Basketball

by Ryan Hoffman

Nick's camera clicked and hummed at the sound of his spent roll. Opening the back of the camera, he took the used canister out and pocketed it. Reaching into his other pocket, he pulled a new roll of film out and loaded it into the camera, which clicked and whirred, letting him know it was ready to take more pictures.

Nick was a yearbook photographer, and he didn't really like what he did. None of his pictures were really good, but that didn't stop him from trying to show his editors that he could indeed take some decent rolls of film.

'They had better like these' he thought to himself as he stepped down to the sidelines. Getting on one knee, he pointed the camera at the star player of his high school basketball team, Chris. Nick couldn't help but think that he looked a lot like the athlete he was taking pictures of. Both of them had blonde hair and a light complexion. Both were also fairly tall. The main differences were the hairstyle (the players hair was spiked and Nick's lay flat on his head in a part), and the other was size. Even Nick was taller than Chris; Chris was bigger, MUCH BIGGER. It looked like he had spent many an hour in the school weight room.

The photographer eyed the scoreboard, and saw that Chatfield was winning. This brought a sense of great joy to Nick, not only because he went to Chatfield, but also because if they won this game, their opponent (Sydner) would be out of the playoffs and Chatfield would take their place. There was absolutely no way Sydner would catch up either. With it being halfway through the 3rd quarter, and Chris scoring points every minute, they were well far ahead.

A time out was called and the by Sydner. Nick could see the anger in the coach’s eyes as he told Sydner's team what to do. Obviously, it was going to be something desperate, if Sydner wanted to win this game with how far they are behind.

The break was called and the players took their positions on the court. The single referee was watching as Chatfield threw the ball back into play. But something wasn’t right about the game this time. Nick saw why. One of the Sydner players walked behind the ref and knocked him off his feet. The ref stumbled, and started yelling at the player, who tried to look as innocent as he possibly could. And then, it happened. Two Sydner players converged on a Chatfield player; Brian Jones to be exact, and double rammed his side, sending him sailing to the ground. There was a defining snap of his wrist breaking as he hit the ground. The player cringed in pain, holding his swollen appendage.

The referee stopped arguing with the youth, and ran to the scene. But, since he hadn't seen anything, he said he couldn't call a penalty. A new player was called off the bench, and the game continued.

Whatever Sydner had planned, it seemed to be working. Somehow, the referee was distracted, and the players were smashed, smacked, pushed, and whacked, causing injuries that kept the players from continuing play. The injuries added up to be a total of: 2 broken wrists, a broken arm, and a broken collar bone. In the end, all the players had been called off the bench, and all their spares had been used up. If one more injury occurred, they would be forced to forfeit.

What puzzled Nick was that the star-player, Chris, had not been attacked yet. Chris had remained busy, though, scoring numerous points while the Sydner team was busy injuring his teammates. His light complexion was bright red with exasperation. Sweat trickled down his forehead, now soaked by the salted water that had poured from his pores. His silver jersey was plastered to his muscular frame by the sweat. He breathed heavily through his mouth to keep up with his quickly beating heart.

Nick watched the Sydner players, waiting for them to make their next move. And then, it happened. This time it involved four players. While one of the Sydner players had the ball, two others started cursing at the ref about a play that had never happened. The player that had the ball kept everyone busy, while the two others converged on Chris, ready to finish what they had started. Chris realized this, and tried to get away, but it was to late. They tripped him while he was running at full force, and he fell to the ground, his head banging against the hard floor. There was a gurgling groan, which came from Chris' mouth, and he lay there, motionless, unconscious.

The referee, still distracted by the other players, pushed them away, and ran over to Chris, turning to everyone.

"What happened?"

The team fell silent, as did the crowd.

"What happened?"

Two players from the Sydner team stepped forward and said simply, "He tripped over the ball when he tried to steal it."

Chatfield murmured to each other, and then shouted their objections.

"He was pushed!"

"They tripped him!"

"They are lying to you!"

The referee turned his head to Chris, and then back to both teams. But again, he didn't see what happened. He said, "Unless Chatfield finds another player, they will have to forfeit and Sydner will take the victory."

The Chatfield team dropped their jaws.

"You have 10 minutes to find a replacement player."

The Chatfield team glanced over to the Snyder team, who was patting each other on the back and smiling. They thought the game was theirs.

Nick had seen the whole things. He was gawking at referee's decision. He watched as the Sydner teams congratulated each other while the Chatfield team picked up Chris and headed for the locker room.

