Jonathan

Chapter 4

Jonathan pulled his knees up under his chin as he sat in the mud crying as he remembered the details of what happened that night, He didn't want to burn down his parents house, and he never would have wanted to hurt his parents. He was seventeen when he killed them, that was three years ago.

He hadn't stopped thinking about home since then. He had never stopped anywhere for longer than a few days and he spent most of his time travelling, alone, by foot. There was no way he'd do something like that again, so he tried to stay away from people.

As he sat feeling sorry for himself he heard a door just around the corner from him open.

"Go on Mr. Mumpkins, do your business." A woman's voice said through the door, her tone was high pitched and whimsical, "Good boy Mr. Mumpkins, good boy." The door slammed shut and Jonathan could hear the sound of a dog sniffing the air. There came a low growl from around the corner and Jonathan held his body stiff and rigid, trying not to make a sound.

He saw a black nose poke out from behind the brick wall, it was high enough off the ground to belong to a doberman, or some other viciously territorial, overly protective breed. Jonathan held his breath as the muzzle started to emerge, it was nasty looking, with huge curved teeth. The snarl that came from the dog was terrifying, the hair on Jonathan's arms and on the back of his neck stood on end and everything seemed to slow down. 

The air slowly turned thick and laden with energy. Jonathan could see ripples of air around the dog's head as it inched slowly around the corner. Its angry black eyes made contact with his and as they did, Jonathan saw the dog's head begin to shrink. Its massive chest came around the corner and began to grow narrower, its legs shorter.

The dog's fur even started to change, it grow longer and lighter, started to curl and puff out. It was quite an artistic thing to watch, all of these changes happening so fluidly, so elegantly until what was once a doberman, now stood there a pomeranian. 

The tiny dog barked at Jonathan. It was a pathetic, high pitched bark and Jonathan smiled down at it.

"Hi Mr. Mumpkins," He imitated the woman's voice and the dog stopped growling. It cocked its head and panted up at Jonathan. "What a good boy, yes you are, you're a good boy!" Mr. Mumpkins bounded up to Jonathan and snuggled close to him, barking again but this time sounding much more pleased.

"Mr. Mumpkins!" The woman's voice didn't sound as pleased when she opened the door this time. "You know how much the neighbours hate it when you bark at night."

The dog yapped up at Jonathan again and went prancing back around the corner, tail high in the air with pride.

"That's right you come inside now, I'm sorry I yelled at you." The woman's voice went back to it's cheerful, sing-song tone as Mr. Mumpkins jumped up to get in the door. She didn't even notice the change in her dog's breed, but then again nobody ever noticed it when Jonathan shifted things.

It was never something he could do at will, he'd never been able to shift for fun, it was only when his life was at risk. It was always the same feeling too, the air grew heavy, and time seemed to slow down, then what ever was threatening him would change. Sometimes, like in the case of the dog, the actual threat would physically change into something much less risky, but more often than not this strange phenomenon would manifest in ways like the night before.

That van would have most definitely hit Jonathan if he hadn't shifted its path. He hated himself for it too. So many people were hurt and killed when it was just him who was supposed to die. What made it worse was that none of it had to happen at all if he could just be in control of…of what ever it was that lived inside of him.