The world spun.
One moment Finnian was staring into those impossible teeth, the next he was flying backward through the air. His back hit the mat with a bone-jarring thud that knocked the wind from his lungs.
Before he could even process what had happened, the new student was on top of him, moving with that same unnatural fluidity. But as Finnian blinked up at his opponent, everything looked... normal again. Just a regular student with pale skin and dark hair, not a trace of the monster he'd seen moments before.
"Point to Kieran!" Master Chen announced. "Well done."
*Kieran.* So that was his name.
The new student—Kieran—stood and offered his hand to help Finnian up, but there was something in his eyes, a glint of amusement that made Finnian's skin crawl. He ignored the offered hand and rolled to his feet on his own.
Finnian was drenched in sweat, his heart hammering so hard he could hear it pounding in his ears. He looked around the circle of his classmates, all of them murmuring amongst themselves with expressions of surprise and interest.
"Nice throw, newbie!" someone called out.
"Where'd you learn to move like that?"
"Think you can teach me that technique?"
Kieran just smiled that too-wide smile and walked away from the ring without answering anyone's questions.
David jogged over to Finnian, concern written across his face. "Dude, what happened out there? How'd you lose to the new guy?"
Finnian stared at his friend, confusion and frustration warring in his chest. "You... you didn't see what happened?"
"What do you mean?" David frowned. "We all saw it. You went for a strike, he countered, and down you went. Pretty clean technique, actually."
Maya approached, shaking her head with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "I've got to admit, Finn, I wasn't expecting that. Losing to a complete newbie on his first day? That's got to sting."
"Not that," Finnian said desperately, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "The monster. You had to have seen it—his face, his teeth, the way he moved..."
David and Maya exchanged a look that made Finnian's heart sink. Then they started laughing.
"A monster?" David wiped his eyes. "Dude, are you feeling alright? Did you hit your head when you fell?"
"I'm not joking!" Finnian insisted, but he could hear how crazy he sounded even to himself.
Maya patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Look, I get it. Losing can be tough, especially to someone you don't expect. But you don't need to make up excuses. It happens to everyone sometimes."
Finnian looked back and forth between his two best friends, searching their faces for any sign that they were just playing along, that they'd seen what he'd seen. But there was nothing there except concern and barely suppressed amusement.
"Fine," he muttered, turning away. "Forget I said anything."
---
The rest of the sparring session continued as scheduled, but Finnian might as well have been invisible. He sat on the sidelines, watching as other students approached Kieran between matches, eager to learn from the mysterious newcomer who'd taken down one of the dojo's better students.
And that was what baffled Finnian the most. If they'd seen what he'd seen—if they'd witnessed that thing transform into something inhuman—wouldn't they be running in terror? Wouldn't Master Chen have stopped the match immediately?
But instead, everyone was treating Kieran like a prodigy, a talented new student who'd simply had a good first day.
*Maybe it was all in my head,* Finnian thought, watching as Kieran demonstrated a technique to a group of eager junior students. *Maybe the stress of the match, the surprise of facing someone new...*
But even as he tried to rationalize what he'd experienced, he couldn't shake the memory of those teeth, those too-long fingers, the way Kieran had moved like he was boneless.
And most disturbing of all was the way Kieran kept glancing over at him throughout the rest of the session, that same amused glint in his dark eyes, as if he knew exactly what Finnian was thinking.
---
"Alright, everyone, that's enough for today," Master Chen announced as the clock struck five. "Remember to practice your forms at home, and I'll see you all next week."
Students began packing their gear and filing out of the dojo. Finnian was stuffing his water bottle into his bag when Maya and David approached.
"Hey," Maya said softly, her earlier amusement replaced by genuine concern. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty out of it after your match."
"I'm fine," Finnian replied automatically, not meeting her eyes. "Just tired."
David clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't let one defeat get to you, man. Everyone has off days. It was probably just a fluke."
"Yeah," Finnian said quietly. "Probably."
He swung his bag over his shoulder and forced a smile. "Well, I'll be on my way now. We'll meet tomorrow in school, right?"
