FSE

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“Ms. Bradshaw."

“Yes, that's me."

“I'll take you the rest of the way."

Molly let the nurse lead her from the clinic foyer into the heart of the facility. Relatively few people were around: some staff, some visitors, what she reckoned were a patient or two. Nothing that suggested anything greater than routine health checks. Though she knew what she was here for. The Theodoros Gene Therapy Clinic was recommended to her by Vi, evidently due to its discrete service. She watched the nurse turn a corner, following suit and entering a long corridor that marked the last mile of her humanity.

“This way, keep up," the nurse said, cheerful smiles all 'round.

Molly felt her body slow, her legs stiffen, as she neared the double-door at the end of the corridor. Her body knew something was up. Knew she was about to put it through the ringer. A part of her didn't want to change; an old corner of her subconscious, roused in defence of her biological nature. An overwhelming sense of...of...cold came over her. Goosebumps raised themselves, scoring her skin with miniature mountains of anticipation, and fear.

Keep it together Molls. You can do this.

“Through here," the nurse beamed, opened the door for her. A sweeping gesture led Molly into the room, nurse vanishing once her duty had been done. Now alone, Molly looked around. Curtain, desk, chairs, bed. Everything a doctor's office might need. She sat and waited.

Moments later, someone passed by her room. She heard the footsteps and caught a glimpse of a white blur in the square windows on each half of the double-door. When it passed her completely, she relaxed. Not her turn yet.

Two more times this happened. Strangers walking by. All staff. All human. She wondered if this clinic was tending to anyone else, or was it just her? Lucky me.

When the long-awaited knock finally came, she jumped. Standing bolt upright, she planned to greet her consultant keenly, and calmly.

That last all of five seconds once she got a good look at him.

“Eeeee!"

Molly slammed her hands over her mouth, face red with embarrassment. Her stomach turned, insides broiling with the shame of her outburst.

The doctor. Her doctor, simply grinned. His features new to her...

“I see you're excited to begin."

He matched her height, but that was the only similarity between them. A feline face, spotted fur that managed to flow over his shirt collar, lean build (whose coat did not leave to the imagination, with how it hugged his figure), and boots designed for digitigrade feet. Other than that he was perfectly normal, just a cheetah stuffed into a lab-coat.

You know...normal...

“I'll start over, shall I? Welcome Ms. Bradshaw, I'm Dr. Synyen."

“Oh, hi!" Molly struck out with her arm, awaiting a handshake. The hybrid doctor reached out and took her hand with his paw. She felt his rough pads, wiry fur, and a hint of hidden claws.

“First time meeting one of us?"

“No, I met a horse before. But—"

“But it's still new. The rush you feel when you see one in the flesh." He smirked. “Or fur!"

Molly nodded.

“Hmm...yes. I bet the butterflies have made themselves at home in your stomach, Ms. Bradshaw, judging by the scents I'm picking up. No intrusion, of course, but my sense of smell is sharper than it used to be." He tapped his nose for emphasis.

“I didn't take it as offensive," she said, “but yeah, it's still new to me."

“I was the same. Before my change. It's fun when you're on the opposite side now."

“I'll have to take your word for it, Dr. Sy-suh..."

“Synyen."

“Dr. Synyen."

He moved to his desk. “Now Ms. Bradshaw, the nurse has filled me in on the details, and you've already submitted the required documentation, so I see no need to tarry. Sit down please."

Molly sat back down, the surprise fading fast. Thinking about Vi's words, Vi's encouragement, she steeled her resolve and put her feelings of doubt aside. I'll be one of them soon. Like Rylan. Like Dr. Synyen. Like so many others these days...

“Worried?"

She met his gaze. “I..."

“Because that's expected. But you've made your choice, correct? Any lingering doubts I should be aware of before proceeding?"

“No, I think I'm fine."

He chuckled. “I don't do my work based on 'I think', Ms. Bradshaw. You need to be willing to commit to radical changes. Your body. Your mind. Are you willing?"

Molly paused. She wanted it. Her new job needed it. And the exorbitant amount of money Vi was promising did tilt the scales in favour of saying yes. She wasn't in a bad place financially, not like other people. But she could do with a renewal. A new body. Healthier body...

What's the worst that could happen? The process is only irreversible!

She stated firmly to the doctor that she was ready. Ready for anything.

“Excellent! And if you want further consolation, the best salesmen use their own products. And bully for you that 'my' products happen to work wonders!" Another chuckle comforted her as Dr. Synyen dug through his medical stores.

“So, you've chosen your species, correct?"

“Yes."

“I can't sway that decision at all, can I? Team Cheetah's not going to see growth this quarter, hmm?"

