"...charlie..."

"...Charlie..."

"...CHARLIE!"

My eyes snapped open to a vaguely recognisable face as the stinging sensation of a slap diffused across my cheek. "No slapping..." I croaked weakly, the temporary shock of the slap fading, leaving my body screaming at me that something had gone horribly wrong and I had better do something about it fast, or else.

I barely managed to sit up before my head decided my body had enough complaining done, and it was the heads turn. A pounding headache roared through my head, the faint sound of sirens blaring as the dark took me once more.

The last thought I had before unconsciousness was why did this shit have to happen on a Monday.

Now this is probably the point in where you expect me to reveal that as the end of this tale, and slowly work my way back up to that point, until finally revealing that, shocker, I would end up A-okay, saving the fair maiden and vanquishing the villain.

This style of writing, however, is utter horseshit as far as I am concerned. And it's my story goddammit. Though I wouldn't mind a few fair maidens. If anyone is listening. No? Damn. Instead my story has begun where stories are meant to begin. The beginning.

- Approximately 3 days later -

I woke once more to sterile hospital lights, the few previous flashes of consciousness I had felt like dreams, just slipping out of grasp as soon as you become aware of them. Before getting the chance to examine myself a nurse walked in. "Hi, how are you feeling sweetie?" she asked in a matronly voice, counter intuitive to her petite frame.

"I feel like someone scra—stabbed me" I quipped, noticing the smile on the nurses face. Still got it. She then left after checking my bandages (Holy smokes, that's a lot of bandages) and my IV.

Though my memories of the mugging, because that was how I ended up in this situation, were still hazy from the painkillers and adrenaline, my mind was still competent enough to realize something I had just seen was wrong.

Something I couldn't put my finger on. It was like the feeling of deja vu, as though I had experienced what just happened before, but normally with deja vu, your mind is able to find the differences and the feeling abates.

This time though, for some reason it was like my mind couldn't find the difference, like I was experiencing something that was exactly the same as something I had already seen, but I couldn't tell what it was.

My mind went in circles for a few seconds before I started to get annoyed, and thought about scratching the scra—cuts. Wait, what? Why couldn't I think of them as scra—cuts?

Before I could continue my investigation into my own mind, my family burst in with the friendly nurse in tow. "Are you....What hap....Does it hu..." A stream of questions from my mother and father, with my sister interjecting now and then.

I slowly held up my hands to get a word in, "One at a time, please". They stopped as soon as I had raised my hands, and were now just standing there, with looks of hesitation on their faces. "You can actually ask me questions, though". Instead they all just got as close as possible and hugged me, which hurt quite a lot, but you won't hear me complaining.

After the standard 'Are you okay?', 'Where are you hurt?' etc etc, I was asked what had happened. Although my memory wasn't the best, I tried my best to tell the story, with Amy my dearest sister, filling in the blanks. "Uhh, okay, so I remember we had gone shopping for Amy's party, and when we were finished we headed... home?"

Amy nodded, so I continued "We.... Oh that's right, we went to go through the park, it was a faster route. We got to the bridge when a large wol—guy wearing a mask came at us with his cla— a knife. Then...."

Amy stepped in," Then Charlie protected me while I called the cops. He was really brave." she finished.

I looked at all three of them, as I told the parts I remembered. Each time I 'stumbled' on a word they didn't notice. What the hell was going on? Did a fairy curse me on top of everything else? After a few more pleasantries, and general conversation about Amy's upcoming 18th party, the nurse ushered them out of the room, stating in no uncertain terms that visiting time was over.

As she was about to leave she winked at me, and said "You have a nice family". Hold on, run that shit back a second. As she winked, for the briefest second, her eye changed, the white turning a dark grey, and her iris becoming a solid yellow, with the exception of a cat like slit.

As I played this again and again in my memory, all of a sudden, it changed, the memory blurred where her eyes were. What the fuck? That was my last thought before sleep took me.

The dreams I had that night will stay with me for the rest of my life. I dreamt the mugger was some kind of feral wolf-like man, that my 3rd grade teacher had goat hooves and big floppy ears, that one of my best friends had light green skin, and had small tusks coming from his lower jaw. Nuts, right?

When I woke the next day, I could do nothing but scream in agony. My head, my eyes, my ears, they all felt as though they were somehow both submerged in lava, and frozen solid at the same time.

The nurse returned and upped my medication, and when I was able to look at her again as the pain abated I had to do a double-take. Her eyes were as I saw them the day before, her ears were pointy and protruded at a near right angle to her head, and her face and skin lost any imperfections that they had previously.

