“What the- ! What kind of toxic? You mean I’m poisoned? Am I going to die?” I shouted over the crows.

Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Spiderzilla. She knew how toxic it was and still sent me out with it. I should have let the staff kill her and then made a run for it. But with arachnophobia, I would’ve died of fear before the staff killed her.

The crows went silent and Mister Crow’s clear laughter rang out, which made me more pissed.

“So what now?” I demanded in a huff.

“Well, I don’t think you should worry about that, at least not much.” He waved and pointed at my dark purple hands and my purple face with an open palm. “Don’t you know you’ve got Phirhollium exposure written all over your body with your obvious purpanotic skin tone? I wonder how you could take your profound purpanosis without any pain.”

“Say what? Fearo-who? Purp-what? I’m sorry but you’re not speaking English.” I held my hands against my temples, my brain was starting to hurt.

“Ok, ok, try me again. Start with the Fearo-thing again.” I inched closer to him and in return, he inched away from me. It was getting weirder by the minute.

“Phirhollium. It’s the active ingredient in what you call Malvaos.” He looked at me as if he was inspecting a lab rat.

“It’s what gives your skin this lovely shade of purple, purpanosis. Pretty soon, it results in the Purple Plague. Once you start glowing, you will become infectious and pass it on to others. Although, I am not sure they will take it standing like you.” He made strange clicking sounds, crow noises, at the back of his throat, echoed by crows clacking in the trees.

Damn, I’m pissed. What was he, a doctor now? No doctor saved my dad from turning purple. I know all about the pain this pigment causes. I had to watch my dad suffer and die from it. I balled my hands into fists and kicked at a nearby rock, feeling the aches from my long run yesterday.

I tried to brush the anger off. At least I won’t be turning into a spider. And, my purple skin had saved me from the torture of the guards back at the prison for so long before the sleepwalking. Maybe I really was special. I stomped the ground with my other foot. Maybe I should go live in Candyland too.