Chapter 1

Swallowed By Glass

Soon a butterfly would glide with all of New York City on her wings.  

The first glass meteor crashed into the Insect Inn of the Bronx Zoo. Streams of pinks, violets, and indigos followed a meteor through the sky. From this rock, large meteoroids broke off and struck the ground. The meteoroids melted upon the streets and formed bubbles that encapsulated buildings. They sent the buildings afloat. 

Still a large enough meteor threatened New York with an eclipse. The sun was a flaming candle put out by the breath of a storm and the meteor its new bulb.

The world, besieged by freezing glass, wouldn’t be a livable world for any of them. Above it all was what no one else could see as the trees blocked their view: New York City was now a city in the sky. Buildings were sent flying and their windows cracked. There was no other glass other than the glass that flew, varied colors upon them from the light of the meteor.  

Nothing could prepare a city for this and so is the case for its people. Below, the human ants scurried in the confused weather. Glass slivers shot through men and women who yelled out in a crowd of summer colors.

White on a middle-aged man's shirt stained with mustard. Lemon yellow in the jeans of a teenager who pointed towards the sky. Candy apple red and mandarin orange in the striped crop top of a young woman. Prepared for a leisurely July with gorgeous animals, the air tasted and felt like the initial blast of cold powder in December. 

The beasts of New York leapt from their feasts in the confusion of this new darkness. Mantises leapt with scythes flailing in their erratic failure to grasp the air. Butterflies that landed on frozen terrain had their legs fall off from the frostbite. Bubbles trapped these insects in polished spheres. They rose with the Insect Inn from a strong draft below.  

The same fate fell upon two people - a teenage girl and her mother. 

The woman let out a shrill scream. She scurried with her child under the Inn but they could find no proper shelter from the winds. None inside the cave to the right as rocks fell to block the entrance. A glass sphere latched onto the mother’s leg. Still, the mother held onto her child. The child grabbed her belly where her yet-to-be-born sister kicked against the walls.    

"Stay calm. Remember, Elise? Count. One, two, three. One, two, three," she said.

Frostbite swallowed her leg with a cold gray. Yet her eyes swallowed the pain with wonder and exhilaration as they swam in her sockets to survey the rest of the Bronx Zoo. Animals that perished in the cold sent her into a further wonder.

Hawks could not fly, their wings frozen and stiff. Leopards shivered as their fur shed from the cold. 

While adrift, the child caught rubble to shatter the bubble on her mother’s leg. Their bodies rattled the roof of the Insect Inn when they fell upon it. To their left, bearded dragons skirted the dome of their habitat. 

She wasn’t alone.

A man on the light teal dome held a young boy in his arms.

Blood dripped from the teenager’s forehead, already dry with chips in the cold. 

The man walked towards the woman and saw her wounds. His eyes opened wide at the sight of a foot bitten blue from the cold. He saw her bewilderment and her amazement. He could see she knew nothing of her foot as she fixated on the city in the sky.

Knowing nothing of how to treat frostbite, he focused on his child. To stop the bleeding, he held his head close.     

Dragons met with butterflies. Lizard tongues, lodged in fixed jaws, could not grab prey in their mouths to eat. Instead, the insects fused with the lizards in frosty glass domes. 

***

Trapped, the four spent days floating there without food. The meteor, a glass rock suspended in the air, seemed to have been watching them during that time. There was almost a sigh in its whistle through the sky as it started its flight again. One that expressed worry that they hadn’t eaten for so long.

Arms around their stomachs, they groaned. There were only lizards, leopards and insects of various species to eat. Neither family wanted to resort to eating wild animals. But something in them caved. 

Peter ate a bearded dragon cooked a light brown by radiation. His boy opened his eyes to see his father with a lizard in his mouth.   

"Remember what the locals in Florida said about lizard meat, James? Chicken of the trees. Should be okay to eat," he said to his boy.     

Spikes grew under his chin when he swallowed, his eyes went black and wide, golden at their edge. Ears receded into his head; a pit where the appendage used to be. His skin turned yellow. 

Scared, James backed off into a statue of a leopard that struggled to move.     

