FSE

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*Gram was a rather large hunk of an 18-year-old high school senior. Quarterback shoulders. Prom King jaw line. A total star. And yet, there he was: hunched over in a bush, taking a long, long look at some massive old building across the road. For a place that held such high-tier loot, it wasn't very secure in the nighttime. He slapped the back of his accomplice as if they were buddy-buddy and gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Inside that museum hides the mother lode of bucks, my friend! And you're gonna help me get it." He closed his eyes, just imagining the money falling into his hands. "It's gonna be so sweet when I get my hands on that bag..."

His glare darted over to the figure by his side. A way smaller, frail-looking kid. "And don't you mess this up for me, okay, Bait?"*

Kevin recoiled at the feeling of Gram's hand on his back. The cruel grip that had slammed him into lockers so many times. The meaty hooks that had tossed his book bag off the school's roof for an Instagram video. The teenage claws that had dragged him out here in the dead of night.

Nervous, the boy pulled his hood up over his scraggly brown hair and curled over on himself. He would've advised Gram to do the same for the sake of stealth, but the quarterback insisted on wearing his varsity jacket to the crime scene. It's like he was glued to the thing.

"I'm not the one plotting a felony," the smaller boy muttered. He wasn't quite sure what museum property theft would be classified as in court, but he imagined it wasn't a minor offense. Not that Gram had the brain cells to fathom consequence as a concept.

Despite his accomplice's whispers, Gram clearly picked up on the talkback. He slapped Kevin harder this time.

"Shut up and do your nerd shit. I want that door open, even if I have to toss you through it."

The brunette rolled his eyes at the thought. Gram always resorted to violence, so why would tonight be any different? With little choice in the matter, Kevin pulled out his phone and opened the security app -- the same program used by the museum, according to the posted signs.

Where Gram worked with his fists, Kevin relied on his intellect. It wasn't hard to backdoor the security account and take control of the building's locks. Exploiting weaknesses was his specialty. Maybe that's the one thing he and Gram had in common.

A high-pitched beep whispered in the night. Kevin could hear the door bolts disengage, and the burly blonde shot him an acknowledging look.

"After you, Bait..."

*Kevin sighed, inching his way out of the shrubbery and trying to keep as covert as possible. However, this was interrupted by another slap to the back from Gram.

The boy had no class, walking so nonchalantly as if they weren't committing a crime at all. Inching up close to the entrance, Gram jiggled the doorknob just to test Kevin's handiwork. It unlocked without a hitch, and he opened the door. "Come on in."*

Trepidation carried Kevin's feet through the front, but he hesitated only on the first footstep. Gram naturally shoved him forward before closing the door. The glass clinked as it shut, a bit too loudly for Kevin's comfort. But there was no time to linger about. His bullish cohort was sure to get them caught before long.

"Which way to the stash?" the jock asked, glancing around the foyer.

"First, we get to the security room, wipe the camera feed, and then we find the exhibit. Or did you actually want them to see us walking through the entrance?"

"I thought you took care of that already? You're the little cameraman, right?" Gram whispered sternly.

Kevin sighed at his impetuousness. "They're on a different signal feed than the doors. I can't do anything until we're in the room."

Gram scoffed, shoulder-checking his partner in crime. "Some help you are." His converses squeaked as he proceeded into the entry hall.

The local museum wasn't particularly large, but it was sizable enough to dangle some pterodactyl skeletons in the main lobby. Gram didn't pay them much attention, however, as his gaze was fixed on the silver banner hanging from the second-floor walkway.

It screamed at him in golden letters: THE HAMMER OF THE GODS. LAST OF THE PRECURSORS.

A towering shark tooth, certainly not to scale, stood proudly beneath the verbose font.

While Gram stared in awe and counted his soon-to-be riches, Kevin darted to the directory by the welcome kiosk. The sooner they reached the security room, the sooner he could forget this night ever happened.

*"There's gotta be one of those direction things around here somewhere... " He turned his head to anywhere that had arrows. Above them was a sign labeled as follows: Guest Services – Restroom - Kids Discovery Zone - Amphibians and Aquatics – T-REX!

Gram nodded, following the directions to Guest Services. That was probably the closest thing to Security this old place had. "Alright Brainiac, we'll go to security check so you can do your little camera magic. Then we grab the old ass tooth, I pawn it off, and become rich as fuck!" Gram cheered loudly as if it was just him and Kevin.*

"Keep it down," Kevin urged in a hush. "We still don't know where the guard's patrolling. I need eyes on the cameras." Obviously. He omitted that snide finisher. As much as he wanted to mouth off to his school bully, it'd just earn him another shove. Or worse.

The boys proceeded past the stairwell and towards their destination while the more perceptive of the two kept an ear out for rogue footsteps. That became difficult when the larger student began his unnecessary chitchat. His very aggressive chitchat.

"Christ, can you imagine how much this thing'll go for? Ten thousand, a hundred? More than you'll ever see in your life, shittard. That's for sure!" Gram chortled, again smacking his accomplice in between the shoulders.

"You know there's better ways to make money, right? Like finding a job? Hey, make a left here."

"Ugh. You sound like my fuckin' dad. You know how much I make bagging groceries on the weekend? Eight bucks an hour. That shit doesn't fuckin' last long."

Kevin rolled his eyes under his hood. "Doesn't your dad literally own a pharmaceutical company?"

"Yeah, and he's stingy as fuck...is this it?"

Before them stood an alcove littered with cartoony standees -- various animals with goofy expressions. The kind meant to entertain children but only end up scarring them for life. Hanging above was the banner: "Guest Services." Which services were actually provided remained unclear, but the locked door behind the reception desk was certainly worth investigating.

Kevin unlocked his phone and got to work.

*"What're you pulling out your little doohickey for? I thought you unlocked all the doors!" Gram exclaimed, this time in a hushed tone.

Half-focused and half-frustrated, Kevin huffed through his nose. "Again, they're different frequencies and paths. Just because I press a button doesn't mean it unlocks everything on the block…"

A couple taps here, some decoding there, and a smidgen of path tracing and...

The keypad on the door, once flashing red, immediately flipped to green. The change came with the mechanical and electronic whirr of a lock unhinging. Gram smirked, almost impressed with his cohort's work. "We make a great team you and me. Too bad you're not good at anything besides nerd shit."

Gram gripped the handle and flung the door open.*

The "nerd shit" boy dismissed Gram's comments and followed him into what seemed like a maintenance hallway. The walls were lined with wires and pipes snaking down from the second level. It got increasingly cramped to the point that his football star partner had to shimmy his way through the corridor. Gram cursed a few times when his head smacked against an exhaust vent. Kevin smiled to himself.

It wasn't long until they reached a fork in the path. To the left was more wiring that seemed to circle around the building. To the right, another door:

SECURITY OFFICE

The label read like an X on a map. While Kevin worked his magic once again, Gram's hand was already on the knob.

The door's handle slammed against the back wall. Kevin sighed under his breath. This guy was like a wrecking ball.

Fortunately, the room was as empty as anticipated. Only one night guard made rounds nowadays, and they were more inclined to patrol the exhibits given how stuffy the office was. There was hardly any ventilation, just more wires strung to the off-white walls.

