FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was late afternoon when the monster walked (or stumbled) into the dark cave, the heavy footfalls of her broad hooves sinking into the warm sand. The beast dragged her long tail behind her lethargically like the mantle of some long-forgotten empress, her deep breaths almost labored as she approached the lone figure before her. Emerald blades the shape of scimitars gleamed with fluorescent light, reflecting the light of a sun that was never meant to shine upon such a monstrous amalgam, a living contradiction in every sense of the word. Drool dripped from the creature's mouth, mixed with the salt water and the blood of her most recent kill. Eyes like the fires of perdition shone through the evening gloom, tearing apart the foggy air with a gaze that its victims could run from but never fully escape.

Against the looming horror stood a solitary man, alone against the monster in the tradition of Perseus and Odysseus before him. His frame was thin, arms bereft of the strength found in the bodies of his predecessors, more accustomed to typing emails and peer reviewing biological findings than swinging a sword or nocking a bow. And yet, from his lips emerged a call to action that would rival that of Heracles upon facing the Nemean lion, Gilgamesh charging towards the Bull of Heaven, or Thor barreling down the throat of Jormungand:

“Sweetheart, I have a doctorate in evolutionary biology and I can't figure out how to get this fucking Kindle to work."

The man lifted his eyes and beheld Yeats's rough beast, her hour come round at last. Four pairs of arachnid-feline eyes stared back at him from where they encircled a roughly crocodilian head, its long snout covered with slimy yellow fur. Its torso seemed to belong to a large cat, aside from the bovine udders taking the place of its topmost set of breasts, with two additional rows just below, these appearing more or less human in shape, albeit covered in shiny fur. Three pairs of appendages protruded from either side of the creature, the topmost pantherine as well, the bottom insectile in origin, the middle pair the long tentacles of a cephalopod. Her lower half was equine, the strong legs of a clydesdale attempting to support the creature's strange body on large hooves the size of dinner plates. Between her legs dangled two sets of organs one would expect to find on the male of the species, juxtaposed sharply from the rest of her female appearance, and hiding the folds of the fairer sex nestled between her equine legs. The majority of the creature's bulk, however, leaned against the massive 30 foot long serpentine tail that slithered through the warm sand behind her, serving to stabilize the monster as well as provide her main mode of locomotion. Three pairs of large avian wings twitched slightly in the breeze, attempting to fold themselves against her back, though at the moment they seemed to serve merely as an outlet for the creature to fidget. There was a nervousness in her eight golden eyes, a curiously human expression on an utterly inhuman face.

The man took notice of the expression immediately, dropping the confounding plastic library onto the sand as he quickly stepped towards the monster.

The monster that was his wife.

“Candy?! What …" Mark stopped in his tracks, hesitant to approach her. Not because of the fearsome visage of the beast, but because he was afraid to startle her any further. “Baby, what happened?!"

The chimera's eyes regarded Mark distantly, as if she were only beginning to realize his presence. “Not my name," she mumbled, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly as a long salamander's tongue licked her surprisingly dry lips. “Not my name," she repeated, eyes distant as if staring into some recent trauma.

“Candice. Sorry." Mark reached for one of her paws, attempting to drag her closer. “What the fuck happened? You look like you've seen a--"

“Shark," she answered. “I-I look like I've seen a … shark." Finally her eyes focused on her husband as she mumbled, “I saw a shark. I-I got bit by a shark."

“Oh baby, holy shit, honey." Mark attempted to draw his wife into a hug, although he would've had an easier time toppling a brick wall with a plastic spoon. Slowly, Candice leaned into his human arms, her perpetually slimy torso squishing against his Led Zeppelin t-shirt, which could only squelch in resigned acceptance as she sighed in comfort as the familiar gesture calmed her. “Are you okay?" The human man chuckled slightly in embarrasment. “Wait … of course you're okay. Stupid question." Along with her strange form, an amalgamation of a dozen different species, her mutation had enabled her with a host of abilities owing to the various animals that made up her body. Flight, obviously, given her trio of massive avian wings. The ability to breathe underwater due to the salamander DNA that unfortunately brought along with it an abundance of clear mucus that enveloped her at all times. But perhaps the most miraculous boon given to her by her terrible, wholly unwanted changes was the ability to regenerate wounds almost immediately. A shark's teeth would have an easier time injuring the water it swam through than hurting Mark's wife in any real way. “Where did it bite you?"

Candice's only answer was to lift one of her tentacles, waving it in the air like the tail of a dog seeking as much sympathy as it could find.

Mark brought the slimy appendage to his lips and gingerly placed a kiss on its tip. He felt silly doing it, an ordinary human attempting to reassure a massive hypercarnivore that everything was going to be okay. Still, the gesture was a welcome one, based on the small smile that slowly threatened to appear across Candice's wide maw.

