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"Alright, Lycan, pull yourself together. You just-" In mid-sentence his voice cut short and his fingers slapped against his throat in automatic response. Had he just squeaked?
"What the-?" There it was again. For a split instant, his voice fluctuated upwards in pitch as if a hand was squeezing on his larynx.

 

Why do I sound like a bloody chew toy? Lycan thought, hobbling back to the bathroom. The discomfort in his rump was increasing now into an uncomfortable pressure. Was something hitting the back of his leg as he walked?

 

Pressing himself up into the bathroom mirror, the man lifted his chin to examine his throat.
What is happening now?

 

Fine, dark, and velvety fur had begun to grow on his neck and was slowly making its way down Lycan's torso based on the fiery sensation. As his fingers trailed down the line of his throat, they felt something quite peculiar. It felt as though something was missing. His Adam's apple was visibly shrinking beneath the tips of his fingers.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me?

 

At this juncture, Lycan Gruff's mind was reeling, pitching and tumbling away from his senses as it was overwhelmed by the title wave of transformation trauma his frail human body was being made to endure. And all because of a single simple wish.
I do wonder, he thought as he noticed his nails again in the looking glass, if this will all be worth it.

 

Lowering his hands to look at them in the pale light of his bathroom bulbs the writer took notice of how his nails appeared to be changing. The dark, slick hair had entirely consumed his hands, and the nails sitting at the tips of each one had been altered as well. Thin, white, and rather pristinely kept fingernails now appeared dark, as if somehow stained. They had also become thicker, narrowed, and longer, turning into what appeared to be claws. As he flexed his fingers, Lycan noticed something odd as well. A peculiar tingling had erupted between each digit, and as he stared down at them, the writer could see a thin membrane of skin forming in the once empty space between his phalanges. There were also rough patches of skin forming where he once possessed a smooth palm.

 

The world was beginning to pitch and toss like a ship caught in a squall. Stumbling like a drunk out of a pub, Lycan made his way back out into his common area. Claws gripped at his shirt and shrugged it off entirely. Somehow he also managed to undo his trousers, praying that taking off the denim would help to relive the pressure that was still escalating, originating from just above the curvature of his buttocks.

 

Now in naught but his knickers the man felt his body move forward, every movement an agony. Fur was spreading, each new growth setting a fire in his skin. Beneath layers of muscles, Lycan's bones were still clattering about. It had intensified so that the man's furry limbs had begun to visibly quake. Then suddenly-

 

Snap!

 

A sharp sound like a firecracker shot through the flat, and with an unusually high pitched exclamation, the transforming man collapsed onto the floor. It felt as though a bone in his leg had just been broken. A crunch came from his hand, as if it had been struck with a hammer, and the man withdrew it into himself. Within moments there were more sounds from beneath his skin. The entire foundation of his body was shifting, moving about into and under itself, as though Lycan's skeletal structure was made of tectonic plates.

 

As well, his skin was beginning to bubble, or so it appeared that way as he noticed his arms. There was distinct movement occurring as he started at his limbs. The irritation of the hair growth had engulfed his entire body, from the top of his head to the soles of his now furry feet. Thumping could be heard behind him. As the pain of his altering bones caused him to contort he caught sight of something hanging between his legs just as electric pulses started to strike at his loins.

 

Claws dug into the wood floor as he continued to writhe. Pain was everywhere, threaded into every fiber of his transforming being. He could feel every alteration being formed, every piece of his genetic code being rewritten and his body adjusting to accommodate. It escalated so greatly that the man opened his mouth to scream out in pain, but instead of his voice, the sound of a woman's cries filled his ears.

 

Somewhere outside the torrential churning in his mind, Lycan Gruff heard the sound of his mobile phone ringing. But his mind had let go, and with a sigh he faded into unconsciousness.



Written by palantean-writer on 23 February 2016


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