My name is Anon Agos now. Not a homosapien, but a compsognathus… or how a certain Albanian stock broker forum would declare it… A Compy, destined to never be above 5’0”. And I was being held by my new ‘mom’, my eyes silently filtering between her and my new ‘dad’, my new ‘parents’ giving me looks of pure joy and happiness. Unfortunately for them, the feeling is not entirely mutual, not because I was pissed or anything, but rather because I was still in complete shock at the fact that I just came out of a dinosaur woman’s vagina 30 minutes ago, not to even mention what they do to the… chord. How the fuck was this possible? I opened my mouth on instinct to speak, but only let out a distressed gurgle, stirring in the wrapped blankets. “Oh, I think he’s hungry, Joan.” My mom, now revealed to be Joan, smiled warmly, brushing away her long curly brown hair to reach a fold of her gown. A sudden feeling of dread overcame my entire being as I went still in the wrapped bundle, Joan opening up the hospital gown as my eyes widened. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! She then reached in. Wait, wait, wait, wait, hey. And began pulling something out. WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! It was a bottle of infant formula. I paused before I blankly stared up at the ceiling, sweet relief and repose washing over me. There were probably certain people on a certain Mongolian basket-weaving forum who’d fucking kill to be in my position and get a chance to… feed. Eugh. Joan gently placed the bottle at the end of my snout. At first, I was hesitant, fake teat in my maw before realizing that if I didn’t start drinking, then she was probably gonna think I preferred the other ‘method’. So steeling myself, I started suckling… like a baby of course, slowly draining the bottle as my eyes peered around. I didn’t recognize the hospital, but it was definitely in the USA if the doctors and my ‘parents’ indicated anything. I looked to the right wall before pausing upon seeing a distant calendar. I squinted. And then I almost choked on the formula upon seeing the year. 201M2001. I… I was back. Not exactly in a way I’d ever imagine, but more properly worded in the terrible synopsis/title of a shitty light novel to hook dumbass readers, probably along the lines of. ‘I got reincarnated as a Compy 18 years before all my agonizing mistakes!’ But this wasn’t some light novel. This was real life. What the fuck was I even going to do? Nothing. That’s what I decided on as I stared at the dark ceiling of the hospital, my thoughts occasionally broken up by another mewing newborn stirring in their crib. If there was even a single chance that they were alive, and that all my fuckups had been undone... then I was going to do absolutely nothing with this second chance. I’ll be, and remain, a nobody. But everybody gets to live, or better yet, live without having someone they love taken from them. Fang won’t- … Fang will be somebody without me. I’m content with that. I managed to stir myself into a better position, fresh tears beginning to fall from my eyes and onto my scaly cheeks. I attribute it to the downsides of being a baby… only to realize that I’m just lying to myself. It hurt, knowing what I had to do. But I’d do it. I’d do it a hundred times over for her, for everyone. All I had to do was never try. My 'parents' took me home from the hospital the next night. The car pulls into the right side of a cul-de-sac, the garage door opening up on a big two-story suburb house, showing off a clean and tidy garage, not like the hoarder mess that was my father’s. My dad, now I know to be Edward after he and Jane discussed on the way here, clambers out of the driver's side to open the door for my mother, unfastening her seatbelt as she rose up from her seat, bringing me inside as my dad turned on the lights. Holy Raptor Jesus. I won the birth lottery. The entire house is like a cross between pristine and homely, with marble kitchen countertops, glistening wood floors, decorative paintings, and the works… which made me think that there had to be a catch in this whole deal somewhere, knowing it was too good to be true. My eyes suspiciously scanned my dad first as we went upstairs, maybe he was a raging alcoholic… or would be at some point. And my mom, possibly a heroin addict behind closed doors, just ideas of how this lifestyle was going to balance itself out. Or they were both vegan, despite us being carnivores. … God, I hope not, anything but that. We arrive at a room at the end of the upstairs hallway, opening a door to a blue-painted bedroom. I quickly came to realize that this was meant to be my room, filled to the brim with toys and other kiddy devices, with my crib close to the door. I’m put inside, staring upward at the extravagant light projector with rocket ships and stars for me to play with. Not that I ever will, unfortunately for them, leaving me to wonder if they’ll ever know that some loser nobody has