“Was it a big one? Was it a big shark?"

With her other tentacle, Candice reached out to touch a palm tree twenty feet away as if to illustrate the size of the animal. “It was huge! A fucking great white! Like my teeth!" Candice opened her maw widely, gesturing towards several rows of three-inch-long teeth contained therein as if to illustrate to her partner that she did, indeed, have shark teeth. “Lok mah teef," she exclaimed with her mouth open.

He tried not to laugh. He was, in fact, very aware that his partner was in the possession of shark's teeth. Don't let her see you smile, he thought. Not the time for that, no matter how ridiculous the situation. “Oh my God, baby. Holy fuck. Did you … Did you drive it away?"

Candice shook her head slowly.

“D-Did you … bite it back?"

Candice shook her head slowly.

“Did you have to fight it off?"

Candice shook her head slowly, although this time her mantis scythes twitched slightly as if to draw attention to themselves.

“You sliced it up?" He glanced towards the scythes.

Candice nodded. Also slowly.

“Well, I mean … It's gone now then." Mark squinted in confusion, trying his absolute best not to smile. “What's got you so rattled?"

Four sets of eyelids blinked sequentially as if to signal that Candice had now fully joined the conversation. “Mark! It was a fucking shark!" For a moment she seemed like she was talking to a child. “I'm just trying to catch dinner for Christsakes. Minding my own fucking business, and … shark! Who the fuck decided there should be sharks in the ocean?! In the OCEAN?!"

At this, the floodgates suddenly burst and Mark lost his composure entirely. Laughter escaped his lips like the eruption of Pompeii, and he had no doubt the gesture was just as deadly. He pressed his lips together for a moment in a last ditch attempt to keep a straight face, but the battle was already lost. Achilles had stumbled. Gilgamesh had succumbed to his fatal hubris. Casey Jones had struck out. Hysterical laughter spilled from his very core, an avalanche that once started was now impossible to stop.

The chimera responded with a pitiful high-pitched mewl that gradually shifted into a low moo. Her ears rotated downward. “You're laughing?! I got bit by a shark and you're laughing?! You're laughing at my Carcharodon-related trauma?!"

“Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole." Mark hugged his wife, his head slipping between her udders slightly. She had always been embarrassed at the size of the bovine mammaries--along with everything else about her strange body--but he routinely argued that they made for excellent snuggles. He was relieved when he felt her torso start to shake as she too began to laugh. “I love you?" he offered.

“You'd fucking better!" She made a very human sound of indignation, closing her four pairs of eyes and pointing her large snout in the air in a sign of distaste. “Next time YOU can go catch dinner and fight off a great-fucking-white with YOUR mantis arms." Her eyes opened just a bit as she grinned, displaying row upon row of the same teeth she seemed to have been recently startled by. “Ohhhh wait. That's right! You don't have mantis arms."

“I don't have mantis arms," he agreed.

“You don't have mantis arms," she concluded. “What's that old saying? The one about people that don't have mantis arms?" A long tentacle waved in the air in a circular motion, as if its owner were struggling to remember an ancient piece of sage wisdom.

Mark squeezed her tighter. His wife was an affront to the natural world, his life was one long string of fleeing from absurdity straight into the arms of insanity … and he couldn't be happier. Every day was filled with bouts of ridiculous joy only experienced by the very happy or the very insane. He wouldn't trade this life for a better one, because there was no better one. Despite everything, this was the happiest two people were allowed to be. “I forget, sweetheart. What do they say about people that don't have mantis arms?"

“That they should shut the fuck up about giant sharks …" She smiled warmly. There was never any doubt that they weren't having an actual argument, but she always went out of her way to make sure he knew that. “Oh, and that you have to kiss me. If you're currently present and don't have mantis arms then you have to kiss me. That's part of the saying, too."

“Is that right?"

“I don't make the rules."

A massive serpentine tail slid closer to Mark's sandaled feet. On reflex, he placed one foot and then the other on the scaly appendage before being lifted into the air slightly, just enough to bring him to eye level with the woman he loved so that he could press his lips to hers. “I love you."

“Love you too," she reluctantly muttered. “Can we go inland tomorrow? Maybe back to the Everglades? Somewhere I can hunt for dinner without being attacked by sharks? I'm done with the ocean for a while."

“Of course we can. You're the boss." The comment had no resentment behind it. He would happily follow her wherever she wanted to go, and she knew it. “Sorry about the Kindle. I can't even find where the batteries go."

The chimera chuckled. Mark wasn't sure why. “You're not even a dad, and you've got the dad jokes down to a science."

