Manchac Academy: Chapter 1

Forgive me, my memory of this time was without structured language. So my recollections and accounts of these moments are distorted. But I will reiterate what happened the best I can articulate and remember.

 

The day I became a two legged, two armed, no tale, hairy animal was the worst day of my life. 

I was resting, remaining perfectly still in the swamp waters of Manchac. I used to have pits in my upper and lower jaw that let me sense pressure change in the water… making me the perfect predator. I had been holding my breath for at least two hours, waiting for a larger bird to appear closer to the shallows. The small ones scatter too quickly and are too much energy to spend on something that won’t keep me full.

It started to rain, I could see the water pulsing from up above me, it made no difference to me.

Something began to glow on the surface of the water, I took a moment to wonder if inspecting this was worth my energy. I hadn’t eaten since last week and didn’t need to spend it on curiosities. I had seen human traps before, seen some of the strongest males of the swamp stuck, caught, and eaten because of them. 

I was only eight years-old at the time, so picking a male mate was of no concern of mine yet. Staying away from them was my only worry, avoiding their need for dominance. 

The glow began to annoy me at this point, I couldn’t focus on oncoming prey. The light became brighter and it began to surge quickly. I figured if I swallowed it, I could move on with my hunting.

Pushing forward, I dropped my jaw and snapped it shut quicker than a blink. It tasted awful, nothing I could have described at the time but now it reminds me of peaches… and I hate peaches. 

I sank back to the bottom of the river and continued to wait. Content to be able to focus on my craft. 

The water felt dense around me… the pressure of the water became too heavy for me to bear. But I couldn’t move, I noticed my tale and arms could not push me to the surface. I started to swallow and choke on the water. My head was all I had control of and I thrashed it side to side and up and down, trying my best to resurface. 

My whole being vibrated and twitched, my normal bellowing and growls seemed weaker and small. My skin began to burn and chip. I ripped my claws towards my skin, and in uncomfortable sloths it began to peel away. My eyes sank into my head and I became blind. 

My teeth not only fell out of my head but some retreated back into my skull. Bleeding profusely. My spine popped, buckled, curled, cracked into all positions possible. 

And through all the pain, I suddenly became conscious… or self-aware, I suppose. Although I did not have language at the moment to decipher this… the words I can connect to my feelings were, “Why me?”

Such an external idea of thought I had never had before. Pain was merely an aspect of life, something I had always avoided but never had I looked to the skies and begged for an answer of why I had to endure this pain.

Still conscious, but I began to sink deeper into the river. The current pushed me along but I couldn’t fight it. Slowly, I felt myself curl inward. Collapsing almost. This went on for a few… what I’m told are measurements of time… hours. 

The water pushed me a few miles before I had any feeling in my arms again. I somehow grabbed a vine, or maybe it was a rock, and deterred my path to push me against the bank. My torso on land but my lower body still in the water.

I opened my eyes and the heat that entered them had me hissing and twisting. My hands suddenly tangled in this black, webbing I now understand as hair. 

Eventually, I turn myself over and feel the pinch and splintering of the earth below me. I have no balance, after stumbling a few times I noticed I had no tail to keep me upright. I crawled on my belly a few more feet before I’m exhausted and roll over to my back. I slipped into this peacefulness that was overwhelming, I had slept before but the sensation was such a relief. 

I was vulnerable though, if any predators were to find me I would be dead… but I figured I possibly was already dead… for in my seven years as an alligator I had never experienced or witnessed anything like that.

 

I woke to the sounds gunfire and the howling of human laughter. The engines of their bikes ripping through the mud. I snapped and kicked my long legs to find some use for these superfluously long appendages. 

The commotion grew closer. Despite my best efforts I didn’t move but a few feet.

Their bikes screamed through the shrubs and circled me. One of the cyclist, upon seeing me, lost control of his bike and was sprawled forward on his bike, hitting a tree. His friends all laughed at him as they slowed and pointed with teasing remarks.

The cyclist who had fallen took off his helmet and hollered over them, “Guys! Guys! Stop! Look!”

He pointed at me, all three or four of his friends turned and became silent. The cyclist who had fallen slowly placed his helmet on the ground and spoke with concern, “Hey… hey… are you alright?”

I started walking backward, unaware of what he was communicating to me.

The rest of the cyclists began to remove their helmets and approached me. 

My eyes adjusted more and I better understood that these were humans. And I had seen humans before, I had seen what they had done to my kin.

The same boy, “Hey, honey, where are your parents?”

The cyclists behind him, a female, muttered, “She’s a mess… where are her clothes?”

The boy, “Are you hurt?”

I leapt toward them and tried to roar, but it was unbearably pathetic compared to the sounds I used to make. I tried hissing but just as weak. They didn’t budge, the instead grew far more worried and walked closer.

The boy, “Honey, come with us. We’ll help you find your parents.”

I remained frozen, hoping I still had camouflage that blended me to the swamp. But once looking upon my body, this weak branch coloring would hide me from nothing. 

The boy was in arms reach of me, I still didn’t move. He leaned forward to take my forearm. 

Once his skin touched mine, I snapped my jaw forward and bit his upper arm. Upon biting past his clothes I tasted his skin and blood and realized again how hungry I was. 

In his cries he tried to shake me off, his friends running to help him. I growled and hissed as they pried me off of him. In desperation the oldest male punched me in my left rib. The shock of pain forced me to release him and I tumbled to the mud.

Yet despite what I had done they still tried to help me. But I not yet understood what was happening. I had this sudden familiarity of how to run trigger in my muscles and I sprinted, with some wobbling, through the swamp.

They yelled and seemed to have chased after me. 

And at first I suspected it was them who planted this trap; a large net ascended from beneath me and shot me twenty feet up into a tree. As much as I tried to bite through the ropes of the net, it was of no use. I was stuck for several days in this net in the tree. 

Humans of all kinds passed beneath me but I did not call out to them because I did not trust them. 

 

I was asleep when I felt the net rock and descend back to the ground. My hunger had me far more disoriented than I already was, I was in no shape to put up a fight. My back touched the ground and the netting was cut. Several smaller humans helped lift me and carried me to a truck.

They placed me in the bed, two stayed with me and the others went inside the car. We didn’t drive long but the sun was going down. The last bit of light showed me my new home. A plaque hanging over the front entrance, a wooden sign with bronze writing: 

 

 

MANCHAC ACADEMY

SCHOOL FOR THE NATURALLY GIFTED