The streets had begun to flood slightly with the incessant downpour that had enveloped the city for the past day; the dark clouds that came with the rain covered the sky, casting a permanent shadow over everything, buildings, streets and even the people it seemed. The air was thick with electricity from the previous violent thunderstorms that had slowly pushed south and it seemed for a time that the city would have some respite from all but the cold. The normally busy streets were now clear of people and only an occasional car passing by would break the silence. Even the birds seemed noticeable by the their absence of song tonight, they sensed the tension too. A lone streetcar trundled slowly down St. Charles Avenue on a pointless passenger-less journey.

Just a few blocks away stood the Lafayette Cemetery that under the current conditions looked as daunting and sinister as the gate to hell itself. Surrounding the cemetery was a worn wall that stood 15 feet high giving the cemetery the appearance of a perverse castle courtyard, a castle wall seemingly protecting the inhabitants from the world of the living. The entrance consisted of an equally large and ancient wrought iron gate. Inside stood hundreds of mausoleums and graves dating back to the very earliest colonization of the area. Death had lived here as long as there had been life in the city. Ornate statues of indefinite age sat atop tombs. Faces forged from stone stared intently out across the clustered graveyard as they had done for hundreds of years. Age had defiled their beauty as broken and weathered angels mildewed and faded perched above the carvings of long dead children and religious figures.

A block from the cemetery stood a similarly dark and foreboding structure. It was a house dating back hundreds of years, but appeared to be in a bad state of disrepair. Where large Florida windows used to dominate the front of the house in their place now stood graffiti covered boards. Moss covered most of the walls and the once great columns that stood as part of the front porch were covered with cracks and fast growing vegetation had claimed them for their own. To all intents and purposes the building would appear to be abandoned.

Matt shuddered and drew his long black coat up around his neck, it was a cold night or the cemetery and its noises gave him the jitters as he walked past. Either way he felt icy chills down his spine. He was tall, gangly, with long brown hair tied in a ponytail. He continued on toward the dark house. He paused at the dilapidated wrought iron gate at the top of the garden and smiled to himself as he looked at the house. He opened the gate with a shrill screech of worn hinges and made his way towards the thick wooden front door. He wrapped on the door three times, and a few seconds later a peep hole appeared seemingly from nowhere in the door and he met the gaze of a large eye that looked him over thoroughly before the hole closed with the same suddenness. The sound of bolts being drawn and latches unlocked echoed around the silent night as finally the door was opened. Bright laser lights filtered out through the front door and the sound of heavy trance dance music thudded briefly as Matt stepped inside, then the door shut and the night was silent once more.

Disguised inside the large house was an underground club. Gothic statues stood in front of the walls along with reprints of some very dark paintings. Numerous doors stood along the main corridor that Matt walked along down towards the main room. The place was fairly busy filled with the usual late night crowd. This was the place to be in the local Goth scene and this was clear to see by the clientele. As he walked he was met by stares from a few leather-clad girls, their faces thick with white foundation and black lipstick and heavy black eye shadow. They had various styles of hair, but mostly jet-black, apart from one girl with a shaved head and a chain running from her nose to her ear, matched with something of a snarl. They got back to their drinks and conversation after he passed. Matt made his way to the bar upon entering the main room. The music pumped loudly and laser lights played across the walls of the club. He nudged past a guy all in black and ordered a drink from the barman. He leaned on the bar and observed the room. There were a few alcoves along the walls and a few chairs by the bar, the floor was filled with some people dancing, some bouncing to the dark bass, others talking and touching. Matt felt the energy of the place. He looked to a small table next to him where a woman with tight leathery skin sat back in her chair with her right arm exposed with a belt tightly bound around her upper arm. Her head lolled as a man slowly pushed a needle into her arm filling her veins with heroin. Matt smiled, himself not one to shy away from drugs but he preferred the cleaner highs of cocaine and pharmaceutical concoctions. This reminded him that he needed to find somebody who could help him get into the right frame of mind for the night ahead.

