I couldn’t remember the first time someone took real notice of my horns. The distrust and hatred they displayed towards me was too much for me to bare. So I ran into the woods to hide. That was my first mistake. The second was trusting others. There was a research facility nearby, and when they caught wind of my being in their woods, they took their shot and hit. I went with them; I wanted to be normal. I didn’t want to be this weird thing that just existed. I was like the gods of the old times, yet it felt so new. Like a disease that sprung alive within me, and there wasn’t anything someone could do. My horns grew so fast, and so heavy they felt like a crown forced upon my head. I felt so angry, but I couldn't change a thing.