"Of course," Maya said, still looking worried. "But Finn, if you need to talk about anything—"
"I'm fine," he repeated, waving them goodbye. "See you tomorrow."
As he walked to his bike, Finnian could feel eyes on his back. He turned to see Kieran standing by the dojo entrance, watching him with that unnerving intensity. When their eyes met, Kieran raised his hand in what might have been a friendly wave.
Finnian didn't wave back.
---
"I'm home!" Finnian called as he stepped through the front door, dropping his bag by the stairs.
"Welcome back, sweetheart!" his mother's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Go freshen up and I'll have something ready for you to eat!"
Finnian climbed the stairs to his room, his legs feeling like lead. He stripped out of his gi and took a long, hot shower, trying to wash away the lingering unease that clung to him like a second skin.
But even as the hot water pounded against his shoulders, he couldn't stop replaying the events at the dojo. The transformation he'd witnessed felt so real, so vivid. The memory of those inhuman features was burned into his mind with perfect clarity.
He changed into comfortable clothes and lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to make sense of what had happened. Time seemed to slip away as he lost himself in thought, turning the experience over and over in his mind like a puzzle with missing pieces.
"Finnian! Dinner!"
He didn't respond, too caught up in his own thoughts.
"Finnian!"
Still nothing.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs finally broke through his reverie, and his bedroom door swung open to reveal his mother, hands on her hips and an exasperated expression on her face.
"I've been calling you for ten minutes," she said, though her tone was more concerned than angry. "Didn't you hear me?"
"Sorry, Mom. I guess I was just... thinking."
She studied his face with that maternal intuition that seemed to see right through him. "Are you okay? You look pale."
"I'm fine," he said, but the words sounded hollow even to him.
Mrs. Ravenswood sat down on the edge of his bed, her expression softening. "Come on, let's get some food in you. You'll feel better."
She led him downstairs to the dining room, where a plate of his favorite comfort food—grilled cheese and tomato soup—was waiting for him. She sat across from him as he ate, watching him with those knowing eyes.
"Alright," she said after he'd managed a few bites. "What's really going on? And don't tell me you're fine, because I've been your mother for seventeen years and I know when something's bothering you."
Finnian set down his spoon, knowing there was no point in pretending. His mother had always been able to read him like an open book.
"You're going to think I sound crazy," he began.
"Try me."
So he told her everything. About the new student, about the sparring match, about the transformation he was certain he'd witnessed. He described the monster's features in vivid detail, the way it had moved, the feeling that it had known he could see its true form.
As he spoke, he watched his mother's expression carefully. For just a moment—when he mentioned the creature's teeth—he could have sworn he saw something flicker across her face. A brief shadow of recognition, maybe even fear.
But then it was gone, replaced by the same concerned, maternal look she always wore when he was upset.
"Oh, honey," she said gently, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "I think all those horror movies you've been watching are finally getting to you."
"Mom, I'm serious—"
"I know you are, and that's what worries me." She gave him a reassuring smile. "But think about it logically. Monsters? Shapeshifters? Those things only exist in movies and books. What you experienced was probably just your mind playing tricks on you—stress, adrenaline, maybe a trick of the lighting."
Finnian wanted to protest, but looking at his mother's patient, loving face, he began to doubt himself. She was right, wasn't she? Monsters weren't real. They couldn't be.
"You're probably right," he said finally, his voice small.
"Of course I am." She stood up and kissed the top of his head. "Finish your soup and get some rest. You have school tomorrow, and you need to be sharp."
"Thanks, Mom."
"Anytime, sweetheart."
As she headed back to the kitchen, Finnian couldn't shake the feeling that there had been something else behind her reassuring words. Something she wasn't telling him.
But exhaustion was finally catching up with him, and he was too tired to analyze his mother's every expression. He finished his meal, thanked her again, and headed upstairs.
"Goodnight, Finn," she called after him. "Sweet dreams."
"Goodnight, Mom."
As he closed his bedroom door behind him, Finnian tried to convince himself that his mother was right. That what he'd seen was just his imagination, stress-induced hallucinations brought on by too many late-night horror films.
But deep down, in a place he didn't want to acknowledge, he knew better.