"Do your thing, and let's fucking go," Gram instructed, leaning against the doorway.

"Sure thing. Dumbass," came a muttered response.

"The fuck did you say?"

"Sure thing! That is what I said."

Approaching the security desk, Kevin found the setup more antiquated than he'd hoped. It would seem that the museum blew their security budget on the new locks and alarms. There was only one monitor set up, displaying every camera angle in uncomfortably small windows. Even if someone had been watching from inside, they'd have to squint to see anything.

Finding the guard was the equivalent of a Where's Waldo game, but Kevin eventually spotted him in the cafeteria...asleep...with a half-eaten burrito on the table. How convenient.

"You done yet?" Gram sighed, tapping his foot.

"You want this done right or not?" After a brief inspection, Kevin spotted an SD card slot and popped out the chip. The monitor froze in response before static overwhelmed the camera feeds. While he'd prepared a far more elaborate hack for this system, it ultimately proved unnecessary. What a waste.

*Gram checked his smartwatch, no doubt something he so ungraciously received for his birthday or Christmas or something. It was almost 11:30 and they still hadn't got their loot. "C'mon man, what's taking so long!?" Gram gave Kevin a nudge, causing him to fumble with the SD card.

"Well, I thought this was gonna be something a little more complicated."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, boring nerd shit. Can we go get my tooth now?"

Kevin sighed, begrudgingly, "Sure, whatever…" Dipshit. Omitted yet again to save himself a shove. Mentally, he swore that if Gram hit him another time, he would just snap and leave. He didn't even care about the consequences. This was hell. Not even the jock smacking his head into old pipes could match the pain and suffering Kevin had endured.

Heading up the steps, Gram led the charge into the Aquarium and Aquatics exhibit. Now he knew exactly where to go. The only thing left to do was bag that hunk of bone and dip the fuck out.*

Kevin trailed behind just enough to not arouse Gram's ire. The more distance between them, the fewer altercations that could potentially occur. That's why the timid young man kept to himself at school, watching everyone from a distance. He learned quite a bit that way.

For instance, he learned that Gram was respected for his skill on the field, but not much else. The boy's grades were barely passing, and despite his seemingly endless confidence, he wasn't particularly popular among the student body. Even the other jocks distanced themselves outside of practice. Hard to imagine why...

In a rapid twist of positions, Kevin found himself smacking into Gram this time. The larger boy's gaze had tidal locked on a towering fish tank in the wall. His expression was tense, seemingly lost in the most thought Kevin had ever witnessed.

While he flinched at first, the bait boy awaited a counter that never came. He reluctantly spoke after one too many awkward beats. "Uh, what are you looking at?"

Gram didn't respond. His eyes were transfixed on a clown fish fluttering by the glass. Was it the same fish from the last time he'd visited? Do clownfish live that long? Did it remember him and --

"Gram, what the hell are you doing?"

An irritated groan shot back at him. "Nothing! I was --"

"Then let's get moving? Before that guard wakes up from his food coma?"

"I know, shut up!" Gram stormed off, following the promotional flags deeper into the exhibit.

Whatever that was about, Kevin didn't care enough to prod. His own impatience was growing. There was too much on the line to get caught now.

The duo rounded the corner to their final destination -- the shark exhibit. Of course, the museum lacked the budget and space to house an actual shark, so they settled for bones and what was essentially a PowerPoint presentation. How they acquired this so-called "God's Hammer" was beyond fiscal comprehension.

"It's around here somewhere, right?" Gram asked, returning focus to the task at hand.

"No, it's back down in the safari room with all the other sharks." Purely on accident, Kevin let his sass get the better of him.

"Oh, fuck you." The blonde boy smacked his shoulder, though not as hard as Kevin anticipated. "Keep your mouth shut, and maybe I'll toss a fiver your way when I pawn this shit."

"Are you sure you don't feel bad about stealing what I presume is the most valuable thing here? They probably spent their last dime on it."

Gram scoffed as he made his way into the special exhibit. "This is why you suck, dude. You're a coward."

"Maybe I just have a conscience…"

"Oh yeah? Where was that conscience in the locker room --"

"Shut the fuck up!" The brunette stomped in sudden aggravation.

"Wow, someone just grew some balls! Listen, Bait, it's survival of the fittest. You can be a fish or you can be a shark. And I'm tired of being a fish."

Kevin resisted the urge to clarify that sharks are fish. He knew when to pick his battles.

Spinning on his heels, Gram marched around the room as he followed the signs. Where was this fuckin' tooth?!

*The tension in the room was thicker than the crust of the earth.

Finally, as if God himself were showing them the way, a stray light from overhead shined down onto a glass case. Inside, a tan, dusty old tooth. As damaged from erosion and aging as it was, this tooth had some fuckin' grit to it.

"There is it...the money maker." He pressed his fingers to the glass, lifting it gently.*

As Gram freed the tooth from its coffin, a deep chill swung through Kevin. It wasn't just nerves or some fledgling moral compass steering him away. There was an uncomfortable aura flooding the room. With caution, he approached the placard embedded on the podium.

Primus Deus Malleus -- A recently discovered ancestor of the Sphyrnidae, more commonly known as the hammerhead, this shark spanned ~7ft from head to tailfin. While not much larger than a human, it is theorized to have eaten prey nearly twice its size.

"If you want to stare at the plaque so much, take that too. Consider it your participation trophy." Gram chuckled snidely. He clutched his prize in victory like a homecoming trophy. If his team had ever won one, he imagined it would feel quite like this.

"We're not out of the woods yet. Let's go."

"Yeah, yeah, just take a picture first!"

Kevin recoiled as the boy's phone was shoved in his face. His face tightened in a grimace. "How are you fucking stupider than I thought? We're not leaving photographic evidence!"

Gram positioned himself under the stray lights of the nearby fish tank and held the tooth up to his face. "We're not leaving anything. I won't even share it to Insta. Code's 2-0-0-9."

Kevin groaned in frustration, but he knew better than to argue with Gram. Logic would never triumph over his indignation. Reluctantly, the now-officially-an-accomplice unlocked the device and aimed it up at the posing buffoon.

Part of him wanted to ask about the photo on Gram's lock screen, but he couldn't care enough to continue the thought.

Snap. Snap.

There. Clear evidence of a half-assed crime. Begrudgingly, Kevin moved to return the phone. However, as Gram lifted his hand from the tooth, he felt a sharp prick in his finger. A splash of ruby fell onto the carpet beneath his feet.

He'd nicked himself on the jagged side.

Kevin rolled his eyes. Great. Blood at a crime scene. Forget wiping any fingerprints. They were totally fucked.

Tonight couldn't possibly get any worse.

*"Fuckin' shit!" Gram yanked his hand back and shoved his finger in his mouth. For an old-ass tooth, it was still pretty sharp.

"Stupid fuckin' fossil."

"You really should be more careful," Kevin chastised him before handing back the phone.

Gram snatched it, scoffing. "Tsk, yeah whatever, Bait." He shoved it in his pocket and grabbed the tooth, albeit more carefully this time.