These must be good pain meds, because I am tripping balls. I tried to ignore her, and only see what I knew was real, the regular, normal nurse, and when I did so the headache abated some, and I was finally able to overcome whatever hallucinations I had been having, and see her normally.

Fewf, that's a good sign for my mental health. She checked me over one more time before leaving again, but this time instead of returning with my family, she came back with a man I hadn't met before.

After he took a seat she left, and I gave the guy a once over. Short-ish salt and pepper hair, maybe mid-forties, a smirk on his face like it had no plans on leaving, trench coat, maybe 5'10, a little shorter than me.

"My name is Special Detective First Class, David Nox. I'm here to ask you a few questions about the incident a few days ago, if that's okay with you?"

He asked me as if there would be no possible way that it wouldn't.

"Sure, not like I have places to be."

His mouth twitched slightly. I saw that mister.

"So, Charles Hennessy, 19, second generation Irish migrant, going to UCLA, this is you right?"

I nod, and he continues.

"So how was your first werewolf encounter?"

My eyes widen in shock, and his smirk returns with a vengeance before he immediately continues.

"So the Veil didn't protect you, which means congratulations are in order. Charlie my lad, you get to be magic."

"What the hell do you mean, wizards and sorcerers and whatnot are all thousands of years old, all super powerful and godlike" I counter, starting to get annoyed by this guy, and my headache was coming back.

"So, what, you think wizards come out of the womb thousands of years old? No, don't respond, it was rhetorical.

You're in for a rude awakening Charlie-boy.

You know that the veil hides the average threats from mortals, letting the petty stuff like pixies and whatnot through, as well as failing to hide the big stuff".

"Like Hitler", I reply, still not quite sure where this is going.

"Got it in one kiddo. For all the other stuff there is the Wizard Division. Yeah, yeah, you think you know all about them, special technology to combat the monsters and see through the veil.

The truth is, we recruit people who can already see through the veil. People with any amount of talent for magic. People like you."

"But I can't see through the veil, I'm just a regular guy who just got mugged."

He pauses for a second before looking at me with a thousand mile stare.

"Did you? Look at me, Charlie."

And I looked. I glared at him for so long I thought I was going to burst a blood vessel.

"See, nothings ha..."

Just as I was about to tell this guy to get the hell out of my hospital room, the entire world lit up. The man in front of me was replaced by a lightly glowing form, looking like a younger version of the detective, perhaps 30 at most. His eyes were like spotlights and I nearly blinded myself trying to make eye contact.

As I recovered from that close call, I looked around my otherwise drab and Spartan hospital room. Only it was drab no longer.

Strange lines, squiggles, curlicues and other multi-coloured near-shapes were floating throughout the air, and everything else as well. "Well, I'm definitely tripping" I said, forgetting my annoyance and even the existence of the detective for a minute, before he snapped me back to my new 'reality'.

"That's mana you're seeing there kid, and it means you're a Two at least, you have magesight. Don't get your panties in a twist, I'll explain. At the Division, we classify manahumans, that's the official term by the way, by their ability to influence the world through mana. "

"As a One, you would only be able to pierce the veil intermittently, unable to see mana, just able to break through the veil. Two's can see mana, Three's and onwards can interact with mana, all the way up to Tens. Tens are those wizards you've heard about, who can literally create matter. "

"Beyond that we can't measure, because things like measurements and logic get thrown out the window " I was at a loss for words.

I was a 'manahuman', apparently. Great. This is fantastic. Definitely.

"So, here's my card, when you get out of here go to Police HQ in Downtown, and we'll see about getting you tested. If you're less than a Three, you're good to go home, if you want, though we would still recruit you if you're interested."

"If you're lower than a Five, you have to do a short course with us, before we let you go home."

"Finally if you're a Five or up, you have to sign up with us for 2 years to learn the laws and what'll get you into trouble. Don't worry, with each tier, your lifespan can extend dramatically, if you want it to. Just takes a bit of work. "

"Any questions?" I paused for a minute, mulling over the flood of new info I had just gotten. "Yeah, uh, just one I guess, why did this happen now?"

"Good question, in a nutshell, because you had the potential to see through the veil, when you experienced trauma, the werewolf attack, your subconscious was able to fight off the veil's mind altering influence, so you started to remember what you've really seen."

"Then your mind adapted to breaking the veil, so you can see manaspecies in their true form. We'll touch on those later. Your family is here, so for now, goodbye Charlie."

