Chapter 2 – Discovering the Gift
Jason woke up drenched in sweat. The thin sunlight seeping through the small blinds made the room feel warmer than it should, but that didn't bother him. For the first time since he had arrived in this new body, he felt… right. Truly present. Not like the dizzy confusion of the alley or the lingering shock of those merged memories, but as if this body, this life, was genuinely his.
He stretched slowly, letting the muscles in his back and shoulders ease out the stiffness from sleeping awkwardly on the narrow mattress. There was a deep, satisfying sense of vitality in the motion, a reminder that this was real, his body, here, now. It was a small comfort, but one he savored.
His gaze fell on a gallon of water sitting on the table. He hadn't touched it yet. There was no refrigerator in this apartment, so it had been sitting at room temperature for days, but that didn't matter. He poured himself two generous cups of the warm liquid and drank slowly, savoring every swallow. The water felt surprisingly good, easing the dryness in his throat, washing away the lingering sweat on his skin, and quenching the thirst that had built overnight. Jason let out a long sigh, leaning back slightly, feeling the warmth of the water settle inside him. He had been so dehydrated from the sweating, yet this simple act of drinking, warm, unremarkable water, was oddly satisfying.
Finishing the second cup, Jason casually tossed the empty plastic into the sink. He didn't think much of it, expecting it to clatter somewhere near the drain. But to his surprise, it flew straight through the hole and landed perfectly in the basin. He froze, staring at his hand. Something about it, his aim, his timing, felt instinctive, precise.
His eyes drifted to the dartboard hanging crookedly on the wall. He hadn't touched it in months. On a whim, he pulled one dart from it and held it lightly between his fingers. Instinctively, he felt how much force he needed to apply, visualizing the trajectory. Then, without overthinking, he threw it. The dart hit the red center dead-on.
Jason's jaw dropped. He stepped closer, inspecting the dartboard carefully. The dart wasn't just near the center, it was right where he aimed. Perfect, as if guided. He stared at his hands in disbelief.
This… this isn't something I could do before.
He shook his head sharply, as if the motion could banish the thought. Old Jason had been clumsy at best. He'd never possessed any real skill, never in darts, never in anything that required precision. If he had, maybe he wouldn't be stuck in this tiny, empty apartment, scraping by just to make ends meet.
Yet now… every movement, every throw, was calculated perfectly. The thought that hit him made his heart race. This had to be more than natural talent. This… this had to be a gift, or some kind of cheat that came with this new body.
Jason grabbed the remaining darts. Five in total. One by one, he threw them. Each hit its intended target flawlessly, some on the red center, some just above or below, exactly where he had imagined. His heart pounded, a mix of fear, awe, and excitement coursing through him.
Then curiosity took over. He looked around the apartment, scanning for small objects he could test. A kitchen knife. A toothpick. A coin. Some keys to the apartment door. A broken tube that had been lying forgotten on the desk. All were fair game. He picked up each one, calculating force, angle, and trajectory with the same ease as the darts. One by one, he threw them. Some embedded into the dartboard, some bounced lightly but still landed where he intended. He even managed to stick the knife cleanly into the wood near the center of the board.
By the time he finished, the dartboard was cluttered with embedded objects, each one precisely placed as he had planned. Jason stepped back, breathing heavily, staring at the chaotic yet perfect array.
So this… this is my ability. My talent. My gift. Whatever it is… I can control it.
The realization sent a thrill through him, but it also brought practical concerns back into focus. Hunger came at him, reminding him why Jason had passed out in the alleyway. He looked around the apartment, empty. No food, no snacks, nothing beyond the water he had already consumed. His wallet had some money, but not enough for a proper meal.
Jason thought hard. He had to eat. But more importantly, he had to survive. And maybe… maybe he could use this Gift to do more than just survive.
An idea struck him, and his heart leapt. Trick shots. Precision throws. Street performances. Tourists and passersby paying money to watch a man hit impossible targets with perfect accuracy. And the best location for something like that? Venice Beach Boardwalk.
It was close enough, about a 25-minute walk. Crowds of tourists, performers, and locals. Plenty of space for a makeshift stage. Plenty of potential for tips. His mind raced as he imagined the setup: a small area roped off, a collection of objects, darts, coins, knives, scissors, even some of the broken tubes or keys, and himself, demonstrating feats no one would expect.
First, though, he had to take care of the hunger pangs. He drank more warm water to fill his stomach temporarily, easing the edge of the emptiness. Then, he gathered his materials: darts, knives, scissors, coins, broken tubes, miscellaneous small items, even the battered dartboard. He packed everything into a bag, feeling the weight and imagining the reactions he could get.
Jason looked at the apartment one last time. The place had been a small, quiet prison for so long, yet today it felt like the starting point of something entirely new. His hand went to the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder, and he took a deep breath.
With everything ready, he stepped outside, the sun hitting his face warmly. The streets of LA hummed around him, alive and indifferent, but Jason felt ready. Every step toward Venice Beach was filled with anticipation, curiosity, and a touch of nervous excitement. He had a plan, and for the first time in this new life, he felt like he could execute it.
As he walked, his mind ran through possibilities. How much money could he earn in a single afternoon? What objects could he throw to impress the crowd? What risks might he face? But most importantly, he felt in control, every movement calculated, every throw possible, and every outcome potentially perfect.
By the time he turned a corner and saw the glimmer of the ocean in the distance, Jason smiled. The salty breeze from the coast teased his senses, mixing with the sounds of tourists, street performers, and seagulls. Venice Beach awaited him, a place for his first real test.
He tightened the strap of his bag, adjusted his footing, and quickened his pace. Today, he would perform. Today, he would discover how far this new body, and this strange, extraordinary ability, could take him.
The boardwalk was only minutes away, but Jason's mind was already racing: sets of trick shots, coins embedding perfectly in cups, knives spinning toward targets… every move guided by instincts he had never known before. This was his chance to become far more than he had ever been.
For the first time, he felt the thrilling certainty of potential, a clear sense of control over his own destiny.
He was ready.