Still not in much of a rush, the footballer strolled back through the exhibit as he looked for the exit. Should they go out the same way they came? Or make it a sort of Mission Impossible-style escape with lasers, and zip-lines and-

"Where are you going? "

Gram snapped out of his trance and realized that he was walking with no direction. It felt like his body was just moving on its own, never planning to stop. Weird.

"What's it to you, nerd? I got what I came for, so I don't need you anymore. Fuckin' leave."*

Kevin half-smirked, though not enough to be noticed. "Actually, you still need me to open the doors without triggering the alarm. Unless you want to sleep here."

"God, couldn't you just leave everything unlocked? I thought you were the smart kid!"

"It doesn't work like that," the boy said. Of course, it would've been simple enough to disable the alarms for the whole night. He could also unlock all the doors and play jazz on the speakers if he so wished. However, the only thing keeping Gram from abandoning him, and potentially framing him, was Kevin's perceived utility. One way or another, he was making it out of this unscathed -- his own prize in hand.

Gram's eyes rolled in his head. "Whatever, nerd. Since we're here, why don't we do some more...window shopping?"

The smaller teen glared at his partner. How much did he really want to test their luck tonight? While it was unlikely that security would wake up and stumble upon them, even in a building this size, every minute was toeing the line.

But it wasn't like Kevin could stop him -- physically or otherwise.

The two potential-maybe-felons walked through the rest of the aquatics exhibit before making their way through the reptile chamber. Only a handful of nocturnal species could be seen skittering under their dark lights. More than once, Kevin caught Gram lingering by the gecko tanks. It was as if the jock was genuinely intrigued by the animals. Was that even possible?

"You're not going to steal a lizard are you?" Kevin asked, checking the time on his phone. 11:55 PM.

"Don't be stupid, Bait. These guys need special heating just to survive."

"Oh wow, you do actually read the little info cards. Mind-blowing."

Strangely, Gram seemed to ignore that dig at his low-bar intelligence. "Obviously, nerd. I came here all the time when I was little."

"Really?"

"Family tradition."

"Funny, I didn't see your Dad's name plastered to the building." Kevin also assumed it was their "family tradition" to buy up local businesses on a whim and short them for profit. Kelly's Deli was never the same.

"Course not. Dad fuckin' hates everything cool." Gram muttered that last part, his gaze still fixated on the tank before him. "It was just me and Mom."

That would explain the photo he saw on Gram's lock screen. The two people posing in front of a dinky tuna tank. It must have been taken back when the aquatics exhibit was smaller. Smaller than it already was.

Kevin didn't have much to say in response. The air felt dry.

*He dug his heel into his shoe, almost like he shouldn't have asked in the first place.*

Gram kept walking. "Yo, I gotta piss before we go."

"Cool. Thanks for the info," the brunette muttered. "Just hurry up, will you?"

*His cohort didn't answer as he sauntered his way into the men's room.

Inside, the bathroom was very well-kept. Lots of white, pristine, granite countertops, porcelain toilets, the works! This was a museum after all, not exactly at gas station-level of elegance. Gram picked the first stall he could trudge to when he felt a sudden heat. Did he walk under an air vent? Perhaps the excitement of the heist was getting to him.

Whipping out his own "prized possession," he took a wiz, which promptly ended without cleaning off the seat. How rude.

He walked over to the sink and flicked on the faucet. But then his vision started to blur. Jeez, he'd stay up till four on some days, there's no way he was getting tired when the night was so young.

Gram splashed his face with a quick blast of water, and that felt pretty weird too. The spout was definitely turned to cold...but it seemed more...lukewarm? Neutral? It didn't shock him awake like normal.

As he rinsed his hands off, he glanced at the finger where the cut resided. Things looked about right with a small nick there. It was already sealed up. However, the skin around it looked a bit...grey? Probably just some blood rushing around it. He took one more splash to his face and galloped out of the restroom.*

Kevin's foot twitched impatiently in the hall. How long did it take a dude to pee? He checked his phone once again. Twelve on the dot. Just because there was time to fuck around didn't mean Kevin wanted to spend the whole night bonding with the bane of his existence. One sad life story wasn't enough to erase three years of extracurricular harassment.

Besides, Kevin had class in the morning.

Gram eventually trotted out, shoving his injured hand and the villainous tooth into his coat pocket. "Ready, Bait?"

"Before we go, we should grab bleach from the janitor's closet and get your blood out of the carpet."

"Pfft. They're not gonna notice that, right?"

"The cops will when they hunt for a missing priceless artifact."

"Oh, there's definitely gonna be a price on this baby!" The larger boy smiled as he absentmindedly scratched at his hand.

Kevin sighed in annoyance. "I saw a supply room back by the African art. It'll only take a minute."

For once, Gram didn't argue. Maybe logic finally got through his thick, often concussed, skull. He followed Kevin through the hallways without complaint, but strangely, he had a hard time keeping up with the boy's brisk pace. He'd be fine this whole night, and he was obviously in better shape than the loser in front of him. Why did his head feel so hot?

*Perhaps the infectious grit and grime of the old tooth had sunk its way deep into his finger. Perhaps the museum had a science-y force field that weakened big, strong jocks like himself. Or maybe, it was just the middle of June, and cooling a building after hours would be pointless.*

Kevin noticed Gram's sluggishness, but said nothing. He was tired as well. The sooner they clean up the mess, the sooner they could part ways and hopefully never talk to each other again. It wasn't until the football star stumbled that Kevin turned around.

“What the hell, Gram?"

The boy was breathing heavily as he picked himself up and leaned against the exhibit wall. "I...uh...let's take five." He scratched again at the hand in his pocket. It was starting to itch a lot. And it was getting too hot for his jacket.

"Seriously? You're sweating all over on a 7th-century tapestry."

*Regardless, Gram grabbed the old fabric and wiped the accumulated moisture off his brow. From the amount he wiped away, he could have made a small puddle! Surely, it wasn't THAT hot.

"C'mon Gram, get your head in the game. We gotta go." The athlete's face was turning a darker tone of rust. That wasn't good.

"Y-yeah, yeah...hold on a sec!" A clammy palm pressed on his temple. Maybe Bait was right. They should have just got the tooth and left.

Gram pushed himself up off his impromptu seat, and his head started to spin. He saw stars. He felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. It took every ounce of his being not to completely fall on his knees or flat on his face.*

Kevin himself was sweating from nerves alone. The last thing he needed was this lummox to pass out from heat stroke. He'd have no luck carrying him out, and even dragging him on the floor would be laborious. Maybe the janitor's closet had a supply cart. If they could just make it to the --

A heavy groan came from Gram's mouth...along with today's lunch. Kevin stumbled back like the boy was a pinless grenade. Fuck. They were gonna need a lot more bleach.

"Oh fucking...really, dude?" Kevin shouted, no longer able to contain his frustration.

"Shit. Shit…" Gram muttered in a haze.

"Ok, you go back to the bathroom. I'll get the bleach. I'll just fucking do everything tonight." Holding his breath, Kevin helped Gram to his feet and sent him back down the hall. The brunette then turned around and dashed off to the supply closet, praying for a mop and for his accomplice to stay conscious long enough to close their deal.