Mark realized that perhaps the hundred-dollar gadget didn't run on AAA-batteries.

Candice shrugged her large, furry shoulders. “Eh, fuck it. Electronic devices are a fad. Paper books for life."

“But you were looking forward to it!" It was practically all she had talked about lately. It was hard for Candice to manipulate an object as small as a book, and the abundance of slime certainly didn't help keep the pages dry. “Josie said she put like a trillion books on here. I wouldn't have to keep reading you the same copy of Les Miserables every night."

“I don't mind, it's my favorite book." She smiled wickedly, displaying the same type of gnashing teeth she had been so frightened of just a moment ago. “Besides, I like your Jean Valjean voice. It's sexy." She lowered her tail enough for Mark to safely step off. “But first, milking time. That's the perfect way to make you pay for making fun of my harrowing experience."

“Oh, no, please no." His tone was flat as he cracked his knuckles. “Woe is me, being cursed to play with your tits for the next half hour. What a cruel, cruel fate. Alas and alack!"

Candice leaned close to his ear, a seductive smile on her lips before she loudly bellowed “MOO!" in a noticeably non-bovine voice. “What's that? MOO! Sorry, am I being too loud? MOOOO! Curse these uncontrollably loud cow noises I'm going to be making in your FUCKING ears for the next 30 minutes. MOOOO!"

---

Leidy couldn't remember how long she had lain on the floor of her cell. The lack of sunlight made it difficult to measure the passage of time. For a while she had tried to measure the days by how many times she had fallen asleep, but this was far from an accurate estimate. For one thing, she seemed to do nothing but sleep. The choice of daily activities was fairly slim. She could make the journey from one end of the cell to the other, turn around, and repeat the motion ad nauseam. She had even thought up silly little games to keep her mind occupied. “How many steps from one side to the other?" “How far can I walk on my tiptoes?" “How many hops can I make on one foot before losing my balance?" The answers were “nine," “not very far," and “no more than two," respectively.

Years ago, she had read an article detailing how soldiers in captivity would invent math problems to keep their minds occupied during long days of isolation. But Leidy barely remembered anything from high school algebra other than the pythagorean theorem--and even then only the name. High school had once again established itself as her lifelong antagonist even long after she'd graduated. She had run out of songs to sing several “days" ago, and felt more than a little shame that the only ones she could reliably remember were late 90s pop hits.

These “days" Leidy spent most of her waking hours engaged in the rigorous pastime of staring at the ceiling, trying not to smell herself, and talking to the incorporeal demonic figure hovering above her that she was reasonably sure wasn't real.

That and screaming to be set free. She'd gotten tired of crying two “weeks" ago, but screaming was still very much one of her favorite activities.

Her time in captivity had not been good to her. She had lost quite a bit of weight, although she obviously had no way of telling just how much. Leidy had never been a particularly chubby person, but she was fairly sure she shouldn't be able to count each of her ribs through her pallid skin at a casual glance. What had to be months enduring the lack of a shower had rendered her utterly filthy, her blonde hair shaggy and long like some feral animal. She'd taken to chewing her fingernails, back when she had fingernails. An ever-present stench hovered over her like a warm blanket, and she would kill for a warm shower and a shave.

Well, no. No, she wouldn't. She didn't actually want to hurt anyone. She just wanted to go home. And pet her cat. And take a nap.

At least the food wasn't so bad. The soldiers--she assumed they were soldiers--came twice a day and to enrich her with a paper tray filled with an assortment of goodies. The Salisbury steak reminded her of the horrid, semi-solid slop they had served at her grade school. She was more than a little ashamed that the familiar smell and taste had at first caused her to weep for her lost childhood, although now it brought up only happy memories of those bygone times when she had seen sunlight. The green beans were a favorite of hers, although the lack of salt--and silverware--lessened her enjoyment of them somewhat. The jello was a downright treat. However, after she had begun vomiting several times a day, her meals had been altered to consist of plain chicken, fish, and beef, prepared without any sort of added flavor whatsoever. The captive woman was surprised that her body hadn't been screaming for additional nutrients. The human body wasn't meant to survive on meat alone, although she supposed the word “human" no longer really applied to her. The changes had thrown that into question several “weeks" ago.

Oh! And there was her bucket. The one she shat in. It was her most prized possession. And her only possession. She would've cuddled it as she fell asleep on the cold concrete, if it wasn't for the fact that it was the bucket that she shat in. There was an empty cell next to hers that had its own bucket. Imagine! They'd just left a perfectly good bucket with no one to shit in it. If she could somehow break into the adjacent holding area she'd have two buckets. Two. Buckets.

