It was supposed to be approaching spring, but Estefano was cold. Because it looked warm outside, he left his tight down jacket in his car, but now he regretted that decision. It may only be March, he thought, but weather forecasters should tell the truth. It hadn’t been the forecasted fifty-five degrees; it was more like forty-five. Quite a difference. He wondered vaguely if he should mention them to the men in black suits, the ones who’d been calling on him at random times and sending him threatening letters. If they wanted that group of people captured, maybe they could make some other changes around the world, too…

Estefano waddled down the steps next to the library in Baltimore, huffing. He wore a tight purple sweatshirt and black pants hitched to his waist; the overall effect on him was that of a bulbous turnip bobbing awkwardly to class. Clutched in his arms were papers, and on the last step his ankle turned and he sprawled forward.

“Crap!” he yelled.

A few students passed by him, stepped over his fallen papers and continued on.

“A little help?” he said, then waved them away with his hand. They ignored him completely and moved on. He could feel his face turn red as another person stepped on the sheet he was picking up. It tore.

“Do you mind!” he shouted at the student, who was wearing a navy blue hoodie. The person didn’t respond, only stiffened and continued to walk onward.

His anger smoldering in his chest, Estefano glared at the student and made a karate-chop motion at him. It was purely instinctual.

A green haze materialized from the tips of his fingers and shot towards the kid, who didn’t suspect anything. In fact, when the green cloud descended upon him, Estefano watched as it seemed to ruffle his clothing and settle, soaking into the fabric. Was it soaking? More like clinging. Or maybe settling. Estefano couldn’t be sure. In fact, he wasn’t sure of anything these days, with all of the weird occurrences. And he really needed a new glasses prescription or something; he took them off his face and rubbed them with the cuff of his sleeve.

Less than five seconds after the cloud had settled into the stranger’s skin—even as he drew further and further away from Estefano, close to the Biology building—the student began to twitch.

At first it was a minimal twitch, almost as if the guy—his hood fell off to reveal matted sandy blonde hair, cut close to his scalp—had an itch between his shoulder blades. Quickly, however, he began to writhe. He dropped his books and twisted his body around, his arms flailing for an invisible spot to scratch. It got worse; his arms didn’t stop flailing, but then he sunk to his knees and cried out in pain.

Even Estefano, cramming his glasses back on his face, saw what was happening. This was saying something for Estefano, who had barely noticed that the van next to him had melted.

“Oh my gosh!” he said. “Did anyone else see that?”

“We certainly did,” came a voice.

Estefano jumped and shrieked. He felt his body break out in sweat, and when he unclenched his hands he noticed that the paper wilted in his hands. It seemed to have a mild green pallor to it.

“You really scared me,” he said.

“We’ll do a lot more than just scare you if you don’t keep yourself under control.” The voice was menacing now, soft, almost whispered.

Estefano turned his gaze away from the melting boy and faced his former captors. They were standing several yards away from him with masks, but their eyes were visible. Estefano wondered vaguely why they always wore masks around him. He found that offensive.

“I did do what you said. I told you where those guys hung out, and that’s all you asked of me.” Estefano turned to leave but there was a gloved hand clapped on both shoulders.

“Well, we’ve decided to change the deal a bit.” The man who spoke to him was the leader, the man with the glasses from before.

Estefano became indignant and wrenched himself out of the other two men’s grasp. “I don’t have to come with you!” he shouted. “I already told you what you wanted to know!”

And as he turned something caught his eye, a glint of black metal taken discreetly out of the leader’s trench coat. A barrel, and a trigger. It was all Estefano saw in an instant; no longer did he see the sky and the trees or the dead person in front of him, the person that he had killed. Estefano felt a cold shiver move up his spine, and it made his stomach uneasy. He trembled.

“You’ll come with us, and you won’t protest. We need more information, and you’ll give it to us or the rest of the deal is off. You won’t see a thing. Your body won’t be fixed, and your life will be as sad and lonely as it is now.”

Estefano pursed his lips, but knew that he had to do what they said. He didn’t want to be ugly forever.

“That’s right. Remember the deal: you help us, and we’ll make sure you have the life you always wanted. Asian women, manga endlessly, lots of friends fawning all over you. And a perfect body.” The skin around the man’s cold eyes wrinkled as if to smile. “We found them at the restaurant, but they escaped. We need to know more about them. All of them. Their habits, their girlfriends and boyfriends. What they do for a living. Everything.”

Estefano paused.

He’d known he was going to cooperate with these people the moment the image of him and his new friends had come to mind. There’d been no question. He shrugged his shoulders forward, fixed his sweatshirt, and followed just a few paces behind.