Back in the other direction, Gram trudged along, dragging his feet with every step. His body felt heavy under its own weight. Ruby flush overtook his cheeks as sweat rippled down his brow. He was starting to chafe in his clothes, badly. As much as he loved his letterman, it needed to come off.

He hastily unzipped his jacket and yanked out his arms. Sweat stains darkened the chest and underarms of his grey crewneck. As he slung the jacket over his shoulder, Gram scratched away at his arm. The itching was insane. It wasn't stopping. Finally, he gathered himself enough to look down at his wrist, desperate to figure out what the hell was going on.

He wished he didn't look.

"The fuck?" The ailing young man looked rightfully concerned, as a field of angular ridges coated his left forearm. They were small, just barely visible to the naked eye, but clear enough that you'd notice them on your skin. As Gram scratched at the apparent rash, he noticed how rough and bumpy it felt, like fingering a slip of sandpaper.

The scratching reached his elbow, then his upper arm. It was wrapping around his shoulder. He'd never itched so much in his life! Unabashedly, Gram tore off his t-shirt to better reach the problem spots.

But now the problem was all over his chest.

*What he thought was a rash, actually ended up being something along the lines of...a rust brown, leathery skin graft? And it was spreading uncontrollably.*

Disgusted by the abrasive pattern crawling along his chest and abdomen, Gram bolted back to the bathroom as quickly as he could in his fevered haze. He stumbled a few times on the way.

Tossing not just his shirt, but his jacket and pants to the side, the itchy young man threw on the faucet and practically began bathing himself. It wasn't helping. It was kind of making things worse. His skin felt dry despite the moisture and hotter despite the cold tap. This was fucking insane.

*The water only increased the spread of the problem, causing his chest to pound and burn. It wasn't searing, but it was getting there.

Despite his improvised shower, Gram felt the sweat sticking to him like duct tape, and the more he suffered from this "ailment" the more he wanted to be rid of it. He examined his athletic, Caucasian body in the mirror. The brown spots were spreading. Some were even turning grey.*

Gram groaned out of nausea and general bewilderment, pressing his forehead to the glass mirror as if it could relieve his migraine. His hands scratched randomly at his chest and side, unsure of how to relive the growing sting in his skin.

"Ok," came a familiar and frankly irritating voice. "I cleaned up the hall, let's head back to the aquarium and we'll..."

Kevin stared, dumbfounded. Gram's behavior never ceased to disturb him. "Dude, I don't think you needed to strip just clean off your puke."

"Shut...up...bitch," Gram shot back at a slower pace than normal. Where had his fiery temperament gone, Kevin wondered. Expunged with his bile?

"Ok, whatever you're doing, just hurry up and get dressed. I have to get up early tomorrow. Today, actually." Kevin checked his phone for the millionth time tonight. 12:30.

"Stop fucking...rushing me. Something's...wrong."

"Look, if you're gonna keep dicking around at least give me my shit back, and I'll go wait by the door." The shorter boy began digging through the pile of clothes on the floor. Gram had gotten what he came for tonight, and so would he.

Gram approached him with fists balled. "Don't go...through my --" A sharp crack rang out in the bathroom. Like branches breaking in a storm. It was loud enough to be heard over the running faucet. It made Kevin turn his head.

Gram fell to his knees and screamed for mercy.

His back....something was wrong with his back...

*He pulled in his knees as a terrible bout of electric sharp pain shot through his spine.

The grey, leathery, rash-y skin reached all around his torso now. And it looked like his back was bubbling. Something was shifting under it.

"W-what the...fuck..?" Kevin uttered in disbelief.

Gram clasped his mouth to cover his screaming. A fresh new bump was slowly and excruciatingly pushing up from of his back.*

One hand gagging him, the boy curled over on himself, twisting and wriggling his torso like a worm in the dirt. The agony was unbearable, worse than any injury he'd experienced on the field -- maybe save for that fractured femur, but this was a tight competition.

Kevin stood just a few feet away, watching this grey-brownish rash envelop Gram's sides and back. It had a strange, fractured texture to it. He swore he recognized it from...something. Still, he wasn't about to examine it any closer. The sight before him was disturbing enough at a distance.

There was something on Gram's back, something that definitely wasn't present before. The crackling and creaking noises could be traced to it like the epicenter of a quake. His skin was pulsating, writhing even. Every vertebra shivered along with him. Just behind his shoulder blades, there was a growing hump -- whether made of flesh or bone, Kevin couldn't say, but there were dilated veins pathing into it. It was almost alien.

The strange deformity began to expand upward. Throbbing. It pulled and pulled, tightening the skin around the back of his ribs. Its fleshy zenith ascended centimeters at a time. Slowly, the tumor-like mass lost its rounded shape and became almost angular. It began curving backwards in an arc. What the hell was this thing?

Gram moaned into his cupped hand as he felt his spine burn and twist. The lump behind him pulsated in time with his sprinting heartbeat. His eyes, on the verge of tears, met briefly with Kevin's. They were pleading for relief.

*Kevin could only watch as the protrusion cracked and forced its way out of his aggressor's back. In one way, it was almost like karma. But on the other hand, it wasn't pretty to look at...

Gram moaned more as the vertebrae wracked against each other, and the sound of his bones clacking vibrated out into the room.

"F-ffuuaaagghkk..! Help m-mrreee!" Gram whined.

"W-what do you want me to do?!" Kevin said in a hushed tone.*

The cowering jock had no answer to give, simply resigning himself to more pained mumbling on the floor. Kevin was outright stunned by the biological anomaly unraveling before him. He was almost inclined to believe it was a dream or a hallucination, but for Gram, this was all too real.

If anything, it felt like a living nightmare.

Gram's back muscles clenched and shifted about, making room for this growing addition to his dorsal side. It grew and grew into its curving shape until it towered high above the boy's head. It had to be over a foot in length, if Kevin could guesstimate from afar. A final snap hit its crescendo, forcing the deformity to angle down about 30 degrees, before the churning and crackling noises quelled like a finished orchestra.

Kevin lingered in a silence damped only by Gram's labored breaths -- the pain was steadily trailing off, along with the sweltering brain fog he'd been experiencing prior. The blonde tried to regain his bearings. He was kneeling on the floor of a cold public bathroom, in only his boxers, with something seriously fucked up on his back, while his partner-in-crime stared like deer on a highway. This was all kinds of embarrassing.

Steadying himself, Gram glanced over his shoulder, then up to Kevin, who looked at him like a circus freak.

"What...what the fuck is on my back?"

"Uh..." Kevin started, peering over the young man's drooping shoulder. He barely had the words to formulate a coherent answer. His brain was in dissonance, fighting to reach the most logical yet illogical answer. "If I had to guess...you'd probably just hit me again."

*"Just fuckin' say it, bastard!" Gram yelled. It hurt to shout. All the screaming and groaning into his hands was taxing on his voice. Too impatient to wait for an answer, he reached behind his back to feel the protrusion as best he could.