“Who could ask for anything more?" she sang along to some forgotten cartoon melody. Laughter rang throughout her cell, startling Leidy out of her wits, or at least what passed for her wits these “days." It took her a moment to realize the laughter was coming from herself and not the ceiling-demon, deciding to drag her away to hell at last. This knowledge only caused her to double down on giggling, cackling, then giggling again in borderline hysteria at nothing whatsoever.

The door to the World-Outside her cell opened for a brief moment. Leidy backed into the corner of the room, holding her hands palm-up and visible as she had been instructed to do long ago. The door opening meant food, and food would only be provided if she were cooperative and helpful. She had tried to attack one of her captors once, but this had only earned her a rough shove back into the corner. Escape was pointless anyway. Even if she managed to get out of her cell, the door to the World-Outside was always locked immediately after the soldiers entered. Getting past the guard just meant running into a locked steel door before she would be swiftly and roughly returned back to her cage.

At least she had her bucket.

Leidy found it somewhat odd that she was being provided with food already. It seemed only a few hours could've passed after “breakfast". Then again, she had spent a good deal of time laughing at the ceiling and trying to remember what the fuck a pythagorean was, so maybe she'd just lost track of time. It was an easy thing to lose. Her eyes opened wide as she saw two masked guards delivering her something entirely unexpected. They weren't giving Leidy her next round of bland chicken.

They were giving her a roommate.

“I will fuckstart your entire universe, you barely sapient pieces of dried wombat cum!"

A very loud roommate.

The woman was short, her naked brown skin and black hair seemingly clean as if she hadn't been living in a cage since who-knows-how-long-Leidy-had-been-living-in-a-cage. If Leidy had to guess, she was probably in her early thirties and cute in the way a pitbull could be. She seemed a new arrival to whatever facility Leidy had found herself trapped in after she had signed her name at the bottom of a piece of paper that had promised her a better life. Leidy had always been a weak person, both in physicality as well as emotionally. She made up what she lacked in self esteem with self loathing. It wasn't a particularly good trade. Leidy wondered if her new neighbor had found herself in this dismal fate in the same way. “Timid" was not a word she'd use to describe the stranger as she repeatedly attempted to introduce her bare foot to the groin of the person carrying her. Leidy would have to remember to ask her when the new arrival stopped her symphony of profanity.

“You fucking hear me?! I will put you in the ground!" the naked woman roared. “I will eat your fucking children! Old women will tell stories to their grandchildren about the legend of me fucking up your entire being on a microscopic scale! The little bastards will have nightmares about what I'm going to do to you! They'll make a fucking movie about it! You'll be played by Alec Fucking Baldwin! They will need an actor of his caliber to capture the sheer horror I will visit upon you! That shit will be rated X for extreme depictions of me tearing your assholes out through your …"

The small woman's eyes went wide as she beheld Leidy. There was a strange confusion in her deep brown eyes, and not one that immediately made sense. She didn't seem confused by the fact that Leidy looked like she had been living in a cage for an indeterminable length of time. Or that Leidy's changes had rendered her something less than human.

She seemed surprised that Leidy was here at all. As if she hadn't been expecting another person to be locked up with her. Leidy could barely make out the words “the" and “fuck" arranged in a vaguely interrogative manner as the foul-mouthed young lady was tossed into her cell. She landed roughly against the concrete floor, though thankfully hadn't bumped her head. Almost immediately she was back on her feet, throwing herself into the cell door moments after it was slammed shut by a rather tired-sounding guard who muttered a simple “Jesus Christ" as he and his companion turned to leave.

“The fuck are you going?! The FUCK are you GOING?!" She was shaking the steel bars so violently that for a moment Leidy believed she may actually be able to break them. “You think I'm done with you? I haven't even gotten to the part where I describe how I'm going to shove my foot up your dickholes and--"

The door to the World-Outside shut with an indifferent “clunk" and the newcomer's frenzied diatribe was reduced to a simple frustrated scream of indignant rage. The woman closed her brown eyes, hands balled into fists that pounded absentmindedly against her bare legs. It was likely she was trying to calm herself, though this seemed like this action was more of a process than a single event. She seemed to be counting down from ten, probably a practiced motion of getting her rage under control. Leidy politely waited, resisting the peculiar urge to join in on the counting. Counting was fun.

When she was finished, the newcomer turned and gave a surprisingly pleasant smile to Leidy. Oh, thank God! She was friendly! Or at least pretending to be. Either was fine at this point.

Okay, Leidy told herself. Don't fuck this up. First impressions are the most important. This person might be your neighbor for the next decade, so make sure you don't say anything weird. You're great at being weird, so just … don't do that this time. Okay? Nothing weird, or stupid, or weird, or disgusting, or weird, or …

“You're so lucky, you have a new bucket," Leidy exclaimed excitedly. “Y-You want to trade buckets?"