Nick shook his head sadly, thinking, 'This game is over.' He headed out the same doors as the Chatfield team just in time to see them disappear into the locker room. He stopped outside the locker room doors, putting his camera away, folding up his tripod. Nick heard the team inside the locker room murmuring to each other. One team member stepped outside, a glum look on his face. He was obviously going to tell the coach that they had decided to forfeit. But the instant he saw Nick, his eyes went wide, and he dashed back into the locker room. There was a hurried bunch of whispers, and all four players stuck their heads out the doorway.

Things were getting really creepy, so Nick just decided to leave.

"Hey kid," he heard one of the players call, "Come here!"

Nick paid no attention to what they were saying, and kept walking, content on leaving. But he was stopped by hands around his waist. Two hands went around his mouth as he was picked up and dragged back to the locker room. The hand that covered his mouth muffled his screams. His kicks were no match for the powerful teens that dragged him into the locker room.

The door slammed shut, and Nick was placed down on top of a wooden bench. The room was lined with silver and burgundy lockers, and the air smelled heavily of body odor. The basketball team sat on the other free benches; their jersey's soaked heavily with sweat, while two kept their grip on Nick. Chris lay on a bench in the back, still unconscious.

"What are you doing? He needs a doctor."

"If we took him to a doctor," said one of the more burly players, "we would have to forfeit."

"It doesn't matter!" Nick contradicted, thinking they were hoping Chris would come to, "He's not going to come to in the next 10 minutes. And even if he did, he wouldn't be feeling good enough to play."

This didn't seem to change the moods of the people who had surround. They seemed to be staring at his blonde hair.

"He would be a perfect temporary replacement."

Nick was puzzled at the previous statement. What did they mean by replacement? Replacement for what?

One of the players went over to the unconscious Chris and removed his uniform, leaving Chris in his boxers.

As Nick was starting to catch on, one of the players shouted, “No! It won’t work. We can’t trick the referee.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Nick shouted, shaking his hands in a way that said NO WAY, “There is absolutely no way I am going to play basketball out there. I have no sports know-how whatsoever.”

The players exchanged looks for a little bit, but continued their forward motion. Tearing Nick’s shirt off, they slid the jersey over his thin frame. And even with all the kicking, they still managed to remove his jeans to slip on the silver shorts.

And Nick was in the uniform, head to toe. The jersey was disgustingly dirty feeling, and it smelled heavily of perspiration. But the burly player still thought something was missing. Reaching into Chris’ bag, he revealed a long, black comb, which he started rearranging Nick’s hair with.

Three cans of hairspray later, he looked just like Chris, except he was much thinner. The two players that had restrained him had done their jobs well, because during the entire ordeal, all Nick was able to do was give them evil and disgusted looks.

“Whether I am wearing the jersey and have the same hair style, it doesn’t change the fact that I am not capable of playing basketball. I am not fast enough, strong enough, and I can’t even jump a foot off the ground.”

Nick hoped his story would convince the players to let him go, but the burly player just went back to Chris’ bag and removed a jug of green liquid. Nick didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t like it.

“No way Mark!” said the same player who had objected earlier, “We can’t…it wouldn’t…he’s just…”

Mark shot an evil glance to his objector. “Do you want to win or not?”

The player turned away, not again making eye contact with Nick or Mark, and not wanting to speak anymore.

Mark removed the cap and smelled the contents, and then bringing the jug to Nick’s mouth. The green liquid slid into his mouth, and when Mark removed the tip of the bottle, he spat it out onto the floor.

“Swallow it!” Mark shouted as he turned the bottle upside-down, letting the contents (the bottle was still half full) into Nick’s mouth. Nick didn’t swallow, and his tongue burned at the putrid taste of the frothy liquid.

“Swallow.”

Mark held Nick’s mouth closed, so he couldn’t spit it out anymore. He couldn’t intake any air with all the liquid that was in his mouth. So he had no choice. Swallow or suffocate. He let the liquid slide down his thought.

The liquid was vile, tasting a lot like pure alcohol. Nick gasped for air, having held his breath for nearly a minute.

“Go tell the referee we are ready to play!” Mark shouted. By now, the objector had turned around again, and saw the empty bottle in Mark’s hand and the trail or green liquid trickling down the corner of Nick’s mouth.

“What…Why…but Mark…that stuff is concentrated. You need to dilute it with at least a cup of water.”

“He is going to need it if he is going to play like our star player.”

Nick’s mind was stirring around and around. Was that stuff some kind of steroid? Something that was detectable that he could be punished for. And what if he was caught? Nick had still made up his mind. He was not going to play.

