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Gassan, he was remembering, was not the Lebanese kid's real name, nor was he really Lebanese. He came from a far-flung place called The Star Realm, and that was why he was so strange compared to the rest of them. The Star Realm: no such place existed on Earth. Then again, none of them were from Earth, were they? He was remembering bit by bit of where he was from just as he felt something seize up in his body. His muscles were cramping at odd angles and his skin was burning up with a maddening itch all over like a sunburn trying to peel away. "And with the memory will come the mission." Gassan added, now a bit more familiar as someone who had come from a completely different squad to lend assistance.


Daniel remembered the squads, but didn't remember what they were for or why they were needed. Was he a brainwashed terrorist or assassin or something? He hoped not, as he liked his life in America a great deal and wanted nothing to do with any enemy entities. His mission. What was his mission? The burning on his skin turned into a fervent fever intensity as he lost all control and had to throw back the blankets just to scratch, well, everywhere. His fingernails were working frantically to scrape away this unbearable crawling sensation all over his flesh as he felt an odd pain in his back. On occassional touches back there, he could feel two nubs growing out of his skin almost like horns. It was pointed bone trying to escape as he ignored it over trying to get the mosquito-like bites to stop harassing him.


Little by little, the itch did stop, but each place where it ceased there were tufts of cushy pure black fur a few inches long. He noticed a similar much smaller nub growing out of the top of his buttocks like a horned tramp stamp, but ignored it as he tried to make sense of the shiny coat of hairs instead. He was turning into some kind of animal and didn't understand why, yet to all of his friends, this seemed quite normal and par for the course. In fact, as his memory of the previous life came back, he realized Gassan wasn't even supposed to be here except for emergencies as the recon coordinator. Recon. Who were they spying on? Earth.


That last bit of information floored him and he tried to make sense of it just as more changes spread over his body like accelerated wildfire in a dry wheat field. The fur was all over him and the itch was gone. Just as he calmed down, the blanket was thrown back over him and they all pressed in close with firm massages through the fabric against his body. The fur was just the beginning as he felt something pop out of his shoulders and elongate into poles of bone-shrouded flesh, growing in strength and bulk with a whispery lightness and lack of weight. Whatever was on his back was almost intangible and didn't feel like it was there, at all.


His hair, normally so neat and formal, was now growing to meet his collarbone and beyond. The words of wisdom, "It will grow back," couldn't possibly be anymore true. It was longer, but it didn't feel like his old hair anymore, instead a little more wiry and thick with a nice polish to it like it had been shampoo'd to oblivion. The thing growing out of his rear was the same story, as he could feel whatever it was lengthen through the backs of his thighs where there was a similar texture of shiny silky hairs.


Was that it? Were the changes over? No, he was still in the middle of them as his face seemed to elongate a bit, creating a strange accordian effect with his eyes that he wasn't sure he was seeing. He couldn't take it in fully, anyway, as the semi-dark state under the blankets was like a cave or burrow just allowing the tiniest peeks of light within. Still, he could feel just fine. It was a very long nose and his mouth was further away than normal. Would he come out of the covers looking like some kind of sheepdog?


After that was the last touch, as something funny happened to his hands and feet. They came together as his skin seemed to induce a hostile takeover of his fingers and toes like a creeping mold or tangle of vines. His fingernails themselves grew much longer and connected with each other, feeling very much like large teeth attached to his limbs, but the ones on his wrists, for as hard and bony as they seemed, were still unusually dextrous to leave any doubts of holding objects without grounds. Whatever these things on his arms were, they seemed made for walking on and holding most objects. After all of that, it was over as he didn't feel any other changes overtake him, although all those muscles and bones rearranging did leave him sore and stiff. Daniel wouldn't doubt that when he came out from under the covers that he would be looking at himself as a werewolf.


As much as he wanted to see what had happened to his body, his friends wouldn't let him. Instead, they encouraged him to sleep. As antsy and curious as Dan was to see the new look, they were right: after an ordeal like that, he needed the rest so his overextended body could recover from what had been done to it. Even so, It was still a very difficult rest as all kinds of sore spots would jar him awake at random moments with protest.

Written by FluffyPony on 02 June 2015

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