God damn it.

The loud-mouthed lady seemed less confused by the awkward greeting than anyone used to the universe making sense should have been. “I'm … guessing you've been here a while." She took a few steps closer to the hard bars that separated their connected cells. For a moment it seemed as if she was about to extend her hand through the bars, offering a friendly handshake as if they were meeting at a church luncheon instead of this steel hell.

Leidy limped closer, her gait unsteady. It was becoming harder to walk upright after the changes. She resisted the urge to shove her own arms through the bars and ask for a hug. For one, Leidy was positively filthy while her new roommate appeared almost angelic. She likely came from a world where soap and running water were still present in something other than fitful daydreams. For another, she couldn't be entirely sure the woman wasn't hostile. There was absolutely no reason for her to attack Leidy--she certainly didn't own anything at present that the woman would need to steal. But people thrown into prison by shady quasi-military organizations usually didn't operate entirely on logic. Or so Leidy assumed. She didn't know of any other quasi-military organizations with a penchant for transforming people into monsters. Especially not those with a penchant for transforming people into monsters.

Of course, the possibility of violence on her part wouldn't begin to cross Leidy's mind. She was anything but hostile. All she did was talk to the ceiling-demon, which was a perfectly normal response to losing one's mind.

Leidy stumbled, just managing to catch the bars between the two cells as she slid weakly to her knees.

“Are you okay?" the angel inquired. She held the bars, sliding down into a crouching position to be eye to eye with the still-prone Leidy. “I mean, are you sick or hurt or anything?"

This was the first time Leidy could remember being asked about her own wellbeing. Even before her imprisonment, she couldn't remember a time when anyone had asked her a simple, “Hey, are you doing okay?" Part of the reason she had volunteered for this madness was because she had never had any friends, other than Zorro. If something went wrong, what did she have to lose? Leidy's immediate response to her new neighbor's concern was to throw herself against the bars and attempt a hug. She had no choice in the matter. Her brain demanded human contact.

For her part, the naked newcomer seemed to understand what was happening. Slipping her own arms through the bars, she returned the awkward embrace. She even pretended not to hold her breath at the rank smell. “It's okay," she whispered. “We're getting out of here. I promise."

It had been so long since Leidy had worn clothes that she hadn't even considered how awkward it must be for the newcomer until she felt the sensation of bare skin rubbing against her own. The woman was warm and smelled nice. Nothing else really mattered.

“I-I-I'm okay," Leidy finally answered. “Relatively speaking. They feed me lunchroom meat and clean my bucket and-and …" She had to ask the next question. “You're real, right? I'm not having a breakdown in front of an imaginary friend? Are you an imaginary friend?"

The newcomer chuckled. No symphony ever composed could compare to the sound of a friendly laugh after months in isolation. “I'm not imaginary. The friend part depends on how high your threshold for putting up with my bullshit is." She smiled. “My name is Sarah."

“Like the Terminator lady?" Leidy had always liked the Terminator lady.

“You're god-damn right like the Terminator lady!" Her laugh was like warm rain trickling across a cathedral's stained glass window.

“Good. Good-good. Good!" Leidy gave one final hug before she sat back and allowed Sarah to breathe. “My name's Leidy. I'm sorry the first thing I said was about your shit-bucket."

“That's completely okay," Sarah giggled. “Are you … Oh fuck."

Here it was at last. Sarah must have finally noticed Leidy's strange appearance. There was no use in attempting to hide it anyway. Leidy assumed they'd probably be learning everything about each other in the eternity to follow.

Leidy cleared her throat. “Oh, right. I'm a mutant or something. A dog-girl maybe. Or a gerbil? Hopefully a gerbil. I really like gerbils."

The newcomer leaned at an angle, trying to take in the sight of Leidy in all her horrific splendor. Leidy's body was covered with sparse yellow hair, soft in most places, a bit coarse in others. It was thin enough that her filthy pale skin wasn't entirely concealed. She opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue as if she were visiting her family doctor. Even without Sarah flinching, Leidy could tell her breath must have been abysmal. She also hoped that baring her thin fangs at her new friend wouldn't be taken the wrong way, but she felt it was important to display all parts of herself. “I've got a tail too, but it's only like two inches. Do you think I might be changing into a gerbil?" she finished hopefully.

“Um, maybe?" Sarah forced herself to smile. “Gerbils are cool."

Leidy's eyes opened wide in awe. She couldn't believe it. Her new best friend also believed that gerbils were cool. “You are the best person I've ever met."

---

“And what is it that you get out of this exactly?"

