Chapter Four: The Green Within
The morning came too soon.
Billy woke up drenched in sweat, the memory of last night clawing at the edges of his mind — the whispers, the monsters, the dying tree. He half-believed it had been a dream… until he caught his reflection in the mirror.
Faint veins of green light pulsed under his skin like moving roots.
He jerked back, nearly knocking over the lamp. The glow dimmed slowly, retreating into him. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no."
He pressed his hands to the sink. His fingers trembled, and for a split second, the porcelain cracked under his touch — like something alive was hiding beneath the surface.
Billy shoved his sleeves down and grabbed his bag. He told himself to act normal. No one will notice. He'd go to school, smile, and pretend everything was fine.
But deep inside, something was already awake.
At Midtown High, everything looked the same — lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, laughter echoing. But Billy felt like the world had tilted slightly off its axis. Every sound seemed sharper. Every vibration through the floor sent shivers up his spine.
He could hear things he never noticed before — the hum of electricity through wires, the pulse of trees outside the window, even the rhythm of his classmates' heartbeats.
And then came them.
The bullies.
Trent Carson and his crew — thick-headed, loud, and cruel in the way only bored teenagers could be. Billy had spent years being their favorite target. Today, they smelled blood.
"Hey, forest boy," Trent sneered as Billy passed. "Heard you got lost on that field trip. Did the squirrels take care of you?"
The laughter behind him felt like nails against his skull. Billy clenched his jaw. "Just leave me alone, Trent."
"Ohhh, the little sapling's talking back." Trent slammed Billy's locker shut, inches from his face. "What's wrong? Gonna cry?"
Billy's pulse pounded. He could feel the roots beneath the school, the life pulsing through the ground. It was responding — whispering, say the word and we'll rise.
He backed away. "I said leave me alone."
Trent grinned and shoved him hard. Billy hit the floor, his books scattering. Laughter erupted around them.
Something inside Billy snapped.
His vision blurred — not from tears, but from light. Green, swirling light.
The moment Trent reached down to grab him again, the floor cracked.
It started as a hairline fracture beneath Billy's hand. Then, with a deep, groaning sound, roots burst through the tiles — twisting, coiling, alive.
The entire hallway screamed. Students ran in every direction as vines whipped through the air, smashing lockers and windows.
Trent stumbled back, eyes wide. "What the— Billy, what did you—"
Billy didn't answer. He couldn't. His heartbeat was controlling everything. The vines responded to his rage, growing sharper, darker.
One of the tendrils lashed out and wrapped around Trent's leg, dragging him off his feet.
"Billy! Stop!" someone screamed.
But Billy wasn't in control anymore. His pupils had turned green, his breath misting with energy. The air smelled like rain and lightning.
Trent thrashed as the vine lifted him into the air. "Please, man! I— I'm sorry!"
Billy's fingers twitched — the vine tightened.
And then he heard it.
A whisper.
"Do it. Protect yourself. The strong must root out the weak."
Billy froze. That voice — it wasn't his. It was the same one he'd heard in the forest. The voice of the dying tree… or something else hiding behind it.
"No," he muttered. "I'm not a killer."
The whisper grew colder. "You are what I made you."
Billy screamed and forced his hands open. The vine recoiled instantly, dropping Trent to the floor. He scrambled away, gasping.
The vines slithered back into the cracked tiles, vanishing as quickly as they'd come. The hallway was wrecked — glass shattered, walls split, students staring in terrified silence.
And in the middle of it all stood Billy, trembling, eyes glowing faintly.
Then the silence broke.
"Freak!" someone shouted.
"Monster!" another voice added.
Phones were already recording. Dozens of them.
Billy looked around in horror. "No, it's not— it wasn't—"
But no one was listening. They all stepped back, like he was contagious.
The principal's voice echoed from the far end of the hallway. "Everyone out! Now!"
Billy turned and ran.
He sprinted through the corridors, out the back doors, into the cold air. The voices of his classmates chased him — whispers, gasps, laughter, fear.
He didn't stop running until he reached the edge of the city park, where the trees stood tall and silent.
He collapsed beneath one, gasping for air. His hands were shaking violently, still faintly glowing.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered.
The wind stirred the leaves. For a heartbeat, he thought he heard the tree whisper back.
"You're changing, Billy."
He looked up sharply. There was no one there — only the forest. But the whisper lingered in his head.
"Power is never quiet. You can't hide what's growing inside you."
Billy pressed his palms to the dirt. He could feel it again — the life beneath the ground, endless, waiting. It was like a heartbeat synced to his own.
And in that rhythm, he felt something else. A pulse far away. Not human. Not natural.
Something… watching him.
He didn't know it yet, but deep below the city, Maskborn was monitoring the sudden surge of bio-energy. The readings spiked like a flare on his radar. He leaned forward in his chair, the mask's voice whispering through his thoughts.
"There," it said. "The seed has awakened."
Maskborn smiled beneath his mask. "Then it's time to see what it can do."
Back in the park, Billy's breathing slowed. He didn't know about the eyes following him, the data being recorded, the machine intelligence now tracing his every move.
All he knew was that he was changing — and no one could ever know the truth.
He stood up, brushing dirt off his hands. The cracks in the ground glowed faintly green.
Billy whispered to himself, "I'll control it. I have to."
But the roots under his feet pulsed — once, twice — like a warning.
And far below, in a dark lab, Maskborn's mask pulsed in sync.