Kehl: The Story With Parents: Part one

It was a crisp mid-afternoon when Kehl heard the familiar, near-silent hum of his parents’ electric car gliding into the driveway of his Seattle home. The private lab overlooking Puget Sound, usually a hive of his solitary activity, now felt like a stage set for an impossible reveal. They’re here, he thought, a jolt that was equal parts nervous anticipation and a strange, burgeoning excitement tightening his chest. His newly formed gills flared almost imperceptibly under his jawline as he reflexively adjusted his glasses; the lenses fogged for a moment from his quick, anxious breath. God, what are they going to say? What can they even say?

The doorbell rang, a sharp, civilized chime that sliced through the charged quiet of the house. Kehl took a steadying breath, the air feeling different, richer in his expanded lungs. His clawed hands flexed and unflexed at his sides, the black, glossy keratin clicking softly. He shuffled towards the door, his powerful new tail, still an awkward appendage in tight spaces, swished and nearly sent a precarious stack of research journals tumbling.

He pulled the door open.

There they stood: Dr. Elena Vortex and Dr. Marcus Vortex, his parents, their expressions initially reflecting the polite expectation of a routine visit. Elena held a wicker basket filled with her famous homemade seafood pastries, their savory scent a sudden, poignant reminder of normalcy. Then, her sharp, analytical eyes, the ones that could dissect a research paper in minutes, landed on him. She froze mid-step, her usually unflappable composure cracking. The basket tilted precariously. Marcus, ever the taller and more outwardly stoic of the two, blinked rapidly behind his own spectacles, his mouth parting slightly as if to speak, but no sound emerged. His gaze swept over Kehl, from the teal-blue mane and finned ears, down the massively muscled torso, to the shockingly large, round belly, and finally to the powerful, digitigrade legs and clawed feet.

“Kehl?” Elena finally breathed, her voice a strained whisper, a complex tapestry of shock, disbelief, and a mother’s immediate concern. She fumbled, setting the pastry basket heavily on the porch rail, her eyes never leaving her son. “What… in the name of every known biological principle… happened to you?”

Kehl managed a shaky, toothy grin that felt more like a grimace. “Uh, hi Mom. Dad.” His voice was a deeper rumble than they’d ever heard. He stepped back, a self-conscious gesture that inadvertently showcased the sheer breadth of his new form. His claws scraped lightly, audibly, against the painted doorframe. “It’s, uh… a very long, very weird story. Come in? Please?” He gestured awkwardly with a massive, blue-skinned hand, his tail giving a nervous twitch that brushed the wall, leaving a faint, silvery-blue smudge of skin cells.

They followed him inside, their footsteps, usually so confident, now hesitant on the polished hardwood floors. Their eyes, trained for meticulous observation, darted from the scattered, high-tech lab equipment—some of it clearly disturbed from his initial, clumsy post-transformation movements—to the sheer, unbelievable bulk of their son.

The living room carried the faint, lingering scent of saltwater and chlorine from his recent, experimental bath. Kehl gestured them towards the reinforced sofa he’d recently started using, perching carefully on its edge. The cushions groaned and visibly sagged under his new, considerable weight.

Marcus, after a long moment of silent, intense scrutiny, finally adjusted his glasses, his gaze fixated on Kehl’s prominent abdomen. “This… this is the result of your research, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone a carefully controlled blend of scientific intrigue and profound parental worry. “The myostatin inhibitors? The shark DNA integration for enhanced cellular regeneration?”

Kehl nodded, a complicated mix of shame and a peculiar sort of pride washing over him. He instinctively ran both clawed hands over his large, round belly. The taut, glossy white skin yielded with that unique, rubbery elasticity he was starting to find strangely compelling, the dense layer of underlying muscle pulsing with a satisfying, powerful resilience. “Yeah, ” he admitted, his voice still a bit gravelly. “I… I may have fast-tracked the human trials. Injected myself about a week ago, hoping for a controlled muscular boost.” He looked down at his pecs, arms, and legs, all undeniably impressive. “The muscles definitely came through. But this…” He patted his belly again, the sound a soft, resonant thud. “This was… an unexpected amplification. There’s a thick, powerful layer of muscle under all this… buoyant adipose tissue. It’s just… much bigger than I anticipated.” He offered another sheepish, sharp-toothed grin, enjoying the subtly pumped-up, full sensation, the way it jiggled with a contained power when he shifted, its smooth surface gleaming under the afternoon light.

Elena, recovering some of her composure, moved to sit beside him, though she left a careful few inches of space. Her hand hovered, then gently, almost reverently, touched his massive bicep. She felt the incredibly dense, sculpted muscle beneath the surprisingly smooth, cool blue skin. “Kehl, darling, ” she said, her voice softer now, laced with a familiar exasperation but also an undeniable flicker of awe in her eyes. “You should have told us. Consulted us. This is… scientifically groundbreaking, yes, but monumentally risky. Have you even documented the full spectrum of cellular changes? The metabolic shift?”

“Some, ” Kehl replied, appreciative of her touch, however tentative. “But it happened so incredibly fast. The primary muscle fiber multiplication, the specialized adipose cell expansion, the osteogenesis for the tail… most of it seemed to happen overnight after a latency period. I’ve been a bit preoccupied figuring out things like… well, breathing underwater without drowning.” He chuckled, a dry, breathy sound, and his gills fluttered briefly at his neck. A slight itch from the pool chlorine still lingered there, and he scratched it absentmindedly with a claw.