The portly man spun around in his chair, sighing in annoyance. “Out of what?"

Luke nodded towards the display his employer had been examining. “Out of them." The screen showed the same image it had held for the months that Luke had been involved in this nonsense. Leidy Mellick seemed in good spirits with the addition of someone other than her own rapidly deteriorating thoughts to talk to. “Putting two prisoners in a room together doesn't seem like the smartest idea."

“One, fuck you." Chambers spun around, crossed his leg, and leaned back in his two thousand dollar office chair as if he were reading his morning Facebook headlines rather than witnessing two individuals experiencing the worst moments of their lives. He adjusted the most hideous tie ever witnessed by mortal eyes—anthropomorphic ducks in military fatigues standing bravely, back-to-back while awaiting incoming enemy soldiers. Not for the first time, Luke wondered where exactly anyone would even find something like that to purchase. “If I wanted your opinion I'd …" He casually waved his hand as he tried to finish his own sentence. “I don't want your opinion."

“Looks like y'got it anyhow." Luke shrugged. “Might as well reveal your supervillain master plan. Be a good chance to get to know each other, right? You're a cheesy evil-shady-military-supervillain and I'm the fella with a variable enough moral code to work for you. C'mon, it'll be fun."

Chambers sighed. “What do you think I get out of it?"

Another shrug. “I'm hoping you're not going to say 'money.' I'd hate to be breaking every law of the country I swore to serve for someone whose master plan is 'makin' a lotta money.'"

“I'm not planning on 'makin' a lotta money," Chambers responded snidely before muttering, “Jesus Fuck, where does an accent like that even come from?"

“Oh. Oh!" Luke was genuinely surprised. In the entire time he worked for the man, Chambers had never seemed particularly driven by anything other than his own personal profit.

“I'm planning on making a fuckton of money." Chambers turned his head to the side, trying to relieve the tension he had inflicted upon himself in ignoring his ergonomic welfare in favor of watching a woman slowly lose her humanity. “I'm planning on making an avalanche of money. I'm planning on being buried in money. Submerged. Enough money that I have to use a crane to extract myself from my ocean of money. A crane I'll purchase with my absolutely cosmic amount of money."

“Oh," Luke repeated. For a moment, he had dared to hope he was working for an interesting sociopath.

“Keep the disappointment out of your voice." Chambers gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You were hired because you're slightly more competent than the rest of the nameless ex-PMC fuckwits I pay to stand around gawking when they're not bringing meals to a failed experiment. Slightly. Very slightly. Because that's what I need. I'm not paying for opinions. I'm paying for a bodyguard." He smiled. “I'm paying for 'slightly.'"

Luke started to respond with another “oh," but he felt like that might have been pushing the limit. “So you're willin' to chalk up Ms. Mellick as … what? A trial run? A prototype?"

“I don't get it." The reply was as much of an answer as it was a deflection. “Why is it so hard now? Inject goo. Receive monster. I've seen it done a dozen times. A goat lady. A cow lady. A tiger kid. So why the fuck didn't it work on her? Or the other one."

A chill went down Luke's spine. He was sure he didn't want to hear the answer to his next question, but he was honor-bound to ask it anyway. “What 'other one?'"

“The rich bitch. The rich cow bitch." The answer was delivered as if it made any sense whatsoever. “I gave it to … Joe or Bob or whatever the fuck his name was. Him and his jarhead partner. Before the flying-death-snake tore them to pieces, they told me it completely destroyed her brain."

Luke cleared his throat. “Do you--and I ask this honestly, without any disrespect intended--realize how fucking insane those last few sentences sounded out loud?"

“And now … Laura?" Chambers ignored the interruption. “Lisa?"

“Leidy."

“And now Lauren turns into a … a nothing. She grew fur and pointy teeth." He was seething now. Luke savored the moment. Anything that upset his boss was something that filled Luke with a deep, pure personal joy. He imagined this was what his mother felt like when she was baptized. “Fur and pointy teeth aren't going to contribute to my grand design of masturbating in a pool of money larger than Jupiter's Great Fucking Red Spot. I can't exactly sell this shit to the highest-bidding wannabe third world dictator with the promise of making their soldiers cuddly with a minor overbite and a wasting sickness. They're going to want giant fucking spiders and mutant rhinos, not … cuddly and overbitey. She was supposed to be a killing machine by the end of the first week for fuck's sake. Look at her! She'd have trouble tearing tissue paper in two."

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but someone else did it for him.

“Which is why we need the subject in question."