“I still won’t do it.” He said simply.

“You will do it,” Mark threatened, “Unless you want us to go tell the coach that you are in here in Chris’s uniform. He won’t take well to that.”

“But you…” Nick said in return, only to stop himself. They were right. Who was the Coach going to believe? His star basketball players or a kid in Chris’s Uniform.

“Alright…” Nick muttered, “I’ll do it…I’ll play…”

Mark’s face turned a twisted smile as he slapped Nick on the back, “Good decision.”

The messenger returned, “Play will resume in 2 minutes.”

“Then it’s time to finish the game.”

The two people who had restrained Nick let go, and Nick stood up. All the players started heading for the door. Mark led Nick outside to the gym, and they started taking their place on the court.

“I told you before, I can’t play!” Nick whispered to Mark.

Mark didn’t reply, he just gestured to the spot Nick was supposed to stand.

The game started as Sydner threw the ball back into play and started making a break for the basket. All the players started chasing after him, and Nick instinctively followed. He tried his best to act like he knew what he was doing, but he knew people could tell there was something different about the way he played.

“Chris!!”

Nick was presuming Mark was referring to him, so he quickly turned to hum, only to find the ball rocketing at his hands. Nick caught it and stood asking himself ‘Why Me? Why did they pass it to ME?’

“Go!’ Mark shouted, shaking Nick out of his standstill. And Nick was running towards the other end. He closed his eyes at the exhilaration as he tore across the court. He felt faster than he expected to be, and it felt good to know no one would be catching up to him. He came to the end of the court, and looked around for someone to pass to. But the players were trying to keep Sydner off Nick.

“Shoot it!”

Nick looked up at the basket. He was at an angle that if he shot it, it would just ricochet right off. If Sydner regained control possibly scoring another two points to win the game. With a tie score on the board, they would pull ahead.

Nick started dribbling, and running around, trying to find an open player once more to pass to, still not confident of his abilities to shoot the ball.

“Jump!” Mark shouted, as a Sydner player broke past him and started darting towards Nick. Nick had little time to think. He took a glance back up at the hoop. He had never humped that high before. The Sydner player was closer now, and Nick felt he had no choice. He leapt off the floor and gasped at how high he went. He easily reached the hoop and let the ball slide into the basket. A cheer went up in the crowd and amongst the Chatfield players as Nick came setting back on the ground, the basketball thumping to the ground next to him. Chatfield had taken the lead yet again.

The game continued and Nick was playing equally as good as Chris would have. The referee did not see the difference in the two players, and Nick wondered why. He also noticed that the ref wasn’t putting up with any more distractions. He had already benched 2 players already because of disorderly conduct. Sydner didn’t attempt another physical assault on Chatfield the rest of the game.

Chatfield was so far ahead of the other team, that with one minute left, the players were trying to convince the coach the forfeit. But the coach refused to five up. He gave the instruction to try to attack Nick, whether or not it posed a foul.

Two players attempted to distract the referee while to others converged on Nick who just happened to be holding the ball at the time. The referee was to distracted to notice the assault. The two Sydner players got closer and closer, smiles turning on their faces, whispering things like, “You’re dead Walker,” and, “I am going to enjoy this.”

Nick didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. He wanted to run, but it was too late. They had picked him up. They were trying to knock him out by dropping him on his head. Their hands slipped on his sweat-drenched skin and on his silver uniform. Nick didn’t stand a chance. The teens that now held him were far stronger than he was. Nick felt like this was the end, that he would soon be joining Chris in the locker room and the game would be lost. And the worst part would be that it would have all been his fault.

Nick suddenly felt an aching, burning sensation throughout his entire body. Though this sense was painful, he felt a sudden burst of strength coming from the heat. He broke free from the restraint, the ball still in his hands, and tore across the court with inhuman speed and agility. It baffled even himself. He leapt into the air to slam the ball into the basket. He landed on the ground to the sound of the buzzer. Another cheer was awarded to Nick from the crowd, and the Chatfield Team. Nick had just won the game.

Nick felt a sense of joy rocket through his head; a warmth that filled his sweat drenched body. And he felt bad that he had stolen such a marvelous victory from the one who deserved it, Chris.

Mark came up behind Nick and smacked him on the back once more, “you did it…you did it…” were his only words.

The team made their victory march to the locker room, each expressing their congratulations to Nick. To their surprise, when they entered the locker room, Chris was sitting on the bench, and he was very conscious. Everyone was caught off guard as the first thing he sad was, “Did we win?”

