He doubled over, gripping the porcelain sink as he dry heaved. His insides felt like he'd eaten hot coals, and his skin had a sheen of sweat that glistened in the horrible striped lighting. His haggard appearance stared back at him in the mirror, but he turned away from his reflection.

He rebelled against seeing the inevitable. In just a few more minutes, the face staring back at him wouldn't be the one he remembered, but the thing he was forced to become. He pressed his hands against the glass, resisting the urge to smash it into pieces. His father wouldn't care if he broke another mirror, but it would be an added pain to clear away.

And in the end, a smashed mirror wouldn't change his reflection. It wouldn't change what was wrong with him.

He stumbled back as the changes inside him ceased, but surged with new energy to the surface. It felt as though his brain was being steamed inside his skull, as his vision blurred, everything taking on a blue like tinge.

It wouldn't be long now, he thought to himself.

Pain flashed across his neck, pulsed through his fingers, and made his toes ache. He stumbled backwards on shaky legs, his back colliding with a tiled wall. He slid down to the floor, enjoying the coldness that seeped through his t-shirt.

He knew most humans would grow cold but his body relished it. It was just one of the many things that alienated him from the rest of the world.

He allowed himself to wallow in self pity for only a few minutes, before heaving himself to his feet. His reflection glared back at him, his brown hair was gone, replaced with green wavy locks. Fangs grew from the top of his mouth and the bottom. Those would never bother him as much as the four slashes on either side of his neck, and the scales that now climbed over his skin.

He closed his eyes and gripped the door handle hard. The image of himself smashing the mirror seeped through his mind. He'd destroyed countless over the years, when the physical attributes of his condition were too much for him to take, but after dealing with it for the last 12 years, he'd learnt restraint - or at least some resemblance of it.

He left the mirror intact and stepped into the lab that was both his work place and his home.

'It's getting quicker,' his friend/lab assistant Diana said.

'42 minutes from sunset.'

Diana wrote it down on her spreadsheet, her eyebrows pulled down low as she looked at the data they'd been collecting for years.

'Lucas, your transformation used to take over two hours.'

'I fucking know that,' he snapped at her, before hanging his head. 'I'm sorry, Diana.'

She pursed her lips but let his outburst slide.

'The time it takes you to transform has been steadily declining ever since you were seventeen, but over the last year...' she let the sentence hang.

Lucas took a seat at the computer, though he didn't need to see the projection she was looking at on her screen.

'How long until I don't transform back?'

Diana switched off the screen. 'There's still so much we don't understand-'

'My father's had someone working on a cure since I was seventeen. We've been working on it for the last six years. And what have we really discovered?'

'We know that it's sunlight, and the lack of it that causes your transformation. We know the changes are on a cellular level rather than a genetic one.'

'But we're no closer to a cure.' Lucas gripped the steel table and they both heard the sound of the steel bending under his grip.

Diana sighed as Lucas put distance between them.

'How hard are you craving the water?' she asked, looking towards the rippling water in the pool that took up most of the square space.

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he kept his eyes firmly planted on her.

'I know you're finding it harder not to go to it after you transform,' she reasoned.

'I don't want to talk about it.'

'It should be something we're monitoring.'

'I don't want to argue about this again,' he said through gritted teeth.

'And I don't want to watch my best friend end up stuck in a fish tank for the rest of his life,' she argued, pools of blotchy red appearing on her usually pale skin.

'I won't let that happen.'

His promise hung in the air, each of them knowing what he meant, but neither wanting to say it allowed.

It would have been stupid for him not to think of the worst case scenario, and if that happened he knew his life wouldn't be worth living.

'You should get going,' he said finally.

Diana picked up her coat from the back of her chair, though her eyes continued to stray back to the black screen.

'The problem will still be there tomorrow,' he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice considering he was the problem.

'Do you want me to stay? I can take more samples.'

'I can take samples myself. Why should both of us not have a life?' He tried to turn it into a joke, but it fell flat.

'Call me if you need anything,' Diana urged.

She didn't move until she had his agreement, and even then she lingered over checking the machinery, and shutting down the rest of her workspace.

He rolled her eyes at her procrastination. 'Shouldn't you have a date or something?'

'Who has time to date these days?'

'What about that girl you saw two weeks ago?' He hated the fact that his condition - or curse - was not just ruining his life, but also his friend's. They were each living to save him, but if things went wrong, then he wanted to know that his friend was happy, that she could move on.

'She talked with her mouth full.' Diana shivered at the memory and Lucas laughed.

'There's someone out there,' he consoled her.

Diana waved off his words as though they were errant flies before heading towards the door.

'The same could be said for you. Don't give up,' she urged him before clicking the door shut.

