Post by Damian Truwick on Jun 22, 2009 2:26:48 GMT -5
Damian Truwick was the kind of person who would have flatly contradicted anyone who told him that there were people who could fly, or move objects with their minds, or spontaneously heal from any wound. He moved with the crowd, somewhere near the back of the pack, going with what worked and finding an edge where he could. He watched the Discovery channel when his roommates were out and would occasionally trot out odd facts about sharks or ancient history, but it was always something he had heard somewhere. The guys he lived with would never forgive him for being a closet geek.
Today, he was escaping them to have a quiet lunch in the sandwich shop at the edge of town. The place was a stone's throw from some kind of school--people tended to avoid it, but Damian didn't care. His attention was devoted firmly to his sub. However, he wouldn't get to finish it.
The first warning was the young guy from the next table staggering into him. With a cry, Damian flung out his arms to keep from falling over, one to brace him against the table and the other to push the guy away. Damian glared at the fellow, only to meet with a face that was pasty and clearly in distress.
"Woah." Damian blinked. "Hey, are you all right?" Abruptly changing his objective, Damian put his back into keeping the teen upright, hoping fervently that he wasn't about to puke all over him. Damian could see his throat bobbing with his rapid swallowing.
So he saw when it stopped. There was an awkward moment where the two looked at each other, the teen's color improving in mere seconds.
That was weird enough, but then the teen didn't say so much as one word before straightening his shirt and bolting out the door. Damian was left with the look in the kid's eyes burning on his retinas--a creepy look, like the kid knew something Damian didn't. It was almost enough to put him off his lunch.
What really did it, though, was the gut-cramping nausea that seized him moments later.
Damian didn't stick around to embarrass himself in the public bathroom, but headed out the door as fast as he could and made it to the school's lawn before falling to his knees and evacuating his stomach right there. Afterward, he dropped onto one side and lay there, waiting for the shakes to subside.
Today, he was escaping them to have a quiet lunch in the sandwich shop at the edge of town. The place was a stone's throw from some kind of school--people tended to avoid it, but Damian didn't care. His attention was devoted firmly to his sub. However, he wouldn't get to finish it.
The first warning was the young guy from the next table staggering into him. With a cry, Damian flung out his arms to keep from falling over, one to brace him against the table and the other to push the guy away. Damian glared at the fellow, only to meet with a face that was pasty and clearly in distress.
"Woah." Damian blinked. "Hey, are you all right?" Abruptly changing his objective, Damian put his back into keeping the teen upright, hoping fervently that he wasn't about to puke all over him. Damian could see his throat bobbing with his rapid swallowing.
So he saw when it stopped. There was an awkward moment where the two looked at each other, the teen's color improving in mere seconds.
That was weird enough, but then the teen didn't say so much as one word before straightening his shirt and bolting out the door. Damian was left with the look in the kid's eyes burning on his retinas--a creepy look, like the kid knew something Damian didn't. It was almost enough to put him off his lunch.
What really did it, though, was the gut-cramping nausea that seized him moments later.
Damian didn't stick around to embarrass himself in the public bathroom, but headed out the door as fast as he could and made it to the school's lawn before falling to his knees and evacuating his stomach right there. Afterward, he dropped onto one side and lay there, waiting for the shakes to subside.