what’s wrong?”

Ewan shook his head. “They think it’s genetic or some sort of auto-immune thing, but they don’t know what specifically. We’re still looking.”

“That’s rough, especially for a four-year-old.”

“Yeah.” The basketball slowed as an unremarkable gray car drove past on Ewan’s left, slow and meandering. It seemed lost, maybe trying to find an address.

“I gotta be available to help out, Dad has no one else,” Ewan continued. “He’s watching her right now, but you know he works afternoons. After school basketball practice is just not possible. Today’s his day off so that’s why I could hang with you at the park.”

“I get it.” Damon sighed. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“Me too.”

“You know,” Damon said, “I did just get that new TTRPG set, uh, Endless Night. There’s a one-shot in it if you wanna do that later at your place.”

“For real? Heck yeah. You gonna be player or master?”

“Player, I got some other guys who’d be willing to play if you master. You got a good head for that lore stuff.”

“Sure. Do you know if— LOOK OUT!”

Ewan grabbed Damon and shoved him aside as tires screeched. The gray car had jumped the curb, barreling towards them. Flinging himself onto the nearest lawn, Ewan stumbled and fell, slipping on grass still wet from a sprinkler. Doors slammed, and Ewan glanced behind him to see who they were.

Standing above him, blocking the sun as a shadowed eclipse, was a man Ewan didn’t recognize. Before he could so much as take a breath, the man grabbed him by the arm, with enough force to feel it through his jacket, and hauled Ewan up. A shout told Ewan that Damon was being treated much the same.

“Let us go!” Damon protested, kicking and punching at the man holding him, but making little headway.

Shrugging, Ewan slipped out of his jacket’s sleeve, leaving the man holding nothing but the garment. Running to Damon, Ewan tackled the man restraining his best friend. Damon tumbled free and stood back up, fists raised as Ewan pulled the man to the ground.

“Get help!” Ewan shouted, “Damon, get—”

Letting out a grunt of pain, Ewan felt a shove from behind, and the man he tackled rolled. Gravel and concrete pressed against Ewan’s back.

“But Ewan—”

“GO!”

Damon hesitated, then ran for the nearest house.

By the time he came back with police, Ewan was gone.

A bright light dragged Ewan to awareness, pressuring his eyes to open.

A lamp like those he’d seen in the operating room when he got his wisdom teeth out was above him, merciless in its cold, white shine.

Where am I?

He tried to wipe sleep from his eyes only to find his wrists were bound to a sterile, steel table by padded cuffs. His ankles were similarly restrained. A metal band held his head still.

The table wasn’t level, but rather angled so his feet were lower and his head was raised. It wasn’t steep and the restraints kept him in place. The cold metal was uncomfortable but not freezing, so Ewan suspected he’d been here for at least a short while, his body warming it. Someone had dressed him in a flimsy hospital gown.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

No answer.

Closing his eyes again, Ewan struggled to piece together how he got here. He’d been walking with Damon, going home, then, a fight? Yes, that sounded right. A tackle, then a pinch in his arm. Ewan opened his eyes and angled his eyes to look at the spot. There was a small bruise there, not dissimilar to one given by a needle, though it was also swollen. It still hurt too, and his skin felt feverish all along that arm. A heat that was spreading.

Did tranquilizers do that?

Ewan looked up at the ceiling, then at the walls. All were a sterile white, apathetic and clean, save for the wall his feet faced. There was a door there, and a mirror spanned the space above it. He felt exposed, like something behind the mirror was looking down at him. A one-way mirror, perhaps, like the ones in those cop shows.

“Hello? Is someone back there?”

An intercom crackled to life beneath the mirror, and this time Ewan was answered.

“Awake I see. That’s odd, you should have been out for a few more hours. A pity for you. Metabolism is so unpredictable.”

“Who are you?” Ewan asked. “What do you want with me? Where am I?”

“You are in my facility,” the voice said, his tone chipper, like a tour guide excited to show guests around his favorite attraction. “My name is not important, but you may call me Dr. Avalon. It’s accurate enough. As for what I want with you, your genetics are ideal for a project I’ve been working on.”

Ewan frowned. This could not be good.

“How did you even get my genes?”

The voice chuckled. “The genome project your school ran was most informative. Normally, I would not go after one who has the connections you do -loving family, a few friends, yada yada- but the odds of finding another so perfectly suited for this project were slim.”

“And what am I ‘perfectly suited’ for?” Ewan’s voice sounded stronger than he felt.