Mark, who was at the front, smiled, and let the crowd part to reveal Nick, In Chris’ uniform, soaked with sweat, and with the same hairstyle as the star player.

“What the…”

“This stud won the game for us.”

Chris was speechless. The imposter that stood before him had won the game for him. Chris smiled, and motioned for Nick to come within a whisper’s range.

“You let these morons con you into playing?” he whispered to Nick.

Nick nodded.

“I want to know every detail.”

And Nick broke into a long and intricate story about how he was there for yearbook, the strange liquid, the sudden burst of strength, and the winning point. Chris listened intently and his mouth twisted into a grin.

“You actually drank that stuff?” Chris asked to see Nick nod, “You are one brave little man.”

“But what is that stuff?” Nick asked.

“It’s what I call an agitator. It increases internal agility, speed, and strength.” Chris explained, and then he beamed, “Made it myself.”

Now it all made sense. The reason he was able to run so fast. The reason he was able to break free of the two assaulters. The reason he was able to jump so high was because he had drank that liquid.

“Relax,” Chris said, “The effects are only temporary, and the only side-effect I have experienced was some dry skin.”

Chris motioned to a dry patch of skin that was on one of his chest muscles. It looked like it itched a lot.

Nick then started to scratch at his face. It did itch a lot. Either that, or the sweat wasn’t agreeing with his skin.

Chris turned to Mark, “And you have got a lot of guts, turning this kid into a star basketball player in 10 minutes.”

Nick walked over to the sink, washing the hair spray out of his hair, letting it fall back down naturally.

“It was all thanks to the little miracle drink.” Mark Commented, pride showing on his face, “And he needed every concentrated drop.”

Chris stood up almost instantly, “Concentrated?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied, “The kid needed it. I mean, no athletic talent, and you should have seen him go.”

“Concentrated!” Chris shouted again.

“Yeah…so?” Mark’s grin immediately vanished. Turning to Nick, who hadn’t heard them over the running water. Mark got closer to Chris.

“What about it?” Mark whispered.

“The thing is… I have no idea what too much of the stuff does. It could do anything from cause cell deterioration, or even cause fatality.”

“What!” Mark almost shouted, “What is in that stuff?”

“I mixed some of the best protein powders, energy supplements, but that didn’t seem to work. SO I…”

“Spit it out!” Mark almost shouted again.

“This might sound crazy, but, I mixed in some lizard extract, you know like Hormone. I thought it was stupid, but that the Lizard’s superior agility and the ability to regenerate would give it that extra kick.”

“And?”

“And it worked, thought it had to be diluted. If you ingest to much of the hormone, who knows what could happen?”

Both their glances turned to Nick, who was wiping the sweat off his face with the cool, sink water. The more he scrubbed, the worse the itch got. But Nick stopped, when he saw a large welt of dead skin puffing up from his cheek. He used his fingernails to try to scrape it off. And with a loud RIIIP, it just tore off his face! Nick screamed.

Everyone’s attention turned almost immediately to Nick, who was bending his head into the sink, trying to hide what he thought was hideous. He lifted his head, up and turned around, leaving everyone fixated in horror.

Nick had torn off half the skin on his face! And underneath was something that made everyone’s stomach churn. Scales! Dark green, perfectly aligned scales!

He screamed again, and ripped a similar patch off his arm. The same scales remained in their perfect alignment.

“What the hell?” Nick shouted, “What the hell did you do to me?”

Chris stepped forward, trying to calm Nick down.

“Settle down!” Chris shouted, “Remember the side effects are only temporary. Whatever is happening will stop momentarily, and you will be back to your old self.”

Chris hoped what he said was true, but he knew he was wrong when Nick fell to his knees. His mind was swirling, and his stomach was too. Nick’s sweat drenched body writhed in pain, and itched all over; as he moaned an inhuman groan. And his thin frame began to fill with muscle, almost instantly, like a balloon on a helium tank. His body exploded with power, the skin dying in spots and falling off the reveal the glossy scales. Disgusting sounds filled the room as Nick continued to grow, until his muscles matched that of Chris, and possibly bigger.

Chris backed up into Mark, who stood fixated on what was happening. Mark comment as Chris approached, “I think you need to add another side-effect to that short list.”