Kevin sighed, taking a deep breath and observing the growth again. "Well...from the looks of it...if I had to guess…it looks like a shark fin."

Gram looked up at Kevin as he heard the stupidest thing come from one of the smartest, nerdiest kids he knew. "Are you fuckin' insane?! Fins don't just grow from people's backs!"

"And people don't usually strip in a bathroom while they're trying to get away with a crime!"*

As Gram's fingertips grazed the disturbing addition to his back, the jock couldn't help but cringe. The skin felt coarse like sandpaper, yet fleshy and alive. More worrisome, he could feel his finger poking at it as though it was just another limb. The sensation was nauseating, but at least his argument with boy-genius was a decent distraction.

"You sound fucking stupid, Bait. How do you even know it's a shark?"

"Well, for one, I took AP bio. It's too straight to be a dolphin, and I figured you would find whale more insulting..."

*The two bickering boys never noticed the spread of the leathery skin on the jock's hands, not until his fingers began to audibly crack and curl into the tiled floor.*

"You're mom's a fucking whale, you bit --" Gram's half-assed insult was cut short as a tremor of pain shook his free hand and slammed it into the cold ground. The familiar crackling sounds resonated against the ground, causing even Kevin to wince.

"Fuck...f-fuckin'...stop," The boy cried as he felt the bones in his hand start to twitch and readjust. Though he kept a fist closed in agony, Gram could feel the tendons around his knuckles begin to pull back. He could even see them twitching under his skin as they forced his palm open against the floor. Soon enough, his other hand joined in.

An irritating burn lined the insides of his fingers, like his hand was too far into a flame. The jock could only stare in confusion as the skin between each digit...started to grow. From the palm to the second knuckle, Gram watched his flesh gain new ground, lacing little flaps of grey skin to connect his fingers. But it wasn't just linking them together -- it was pulling on them.

"No, no, no, what is this?" Gram whimpered as he felt his fingers compress together. He tried with all his might to splay them, wiggle them, keep them separate by any means. If he had something sharp, he would even...

"G-Give me the tooth, asshole! Now!" He cried out to his single onlooker.

Kevin wasn't sure how to respond beyond a simple "Uh...ok?" He didn't see how that could help, but how else could he react to seeing a human hand begin spontaneous mutation? This was unprecedented.

Hastily, the smaller teen ran to Gram's belongings and began searching the pockets of his pants. Jeeze, when did he wash these last?

*"I-In my jacket! Kuuaaaaahhh!" Gram screamed aloud with no hand to cover his mouth as his knuckles disintegrated -- his fingers and joints snapping and breaking as they pushed into one another.

The skin was writhing and merging, and his fingers were getting thinner...and longer.

"HURRY MOTHERFUCKER!!!!" he yelled, making Kevin jump out of his skin as he frantically dug through the pockets. Eventually, a small short clinking sound caught his ear as the tooth fell out on the dirty, wet floor. It couldn't be worth THAT much now.*

The weathered fang fell forward and clanked against the floor, but fortunately, it landed within reach of the writhing Gram. Even as his fingers lengthened and deformed into a thin mass of flesh, he desperately reached out to coddle the artifact -- the likely cause of his current trauma and hopefully the solution.

Unfortunately, Gram couldn't grasp it.

Hands long devolved from their human dexterity, he was relegated to pawing at the tooth like a dog with a tennis ball. With grunts and efforts, he tried to grip it, even though the muscles in his hands wouldn't respond...since they no longer existed. Even trying to cup the thing in both "palms" was proving fruitless.

"Ah, fuck. No, no, not my fuckin' hands!" Gram cried, slamming his warped appendages onto the floor once again. Some part of him was glad he failed to mutilate himself, but it was buried under the fury and disgust at his own body. If that idiot was right about the fin on his back, does that mean his hands were...

"Tch." A hiss of air, barely a word, made Gram's blood boil. His red, tired eyes rolled up to meet Kevin, whose own glare was filled with some mix of contempt and humor. There was a word for that, right? He barely remembered anything from German class, but there definitely was one.

Either way, it pissed him off. "Did you just fuckin' laugh at me?" Gram threatened murder in so few words.

Kevin resisted the small smirk creeping onto his face. "No, no, it's not that I find this funny. I just don't know how you're going to throw a football at me without fingers. Or, y'know, dunk me in the toilet anymore. It's a little relieving."

A guttural growl rose from the changing boy's throat. He had less patience than usual, which was already nil. The last thing he needed was lip from his bait. "Shut the fuck up, freak!"

"Said the pot to the kettle."

Despite his pain and exhaustion, the blonde forced himself onto his feet before nearly slipping on the wet tile. This fucking thing on his back was warping his center of balance. His paddle-like hands slapped quickly onto the sink, which he straddled with the remaining strength in his upper arms. It felt so fucking weird.

Knees wobbling, Gram shimmied his way across the bathroom, closing the distance between him and a surprisingly smug Kevin, who stood undaunted even as the jock towered before him.

"You want to fuckin' say that again?" he whispered.

"While you still have ears? Sure --"

Slam.

Whatever the hell Gram's hand had mutated into, it just smacked Kevin in the side of the head.

"Bait? Fucking. Help me."

*The sting hurt pretty badly, but not as much as it would've -- if his assailant still had fingers.

"I dunno what you want me to say, dude. This is all wacko to me."

Gram's body was a mess. His arms were covered in this leathery sort of sandpaper-like texture. It tattooed itself all over his chest and arms and...were his biceps shrinking? As a matter of fact...were his ARMS shrinking?

Cracks and snaps filled the room again as Gram's arms began to shorten extensively, making his skin sort of bunch up and migrate to other places where needed. "H-Holy fuck?! AUUGH!!!" His elbows started to straighten and become one long bone. All of his bones were going to shit.

"Ouch... I know that has to hurt." Kevin quipped.*

"S-Shut up and do s-something! Arghh!"

Gram's formerly toned biceps and triceps began to sizzle out of existence. The sound of melding and reforming bone was reminiscent of frying eggs and bacon, but instead of salivating, the changing boy could only scream in horror. As the joints between his upper and lower arms stiffened and degraded, he was left with his two paddle-like hands splayed out to his sides, beyond his control.

The boiling pain marched up into his shoulders, which were feeling surprisingly fluid in contrast. All the panicked wiggling Gram could accomplish with his shrinking arms – well, it was being driven from his shoulders. The motion was so slick that, without warning, Gram's arms dislocated from their joints. Permanently.

"Fuck! F-fuck!" He roared, wiggling his giant flipper-like limbs in protest. They bent back and forth much farther than a human arm could reach. Both limbs were only attached through skin and muscle now, no hard structures within. Kevin could only watch as the boy's shoulder blades and clavicle shrank beneath his skin. Luckily, he'd developed a strong stomach over the years, or else the sight would've been nauseating.

His stomach was only strong from Gram shoving him in the garbage all the time.

The mutating young man was looking thoroughly inhuman now -- a head and trunk with legs, two wedge-like extensions on his sides and flank. The whole idea was revolting. Gram looked down at his...fins...with disdain. What had he done to deserve this? Really? Why him, and not the freak standing across the room, now leaning back against the wall observing like Gram was some sideshow? What was he supposed to do now?