With a strange *pop* he simply wasn't there anymore. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, even trying the strange new sense if had where I tried to see through something, and suddenly I was able to see the mana of the room, as it rushed towards the now empty chair.

'A mana....vacuum?' I thought to myself, before my family returned, this time with get well soon cards from friends and neighbours, as well as non-hospital food.

Perhaps these mortals will be allowed into my up and coming kingdom. Muahahaha.

A few days later and I was home, Monday one week after the 'mugging', having ignored all the weird shit that was bound to happen sooner or later, and just rested.

Finally getting the bandages off, I looked at the... scratch scars, forcing myself to think counter to what the veil wanted, and found that I was okay with the three lines across my right shoulder, and the two lines across my chest. it actually looked pretty cool.

I met up with my friend Kyle, and was sorely tempted to take a look at his true appearance, but Detective Nox had told me not to use my magesight until the Division had the chance to test my abilities.

Like that a few more days passed, until the time came for my sister's 18th birthday party. We were bringing over friends and neighbours and even some of our parent's colleagues. It was quite late when The party got into full swing, the guests dancing and the kids put to bed. A few of the adults had gotten tired of the dance, and sat at a table chatting.

My table.

I'm not that much of a party guy, so I normally find somewhere to sit and chat with a couple of people. Nothing too crazy. However, this time it seemed my solitude was to be interrupted by the adults and their 'worldly concerns'.

Half listening at first, I soon turned my full attention to my father and mother discussing some unfortunate news in Australia with a few others, while trying to appear as though I was asleep.

They sat huddled together at the far end of the table hushed voices barely discernible.

"...you hear about the arachnith outbreak in...",

"...Wizard messed up...",

"...Let them out, probably on purpose...",

"....damn spark bastards..."

The last snippet was from the mouth of my very own father. See why I was overjoyed to find out I'm magical? The family.

My father and mother both come from old lines of witch-hunters, obsolete in the current era as we have the Wizard Division, but before that they were the only thing standing between man and monster. They carry their forebears' disgust for all things magical.

A few of the guests who weren't among this group looked over occasionally, and I could see Kyle's father wince now and again as he probably overheard what was being discussed. I went outside from the oppressive atmosphere, and lit a cigarette, breathing in the cold night air.

I know, I know, they'll kill me, but honestly my family drives me insane and I would prefer a bad cough to an asylum. But to be honest, I might end up there anyway, with how things are going.

I was halfway through my smoke when I looked up and through the darkness saw a figure on the roof of a house a few rows over. I opened my magesight instinctively and to my horror I recognised the creature as a werewolf, the cigarette falling from my lips.

It had its arms spread wide, and it began howling. It dropped from sight and I could hear glass smashing, shouts and screams.... and then nothing. Why the fuck was it always Mondays?

I quickly pulled out the phone and rang Det. Nox with the number he gave me, telling him what was happening at a mile a minute. He didn't even reply, just hung up, and less then 5 minutes later I heard a police siren in the distance.

I went back inside, praying that everything was okay. I barely got any sleep, and the following day, after getting up early for college, I made my way to the local bus stop, passing the house the werewolf was on the night before.

Maybe it was fate, destiny, or just shit luck, because as I passed on the opposite side of the street, they were taking a body out on a stretcher.

In the light of day the house looked familiar. Far too familiar. It was the Johnson's. They had just had a new-born and moved here for the good schools. We threw them a housewarming party.

There were only two bodybags on the side of the road. The street wasn't very wide, and it was extremely quiet this early in the morning, so I could over hear some cops chatting.

".....no sign.....gone......blood?.....nah.....Jesus Christ, just a....."

I stopped listening. I didn't want to hear any more. I knew what I had just over heard. Little Mina was missing. My face had a grimace set in stone for the entire bus ride, and when I got to campus at ACLU, I walked into the registrar's office, and said "My name is Charles Hennessy, and I quit".

Then I caught the bus downtown, walked 10 minutes to Police HQ, walked in the door and rang Nox. "I'm in the building". A few moments later, he walked through a set of double doors I hadn't seen earlier, beckoned me, and then turned around.

I followed quickly, finding it difficult to focus on the door.

He stopped a few minutes later, in front of an opaque glass office with the name David Nox, Special Detective First Class embedded in the door, one of many similar offices throughout the long hallways he had lead me down.

He snapped his fingers and the door opened, went inside and sat down into an armchair at a carved oak wood desk, almost a writing table. I sat in the simple plastic chair opposite him.

"So Charlie, ready to begin?"