But their train of thought was broken with a tearing sound. Nick’s jersey was tearing because of the lack of room! His upper torso was getting much bigger than his waist. Nick’s frame was easily seen as an indentation through the jersey, huge chest muscles and abs forming under the silver linen. His biceps flexed without him trying, and his legs were tree trunks compared to what they had been before. The scales had overtaken his entire body, his skin hanging in fragments from different sections of his body, the dark green replacing the light peach. His thick blonde hair now lay in clumps on the floor, leaving his head bald. Down his neck and chest was a lighter shade of green, with a striped pattern of harder scales showing themselves. This pattern was easily seen on his neck and through the tears on the silver jersey.

“Amazing!” Chris said.

“Scary…” Mark commented.

“No, The concentrated form takes it far past internal strength and agility, it improves it externally too! The lizard hormone must have caused the scales.”

Mark poked Chris, “Are you sure that’s all it does?”

Mark mentioned back to Nick, who was holding his green hand like it was on fire, when the nails all of a sudden started getting longer, curving into hooked, black claws. Nick’s suffering groans and the disgusting sounds kept filling the room. The special basketball shoes he was wearing started to swell at the toes, until the front ends busted open, revealing three thick toes with Raptor claws jutting out the ends. His feet developed into a different shape, toes getting bigger, and the insole of his foot becoming thinner and thinner. The bones shifted, bringing a forced stance on the front end of his foot, the back end rising in the air, tendons strengthening to support his new saurian stance. The back of the shoe ripped open to reveal another toe like appendage growing out of the back of his foot, hooking down with a small, sharp claw. The muscles in his lower leg exploded with size and strength, helping him stand up strait.

Nick’s feet and hands were now lethal weapons, probably able to slice and dice anyone in the room if he felt well up to it. But it didn’t look like Nick was about ready to hurt someone, because the changes were far from over. With a shredding sound, fins rose out of Nick’s back, piercing through the back of the uniform because of how tight it was. The fins sprouted up his neck, and on the top of his baldhead, like spines, and probably just as sharp.

Nick let out a groan, one that you make when your stomach doesn’t agree with you. A swelling started forming towards Nick’s rear, vetabrae adding onto his spine. His neck lengthened as well, tendons in his neck strengthening and stretching. The silver shorts finally gave way, tearing in half on the back, making the shorts fall down his legs and to rest on the floor. His groin had vanished into a lizard-like sheath, which was barely visible under the light green, striped scales. The tail lengthened longer and longer, the same fins sprouting on the back of it. It filled with thick muscle, and swayed with each painful ping and pang of the transformation.

Nick started choking, and spat up his flat teeth, which clattered to the floor. Deadly sharp fangs shredded through the gum line, each long and pointy. Nick blinked, and saw his vision become keener. His eyes had lost their humanity with the rest of him, the iris no longer showing color. Just yellow with black eagle-like slits.

Crack’s came from Nick’s jaw, bones pushing on the fragile skin, lengthening his mouth into a lizard’s muzzle, nostrils flaming.

Nick couldn’t breathe anymore, the jersey that was hanging on by every thread was just too tight. Using his new claws, he tore it off his body, and let it fall to the floor. He was no longer the small, skinny yearbook photographer. He was a wrestler sized, lizard creature, man shaped with a lizard’s appendages.

Nick yawned, his serpent’s tongue stretching, his new dental work gleaming. He rubbed at his large muscles, still sore from the change. He gave threatening glances to all the basketball players, who stood transfixed on what had just happened.

Nick picked up the shredded bits of the silver uniform, and started walking for Chris, claws clicking on the hard cement floor. He stopped inches away, and bared his teeth, clenching his fists. Then, the muzzle twisted into a smile, as he let the silver ruins fall onto Chris’s half naked body.

“I hope it still fitssss.” Nick said, slurring to the accent his new tongue gave him.

Chris was speechless as what the creature told him, as Nick turned around, and started searching through the players bags.

“Nick… I don’t know how to apologize for…” Chris started saying, but was interrupted by a stare from Nick.

“Ssssory isn’t going to fix thissss is it Chrissss.”

Some of the players couldn’t help but laugh at the lisp, but Chris shut them up, feeling guilty for what his “energy drink” had done.

Nick then came to Chris’s bag, and found 3 more bottles of the liquid. He took them to the sink, and drained their contents into the drain.

“But…” Mark blurted.

“I am not going to kill any of you, no matter how much my new insssstinct wantssss me to,” Nick said, “Though, if I find that you are using this sssstuff, I will find you and put you out of your misssssery.”

The team nodded simultaneously, as Nick threw the bottles in the trash can near the door. He then turned the knob, and started opening the door.

“Where are you going to go?”