“I am bringing to life things that once walked the earth in our legends and folklore. So many scorned the possibilities. They said ‘dragons never existed’ and ‘unicorns are just a legend,’ but they are wrong! Of course, these glorious beings are all extinct now, such a pity, but if modern science can bring back the dire wolves from their descendants, I thought why not take it further?”

Ewan’s confusion only grew. Dragons and unicorns? Were they still talking about the same thing? The manic ramblings of the voice grew in excitement as the rant continued, talking of mutagenic serums, ancient texts, animal DNA, insults his colleagues named him, and soon the young man was lost among the madman’s words. All the while, the heat in his arm spread across his body, and Ewan’s discomfort grew as nausea set in, and sweat dripped down his face. Something was wrong.

“But I digress,” Dr. Avalon said, his voice dismissive of whatever he’d been saying. “Your readings indicate you’re primed and ready for the catalyst serum. I’m sorry for the pain you are about to endure, but, you did wake up much too early so, really, it’s your own fault.”

A quiet whir caught Ewan’s attention before he could wonder much about what the man was talking about. Descending from the ceiling was a needle attached to a robotic arm. Its movements were quick but precise, and it descended below the table and behind Ewan.

Fear grew within Ewan, and he began to fight his restraints. The table’s angle grew steeper, and there was a draft at the back of Ewan’s neck. An opening.

“Are you insane?! Let me go! Stop! HELP!”

“Insane? You’re just like my old colleagues. They had been the first subjects, you know, and I learned quickly that older humans are too mentally rigid for the mutagenic serum to work properly. They just die instead. You, however, are perfect. Your body is strong and young, sturdier than a fragile child, but you are not yet fully grown, nor is your brain fully developed. There is room for something new and marvelous.”

Ewan continued to fight, but the restraints had no give. The whir stopped; the needle must be lined up. Ready.

No way out.

“I must thank you for your sacrifice. I even envy you. You will have power and majesty beyond any human. You will be fantastical.”

A sharp pain was jabbed into Ewan’s neck, and he felt it enter his spine. Agony immeasurable surged like fire through his body, spreading to each nerve like a burning shock of lightning. His back arched, and he flailed, his scream silent compared to the ringing in his ears.

The pain faded a little as the needle pulled away. Ewan’s restraints opened, letting him slide to the floor where he sought for the door with frantic eyes. His bones ached, and he attempted to crawl to that door, to escape, to flee. His breaths came in pants, and his head swam. With a grab that made it feel as though his muscles were tearing, Ewan gripped the handle.

Locked.

If Dr. Avalon said anything more, Ewan heard it not as new sensations emerged besides the pain. Managing to haul himself to his hands and knees to try and force the door open, Ewan felt it before he saw it. It was as though he was covered in itching nettle welts as charcoal gray fur sprouted along his arms, back, and other appendages.

“What- what’s happening-?! What—?!” Ewan’s words became snarls and howls as his mouth filled with teeth that weren’t his. His voice deepened and became a growl, yelping as he lost his balance and fell on his side. His legs cramped as the bones cracked and reshaped their lengths and dimensions while his muscles tried to keep up. Ewan rolled onto his back as his arms endured the same misery, though to a lesser extent. He watched his hands warp, becoming talon-like paws, and the same happened to his toes as his feet went from plantigrade to digitigrade.

The pain only grew as his head lengthened, his nose and mouth tapering away from the flatness of Ewan’s face, spots flashing in his eyes. When pain exploded along his tailbone and burst from his back, his mind could take it no more. The last thing he saw as the gift of unconsciousness lulled him to rest was his reflection in the one-way mirror.

Glowing embers looked back.

Thirst and hunger were the first sensations Ewan recovered from his time drifting in oblivion. The primal needs surpassed the mental guard of his weariness and pain, and, with reluctance, Ewan opened his eyes.

He was laying on a strange cushion, reminiscent of a dog bed, and a moment passed as he tried to piece together where he was and how he got here. Had it all been a dream? No, the white wall was still there, though this one was different. Less clean, but no less uncaring. One of the other walls was made of metal, horizontal, hinged panels. A garage door perhaps, or something like one. Nothing Ewan could open. The whole room felt like a kennel, with him as the wretch inside.

Drawing in a breath, Ewan tried to get up, smelling water nearby. It was a heavenly aroma to his parched, dry mouth, and his first priority was to find it and indulge.

Moving proved to be a challenge, for his body did not respond to him the way it ought to, but his desperation was strong and he reached the trough through a mix of rolling, crawling, and dragging. The water had the tang of sanitization, bitter with the lingering chemicals used to clean it. He thrust his face in, gulping down as much as his stomach could endure.