“How ‘d you get here?” asked James, trembling. Above was bubble after fractured bubble. The only reason the four had survived so far was they hadn’t been close enough to the glass to experience the full force of its cold. 

James inspected the leopard and saw it was larger than any he had ever seen. Its fur thicker than the others whose coats were almost gone. 

The other leopards floated in bubbles around the ruined building to the northwest. In the large cat's mouth were two flowers - holly and pink camellia. The leopard’s flesh boiled and James had his stomach replaced by a cauldron, fear a fire in his belly. He pinched his eyes and shook his head. Realized the leopard was fine. That he was just seeing things again.

He felt himself thirstier than he had ever been. James grabbed the flowers from the animal and shoved it in his mouth. 

Chips of ice and blood fell from his head. He didn’t feel cold anymore. His body exuded a heat along with a strength that made him feel he could take on the beast in front of him. It was now obvious to them this was no ordinary meteor. 

He realized the glass meteor was radioactive. Everything around it evolved to survive this new New York City. If it didn’t die to the frigid temperatures, the bubbles rearranged the DNA of every living creature to make them strong and unique. That’s what happened to his father. A chilling desire for the same strength rose through his spine. 

So he ate the part of the leopard most affected by the radiation of the glass - its paws. 

He grew fur with spots about him, his thighs thickened and calves curved out with claws at the ends of his paws. He grew the pointed ears, yellow eyes, long, furry tail, wet, black snout and whiskers of a leopard. The curly red hair upon his head grew longer, more vibrant and into the shape of a mohawk. 

James then let go of his old name. He called himself Leopon but kept his middle and last names. 

So now he was Leopon Feyrd Akeor, names that meant leopard lion and ‘feared place’. Leopon walked back to his dad.

“You need a new name too, father, because this is a new life for us,” said Leopon. Peter, his father, licked his own eyes.

“Son, forget the name, what have you turned into? What have I… Did I just lick my eyeball?” He stared at his claws and held his tail in his arms. 

“James,” said his father.

“It’s Leopon.”

“Don’t let this get to you. You were born weak. You were harassed, called names. I know you must feel stronger now, and you do, indeed, look stronger, but be careful who you turn into.”

There was no use in this city for a man like his father. He could not see the new world about to rise with the glass. Leopon grabbed the butterfly over the scales of the bearded dragon below him.

Pouncing on bubble after bubble, he clawed at them. After they popped was a furious and freezing wind.

He flew in the current, towards the girl who sat on the Insect Inn with solid tears on her face. He handed her a petal of holly and camellia he hadn’t finished and hid the Monarch butterfly under a fold.

“Have this. You’ll feel better.” She shivered, the space between her brows pinched and mouth left agape. The young girl hyperventilated. Though Leopon could see in her eyes she was thirsty. 

He remembered how he felt when he saw the holly. The only way for him to survive his thirst, this cold. He sighed and took her chin to keep her mouth open and lay the flowers and butterfly inside it. She chewed and swallowed.

Eyes went wide then much like disco balls. She grew the wings of the Monarch butterfly. Though Leopon’s hands were animalistic, the girl kept human arms with the same flesh as before. No extra limbs, either. Long antennae, though, a proboscis, fur all along her body. Leopon closed his eyes and scoffed.

"I thought you'd be strong, not this dainty thing," he said. To their right, a large bubble crashed into a tall building across from Crotona Parkway. That building was ripped in two. Then lifted into the sky. Her wings did not give to the icy winds which blasted at them both. Kaleidoscopic eyes remained open while his own fur did give in. He had to shut his eyes until the winds calmed. 

He unsheathed his claws and had a go at her face. 

But she deflected his paw, her arm thrown away; he was stronger, but she was faster.   

“No’, he thought. 

‘She isn't faster. She knew my intentions before I knew them.’      

"If I could see like you, you'd be dead," said Leopon. He huffed. 

"Don't try to hurt me. I see too much and I already feel I've seen too much," she said. The butterfly tilted her head down and to the right. Focused her eyes on her mother who stared at the transformed city.   