Across the dance floor Matt noticed a tall, somewhat shady looking character even by the clubs standards. He was bundled up in a long coat, hat and scarf around his face. Their eyes met for a second and Matt felt the stare burn into him. Matt turned away under the intensity and picked up his drink. He turned back with a start to find the dark figure standing in front of him. The features were no less discernable from up close, but the eyes were almost too much to bear. "You looking for something? I’ve got what you need." said a deep voice from underneath the face-concealing scarf.

"Hey yeah thanks…" he stammered. " Have you got any uppers?" A gloved hand reached inside the thick coat and pulled out a small vial of liquid. He handed it to Matt, " This is all you need. No charge, new customer freebie." Matt raised the glass vial to the light discretely to examine it; he’d never seen anything like it before. It had about a tablespoon full of a cloudy, blue liquid. "Hey what is this man?" Asked Matt, but he received no reply, he looked up but the man was gone. He shook his head, some people are really strange he thought, coming from me and I’m pretty out there myself. Oh well down the hatch, he unscrewed the top of the vial and drained the liquid in one. It was pretty foul tasting, but he’d done quite a few worst things to escape this dreary world for a while.

Matt felt his body turn to air; he felt weightless and began thrusting upwards out through the garden through the sky. He hurtled through a void, the acceleration stretching his skin back. The rush was frightening and exhilarating, he could see familiar faces warped in unfamiliar ways. Then his journey stopped. He was laying in blackness; he looked around but could see nothing. Then one by one syringes began to appear hovering, lightly illuminated like stars blinking in to life in the night sky. They were all filled with the same blue liquid. Matt began to feel some panic as the needles formed a circle around him; they then began an increasingly fast rotation around him. He stood up and whirled around following the blurred fast moving circle, then as one the syringes turned inwards horizontally. Matt felt dizzy and disorientated, not sure what was happening. He felt consciousness slipping from him but was brought back by the most intense pain he had ever felt as one by one the syringes impaled themselves into his bare flesh. He screamed, but heard no sound. His body was punctured again and again as blood poured from his many increasing wounds. He could feel the cold liquid filling his veins, running through his body. Soon every syringe had found a home in his flesh, from his legs to his face. He saw a tall mirror appear in the blackness, he inched towards it and looked at himself. He was a mass of needles, tightly packed all over his legs, chest, back, neck and all along his arms. He was awash with blood from the many wounds. He stared wide-eyed at his hideous reflection. He screamed again the most desperate pain filled scream he had ever known and with that he continued hurtling through the void, surrounded by ghastly deformities, freaks and flashes of people with bloody metal modifications on their bodies. He felt a deep icy coldness from the foreign fluid flowing through his veins; he began to shiver uncontrollably, such all-encompassing cold. His teeth began to chatter, his face distorted by the rapid movement through different plains. Matt could not control his revolting body, his teeth cracked as they vibrated violently against each other. The shaking spiraled and his teeth snapped themselves off against each other and began falling from his mouth and many carved their way down his throat slicing gashes right through his neck. His mouth filled with blood and it overflowed over his chin mixing with the blood flowing from his neck wounds as he choked on teeth and blood.

Matt woke with a start; he jumped up, holding his neck gasping for breath. He looked around, he was sitting in bed. He could remember nothing that had happened in the club since he took the drug. He had no idea how he got home to his apartment. He was covered in sweat and tried to steady himself from the experience. He went to the mirror. No puncture wounds and all his teeth in place, he felt relief after the disturbing night he had. He was so tired though, he washed up and went back to sleep. He slept deeply.

He turned and looked at the clock, Shit! He thought, he had been asleep for 26 hours. He crawled out of bed; his body ached like hell, and turned on the T.V. He watched without interest at the news headlines.

" Police are still clueless as the fifth brutal murder this month has taken place in the city. The body of a young woman was found in bushes, mutilated and apparently raped by her assailant. Police are urging citizens not to panic despite the continued attacks. They are not saying whether this is the work of a serial killer or that the slayings are linked."