Once thirst was addressed, he leaned on the side of the trough as the water settled, panting. His distorted reflection in its surface began to smooth, and Ewan’s breath caught as he got a glimpse of it.

That’s not my face.

Staring out of the water was not the red-haired, green-eyed high-school senior he watched grow up in his bathroom mirror and selfies. It wasn’t the one he’d had during his senior portrait photoshoot just a month ago. Nor the one that blew out eighteen candles during his last birthday party.

At first glance, Ewan thought he was looking at a wolf. It had many of the same features; dark gray fur, a snout, teeth, and a lolling tongue. But that tongue was forked at the end, and ridged horns sat between his pointed ears, bending back and up again at the tips. Scales the color of dark orange and red were scattered where the fur was thinner, and the fur was toned in the same colors when the light hit it, giving it a metallic luster. Burning eyes were set in the face with slit pupils, and small spikes lined the corners of the jaw.

Ewan opened his mouth wider, and the wolf creature did the same. He closed it, and the wolf did too. He tilted his head, then the other way, then lowered himself before stretching up again. The wolf did the same.

Not the wolf.

Him.

What happened to me? Ewan thought. He tried to say it to himself out loud, but all he heard was a growl and whine. His ears lowered, and he backed away from the trough, looking down at his hands as his memory returned fully with a jolt.

The talons. The fur. The pain.

It had all been real.

Turning and twisting, Ewan tried to get a proper look at himself. A flash to the side drew his attention, and he saw light reflecting off another one-way mirror. It took up the majority of the wall on the opposite side from the metal one.

Studying his reflection there, as it was clearer than what the water showed, Ewan felt a lump in his throat.

A tufted, draconic tail swayed behind him, and two scaly wings were folded awkwardly at his sides behind a burnished, almost lion-like mane. Spikes ran down his back, and his paws had more scales than fur on them with clawed talons.

Ewan closed his eyes. Maybe he could just wake up and find out he’d been hit in the head when walking home, and was now hallucinating.

The alternative was inconceivable.

He opened his eyes.

The inconceivable was still there.

As he studied his reflection, which now looked cowed and distraught, Ewan noticed something else in the corner.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

Ewan, with some trial and error, padded over to the small array of buttons on the floor. They were labeled with unhelpful words. Hungry, Thirsty, Toy, Lights On/Off, Park; but none had the words he needed. Where was Why, What, How, Where?

A note taped above the buttons caught his attention, and he sat to read it with suspended woe and increasing ire.

‘Welcome to Imagined Labs, Ewan! Yes, we know who you were. We’re sure you have some questions about your exciting new future, so we’ve left you this complimentary letter. You are now part of the greatest scientific achievement in history, bringing one of the many enchanted creatures of our world’s past back to life. You are our alphyn; a creature that is part wolf, dragon, and lion. Our serum was tailored to your genetic code, rewriting it to capture the majesty of the creature you now embody. Take heart to know that your insignificant life now has significance beyond imagining. If you need anything, use the buttons to let us know. Thank you for your contribution to our research.’

And he thought his reflection had been dehumanizing.

Ewan reread the letter, then snarled and slashed at it with his new claws, leaving parallel gashes in the paper and accidentally hitting the ‘Park’ button.

Clank!

Ewan jumped and turned as the metal wall lifted and opened, ratcheting. Light poured in, and for a moment his spirit filled with hope, thinking it was the sun welcoming him to freedom outside. Then the glare faded.

An expanse of hills covered in artificial turf spanned under a vast dome, with many doors like his own lining the surrounding wall. Structures like cat trees were erected in some places, and others had pools of water. A massive basking light was set up over some plain, flat rocks, and there were some covered dens made of some similar material to the trees. An indoor park with places to climb, run, or rest.

But what stood out to Ewan most were the inhabitants.

Most parks had humans and the occasional dog walking on a leash. This park had the impossible. He saw a unicorn, dragon, griffon, pegasus, kelpie, manticore- Ewan stopped trying to identify them all. There were simply too many.

The door clanged to a stop in the ceiling above Ewan, and he flinched, his ears folding back at the startling noise. He then looked out at the park again. With the shining white walls, the place didn’t look depressing, but as Ewan stepped onto the plastic grass with a taloned paw, it didn’t matter.

It was still his prison.

And based on how many of the doors were labeled ‘Awaiting New Arrivals!’ it didn’t look like he would be the newest inmate for long.