The wind threw The Church of God of Southern Boulevard into the area.  The building crashed into a bubble that refused to shatter.

She would cry if she could, thought Leopon. Her mother might need to get her foot amputated. Anyone in her shoes would cry. 

"What should we call you?”

"My name is Elise. But now that I feel so new my old name seems inappropriate. Do you think Monica is a good name?" she asked. She extended her proboscis towards and around the leopard's neck and squeezed. Leopon coughed. Reached for his neck to remove her appendage but she did so herself. Before his claw could rend her. A sting radiated stronger on his neck the further away she moved her proboscis. She had cut him and he nearly furthered the injury.   

"I'm still thirsty. Your neck had a bit of frost on it; I took care of it," said Monica. Leopon couldn't catch up to her. Couldn't touch her even though he was faster, stronger. Monica knew him before he knew himself. That was her only advantage.   

"Do you think we'll ever be grounded again?" Leopon looked around. 

"The city?" he asked. 

"Not just the city. You." 

"What do you mean I'm not grounded?" He sat cross-legged. Closed his eyes and held his head with his left paw, elbow on his lap. She sat with him. 

"You think this is a new world. But nothing's really different. Except your ego." They crashed into a bubble that encapsulated them and brought with it an enraged storm. Peter was already sheltered from the winds in a glass dome. 

Monica's mother had bubbles cover her and carry her into the air. Before the breeze could take Monica's mother into the ceiling of the bubble, the butterfly fluttered over to her. Monica set her down on the Church of God. Next to the white cross that shone bright on the roof. 

Bothered by the light, Monica's mother turned herself over despite the pain.

"Leopon, help me find a flower for my mother to eat." He rolled his eyes but lept towards Hornaday Community Garden. The garden had bubbles that rolled and roamed like tumbleweeds in the desert. The air was dry as the emerald railings, covered in frost. 

Stairs led to a statue of a rooster where below it was a sign that read "Love" in varied colors. Fake sunflowers and spinners lay in wooden fences filled with dirt. Real flowers that, before the meteor, could not endure the cold now stood tall and proud. He scarfed down all the flowers he could.    

Leopon found the pink camelia, like a rose but intricate, the clover flower, like a pinecone but with thinner, purple spikes and pink sweet peas, like the butterfly.   

‘But not as beautiful as Monica.’ The flowers around him boiled. Like with the leopard before. Black bubbles with no shine to them; eyes could not penetrate their surface. Nothing could. He shook himself of these visions and looked around.

There was a mantis that was hidden by a lotus flower. A wasp headed straight for him with its stinger. It could not get past his robust fur to reach his flesh. 

‘She could use this… no. I could use her.’ He grabbed the insects and hid them in the flowers. 

Leopon jumped back towards the church, again atop bubbles that sent whirlwinds as he went. Propelled towards her, he made it and walked towards her with the flowers.

She couldn’t trust him yet - Monica whipped at Leopon with her proboscis. 

"What was that for?" he asked.   

"Mother is dying. Eat the flowers yourself; just a nibble. Make sure they're safe." 

Leopon did as she asked. Nothing happened. She grabbed the flowers and rushed over to her mother to stuff her mouth with them. 

Leopon's claws fell off and so did his fangs. He breathed in and out in a panic. Then picked up the body parts he lost. Calmed down after a few controlled breaths.

"Well. What do you think will happen to your mother?" asked Leopon. She stuck her proboscis deep into her mother’s mouth in an attempt to recover the flowers. 

"Careful. You might hurt the baby." Monica stopped. Her mother didn't heal. Cold, gray and dying, she expected her mother’s nails to fall off. But they remained intact.   

And to Leopon's surprise, she didn't mutate.   

Monica grabbed her mother and took off. Leopon reached for her with his clawless paws and wished she were his. 

A feeling that crept up in him like a black panther from the shadows. He recognized this longing but only felt it this strong now, after he ate the flowers. 

No longer angry at his past or envious of her power, he just wanted to be with her. But he didn't have wings with which to fly. He wasn't like her. Leopon realized this profound individuality, these vast differences in biology would distance them. They couldn't be lovers so long as he was a leopard and she was a butterfly. But there had to be a chance for him to be her partner.   