"Look, Bai...Kevin. Please." Gram swallowed his pride for the first time in ages. "I don't know what to do. You have to help me. Use the tooth, make some antidote or something, I don't know. I just can't take much more of this."

His pleas were met with a shrug. "While I'm glad you deduced the cause of your...uh...transformation...I honestly don't think there's a scientific explanation for this. However, I do have one temporary solution. It's just going to cost you."

"You want money? Fine, take the tooth. And I'll go pawn off some of my dad's shit too."

Kevin stomped forward, pushing himself from the wall and approaching with a new vindictive strength.

"No, goddamnit, I want my shit back! Where's my fucking camera?"

Gram stood silent, staring daggers into his trading partner. Even his transformation seemed to pause in hesitation.

He growled at the shorter boy and rolled his eyes. "...Jesus Christ, you really are a pervert."

*Kevin kneeled down at his once-assailant. "I don't think you're one to be name-calling here. Have you taken a look at yourself?" He gestured to Gram's mutated body. The stubby arms and hands, the large angular fin, and...did his eyes look farther apart?

"F-ffffuuuuck you, Kevin! Rggh!" He grunted as small cracks resounded in the room once again, this time in his toes and legs. If Gram wanted help, he should have asked for it sooner. With the way this is going, he wouldn't be walking out of here on two legs.

"I'll repeat myself. Where. Is. My. Camera?" Kevin doubled down on his offer as he observed Gram's continued transformation.*

Gram dug his toes into the floor, desperate to resist the change just long enough to argue with his Bait-gone-sour. Of all the fucking times for Kevin to grow a spine, this was literally the worst.

"You're out of your goddamn mind! I'm here turning into some kind of fish freak, and all you care about is your goddamn pervy spy bullshit!"

"I thought you liked my spy bullshit? That's why you dragged me here, blackmailed me into doing all your grunt work? Because for the first time, this wasn't something you could just…"

Thump.

"Punch your way through?" Kevin quipped as his fist lightly tapped Gram's eerily grey chest, sending the precariously balanced boy down to the floor once again.

The smack on his ass stung, but nowhere near as much as his dorsal fin bending back against the tile. Gram yelped as he rolled onto his side to relieve the pressure. This thing on his back was ridiculously sensitive, like it was tied straight to his spine. The lingering ache ran down his whole body.

Gram grunted in agitation and flapped his flippers in rebellion. He even tried kicking at Kevin, though the bigheaded twerp was just out of reach. "Goddamnit! Why do you need them back, huh? You don't have enough videos of me in the locker room?"

Kevin rolled his eyes at the thought. "Don't flatter yourself. You are by far the least attractive player on your team." Briefly, he thought back to his footage from the team's summer practices. Gram was a low 4 in a sea of 9-and-a-halves.

"Piss off bitch! When I get out of here, I'm turning you the fuck in! You're gonna be on a predator list for the rest of your life!"

Smack. A much harder one than before.

Kevin's sneaker made contact with the back of Gram's thigh, forcing a cry from the writhing young man. God that felt good.

"You assume you're going to make it out of here with a voice box. Either tell me, or I'll just dig through all your shit posthumously. Sorry, is that too big a word for you?"

Gram growled, gnashing his teeth to the point of aching. Or, at least he hoped that's why they were aching.

"Son of a...ugh...u-under my fuckin' bed."

Kevin chuckled, pulling out his phone. "Along with a dozen dried-out socks, no doubt. I'll be sure to pay your father a visit after the funeral. After I tell him you're dead, by the way."

"What? Are you gonna call for help? That's all you --" Gram's breath hitched as the pain returned to his toes. He looked down to see them curl and shudder against his will, the sound of crackling fire whispering in the air. He was going to pay for resisting this long.

"Who the hell would I call, Gram? No one's going to make more sense of this than I can. But...I can at least film you for scientific purposes. People would pay millions for this footage."

Kevin pressed record the moment Gram began screaming again.

*His camera inched closer and closer to Gram's changing toes as bones began to meld and bend in unnatural ways. The screaming jock couldn't handle his toes being stretched and broken and mended on repeat. What once was curled up was now being changed into a flat paddle-like structure. Almost like his hands, but...this was different.

A burning in his heels occurred as they began moving closer to one another. He tried to resist, but his thighs were moving on their own. The moment they made contact was like two pieces of molten metal pressing and fusing into each other. Meanwhile, his legs, now stiff as a board, made a loud, guttural, sickening sound as his knees popped straight and cracked into position.

The gap between what was once his legs began to seal like a Ziploc back. A wet and meaty squelching sound could be heard from the merging flesh. The footballer, once a fairly muscular dude, was now a hunk of leathery, finned meat on the bathroom floor.

"Oh yeah, people are gonna pay LOTS for this." Kevin remarked, getting up extra close to Gram's toes as they spread and thinned out into webbed slabs. Every inch of the change caused Gram to moan and groan in garbled yelps.*

The pain overwhelmed Gram's legs like a tidal wave, tearing more and more humanity away. His toes curled and writhed, splaying wide beyond their natural bounds as skin flaps began to grow in each expanding gap. The same crushing expansion that swept over his hands was amplified in his feet. This change was massive.

"Jesus, make it stop! Please! Kevin!" Gram hollered, kicking desperately to relieve the agony in his lower half. He failed to notice how his kicks began to synchronize as both legs moved in tandem with one another. His elongating arches flicked through the air like a deep diver's rubber fins. In fact, his feet were bending so far back and forth, they may as well be made of the same material. Seeing his own feet curling upward was nauseating.

The kicking continued until his heels brushed together one too many times. Soon, they wouldn't come apart. Something innate was drawing them together. No matter how hard Gram resisted, his feet were begging to be close to one another. But touching wasn't enough. The pain turned to scorching heat as his flesh began to merge once more, melding his heels and ankles together in an impossible bond.

"Oh wow," Kevin said with forced amazement. "That's how you're growing the tail, huh? Weird."

Ignoring the bastard's sideline commentary, Gram watched with teary eyes as his feet began to merge on the insides as well, pulling his extremities into a singular blob. He could barely feel the motion of his individual ankles. The joints were feeling stiff...yet flexible in a new way.

The warping heat crept up higher along his claves, then his thighs, then his groin. Heat flushed his face as Gram watched the merging skin ride up his legs in an aggressive beeline for his more private parts. Aggressive was the correct word, as the force of his skin melding started to tear apart the legs of his boxers. Fuck. The last thing he wanted was this pervy nerd to see his dick...though it probably wasn't the first time given the boy's "hobby."

Gram's legs looked like they were stuffed in a sausage casing, the indents of his knees and hips jutting up from his skin just enough to be seen. That wouldn't last, however. The shattering of bones could be heard from outer space. A series of yelps poured out of the boy as he watched his knees and ankles crunch and merge at the skeletal level, warbling around under his skin with ease. Even his hips and lower back weren't spared the pain as bone began to fuse and distort.

Crack. Snap. Flash.