Molly smiled. “No...I've my reasons for choosing." She remembered Vi briefing her. What the job would suit best. What her friend wanted out of her. Molly picked a species that would tick every box, as well as feel right for her. Soft, slender, elegant, beautiful — the adjectives just spilled over when she imagined her new self.

She strode, out from the forests of ancestral memory. Her fur tawny and cream. Long strides. Graceful. Filling her with joy. A dream soon to become reality.

“Well, given that the paperwork's in order and you're ready to go. I say we bring you to theatre!"

* * *

Molly lay on a bed in a small operating theatre. She wore a surgical gown specially designed to accommodate her new proportions whilst also covering a human's body. The room dimmed as Dr. Synyen and several assistants busied themselves with preparations. She let her head rest against the cushion and breathed slowly.

Dr. Synyen brought over an arm-strap, connected to an IV line. Where the tubing met the strap a round digital display flickered with numbers. “Here we go. This, Ms. Bradshaw, is the secret sauce. A Grayson-Trimble Applicator. This device will regulate the gene therapy by providing the correct dosage of viral reagents to transform you, configured for the species you chose. Understand so far?"

“Yeah. Magic armband makes me grow fur."

“Ah, yes, that's the sedatives talking. I'm sure you meant something far more dignified. Poetic even." He whispered orders to his attendants. Lights activated, bathing her in a sea of purest white. Leaning over her, he spoke, his silhouette a dark cut-out 'mid the godly rays: “okay Ms. Bradshaw. We're getting the last couple of stages prepared. You've read the guide, and I've no doubt you already know this, but I'm going to repeat it so it sticks. Okay?"

“Mmm."

“Okay. We're going to administer a special drug that will modify your DNA. This means that while under, you'll experience things that are all in your head. This won't happen at first, as the changes filter through your muscles, organs, and skeleton; it'll feel like a very deep sleep. But once your brain begins to reshape itself, alter its neural pathways, you'll dream. It's usually a good dream, but just in case it isn't remember that it's not real! You might feel pain, or seem uncomfortable, but once you wake up it'll all go away."

He adjusted the straps on her arm, and pressed a button to insert the IV. A sharp pinch caught Molly by surprise as the needle entered her. “That should be the only real pain of the experience," he said, his voice soothing as the sedatives wrapped their fingers around her vulnerable body.

“Go to sleep, Ms. Bradshaw. We'll be with you the whole time."

Molly closed her eyes.

* * *

The long, black absence of anything roared as time began for her mind to change. The void broke apart, its space filling with colour, and images, and sound. Nothing became something.

Time to begin again. Live again.

Her voice echoed, then faded, leaving her floating in a swirling sea of vibrancy. Her body simmered. Beneath the weight of sedatives she felt her form shift...mutate...evolve...

Bones breaking. Tendons snapping and gluing themselves together again. Flesh melting, and reshaping. All without pain. No agony cursed her newborn hide. Yes, hide...the sprouting of fibres arose like pin-pricks across her. A coat of fur warmed her; she sensed the roughness of unkempt hairs rustle 'neath the surgical gown. Her brain picked up the signals emanating from every corner of her body — her subconscious subsumed into the transforming mass. Limbs growing. Snout forming. And hooves — small, slender shapes — emerging as her lengthened figure settled. Her skull rattled as it changed, and two bumps on her head spread to form the nubs of small antlers. Her jaw cracked, without hurt, and moved her to dive deeper into the dream.

Just like Dr. Synyen said, Molly avoided the sensation of pain. Lucky her, for she reckoned others hadn't experienced as nice a time transforming. As the serum surged through her, rewriting her very essence, her mind grew calm. Comforted by the changes occurring all around, and the softness of her dream-state, she let herself drift, sinking into a stupor.

The colours, bright and shining yet easy on the eyes, filled her. Emotions soothed as the light show blazed and buoyed her spirit. She could see pictures. Images of her what she'd become, dredged from the depths of her dormant consciousness. Tall. Striking. The images became clearer. She felt renewed. Healthy. The soreness in her left knee was gone, the cramps she got from bad posture over the years vanished, and the multitude of nagging aches of aging retreated. Those were all facts of her old body, not this one. Not this beautiful form. A dancer's build, reminiscent of her former youth. Slender, svelte, elegant. Words conjured to describe her perfection. Drunk on the changes raging through her once-human form, she surrendered to an unassailable future.

She knew exactly what she was getting. From the brochures and websites Vi had helped her research, a fine choice emerged. Her species walked the world, from forest to sun-scorched plains.

Four legs begat two.

Modern science begat her.

Molly Bradshaw. Hybrid.