Even though he knew what was coming and tried to brace himself, Wally is still filled with an instinctual terror that turns his skin to gooseflesh and makes the hairs on his neck stand on end as he watches Anna’s face split and unfurl. His trembling arms fight to keep his phone steady as he records the transformation. But as much as he wants to look away, he forces himself to study the monster’s hideous form. The many rows of small, pointed teeth that line the edges of its face, dripping with a clear slime that might be saliva. Its gaping maw filled with large, conical incisors that all point radially inward. Its eyes, red rings which seem to glow with reflected light, follow him as he moves to capture every angle.

“Th-the um… the arms, too,” Wally says, unable to hide the tremor in his voice. The creature squints at him, an oddly human expression of annoyance on a decidedly inhuman face, before granting his request. Its arms split into several writhing tentacles, each colored maroon from the tip to the upper arm, where they transition back to Anna’s skin color.

Having stared at the creature for several minutes now, he is slowly growing used to it, being gradually desensitized to this horrific distortion of the human body. He ends the recording, but still can’t pull his eyes away. After all, for someone as enamored with astronomy and the pursuit of the unknown as Wally, bearing witness to a living, breathing extraterrestrial lifeform is as fascinating as it is terrifying. He hasn’t forgotten his anger and distrust, not entirely, but curiosity and scientific interest are gaining ground. And, he figures, if it ever does decide to turn on him, it wouldn’t hurt to know what its weaknesses are.

***

Once Wally had finished filming me, I returned to my human form. He took it surprisingly well, especially compared to the last time. As he continued to stare at me, apparently lost in thought, I cleared my throat and asked, “Was that good enough?”

“Hmm? Oh, right,” Wally responded, playing back a portion of the video on his phone. “Yeah, uh… this is fine. How… how do you even do that?”

That one question sparked a long discussion of my unique biology and abilities, during which Wally listened intently, even jotting down notes. I explained that while my transformation was something of a default form, I also had precise control over the individual cells and tissues in my body, which was itself a mosaic of Anna’s cells and my own. I mentioned my ability to heal as an extension of this, recounting how I removed the strangulation marks on Anna’s neck. I told him that I had little memory of the time before I landed on Earth, left without knowledge of what I was or if there were others like me. I lamented the fact that, in addition to knowing almost nothing about myself, I didn’t retain any of Anna’s memories, either.

“Wait,” Wally interrupted. “I get that you don’t have her memories, but what about learned skills? Like, how can you speak English?”

“Oh, I just taught myself. The Internet was immensely helpful.”

Wally balked at that. “You taught yourself everything? Surely you at least knew basic things, like how to walk.”

I shook my head. “When I first landed, I knew how to walk in my original body, but I had to relearn all my motor skills in Anna’s body.”

“That’s… incredible,” Wally said in wide-eyed amazement.

I tilted my head, puzzled by how impressed he was. “Are humans born knowing those things? I thought you also had to learn to walk and use language…”

“Yeah, I did, but it took me a year just to say my first words. You were able to speak perfect English in what… a day?”

“A few hours, actually,” I said sheepishly. “But I still had an adult human brain, so that must have helped. Humans are hardwired for language, after all.”

“Okay, fair enough. But what about learning other things, like Anna’s classes? I saw you in physics. It seemed like you understood everything perfectly, and I know for a fact Anna would’ve taken at least a week to grasp those concepts.”

“I’m just a quick learner, I guess…”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Wally said with an amused grin. It was the first time I’d seen him genuinely smiling at me since he discovered the truth. “At this rate, you could be the next… Einstein…” Suddenly, the smile fell from his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed by the abrupt shift in mood. I tried to recall where I’d heard the apparent trigger, “Einstein,” before. It seemed so familiar, but I couldn’t quite make the connection.

“Nothing, I just… it’s nothing,” he replied, looking down to check the time on his phone. “Hey, it’s getting late. I think we should get some sleep. Let’s talk more tomorrow, okay? And um… sorry for exploding on you earlier.”

I was shocked by his graciousness. “That’s okay, it must have been a lot to take in all at once.”

“Yeah…” he said, beginning to stand up. “Anyway, goodnight An—oh. Um… do you have a name?”

I shook my head. “I’ve just been going by Anna. I don’t mind if you call me that, it’s a nice name.” I figured it would make things simpler, since he would have to call me Anna in public. That was a mistake.

Wally frowned. “Anna was her name, and you’re not her,” he said coldly. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his noise. “I guess I’ll just call you… Allie or something.”

“Ah-lee,” I repeated. “Oh, as in ‘Ann-AH-LEE-ss’? That’s pretty clever!” I thought Wally had the same concern I did, accidentally using my real name in public. This way, it would be easy to explain away a slip-up as a new nickname. But again, I miscalculated.

Wally rolled his eyes, growing frustrated. “No, it’s short for alien.”

“But alien doesn’t start with ‘ah’, it starts with ‘ay’,” I quipped.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. “It’s not that deep. It’s literally just short for alien.”

Foolishly, I decided to tease him a bit. “Oh, I could spell it 'A-L-L-Y', like your name but without the ‘W’. As in ‘Hi there Wally, I’m your ally, pleased to—'”

“IT'S SHORT FOR ALIEN,” Wally shouted, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him. Admittedly, I had pushed my luck, attempting build rapport with him by emulating Anna’s proclivity for wordplay. Evidently, I tried to get too friendly too soon, and it had the opposite effect.

My mind flashed to an earlier point in the conversation, the moment when Wally shifted from jovial to somber. Finally, I remembered that “Einstein” was what Anna had called Wally in a text. I kicked myself, realizing why he had looked so sad, why he insisted on naming me something else, and why he reacted so violently when I tried to act like Anna. He didn’t want to be reminded of her. Of course he didn’t, because he was still grieving her. And every time he looked at me and saw her face, it opened his wounds anew.

I booted up Anna’s laptop, filled with a renewed conviction to find Anna’s killer, for Wally’s sake as well as hers. I looked through her browser history, locating the login page for her email. Although I didn’t know her password, I did have her cell phone, and after resetting the password to something I would remember, I was in. I scrolled through her inbox, skimming past messages from friends, school announcements, and the occasional junk mail, until something caught my eye.

From: [email protected]

Subject: party

You better keep your mouth shut OR ELSE.

-A

It was sent on April 1st. Two days before Anna’s death.