Disclaimer: If I owned Tai Chi Chasers, then this fic would be canon.

Anger sparked in my chest. "What do you mean, 'hand it over?' Go mess with someone else." I know, it wasn't exactly the best idea. I mean, it was only a loaf of bread and a bag of bananas. But hey, I'm no genius! If I were one, I wouldn't have been in this part of town. It was that day I finally figured out why mom always said to never go to the northern part of town and take the long way through the northwest, despite the fact that the area between Park Avenue and Moon Street was in the most direct route possible. I started to walk away when I was grabbed by the arms and lifted up into the air. I kicked against the gangster, but it was no use. He was too strong, and it only got worse as one of his hands began to close around my neck.

"So that's whats it's gonna be, Red?" asked the lead thug. He grabbed something from his pocket, and motioned for the others to do the same. My eyes widened. A switchblade. Shoot. I would much rather not die. I was only thirteen at the time, surrounded by roughly six gangsters that had to be at least four years older than me.

"Okay, okay! I'll hand it over! Just let me go!"

My shouts were met by guffaws. "Red, you just messed with the Caskets! Now you're gonna pay for it!" He walked towards me. I tried to scream for help, but no one was around. Also, I was quickly losing air. I couldn't scream; I was shaking so badly. He was about to slash my neck. It was all going to be over. Wait. Why did he slash my hand?

He must've seen my confusion. "Red, the Caskets aren't like most of those dorks who call themselves gangs. We're more sophisticated." Sophisticated? I thought. He continued. "We don't just kill people lickety-split, we let them live for a little bit." Torture. They were going to torture me to death. I felt anger growing inside me, it almost trying to unleash itself. Too bad that fear was keeping it checked. A slash to the cheek. A stab to the leg. I couldn't do anything but attempt to keep conscious and dodge as much as possible, which wasn't much.

I finally broke when the knife zoomed towards my chest. I screamed, wasting the breath I had been attempting to gather. 'Cept it wasn't a waste. I was dropped as the Casket leader recoiled, squeezing his eyes. What the? A window of a nearby pawnshop broke as a fiery jet flew towards my hand. Do they have rocket launchers too? What about drones? Or a flame-thrower?

It was not any of those things, but a card instead. It gave me a weird sense of déjà vu as I reached towards it. I didn't think of it much at the time - I had worse things to deal with. After all, I was still in a dark alleyway with a bunch of guys with knives. Oh yeah, and my arm now had scales on the bottom of it and black stripes on the top.

"What the... you freak!" shouted out the leader. At that moment, I knew I'd be hearing that phrase over and over again.

I grabbed onto the card, and heard myself scream out, "Hwa!" Fire raced towards them; I grabbed the bag of groceries and raced home.

On the way home, I had pulled my hoodie out of my backpack and had used it to cover my arms. In a window I had seen more changes. My hair had grown longer and wilder, my pupils were narrow slits, and my canines had lengthened and sharpened into fangs. Two black stripes had formed on each cheek, and between them were scales. I looked like a complete and utter freak. As I slipped into my room, glad my mom wasn't home at the moment, I felt tears creep out of these strange eyes. Tears of fear at what could of happened, tears of fear at what I was now, and tears of fear for the future.