replaced the mind of their sweet baby boy. “He’s so quiet…” Joan noted, to which I wondered if I had to start bawling and making a scene to avoid any form of suspicion before pausing again, noticing that Edward was hugging Joan close, their snouts nuzzling against one another. “That must be from your side.” She said, snout grinning happily. And as they lovingly looked back down upon me… I somehow knew… They were good folk, not fucked up or twisted, maybe too hard-working, at least for Edward’s case now that I recognized the slight bags underneath his eyes, but that was hardly not a problem… not like my real parents… The ones who only gave the bare minimum of a shit about me. With that thought in mind, I yawned, realizing that the two compsognathuses had left the room, slightly shutting the door, one of those old ass baby monitors hung against my crib to remind me of the current year. And with nothing else to do but stare into the darkness, I quickly fell asleep. Days turn into weeks. And weeks turned into months. My any% glitchless speedrun of babyhood proceeds… The first step, crawling. As soon as I got the strength in my arms, I was moving, adjusting to my weird new dino body. Edward is gone for work on most days of the week, leaving Joan to take care of me. Though, I possibly gave her the easiest time of her life compared to other housewives. I haven’t bawled or cried and instead wait patiently to be fed, the only time I ever make a scene is when… Ugh. I look down at my diaper. … And to think there are people who are into this shit. Potty training at the 18-month milestone, asap. The only problem being is that Edward and Joan don’t let me go into any of the bathrooms, keeping the doors closed. Fair enough, babies are known to snack on liquid bleach cause they’re fucking stupid… but I can’t help but get frustrated at how helpless I feel, not… emotionally, but physically. Beat a crutch at least. I get to one side of the carpet before seeing some soft caveman ragdoll. “Oooh, what is that? What did Anon find for Mama.” Joan says in her kiddy voice, kneeling close by, having obviously placed the toy there to have me active and take advantage of my perceived lack of object permanence. I resist the urge to roll my eyes before remembering I was supposed to be their kid… And it… It made me feel guilty. Because I wasn’t, whatever hopes and dreams they’d have for me… I would have to ignore it. They’d be sad, disappointed, angry even, but it’d be better for everyone this way. I’d be a nobody in the background and just move through life without ever thinking about it. I pick up the toy, staring at it for a moment. It kind of reminded me of Principal Spears. … He was at the funeral. I put the toy back down, looking away before seeing the concerned look of my mom, prompting me to blink. Shit. Maybe for them, I’d put in a bit of effort at least. I don’t want to endorse them… but I don’t want to make them think I’m a burden either. So I take the caveman toy, and clenching my nubby claws, I toss him over, as far as I can. “BA!” I yell a warcry in the ancient tongue of baby speech. That seemed to get a pleasant reaction out of her, Joan’s face beaming. “Uh oh? Bad?” She then checked her watch, “Oop, time to feed you.” She then reached forward, my body tensing up, still not used to the prospect of just getting picked up and plopped down, which is exactly what happens as I end up seated in a high chair. She then moves off into the kitchen, opening the fridge to produce a sealed cup. The food situation also got an upgrade, going from formula to actual baby food… baby food meant for carnivores. And unironically… It actually tastes pretty good. Perks of growing up as a carnivore. Joan scoops up some of the gelatinous and soft meat stew into my opening snout as I eat on the high chair, making sure to not make a mess as she goes for another spoonful. About 12 months go by. And I'm able to finally walk somewhat… and speak. Not very much, and just simple words at the moment. It's like my maw hasn't caught up with my brain yet, so I don't push it… but I do remember the day I first spoke, and how accidental it was. "Carvers." It was the name of the literal brand of the baby food they fed me. I was just trying to pronounce it in my head out of boredom until the wide-eyed look my mother indicated that I accidentally said it out loud. Edward was home during all the excitement, alerted by Joan’s excited calls, having put down the newspaper he had been reading and going over to pick me up, exuberantly trying to get me to say their names. So I endorsed them with a typical “Da da.” and a typical “Ma ma.” That made their day, possibly their entire week. But this day, we had guests. I forgot what the name of the celebration even was, all I knew was that it was the last day of the warm season, and it was something dinosaurs held sacred. So I sat in the backyard beside a lawn chair atop the grass, given toys to occupy myself, the grill planted