She couldn't breathe.

There was too much at stake and too little to sacrifice. Anxiety attacks her, hundreds (thousands) of invisible needles prick her skin, cold and hot at the same time. Her vision is littered with black spots and her lungs felt like they were collapsing. Too many thoughts, too little thoughts.

She didn't know what was going on.

There was silence, there was noise; too many things going on, nothing going on. She didn't know what was happening. Too many people around her, not one person around her. Her senses were failing, her senses were on overdrive.

There was both too much and too little.

She sinks to the ground, her knees weaken and give way. Her eyes see too much, too little. There was too much colour, there was no colour. 

Her hands make their way to her head, stopping too many and too little. Her eyes become blank then dilate, her breathing becomes ragged. She starts shaking, she pulls her hair tight. People around her notice; one attempts to approach her.

She suddenly starts screaming.

People around her jump in shock, almost disgusted, almost disturbed. She starts scratching her arms, rendering them red and almost breaks skin, until somebody pulls at her hands.

Strong, tight, commanding.

The smell of the ocean invades her nose, and whispers (snap out of it, snap out of it, snap out of it) pour in her ears. Her breathing calms down, she stops shaking, she closes her eyes.

She collapses.

Murmurs were everywhere.

(Who is that man? How are they related? It's not our problem now.)

And then suddenly, no one remembers anything—the lady and the man vanish.

In the shadows of an alley, the tall man carries the woman, and vanish into the wall.

A black cat emerges.

(Her power is far too much, far too great for her to handle. She was overwhelmed and finally collapsed.

Bring her back. Her training is nowhere near done.

Understood.)

The cat's green eyes become blue.

The pouring rain marked the end of summer.

She was walking, her face void of emotion, her strides confident but almost trying to be invisible. The pavement was wet from the rain, small puddles on the side. People were rushing about, occasionally bumping into her. Her pace was slower than normal (but definitely not to the point of annoying the people behind her), her posture rigid and almost secretive.

Too many things going on in her head. Nothing going on in her head. She had no idea herself but she was doing something.

She swipes her card and waits for the metro at the platform. Beside her, high school girls were chatting about. Behind her, a lady was on her smartphone, the familiar sounds of Candy Crush reaching her ears. She takes out her earphones and drowns in her playlist. She gets lost, her eyes shut.

A chill runs up her spine and her eyes snap open. She looks sideways and backwards, not seeing anyone suspicious, until she looks forward and onto the opposite platform.

A tall man, dressed in all black, was staring at her, almost piercing her with his look. She looks back, captivated, before a train gets in the way. She gets on immediately, trying to look at him through the glass, only to be disappointed.

The man disappeared.

Curious but also a little frightened, she resolved to forget about it. Five stops later, she gets off her stop and walks to her apartment. Caught in a junction, she wills the red light to green. Another chill runs up her spine and she looks to her right, stunned to see the same man from the station. She opens her mouth, ready to ask him something, when the light turns green and everyone starts walking. She walks ahead, eager to get to the other side, when she notices him gone again.

Startled, she walks around the neighbourhood, throwing him off her trail. She suddenly noticed that she arrived at the older part of town. Bright neon lights captivate her, almost hypnotizing her. Her face becomes devoid of emotion again, walking toward the place of neon lights.

The man in the black coat—the same man from the station and the junction—was at the gate. Her eyes become blank and she walks in, him following behind.

She never saw the sign outside the door—the sign that only someone like her could see.

Behold the haven of shapeshifters.