Leopon swiped away these feelings with his paw. Claws were shot out so fast he didn't notice. Monica’s mother yelled out; crucified by the wrists on the cross of the Church of God, she hung there by sharp claws. 

"Leopon!" he ignored her and lept towards West Farms Library to research why these flowers changed him so much. 

***

At 2129 Mohegan Ave, Leopon stood where graffiti had dripped down walls and froze. A Puerto Rican flag fell from the balcony of a red brick building.

 Again, animals did not survive the cold as he had; neither did the humans. Their skin cracked and revealed their veins to him, stained white in the storm. Muscles shone pink. Blood had already chipped away.

But someone survived under a bubble; a glass dome, near a motorcycle he kept revved up. Some holly grew nearby. Leopon grabbed it with his tail and ran towards the boy. Beige vomit with green chunks of food lay upon the concrete. He shivered. Too weak to respond to a six foot seven inch bipedal leopard boy, his eyes were the last part of him that gave up on survival. 

Leopon pierced the bubble with his tail. Then fed the boy the flower. 

“These evolutions are hit or miss. So change isn’t your choice but it is your option,” said Leopon. A wood frog croaked next to the boy in a small bubble. 

“Why aren’t you burnt up but this frog is?” The boy got up after the frost melted off him.

“Could be its size… See, when I place my hand near the surface, I burn up a little. But farther away…” said the boy as he motioned his hand away from and towards the bubble.

“What are you, a young expert on radiation?”

“My dad was a health physicist. He would’ve loved to study these bubbles…” He looked down as he spoke, afraid of Leopon’s eyes.

“Sorry about your dad. I’m Leopon and, after you eat this frog, we can give you a good name. A strong one, like Todd.”

“No. My name is Darrel and there’s no way I’m turning into one of you. Not like him,” said Darrel. Leopon’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“What do you mean? You spoke as if your father was gone and now you’re saying he turned into one of us? Did you…”

Darrel grimaced and whimpered. “He wanted me to. He kept begging.” Leopon ripped apart the frog, launched himself into Darrel and shoved the animal into his mouth.

“Chew.” Leopon grabbed his chin. Forced it up and made him chew. Darrel swallowed. Grew bright green skin. Pupils went rectangular with yellow sclera around it. His head became flat and mouth wide. Thighs thicker than Leopon’s twitched as he lay there. He squealed. 

Leopon smirked and offered him a paw. He had a new soldier.

“You’re going to tell me what your father turned into, Todd.” Todd grabbed his paw. Crushed concrete below his legs as he flipped Leopon over. When he positioned Leopon under him, a glass rock slammed against the leopard boy’s abdomen. Todd croaked.

“My father turned into a snake. He was without legs but he could still feel them. You would have done the same,” said Todd. Leopon chuckled as he coughed up blood.

“I would have told him to get used to it.”

Todd did a sideways flip and kicked Leopon in the stomach. The street cracked with frost and concrete. With the swipe of his leg, an air slash cut a metal pole in half. A sign that read ‘No Parking’ fell next to them. Todd grabbed the sign with his webbed feet. Almost stabbed Leopon in the stomach with it.

But he pushed himself back, away from Todd. The sign bent over itself upon the concrete. Leopon almost crashed into a deli behind him. But he jumped and landed on a green fire escape. 

He felt dizzy for a moment. As if he had some three sixty view of the world and the world in that view spun around him.

“That’s new…” said Leopon. Todd pounced at him again.

“Todd, wait. You saw that right?” 

“All I want is to see you dead.” Beyond reason, Leopon sped away from Todd.

‘I should find out why I could maneuver myself away from that deli without awareness of it… or was my body aware of it?’

Leopon, though he did not look, had his tail slam against a group of meteors. Then landed on the ground, right next to West Farms Library.

‘Again? This tail is like a third eye… no.’ 

Leopon entered the library.