Gram's nerves lit up like lightning, sending a shock from his neck to the tips of what were once his toes. The bones of his legs rearranged in such a way that they were compressing into a singular extension of his spine, and now one long strand of nerves ran from head to tail. This was his lateral line. It did not belong on a human body.

Once an angry young man desperate for control, Gram grew closer and closer to resembling an amalgamation of flesh and wedges. Though he was still angry, he'd literally lost his grip on life and now floundered about on the floor, shouting in agony at the internal onslaught he faced. And it was only going to get worse.

Kevin would've found it quite sad if not for the sweet, ironic schadenfreude. A simple pleasure of German origin.

Speaking of pleasure, he couldn't help but notice something poking up from his classmate's tattered boxers. The garment was holding on only by the waistband, with much of its fabric torn apart by the metamorphosis. Kevin was staring. What he'd only seen once or twice on camera was now live, just a few feet away. It was cuter in person.

Gram felt heat tear through his former crotch, just as he felt Kevin's eyes target his unfortunately timed erection. The jock had never been so embarrassed in his life. Even through the pain and confusion, he had words to exchange.

"God, fuck! Stop looking at my di -- Arghhh!" His words were interrupted by a cry of anguish. The hot sting of change had reached its next destination and began to conquer it.

Something was wrong with Gram's cock.

*"Why would I stop looking now? I would just miss all the fun!" Kevin zoomed in on the prized rod that glistened and twitched before him.

Unlike most fish in the sea -- and really, any living being save a few -- sharks have very...we'll say…interesting cocks. In fact, they have two! Kind of. So, how does a poor jock boy gain two dicks in the span of a couple minutes?

As it turns out, his guts had to do a little hurdle-hopping. Gram could only lay there and take it, wining and moaning on repeat. The tug and rush of blood running through his length made goose bumps pop out of his skin as he could feel a sort of...tugging? No. Tearing in his flesh.

Below, he could see that right down the middle…his urethra was starting to split apart. The sight alone would make anyone wish they hadn't been gifted such a spectacle. Except for Kevin, of course.

The writhing teen screamed and rolled in agony as his cock began to mold and form into two thick, very prehensile shark cocks. Even separated, they were still quite close to each other at the base.

"Stop fucking moving! I can't get a good shot!" Kevin ordered as he moved the camera every which way. Filming a bunch of dudes in the locker room was easy -- just a simple film setup that hid inside some unused clothes. But this…this took work.

Still, it was so worth it.

"Damn, am I glad you don't have legs anymore. I couldn't pass up capturing these bad boys!"*

The sensation Gram experienced was hard to describe in earnest. You could imagine someone tearing your cock in half with their bare hands, or perhaps with some metal instrument, but the pure horror and anguish he felt couldn't easily be replicated or faked. His hands and feet had hurt earlier. This was torture.

Gram slapped at the floor with his upper and lower fins -- no longer "limbs" in any regard -- now powerless to alleviate the pain in his most sensitive region. Despite the twisting and turning, his neck would bend or rotate quite like it should, forcing the young man to move more from his pelvic region. Of course, Gram didn't notice this at the time, not with more pressing matters to deal with.

His cock, soon to be cocks, twitched and writhed like his tailfin did. It too was bending abnormally. The shafts were curving to the sides as they split, angled uncomfortably outwards. Despite the feeling of hardness and awkward arousal, Gram's length wasn't pointing up to the ceiling like before. It was more eager to point back towards his head.

As the divot in his cockhead grew and grew, forcing a fissure through his flesh with a wet slorping noise, the small crown of his circumcised member began melting into the rest of his shaft. The division between the head (or perhaps heads) of his dick and the shaft(s) was all but gone.

Gram whimpered and wailed throughout the process, glancing down at his mutating genitalia just enough to gauge when it would be finished. He could feel the division reaching the base of his length, perfectly bisecting his manhood. Twin shafts were now staring back at him, their pointed tips aimed like dual pistols. Fucking gross.

From his angle, Kevin could see the brownish-grey flesh that had wrapped around Gram's former legs slowly encroach on the boy's duplicated shafts. The "claspers," as they were formally named, twitched and flicked about above the boy's former abdomen. It was both fascinating and disgusting to observe. These extensions were specifically evolved for a type of animal with limited flexibility and range of motion. The type of animal Gram was clearly becoming.

"If it's any consolation Gram, you're packing at least double what you used to down there," Kevin snickered, zooming in close on the newly molded mounds of flesh.

The former bully was on the verge of tears once more, unable to give a snappier comeback than a simple, "Shut up! Just shut up."

Another groan came as Gram felt the flesh ache on both sides of his cock. Cocks. Fucking plural. Skin began to pinch and pull where his hips used to be, flowering into small wedges similar to the deformity on his back. These would be his pelvic fins. He could almost make them twitch of his own accord.

In a flash, another heat struck...this time from within his core. Just behind his cocks. It was warm and familiar, yet entirely unwanted at the moment. It couldn't be. Not right now.

"Fuck...fuck, turn away! Don't fucking look at me." Gram warbled on the ground, trying to flip himself over and hide his twitching shafts. "C'mon! C'mon! Ugh!"

"Oh my god, don't think you're turning away from this!" Kevin hollered gleefully, rushing over and pushing him back down with his foot. He knew what was coming. What the changing young man would never want caught on camera. It was hilarious.

"Fuck! No, no, no!" Gram cried, feeling his twin claspers throb and flex. The heat swelled within his core. It boiled like water on the stovetop. Warm, hot, vicious. "Fuck!"

Gram's lower body buckled as he thrust his tail into the air. Twin rivers of heat rushed up onto his abdomen, streaming from the jock's cocks like a dam burst. One stream even went so far as to graze his chin. It made him want to gag.

Kevin could only laugh as he stepped back from the twitching form of the post-coitus man-shark.

"Would you like a towel?" he asked coyly.

*Gram growled, though it was more of a gurgle at this point. He could feel himself losing his voice, his throat closing and opening and choking on his very words. The former man, now covered in his own splooge, cried out in embarrassment and feral anger.

"Grraauughhll .. ! K-kill... Riiaagghll... Kill oooh!!" His jaw was starting to stiffen, a stinging sensation tugging at his nose and upper lip.

"Karma sure is a bitch, huh, Gram?" Kevin kneeled inches away from the man's flailing, deforming body as he captured it all in HD. "Man, I'll tell you what. This is way better than rewatching shit on my computer. I guess I do gotta get out more." The nerd gave one last smirk before stepping back, watching the shark teen finish up his last bit of squandered wailing.*

It became more evident with each passing second that Gram's humanity was lost. Lingering droplets of his load dribbled from his chin as it began to round and widen, while strangely thinning at the same time. His vocal cords were deteriorating to the point he could only produce guttural growls, though they were still filled with rage aimed straight at his traitorous compatriot. Gram himself couldn't tell if he was cursing Kevin out or pleading for relief. Maybe both. He was never the best at communicating his feelings.

