The scary changes

The next morning, at about 8:10 a.m., Felix was still snugly wrapped in his bed; the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains. A series of sharp knocks echoed from his door, sending his heightened senses into overdrive. His ears twitched, and the sound cut through his sleep like a jagged blade. His eyes snapped open, and he stretched languidly, his muscles protesting the disturbance.

"Felix, wake up! You'll be late for school," his mother's voice called out, firm yet laced with the gentle warmth of care.

Groggily, Felix turned his head toward the bedside cabinet, where his alarm clock was sitting-or rather, was supposed to sit. Much to his surprise, the clock lay in pieces, the cabinet beneath it split right down the middle, as if an unstoppable force had hit it. His eyebrows furrowed. "What happened?" he muttered, his eyes scanning the room like a detective at a crime scene.

"I'm already awake, Mum," he finally responded, his voice groggy but audible.

"Alright, come down for breakfast once you're ready," his mother replied, the sound of her retreating footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

"Got it," he called back, already sounding distracted as he swung his legs off the bed. The instant his feet touched the floor, the bed creaked under his weight, the headboard on the right-hand side collapsing with a loud thud. Felix stared at the damage in his head, his mind racing. The rear supports of the bed had snapped clean through, leaving it sagging like a wilted flower.

The commotion traveled downstairs, and he could hear his mom yelling, as her voice held thick concern: "Felix! What is going on up there?"

"Nothing, Mum!" he answered in all haste, fending off her fears.

He stormed to the bathroom and took a cold shower to awake him from his tide of questions. Later, dressed and ready with his schoolbag slung across his shoulder, he left the bathroom looking quite bewildered yet resolute.

Coming downstairs, purposeful steps, Felix said to his mom, "Good morning, Mom."

"Good morning," she said, cuddling a thick accent; her hands worked fast arranging the breakfast on the table. A glass of pineapple juice sat besides a plate stacked with five pieces of gold toast. "Have your breakfast," she told him to have a heavy breakfast.

Felix did the bare minimum and took one slice, washing it down with a few sips of juice. His stomach was growling, but the powerful flavors were too much for his now-heightened senses. The toast tasted weird; every single ingredient on it was waltzing on his tongue with crystal clarity, much more real than he remembered. It felt weird-unnatural. Still, he let it slide, chalking it up to his mom probably trying some new recipe or something.

"Bye, Mum," he said, waving as he slipped through the door.

"Bye, son," she replied, her voice trailing after him as the door clicked shut.

He walked briskly along the roadside, nibbling the toast absent-mindedly. The air was crisp that morning, filling his lungs with a revitalizing chill. But beneath the calm, his mind was racing, questioning the newfound sensitivity of his senses.

Approaching the bus stop, his eyes met with the last bus pulling away. Acting instinctively, he sprinted forward; his movements blurring into an almost inhuman speed, his legs shot him like a bolt of lightning within seconds pounding against the bus door with a steady breath despite the exertion.

The driver, surprised, stopped just long enough to open the door. Felix clambered aboard, fumbling in his pocket for the fare. The bus was crowded; the air was thick with mingled scents of perfume and sweat and morning coffee. Felix pushed his way through the tightly packed passengers, grabbing a handle strap, his knuckles white from the grip.

As the bus rumbled along, he couldn't shake off that gnawing feeling that something inside him had shifted irrevocably. He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the mundane hum of city life-a thin veil over a brewing storm inside him.

After a few minutes of the jostling bus ride, Felix arrived at school, only to be greeted by the sight of several students kneeling at the gate, a line of tardy offenders caught in the act. Looming over them was Miss Lusi, clad in a sharp black suit that accentuated her commanding presence.

Her long black hair cascaded like silk over her shoulders, framing her piercing grey eyes that seemed to weigh and measure every soul before her. In her right hand, she held a cane, its polished surface catching the faint glint of the morning sun. Her posture exuded authority, but her figure, a perfect harmony of strength and grace, was undeniably captivating, her C Cup oval shape boobs subtly enhancing her feminine allure.

Felix joined the group of latecomers, quietly taking his place among the kneeling students. Two boys, kneeling a few feet away from him, muttered in low voices that they believed no one else could hear.

"Don't you see Miss Lusi's body? Always so enticing, and her eyes, hooking as expected of the school's number two beauty," one said, his tone dripping with admiration.

"Yeah, that's why I don't mind coming late," the other replied with a sly grin. "It's worth it just to feed my eyes with her intriguing figure."

"I bet no one would willingly miss this chance," the first boy added, the hint of a smirk curling his lips.

The conversation floated to Felix's ears, their whispers clear as day to his heightened senses, yet he paid them no mind.

Miss Lusi, however, noticed their quiet chatter. Her cane tapped lightly against her palm as she strode toward them, her every step deliberate and calculated. "You two," she began, her voice smooth but edged with authority. "I see you've both become regular offenders. Late again, I see."

The boys stiffened under her sharp gaze, but their feigned innocence did little to mask their amusement.

"Stand up," she commanded, her tone unyielding. "Hands out."

They complied without hesitation, stretching their palms forward. The cane descended swiftly, delivering five sharp strokes to each boy. Their faces, however, betrayed not a trace of pain, instead, they wore peculiar smiles, their expressions almost gleeful.

Miss Lusi paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "I think I hit them hard enough," she muttered under her breath, perplexed by their reactions.

The boys, grinning ear to ear, jogged off toward the field as instructed, leaving Miss Lusi both baffled and faintly exasperated. Her gaze shifted to Felix, who had watched the peculiar exchange with a quizzical expression.

"You," she said, her voice slicing through the air, drawing his attention. "I haven't seen you among the latecomers before. What's the excuse today? Don't tell me you're planning to follow their example." She punctuated her words by tapping her cane against her left palm.

Felix raised his head, meeting her gaze. His eyes, sharp and earnest, gleamed with a peculiar intensity that sent an unexplainable tremor through her chest. A strange, powerful sensation gripped her, a feeling she couldn't quite define.

"No, ma'am," Felix replied, his tone steady and respectful. "Me being late today wasn't intentional."

Miss Lusi felt her cheeks grow inexplicably warm as she cleared her throat, subtly covering her mouth with her hand to regain composure. "H-Hum," she muttered, glancing away momentarily. "Never mind."

Her voice regained its firmness. "Join those two. Ten laps around the field for all of you."

Felix nodded and rose to his feet, his movements smooth and fluid as he joined the others in jogging.

From the classroom windows along the pathway that connected the academy's buildings, students leaned out, whispering and giggling as they admired Miss Lusi's imposing figure. Their comments floated through the air, punctuated by stolen glances and hushed laughter.

Walking along the corridor, Rose paused, her attention caught by the murmurs. Her crimson eyes flicked toward the window, curiosity piqued. As her gaze traveled over the scene below, it landed on Felix, jogging effortlessly across the field.

"Hum," she murmured, a sound barely audible yet laced with intrigue. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of recognition sparking within them before she quickly turned away, her expression unreadable. Without another glance, she resumed her stride, the faint echo of her footsteps fading into the corridor's quiet ambiance.