The sound of dirty sneakers squeaking against cold linoleum heralded the arrival of the only person that unnerved Luke more than his employer. Luke wasn't certain of his name, or if he even had one. The odd man was a recent addition to their operation, only making his presence known a few days ago. Upon meeting him, Luke had given him a simple greeting of “Doctor?", hoping that he would fill in the blank and provide his last name. His response had been, “Doctor Doctor." Luke was fairly certain “Doctor" wasn't the strange man's last name.

There were rumors, of course. There were rumors about everyone, but about this man in particular. Experiments done in secret, even before the contract had started. Innocent lives lost because of him. Violent reactions to injections. People so transformed that they had to be euthanized. Luke didn't believe the stories, because he didn't want to believe the stories. Keeping his head down and doing his job was more his forte, and he was thankful for that.

“Yes," Chambers responded wearily, as if this was a conversation he'd been a part of a hundred times before. “The aforementioned flying-death-snake. Which you would like to--"

“Examine in my laboratory," the Doctor interrupted. Luke didn't want to think about the man's definition of “examining."

“Examine in your laboratory," Chambers repeated. “Rather than, I dunno, selling the bitch to someone else. For a fuckload of money. So that THEY can dissect her."

The Doctor lifted his glasses enough to rub his tired eyes. “A wizard once said something about the follies of breaking a thing of value. But I would imagine books without pictures are outside of your comfort zone."

“Cute." Chambers adjusted his tie. It was like watching a child poke at a dead animal with a stick. “And what was it this wizard said about the follies of breaking a thing of value?"

“That it's fucking stupid," Luke offered. The other two men turned to regard him as if they had forgotten he was present.

“You're …" The Doctor squinted at Luke as if he were trying to determine which breed of pelican he was. “Your associate is correct. We'd be tearing apart a Monet in order to make enough to buy a coloring book. The creature in question is the perfect lifeform. It is the culmination of everything I've strived to create for decades. It's not a killing machine--it's a dozen killing machines, disparate species working together in harmony in a way as fascinating as it is impossible. Give me a week with it and I'll know how to provide you with a score of … what was it? Spider-rhinos?"

Chambers's brow rose as he no doubt contemplated how lucrative a battalion of spider-rhinos could be.

“And THEN we can dissect it," concluded the Doctor.

“And say we capture it," Luke interjected. “What--"

“Why is this one speaking?" the Doctor interrupted. The tone of his voice was abrasive, though he seemed to be trying to keep it in check. “The others don't speak. I mean, I've heard them gibber incessantly about professional wrestling and their own personal sexual conquests, but this one seems to think his opinion is warranted or appreciated?"

Luke smiled. Finally. Showtime. “This one has a name. This one's name is Staff Sergeant Lucas Hicks. The connotations between the surname and the accent have been noted and appreciated. This one has accomplished more on the battlefield in a single day than you have ever conceived of as being possible. This one has taken shits more intimidating than you." He couldn't keep the smile away, and he wouldn't dream of trying. “I wasn't just hired as a personal bodyguard to our fat, balding associate. I was also brought on to handle the capture and containment of the chimeric creature in question. You're attempting to capture the most dangerous animal to ever walk the planet. An animal that also happens to be a scientific genius. And I'm guessing your expertise in the field of capturing something of that magnitude amounts to 'fuck' and 'all.'" He paused for dramatic effect. “So how about you let little-ol'-me handle my job and you can handle … whatever the fuck it is you do."

The Doctor's reaction was entirely unexpected. Luke had anticipated the sort of petulant fury one would find on a grade school playground. Instead, there was an almost begrudging respect in the mad scientist's eyes, perhaps the amusement a man would express at watching a hamster dig a hole. “Noted." He nodded towards Luke, then turned to address Chambers. “None of us are going to make a red fucking cent if your greatest accomplishment was turning the estranged daughter of a hedge fund manager into a braindead bovine. We need a formula that works, and we need one that works without the resources the pair of us were so recently used to having access to."

“We HAVE a formula that works." Chambers gestured towards his monitors. Luke wondered, not for the first time, why so many hidden cameras were needed for one subject in such a small area. “It just doesn't quite work in the way we need it to. But if you're capable of doing what I'm paying you to be capable of doing then we shouldn't even need the death-snake in question. I'm certain you'll have better luck with the new subject."

There was a noticeable freeze in the Doctor's movements. “The … new subject?"

Now it was Luke's turn to be surprised. The Doctor wasn't aware that Leidy Mellick now had a neighbor. He almost pushed Chambers out of the way as he leaned forward to examine the display. “You've … brought in someone else? When the results of the last two subjects were unfavorable?"

Chambers shrugged. “Only one of the cows was singing 'Daisy, Daisy.' The other turned into a rather intimidating minotaur-thing if I was informed correctly. Sadly, our current subject, Laura--"

“Leidy," Lucas corrected. If they were going to ruin a human being's life, they could at least get her name right.