He actually laughed at her words.

As if anyone could fall in love with me now.

He wandered to the small kitchenette area, divided from the lab with thick glass panes. Lighting had been arranged in the ceiling to mimic natural light since the lab windows had thick plates of metal in place, to avoid anyone seeing just what a monster he was.

Many people would have assumed that it was sunlight, but his cells didn't react to it. His skin remained scaly and inhuman.

Leaning into the fridge, he pulled out the milk, but cringed as the pungent smell escaped as he twisted the lid. It gurgled as he poured it down the sink, whilst trying not to feel ill.

'Shit. I need coffee,' he whispered to himself as he checked the time on the desk clock.

He could feel the water dragging him in. It called to him like nothing else did. Yet the harder it pulled him, the more he pulled away, until his body would force him to the water.

He entered his private elevator, and punched the number that would take him to the main kitchen area on level four. It was a risk, even as he pulled the hood of his jacket over his face, but it was also late. The chances of anyone still working were remote, and his father paid the security team an exceptional amount to keep their mouths shut about him living in the building, not that he strayed from his basement lab after sundown. At least, he didn't usually.

There was a ping and the doors opened on to a dark corridor. He would have preferred it to stay that way, but as soon as he moved, the lights flickered to life, and the corridor was flooded with light. His steps picked up, but thankfully, the kitchen was deserted.

He looked at the snazzy coffee machine with envy, and bent down to check the milk. It was a snatch and grab mission, but the sound of the door opening behind him, melted his plans. He took the milk, and quietly shut the door, keeping behind the island, with the hope the person would go away.

'Yes, I'm working late. I'm still organising the lab,' came a tired female voice. 'Yes, I'm just getting my lunchbox from the fridge and then I'm leaving.'

The unknown woman continued to talk on her phone, whilst Lucas cursed and glared at the fridge right next to his hiding spot. There was nothing else he could do; he stood and pretended to be using the coffee machine.

He could hear the quick intake of breath from the woman behind him.

'Sorry, if I scared you,' he said, though didn't dare turn around.

'I didn't realise anyone was in here. Nana I got to go,' she whispered the last part into her phone before hanging up.

'There's usually no one still working this late,' Lucas said, trying to keep the accusation out of his words. It wasn't this woman's fault that he'd risked everything for a bit of milk.

'I just moved into the lab on level five, still sorting through the machinery. Everything needs to be set up before I can carry on with my research, and that takes time, and my lab assistant is off sick,' she rambled.

'You're the new marine biologist?'

'Guess news travels fast around here.' She laughed nervously. 'Are you working in one of the labs?'

'Basement level.'

The coffee machine grunted as piping hot coffee began pouring into his cup - at least he hoped it was coffee. After pushing buttons, and hoping for the best, he wasn't sure what was going to come out. If it was edible, then that would be a bonus, but it served as a great excuse for not looking directly at the woman.

'You're Lucas Ashfield. Your father is Edward Jushua Ashfield. He funds the research in this building,' she said, trying to contain her nerves.

Lucas tried to contain his snort of amusement. His father funded many projects in the building, most were to help steer research to find a cure for his cursed son, the rest were scattered across disciplines to divert away from anyone finding out what was really happening there.

'I was told the basement lab was out of bounds,' she said when he didn't answer.

'Experimental. Best not to have anyone around.'

'Sounds interesting. And is that your field? Experimental?'

He had to hand it to her, the woman had a spark.

'Genetics. Botany. Mediterranean mythology.'

'That's quite a collection.'

'I struggled to pick one,' he said with a shrug.

In reality it had felt prudent to study as much as he could, given that he had no idea why he'd become such a monster.

The woman's phone rang again, and she sighed before placing it back in her coat.

'I need to get to the fridge,' she stated.

He gripped his cup, and slid his hand back inside his sleeve as he moved out of the way. The last thing he needed was for her to see the webbed skin between his fingers.

'I read your paper on seaweed growth in the Mediterranean and its effects on migrating Atlantic fish. It was insightful.'

He heard the fridge open and risked a glance behind him to see her back bent. Her hair was a shocking shade of bubblegum pink, which clashed horrendously with the purple sweater that was casually draped over her shoulders.

Even in the horribly unflattering lighting, she still glowed with colour. A perfect ball of sunshine, whilst he remained stuck in his eternal midnight rain.

'It was nice to meet you Dr Penna,' he said as he left.

The gills on the side of his neck were aching. He had to return the water before he could no longer get oxygen from the air.

'You should come see my research sometime Dr Ashfield,' she called after him.

And despite his aching muscles, despite the insistent need to get to the water, he smiled.