with various barbeque meats, and the giant portable pool set up with a few older children splashing inside with glee. My ‘grandparents’ were looking after me for the moment, sitting atop two lawn chairs. They were from Joan’s side as Edward's parents had already passed away. My ‘grandpa’, Mike, was a tall therizinosaur with long claws, and my ‘grandmother’ Melissa, was, of course, a compsognathus like my mother, their scales slightly wrinkled with age. “Can you say Grandada?” Mike asked with happy mirth. “Grandada.” “Oh! Oh!” Melissa is almost leaning forward off her chair, “Say Grandmama!” “Grandmama.” She gasps, claw over her heart as she leans her head against Mike. “Oooh, he’s so precious.” “Yeah, perceptive too, just like Ed is.” He leaned back in the chair, “Who knows, maybe little Anon might end up being as tall as me one day too.” Mike hoped as he sipped from a diet soda, somehow not pin-cushioned in his long claws. Melissa placed a claw over those scissor-like digits. “Oh hush you.” She smiles, “I never want him to grow, he’s just so adorable!” She then turned her head, “Did you see? Your brother Frank was here!” “... I’d prefer if he wasn't.” Mike grumbled, the toughened demeanor and narrowed eyes reminding me of someone... someone who was possibly hurt the most by me. I tune that out, instead wondering what that family drama was about before looking around the party and toward another therizinosaur who was currently helping himself to a bowl salad, his long claws somehow able to pick at it with a spoon. My ‘granduncle’, who I assumed to be, seemed to notice me staring, his black beak lighting up. “Heeey, you must be Joan’s lil’ tyke.” Frank spoke to me as if I was expected to understand. I did, of course… but obviously, I wasn’t gonna make that known, instead tilting my head with a blank expression. “Heh, she really did make the cutest kid, a real central scrutinizer.” Frank said with a smile. “I know!” My grandmother exclaims in agreement. “Did you bring your guitar, Frank?” “Nah, not this time. Left it in Joe’s Garage.” Mike let out something between a grunt and a sigh of relief, Frank already moving back to the table to probably grab more salad as Melissa turned her head to him, an angry pout on her aged scales. “What was that?” “What was what?” “Can’t you just be happy for your brother?” “...” My grandfather pauses before defending himself. “They once called the cops 'cause he was playing too lo-!” “Haha!” The loud laugh broke up their argument, seeing my dad greet another arriving couple… two baryonyxes, the husband interlinked arms with my dad like a viking handshake. Meanwhile, the wife stood by the sidelines, hugging my mom and separating, the baryonyx showing her own baby in her arms. “Oh my goodness, is that the Halfords?” My grandmother asked before gasping. “And they have a baby!” “That Halford kid saved Ed from that hellhole down in Panagea…" Mike took another sip of his can. "If anyone deserves a kid of their own, it's definitely them.” … My dad was a soldier? Really could have fooled me with his scrawny build and round glasses. My parents and the Halfords approach, greeting my grandparents as I watch the exchange, showing off their small bundle to them first as they both let out a collective ‘Aww’. “Show her to Anon.” I blink as they approach, Mrs. Halford smiling before kneeling down to show me. Two gold-grey eyes blankly look back at me, stubby snout closed, the tiny baryonyx beginning to squint her eyes in some form of infant suspicion. Okay. I couldn’t help it. “Aww.” I blurt out, the parents pausing before bursting out into laughter, perhaps thinking I was mimicking my grandparents, the other baby peering away from me and looking at the source of noise with annoyance. Mrs. Halford stood back up, as my dad asked a question. “What’s her name?” Mr. Halford and Mrs. Halford smiled, the sides of their snouts upturned. “Olivia.” My dad smiles, “That’s a beautiful name, and I remember on the phone yesterday…-” He tilted his head, “Are you sure?” “Yes, we are.” They looked to my parents, “Olivia is getting baptized next week. We’d like you two to be there and become her godparents.” My grandmother gasped before standing up to celebrate, my grandfather blinking in surprise as he sat shocked atop his chair, having punctured the soda can with his claws. Some of the guests turned their heads to the commotion before coming over to congratulate my parents. All the while, I could see Olivia… her grey eyes still silently looking down at me, snout closed, giving me that same squinting look. I resisted the urge to shrug, turning around to hang about on the grass. From my limited experience, being a godparent didn’t mean much, just some glorified title of declaring someone to be your absolute best bud. I doubt anything was going to come about regarding that. [NOTES] Was completely caught off guard by the amount of support Nothing to Something has already gotten. Here's the next chapter!