Chapter 3: Becoming Human, Becoming Invisible

Derek was once infamous; all three realms avoided him. For a time, his greatest amusement was studying me. He was truly, deeply good to me. My successful transformation into human form—no longer using my original form to disgust others—was all thanks to his constant feeding of supernatural elixirs, helping me cultivate and transform early.

He’d sit across from me by the fire, passing me bottles that glowed with strange light, teaching me to hold a spoon, to speak, to laugh. Sometimes he’d joke that I was his science project, but his eyes were always gentle. I learned to walk upright, to hide my claws, to pass for human in the world of men.

I always remember, the day I transformed into human form was the first frost. The mountains were shrouded in mist, round dew drops glistening on fresh grass. I slowly stretched out before Derek, gazing at him with confusion and fear from the grass. The new perspective felt strange, but he looked at me in shock, saying, "Little monster, your human form is like this?"

I remember the cold bite of the air, the way the mist clung to my new skin. Derek’s flannel shirt was soft and warm as he draped it over my shoulders, smelling faintly of fresh detergent and woodsmoke. He turned away, clearing his throat, pretending not to notice how I shivered.

Then he took off his flannel shirt and draped it over me, turning away.

He was always careful to give me dignity, even when I didn’t understand what it meant. That shirt became my first real possession, the first thing that was truly mine.

Later, when I understood beauty and ugliness, I realized my human form was very beautiful, probably because Derek had given me the purest dark lord power to help my transformation.

I caught my reflection in a mountain stream once, startled by the face that looked back—strange, lovely, nothing like the patchwork monster I remembered. I wondered if Derek had done it on purpose, if he wanted me to have a chance at happiness.

After that, I never revealed my original form again.

I hid it away, locked it deep inside. The world only saw what Derek had made me—beautiful, mysterious, untouchable.

Everything I know about people and the world comes from Derek. He taught me, step by step, how to be both person and monster: not to be naked before others, how to communicate with other monsters and humans. He took me to travel the mortal world for a hundred years before I understood human affairs—my first time in a classic roadside diner, learning to order pie and coffee, standing awestruck at a county fair under neon lights, and once watching a baseball game, completely lost but thrilled by the crowd’s roar.

We wandered from town to town, taking in the sights and sounds of a world that barely noticed us. He taught me how to tip a waitress, how to barter at a roadside stand, how to smile at strangers without showing my fangs. I learned to pass, to blend in, to belong—at least for a little while.

For a long time, I thought he was mine—only mine. Derek is free-spirited; in the underworld, the rule is the strong prey on the weak, never forming true companionships.

He was the lone wolf, the king without a court. I was the exception, the one he let stay. It made me feel special, even when I knew better.

During those years by his side, I was the only one who could accompany him, which gave me a comforting illusion, especially since Derek was always so gentle and caring to me. It was hard not to fall deeply for him.

We’d sit together on the roof of an abandoned church—its stained-glass windows broken, graffiti scrawled across the crumbling brick, somewhere on the edge of a forgotten Midwestern town—watching the stars, and I’d let myself believe he was looking at me the same way I looked at him. Even monsters can dream.

The underworld is ruthless and cunning, worships strength, and betrayal is common. Derek was lonely for thousands of years, not only balancing against the heavenly realm, but always wary of rebellion from the monsters below. I thought at least, with me loyally at his side, he wouldn’t be so alone.

I became his shadow, his confidant, the one who never left. I thought loyalty could be enough. Maybe, for a while, it was.

Unfortunately, we met Lila.