Nick was silent for a couple of seconds, then he said, “In the mountainssss. I know a nice place to ssstay. A nice rock that I am yearning to sssssun on.”

He paused, “Did I just sssay that?”

Everyone nodded again, and Nick shrugged, and continued opening the door.

“You can’t go outside looking…looking like…. that.”

Nick closed the door, “And what do you ssssuggesssst?”

And each player started going through their bags, dressing into their regular clothes. They pulled out some extra pairs of jeans, shirts, and even a hat. They used the hat to cover Nick’s baldhead, the fins uncomfortably flattening under the fibers. The clothes, which were baggy, because it was the style at the time, barely fit Nick, the fins almost ripping holes through the fibers. The jeans went up Nick’s legs with ease, but they had to button it underneath the large tail. The plan was to sneak Nick outside with the clothes, hoping no one would see him. But there was still one problem. The fact that he had killer claws on his hands and feet, and no gloves or shoes were going to fit him anymore. And the other thing was his tail. It was far to big to be hidden, and it stood up to Nick’s head.

“I guess you are going to have to put your hands in your pockets, and walk in the center of all of us, so no one sees your feet.”

Then everyone thought about how they were going to hide the tail. Thinking quickly, Chris grabbed his gym bag, trashed the shredded uniform, and walked behind Nick.

“You are going to have to cooperate.”

Nick winced in pain, as Chris packed the tail into the bag in a most uncomfortable looking position. He then held like he was carrying his gym bag. It was almost clever enough to work.

“Everyone crown around!”

The team got around Nick, holding their bags, almost hiding him. They then started out the door.

The first part was easy. They managed to get down the locker room hallway with no trouble at all. But once they were at the double doors that led out to the main hall, a cheering crowd stopped them. Nick did the best to hide his face.

The crowd consisted mainly of the team’s girlfriends, and a couple of their friends. They congratulated the team (mainly Chris) on their victory, and everything was going fine until…

“Oh! Who’s That?”

“He’s not on the team!”

“I know. But he sure is sexy.”

“Look at those muscles!”

“And look how tall he is!”

The girls started trying to get to Nick, who closed his lizard eyes. The team did their best not to let them get to Nick, pushing them away, and making false explanations and excuses. But there was no way to hold them off any longer. They pushed Mark away from Nick, and walked up to him.

“Hey handsome. You want to go on a date sometime? I know a perfect place to skinny dip.”

Nick almost gagged at how the girls acted. They were gawking at his physical features, and nothing more. This was the problem Nick had found with most girls, and why people who played sports had such an easy time getting a date. Girls were attracted to big men, and that was it. No one ever appreciated the mind anymore.

One of the girls got close enough to start feeling Nick’s pectorals, and Nick could swear she was drooling.

“So strong…” she said, working her way down to his abs.

It was then that she screamed, because she got a glimpse of Nick’s feet, and the claws that topped them off. She wasted no time, and started screaming, pushing at Chris, who fell backwards, the bag falling off Nick’s tail which stretched back into its normal position. She screamed again. The entire room was sent into a mad dash, but luckily for the players and Nick, it was in the opposite direction. While everyone was running, they made a quiet exit out the back door, and were out of sight before a teacher could see what had happened. All they had found was Chris’s basketball bag.

Night had fallen, and the players all gathered around the trail that backed up to the school. Nick’s eyes gleamed in the little light there was.

“Well,” Chris said, “This is it.”

Nick could do nothing but nod, as he turned to the trail.

“Goodbye,” he said, and started walking up the dirt path.

“Wait!” Mark shouted, just in time to catch Nick before he vanished, “I have a question.”

Nick gave Mark his full attention.

“Why weren’t you mad at us…after you had changed… Why didn’t you kill us?”

Nick smiled, “The only reasssson I wanted to kill you wassss becausssse you put me through a horrible, painful experience. But I let off, becausssse even though I had gone through agonizsssing pain, when it was done, I felt a ssssense of peace, like all my human caressss had just vanished. That issss why.”

Nick started walking again, then turned back around once more, “And bessssidessss, you gave me what I had yearned for for a long, long time. I wassss good at something. Good at ssssomething that I had never thought I would have been good at. And for that I thank you. And bessssides, it’s not everyday that you are a sssstar bassssketball player.”

And with that said, Nick vanished into the shadows. And no one ever heard from the lizard teen again.

*Lizard Man’s Features Depicted with help from The Black Dragon’s Benny. Thanks Keanon. Couldn’t have described it without you =)”

Basketball copyright 2003 by Ryan Hoffman.