‘If these bubbles aid in evolution, could the senses evolve? What of viruses? There must be an illness even our advanced bodies couldn’t fight against. What gets worse in the cold…’

Leopon walked towards a computer. Legs stumbled over each other; he couldn’t move in a straight line. Confused, dizzied, vision blurred, he sat down when he finally arrived at the desk.

I only started feeling this way when I walked. I’ll start with balance issues. There was information on vertigo and presyncope. Paws on the keyboard, he looked up whether these symptoms get worse in the cold.

‘They do… what about vertigo in cats? Is there a treatment?’ No results for viable treatment options were available to him.

‘But this is a new world… there must be something I can do.’ Leopon stroked his whiskers. His eyes widened. Into the search bar, he typed “cat senses”.

‘No. I should be more specific. Cat whiskers… purpose.’ He scratched the back of his neck. 

“Cat’s whiskers… are like antennae? What about cat’s tails?”

“Tails are used for balance. I can orient myself with my whiskers and keep from falling with my tail. Vertigo can’t touch me,” said Leopon as he stood up. 

‘What about Monica?’ He slammed the desk.

“Why do I care about her so much? Ever since those flowers…”

Legs stumbled forward again. He leaned upon a chair. 

‘Focus.’

His tail twitched and wagged. He kept his eyes closed, which made him dizzier, but it had to be done this way. The most difficult way. That would make him stronger. He opened the door to let the cold in; placed a rock near the door as a stopper. The library, filled with frozen glass, was as cold as it was outside.  

As he stumbled leftward, his tail moved down to stabilize him. But he crashed hard into a desk. Bent over it, he grunted.

“Gah. Like I could know that desk was there without my eyes… no, I’ll try again. After a break.”

Leopon removed the glass rock and let the door close itself. After an hour’s search, he had pages worth of information on the flowers he had consumed.

Holly is what made them resistant to the cold. The plant remains green and full of life, even in lower temperatures. If these flowers mutated to such an extent, pink camellia could protect against radiation. As he read on, he realized there were meanings to these flowers that answered some of his questions. The red clover could be used for anger. He was angry. Pink camellia represents longing. After he consumed this flower he longed for Monica. 

"These feelings aren't my own," said Leopon.   

‘And soon they'll fade away,’ he thought. He swallowed hard. He stood up and ran towards the door, his imbalance kept him away from the straight path he would have taken.   

‘I need more flowers.’ 

Leopon zig zagged from desk to chair to desk but didn't crash into anything. 

‘The key is to keep my eyes open. My whiskers work with my eyes.’ Back to his chair, he did more research on tails. 

‘Tails are a counterbalance. Am I too heavy? If I put more force into my tail swing, I should be able to use it better.’

Leopon arranged blue chairs and wooden desks to make an obstacle course in the library. He practiced for hours. Slammed into the white ceramic black speckled floor, crashed into dark red walls and chairs and considered quitting a few times. Then he considered Monica. He thought of her as he danced from corner to corner, desk to desk. If he ever wanted to dance with her, he would have to practice. He would have to teach her.   

‘She doesn't have whiskers. Or a tail. She isn't like me. Why do I still…’

A harsh wind blew from outside. Again he was cold. The same frigidity he felt before he ate the flower from that frozen leopard. He stopped his dance. Leopon's fur stood on end and he shivered. 

‘I'm cold again. Shouldn't I have stopped longing for Monica by now?’ Leopon stood still. Eventually, he forgot about her.   

But then he went forward. Though he went towards the door, towards the light, the cold, when he moved, he felt warmer.

He couldn’t move without beginning his dance. As natural as his walk, he danced over to the exit, as if the obstacles weren’t there at all. 

There was only his butterfly, Monica, and he thought he danced with her. His heart was a bulb obscured by her wings; when he was still, Monica got out of the way of the light and he forgot about her. 

He wanted his heart under her wings, lain upon his chest to hide the light. 

Leopon’s world would always be dark but he would never be lonely so long as he had the chance to dance with her. As long as he thought of her. With the darkness she provided him with, there was the opportunity for him to shine. 

They say hope is a light. To Leopon, hope was a butterfly and her name was Monica.