Chapter One

Mistakes were something Kyreas made often, and now was one such example as they sat in the bar. Men leaned up against the table trying to flirt and get into their pants, as they often did to visitors like them. They remained nonchalant, used to the behavior. These aroused men crowed their spot and made terrible attempts at flirting. A one-night stand, or a relationship was not something that they were looking for. Commitment was something they were not suited for. Liquor was all the way for them and they had come for just a drink. Taking a sip of their whiskey, loving the way the liquor did its magic down their throat.

Alcohol, it was the only way Kyreas knew to fix their problems. To forget about the horrible things, they went through. To, even slightly, understand what was happening to them. To let loose. They knew it wasn't very healthy, but it worked. The burning sensation of the alcohol sliding down their throat. The feeling of their brain slipping into that hazy, fuzzy confusion. It was relieving.

Kyreas had gotten into alcohol at a young age. Their tolerance grew, but so did their need. By the age of nineteen, Kyreas was drinking three to four bottles a day. Most would say that this was getting into the side of addiction. That they should go in for professional help. No matter how many times they got told, Kyreas refused. They were happy. It was a feeling they weren't used to.

Drinking was a way for Kyreas to forget what had happened to them. To forget all the crazy things, they've seen or done. Thinking back, they start to remember certain aspects of their life that don't seem very normal.

Like how one morning, when they were twelve, they had woken up and looked in the mirror. Usually, they won't as their appearance is one, they aren't fond of. When they looked, they saw a pair of black eyes staring back. Not just the pupils and the iris, the whole eye, sclera included. On their black hair, sat a set of horns. Shooting up from the top of their head, curving inwards and stopping in a sharp point. When they blinked, the strange features were gone. They shook it off as lack of sleep.

Or how one day at school, a classmate had chucked paper at them. They lashed out. They'd had always had a short temper. Later, they heard whispers from the others, talking about 'great black feathered wings', and 'eyes like the devil'. The rumors swirled; people followed Kyreas around seeing if they were true. One-week later people had moved on.

These changes in appearance had happened so often that Kyreas began to think that it was real. Maybe all those times hadn't been tricks of the light. Or from lack of sleep. Or from the 'imaginative minds of the young kids'. They started to look out for those moments. Little flashes of changes. They would check their mirror every morning checking to see anything that was deemed unusual. They started to realize when these features showed more often. Whenever they had a strong emotion, like anger, the features would appear. It didn't matter which emotion, it just had to be strong. When Kyreas realized this, they sunk deeper into themself. They weren't normal. They were a freak. An abomination. They ended up exactly as their mother had said they would.

Their mother hadn't been a kind woman. She abandoned Kyreas at a young age, leaving them to fend for themself in the big, scary, world. A place that was foreign to them beyond anything. They would look up at the big skyscrapers of New York City, the busy streets. The bustling people rushing to the subway, most of them talking into their phones. The swarms of people passing by in waves. Crashing onto the shore before subsiding, allowing a new wave to take its place. No one noticed the small child on the street. No one, except an elderly couple.

The couple had walked by a few times before. Catching glimpses of a small figure in the shadows of an alleyway. The day they stopped was a day Kyreas would never forget, no matter how much alcohol they drank.

The couple took them in, fed them, cared for them. They became the small child's parents. They were kind. They didn't care about how strange Kyreas' body was, or that they could change some of their features. To them, they were still a person who needed somewhere to go. They enrolled them in school, helped them in any way they could. When Kyreas was fifteen, the couple passed away. They were left once again in the sorrow of loss. The departure of the parent figures in their life affected the teen in many ways. Their drinking got worse, they slept less, they fell into an even deeper abyss. They felt miserable. The only people who had accepted them for who they were, had left them. Just as their mother had done. They didn't want new parents; they wanted the couple back. So, Kyreas faked that they were alive. Forging signatures, copying voices. Everyone else thought that they still had guardians.

After high school, they didn't go on with their education. Instead, they got a job at a local bar and a nearby restaurant. Despite their attitude, Kyreas was a hard worker. Always trying their best and giving their all. It wasn't always enough though. Due to their attitude, they weren't well liked. Due to their strange appearance, their pay was reduced. It was one of the many reasons they hated their body. They were hated because of it.

Most would find their appearance disgusting. Resulting in several slurs and items being thrown. Their hair was short and black, falling into their blue eyes. Their facial features were that of both male and female. A chiseled jaw line, soft cheeks. A round nose, bigger eyebrows, lips plump and red. Their skin was slightly tan, not to pale but not too tanned either. They had broad shoulders and a flat chest. Most would see it as male, as they had no breasts of any kind. Their hips, curved slightly. Muscles donned their arms and legs. A set of abs across their stomach. To most, they weren't normal, their body wasn't something that was seen as male or female. To Kyreas, they were neither. They fit right into the middle. Not quite female, not quite male, and that's just the way they liked it.

They were jerked from their thoughts as a man tried to sit in their lap. They angrily pushed them away before slamming their drink onto the table in front of them, "I said no! How many times do I have to explain?" They stood from their chair and left the bar.

It had already been getting into the early hours of the morning, and Kyreas could tell they were a little drunk. They pride themself for their high tolerance for alcohol, but today seemed like one of those days.

It happened every so often, where their tolerance lowered slightly. The days where they remembered too much, almost like their body was making it easier to forget the past. It was nice sometimes, not always, just sometimes.

Kyreas walked down 3rd avenue, passing the few remaining people up at this hour. Mostly drunk people, staggering down the street. They were easy prey for pickpockets and the like. They were already on edge from the men in the bar. Their fists were clenched. Eyebrows furrowed. Jaw clenched. Their head was lowered as they stormed down the street. Kyreas looked up as someone bumped into them, hard.

"Hey! Watch it!" they snapped.

The other male sneered, "You're the one who should be watching! You bumped into me!"

Kyreas felt their anger flair up. They grabbed the male by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a wall, "Do you have a problem with me?"

The man scowled at the other, "You clearly have a problem with me."

Kyreas growled, they felt the slight shift they feel whenever their appearance changes. The man's eyes widened in fear, his mouth parted. He attempted to struggle from the other's grip, using his hand to try and rip their's from his collar. The man began screaming, his speech difficult to understand. Kyreas caught a few words such as, 'devil' and 'monster'. They weren't very happy with those words that were said.

Before they could open their mouth, a voice was heard from behind them, "Let the human go."

They spun around, keeping the man pressed against the wall with one hand, to face this new person. They were fairly tall, reaching around five feet, eleven inches. They had curly brown hair that reminded Kyreas of a fluffy dog. Their golden eyes shone under the light from the street lamps. They were neither tan nor pale skinned, just in the middle. They wore a white shirt tucked into light washed jeans. One their feet sat a pair of perfectly clean, white sneakers. Their face was much more male oriented, they had a sharper jawline, more sunken in eyes. They didn't have a defined body shape, though one could tell they seemed quite well muscled. They carried with them, an aura of calm, peace and happiness.

"And who are you?" Kyreas demanded, their temper not cooling down despite the new person's aura.

The newcomer ignored their question, "Put the human down." The command in their voice compelled Kyreas to do as they said.

Kyreas dropped the man to the ground, growling, "There, happy?"

They smiled, "My name is Beckett and I have a few questions to ask you."