He flicked off the T.V. and went to the bathroom, he felt awful, but maybe a good shower would help. He entered the bathroom and suddenly he doubled up in pain and collapsed to the floor, he wretched and brought up blood and thick mucous. What was wrong with him? He staggered over to the sink and stared at himself in the large mirror. Matt scratched the side of his face and was terrified to see his fingers carving and peeling away the skin. Wide eyed he looked down at his hands. They were changing. His fingers slowly extended to an unnatural length, he could feel the bones shifting and cracking. His fingernails came off with little pressure revealing sticky skin underneath. Through the top of his fingers, sharp claw-like bone jutted out. Along the inside of his fingers grew tiny razor shop hooks of the same bone material. He ran a finger over his palm and was further horrified as the soft skin parted and out slipped a retractable sharp syringe like organ, moving in and out, the point dripping. Matt could feel nothing, pushed beyond what his mind could take; he examined his body unable to take his eyes off his transformation. He touched his forearm and slowly pulled back the flesh, the skin coming off like peel on an orange. Underneath he was sinew and raw tissue protected by a thick layer of slimy mucous, like that that covers a slug. He could feel his insides shifting, changing, rearranging. Matt was beyond horror, the pain excruciating and burning but welcome to provide a focus for his mind to cling to sanity. He looked up at his sweating body in the mirror again; his chest pulsed and throbbed, organs visibly pushing out and irregular.

He ran his hands over his stomach and chest peeling layers of skin back like a snake shedding. Frantically, he tore all over in blind panic, rage and disgust. This bizarre body was covered in the thick mucous, which he took to be protection and a replacement to his skin. His pupils turned red, and a cloudy black mist diffused across the whites of his eyes, they widened too. This was not the only shift in his face as his teeth came off from the gums in handfuls. He spat them out and pulled his lips apart to examine further. Small pointy razor sharp needle like fangs filled his mouth, clustered tightly. His tongue split open down the center and he jumped back as he sprayed a thick glob of mucous that landed with a splat on the mirror. He ran his hand over the top of his head and his scalp and hair came way and fell to the floor. Matt collapsed and finally found respite in unconsciousness. His mind pushed beyond the limits, reality no longer had a meaning, unable to accept the metamorphosis his brain shut down.

Some time later he awoke on the floor, he stared up at the ceiling for a time. His head thumping and the sound of breathing, a deep, throaty sound he had never heard before. He stood up, the pain a constant dull ache. He walked to the full-length mirror in his bedroom. There he saw his final form. A red mucous covered creature of sinew and fleshy tissue. His inner turmoil over, he was now a creature of instinct and those instincts gave him an insatiable craving to feed. He rummaged through his clothes concealing himself as much as possible, wrapping a scarf around his face hiding his form. He made his way out into the night.

The night streets were empty but for the occasional car, he walked a few blocks until two hookers approached him. They were dressed in tight short skirts, high heels, too much make up and small imitation fur coats. He could feel them shivering from the cold. He beckoned them to follow him into the dark alley that they used for business. He laid them against a wall. He pushed up against the first girl and slipped his tongue into her mouth, her eyes turned wide as her mouth filled with mucous and she began choking on the probing tongue that worked its way down her throat. The second girl turned to run, but quickly had a hand clamped across her neck. The moist fleshy palm opened up and the needle organ slipped easily into her. He held her in a vice like grip as he injected his venom. He released his hand and she dropped to the floor, barely breathing with blue liquid, smeared amongst the blood of the wound. He turned his attention back to the first girl and ripped her jaw clean off and began feasting on her face, ripping her body apart and pulling out entrails and organs and devouring them eagerly. When he had his fill, he looked down at the second girl. She was unconscious; the blue liquid that had been spilt made its way into her wound before closing up. He left her to await her metamorphosis. He gathered up a few pieces of meat for later and walked off into the night. He walked past a closed up electrical store with numerous TV’s on relaying the news to the night.