All he could do was stare and groan at the nerdy boy for a bit longer until sharp cracks of muscle and bone forced his head backwards into the tile. He hollered as his skull slammed against the ground, but he'd grown used to concussions from his time on the field. What Gram wasn't prepared for was the sudden burning in the back of his head or the impossible stiffness that resulted. As vertebrae fused and realigned near the top of his neck, Gram's skull readjusted its connection to his spine with a SNAP. The angle was all wrong. Upward was his new forward.

The former human groaned as best he could, now staring with no recourse at the blank bathroom wall. Flesh thickened around his neck and jaw, practically bloating with muscle, as some new aquatic features were about to make themselves known. He could barely turn his head, but he felt his whole body serpentine when he tried to move. It was like being a worm, wriggling and flailing, but somehow worse. Writhing was getting him nowhere.

"I'm sure you spent a lot of time staring at the wall in grade school," Kevin chuckled.

Beyond his range of vision, Gram felt another crackling overtake what was once his ankles. Now home to his tail fin, the edge of his massive propeller began twitching and floundering in agony. His fins were growing longer again, now eager to reach their zenith. As they lengthened, a terrible twisting feeling rolled up beneath his flesh. It reminded Gram of rotating his knees, but bound and forced beyond their constraints. He couldn't stop his body from twisting itself, as if he had the energy to try.

Kevin zoomed in on the sight. The final traces of Gram's feet were lost as his tail fin rose from the ground and spun clockwise, locking his trailing tips into a vertical orientation. Another tower jutting up from his warped form.

With his phone steady, Kevin took a close survey of what had become of the boy formerly known as Gram. His feet had twisted into flippers. His legs were stitched together down to the core. His manhood had bisected and bent up into spires. Gone were the visible abs of an athlete -- even his belly button and nipples were sinking into the grey flesh of his torso. It was incredible to think that from the head down, his greatest tormentor was rendered powerless.

Another creaking of bone. Another scratchy wail.

Scratch that...his head was next to go.

Gram's vision blurred as a monumental migraine flooded his temples. His skull was expanding, not simply swelling, but growing forward and out to the sides. Especially to the sides. The boy's eyes were flying farther apart in a truly hideous manner. His forehead sloped down further and further, stretching to make up the difference.

It was an impossible sensation, or at least it should have been. His brain ached in its chamber as Gram's skull widened beneath his skin. He could no longer think straight through the blinding pain. The cries from his expanding maw had no meaning or intention beyond impulse. This would be the end for him.

*“Man, talk about a mindless beast. Looks like that's all you'll ever be,"

Kevin sighed. “So, not much has changed, really."

He leaned forward, getting all the money shots for his blog. They were gonna love this.*

The 90% shark steadily lost his last traces of humanity. His ironing board of a head bulged and blossomed outward, small rounded ridges forming where the eyes left the skull. The once blue eyes of a young man dimmed in the light as the whitest parts filled up with an inky black -- like a fountain pen drained into water. Much like the rest of the skull, his lower jaw slimmed and widened till it was no thicker than a dinner plate, and as if preparing for a meal, the beast drooled onto the bathroom tile. A stream of saliva soon stained red as the sting of change rippled through his gums, forcing his teeth out and onto the floor. A guttural cough left its throat as blood and spittle leaked backwards into its windpipe. Fortunately, no teeth were swallowed in the process.

In their stead, the two rows of dull mammalian calcium were replaced by row after row of daggers, perfectly identical to the almost-stolen artifact. Rivers of red saliva carried gummy viscera onto the tile beneath the shark's pathetic excuse for a chin.

He slapped the ground with his fins, flicking his tail left and right in any attempt to communicate his frustration and despair.

“Did you know that sharks have several rows of teeth, Gram? Obviously not, you never listen in class. But I bet you feel them all leaving your gums, right?"

The former human did, in fact, know that. The aquatics exhibit had an encyclopedia's worth of shark facts, despite having no living sharks available.

*Satisfied with his footage, the young cinematographer reached down and gently rubbed at the hammerhead's…well…head! The beast's long, protruding eyes pushed the sockets out of their natural comfort zone and into something more fitting for the creature.*

The animal once known as Gram was beside himself. His mind remained intact, though tortured by his physical trauma and left with a profound migraine. Despite his efforts, his anger had plateaued and stalled, giving way to simple bewilderment. He was a pure animal, outside and in. By the cosmic force of that terrible tooth, his air-breathing hadn't fully vanished yet, but the growing tightness in what used to be his chest signaled a ticking clock.

Rustling through the shark's belongings, Kevin found that the tooth was long gone again. Fine. It was of little importance. He'd rather be off with Gram's ID and cell phone, certain to erase traces of the former human male -- though it wouldn't hurt to catfish on his socials and stage a runaway first.

“Rest in peace, dude!"

With the slapping of fins behind him, Kevin turned back into the hallway.

But he stopped just outside the bathroom. He'd flicked on Gram's lock screen and saw the photo again. That stupid photo. That stupid boy's stupid backstory, ripped out of a YA novel, as if it could possibly make Kevin sympathetic to his cause.

The whole trip was an exercise in blackmail, and yet it brought out this weird, nostalgic side of Gram. Kevin wasn't going to buy it, right? He wasn't that gullible. Was that story even true? Was the woman in the photo really…?

Well, either way…

It was so dumb.

So fucking dumb.

So dumb to leave Gram's smelly clothes trailing outside the bathroom.

So dumb that when Kevin exited the building, he remotely triggered an alert on the second floor.

The dumbest thing he'd ever think to do.

Fuck you, Gram. That was the last thought he'd have of the boy.

In the following days, their little suburban town was rocked by news of the break-in. However, there was no sign of theft. All museum property was accounted for, even the latest addition -- an ancient tooth that stood proudly within its tightly sealed casing, seemingly untouched.

Instead, there was a special delivery. A hammerhead shark was left in the upstairs men's room. Perhaps an animal rights organization was playing a prank or something.

The story of the hammerhead spread fast, and the museum saw fit to provide a home, at least for now. It seemed physically unwell and would need care until it could be released to the wild. In the meantime, the staff figured it wouldn't object to some company.

A more salacious headline was making its rounds by the following week. A junior at [REDACTED] high school was arrested for sexual harassment charges, among some other scathing accusations. The student, [REDACTED], 18, was found placing cameras in the boy's locker room. Further examination of his computer revealed a large storage of media depicting his fellow students changing, many of whom were not of age. The man is currently facing arraignment.

Another student, one who appeared in the footage, was declared missing. No other details were currently available.

Though Gram caught wind of this news from the chatter of the crowd around his tank, he paid it little mind. He smiled inwardly at the thought of Kevin's arrest, but with less malice than he may have once had. It wasn't worth holding a grudge anymore. This had been Gram's idea from the start.

He paid the price in the end.

As the former human made the rounds through the water with nothing better to do than observe the locals, he came to appreciate the look of wonder that crossed their faces, particularly the children's. They might never have seen a shark before in person. He had the honor of being their first.

It was an expression of amazement that had long left his own, years before he'd lost his humanity. It was, in hindsight, a decent trade. He'd never return to a cold, unwelcoming house. He'd never be ignored. He'd never go hungry again.

At least here, Gram felt at home.

He felt like a kid again.