Marcus had begun to pace, his scientist brain clearly overriding his initial shock. He picked up a data tablet from the lab bench, its screen spiderwebbed with cracks from an earlier mishap. “We need to run full diagnostics. Blood panels, tissue samples, MRI, the works. The integration of Carcharodon carcharias DNA at this level of somatic expression… it’s extraordinary. You need to come to the Institute. We have the facilities, the containment protocols…”

Kehl’s good humor vanished. His new, expressive finned ears flattened slightly. “No.” The word was quiet but firm, edged with steel. “I’m not going to the Institute. I’m not going to be poked and prodded like one of your lab rats, Dad. Not anymore.” He rested his hands protectively on his belly, the gesture almost defiant.

Elena frowned. “Kehl, this isn’t about treating you like a specimen. This is about your health, about understanding what’s happened. We need to monitor you closely.”

“You can monitor me here, ” Kehl countered, his voice rising slightly. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.”

Marcus stopped pacing, his expression hardening. “Fine? Kehl, you’ve rewritten your entire genetic code on a whim! We don’t know the long-term effects, the potential for instability, for… regression, or worse. This is uncharted territory. If it’s unstable, we might need to… to reverse it. We still have your baseline DNA, your original research notes. We could synthesize a counter-agent, potentially destroy the introduced genetic material and guide your cells back.”

The air crackled with tension. Kehl surged to his feet, his sudden movement making the floorboards creak. His tail thrashed once, knocking a lamp to the floor with a crash that made both his parents jump. “NO!” Kehl roared, his voice a startlingly powerful sound that vibrated through the room, his sharp teeth bared in a snarl that was pure predator. “You can’t! You won’t! Destroy this? Go back? Are you insane?” He spread his arms wide, showcasing his powerful chest, his bulging biceps, his incredible new form. “Look at me! I’ve gained so much! This strength, this vitality… I can finally breathe properly! I feel… alive! This body, ” he slammed a fist against his muscular chest, then gestured emphatically to his entire physique, including his prominent, round belly, which he now patted with a fierce sort of pride, “this is PERFECT! It’s what I’ve always wanted, even if I didn’t know how to ask for it! Maybe not every single detail was planned, but the result… it’s incredible!” His gills flared wide, his eyes blazing with a passion they’d never seen in their usually reserved son. “I’m not going back to being… that. That I cannot remain a weak, pathetic person, incapable of anything! I won’t lose all of this! I just… I want to live a normal life! Or, as normal as this can be!” He gestured around him, the intensity of his outburst leaving him slightly breathless, his massive chest heaving.

His parents stared, but the shock on their faces was rapidly being replaced by a grim resolve. The broken lamp lay between them, a symbol of the shattering understanding.

Elena’s voice, when she finally spoke, was cold, devoid of its earlier maternal warmth. “Normal life? Kehl, you are a walking, talking biological anomaly of unprecedented scale. There is no normal life for you now, not without our intervention and control.”

Marcus nodded, his expression severe. He pulled out his phone. “Your resistance is… noted. But ultimately futile. You are a potential biohazard, son. And frankly, a danger to yourself. You can’t resist forever. If you don’t want to come to the Institute willingly, we’ll make you.” His thumb hovered over a contact. “They’ll come and take you away by force. People who are equipped to handle… situations like this. For your own good, and for the good of science.”

Kehl’s eyes, which had blazed with passionate defiance, narrowed. The initial shock of their threat gave way to a simmering, dangerous calm. He looked from his mother’s icy expression to his father’s stern one. A flicker of disbelief, of hurt, crossed his transformed features. “You can’t do that to your son, ” he said, his voice lower now, a tremor of betrayal beneath the growing anger.

But their faces remained impassive, their scientific duty apparently overriding any familial sentiment.

A slow, predatory grin, entirely unlike any expression they had ever seen on their son, spread across his blue-muzzled face. His glasses glinted. He looked down at his own clawed hands, flexing them slowly. He felt the power thrumming through his new body, the dense muscle, the surprising resilience of his large, round belly. He glanced at the shattered lamp, then back at his parents.

“Try it, ” he rumbled, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate from the very core of his transformed being.

Before his parents could react further, before Marcus could complete the call, Kehl moved with a speed and power that belied his bulk. He spun, his powerful tail acting as a counterbalance, and launched himself towards the large panoramic window of his lab — the one overlooking the choppy waters of Puget Sound.

With a deafening crash of shattering safety glass, Kehl burst through the window frame. For a heart-stopping moment, his massive, blue-and-white form was silhouetted against the gray afternoon sky, shards of glass raining down around him. Then, he arced downwards, his body surprisingly aerodynamic, his powerful tail lashing once for stability.

He hit the cold, dark water of the Sound with an enormous splash, the impact sending a plume of white water high into the air.

His parents rushed to the now-empty, jagged window frame, staring down in stunned horror and disbelief. Below, the turbulent water offered no immediate sign of him, only spreading ripples and the distant cry of a gull. The seafood pastry lay forgotten on the floor. The battle lines had been drawn, and Kehl had just made his first move.