“--Laura's genes have turned out to be less than cooperative."

The Doctor slowly smiled. “But you haven't administered the formula to the new arrival yet. Good. That's good. I have a new batch of serum that I feel most optimistic about. A random person off the street is less than ideal, but I do so enjoy the challenge of working with limited resources."

Chambers shook his head. “She wasn't a random person off the street. She was the last of the 'volunteers' drafted into the contract. No use in kidnapping a subject when there's a subject willing to buy into avoiding life in prison for entering a military base they've never heard of by being injected with mutant juice."

“Did you say 'the last of the volunteers?'" The Doctor, it seemed, was far from fully aware of everything that happened around him. “Then the … contract is finished then?"

Chambers shrugged lazily. He was good at that. “The money always runs out well after the contract has been declared useless to national security. It takes a few years for the wheel to stop spinning, but it has finally done just that. Mutant animals are so 2017. It's part of the reason I was able to acquire--"

“Steal," Luke interjected.

“Part of the reason I was able to steal the solution easily and remain unnoticed. But just because our government has figured out it's not economically and militarily feasible doesn't mean there aren't entrepreneurial third world nations who could suddenly find themselves in the market for freaks." He spun around dramatically. “Freaks such as our Ms. Lisa here."

The Doctor turned to Luke. “I would like to see the new subject. Immediately."

---

Mark woke as he did every morning, wrapped in a warm, slightly goey embrace of several dozen feet of coiled serpent tail. He'd be lying if he said he didn't mess his memory foam mattress, but he had grown to find the sensation a comfortable one nonetheless--like a fairly smelly spa treatment.

Less comforting, however, was a sight that still startled him every morning as he bore witness to three hundred jagged shark teeth arranged in multiple rows as his wife yawned. Candice's long tongue waved back and forth lazily as she forced four pairs of eyes open slowly. “Whu time izzit?"

“No idea. Later than usual, but not so late we couldn't hit the snooze button." Mark held up a single finger and used it to mime pressing a button on an invisible alarm clock. “Beep."

“M'hungry," came the half-conscious reply from his chimera wife.

“K," Mark replied as he snuggled closer. “Want me to pack up a bit while you snatch breakfast?"

“No," she purred.

“No?"

Candice motioned in the direction of the beach with a sharp mantis talon. “Sharks. 'Member?"

“Oh. Right."

“Sharks," she concluded with an heir of finality before slowly starting to rise. “Ow! Fuck."

“What happened?"

“My arm's asleep."

“Which arm?"

“One of the squiggly ones."

Mark started to reply before a third voice suddenly intruded on their morning ritual.

“I trust I'm not interrupting anything important?"

Mark responded with a start, Candice with a quiet “meep" that turned into a low hiss as they both turned and beheld a familiar figure standing just a few feet away..

“Fuck …," Mark groaned.

“... me," Candice concurred.

---

“John Goodman."

“God damn it," Leidy whined. She leaned her head back against the fence separating the two cells as she tugged the long golden hairs on her forearm. “How'd you get so good at this? You got it in like ten questions."

“Probably because you picked John Goodman like three games ago," Sarah kindly answered.

“Oh." She leaned forward, placing her head against her slightly furry arms. Why did her head hurt so badly today?

“And three games before that one. And four games before that one. And--"

“You know, you really make me miss the days when it was just me and the ceiling-demon." She heard Sarah turn around, probably staring at the back of Leidy's head and trying to figure out what it was she was talking about. Leidy couldn't blame her. “Ceiling-demon never made fun of my shitty memory."

“The ceiling-demon?"

“Not important." Leidy sighed as she slumped to her side, then rolled onto her back, absentmindedly slipping her hand between the bars into her new friend's cell. She gave a start when she felt Sarah take her hand and lay down next to her. Leidy hadn't actually meant to silently ask for her hand to be held, but she wasn't opposed to it either.

“Want to talk about it?" Sarah sympathetically inquired.

Yes. Yes, she did. She also couldn't imagine anything she'd rather avoid. “I … volunteered for this nonsense because they told me I'd be like … Captain America or something." Leidy sniffed. She wasn't going to let Sarah see her cry. She wasn't. “That I'd be stronger, faster, less … less me. I'm so fucking stupid. And now?"

Sarah paused, waiting for her to continue. When Leidy didn't, Sarah softly prompted, “Now?"

Leidy held her other hand into the air close enough for Sarah to see it. It was shaking. It was always shaking. “I don't have fingernails anymore."

“That's …" Sarah leaned closer, examining Leidy's hand. “Huh. What … happened to them?"

“I threw them in the shit-bucket." She motioned lazily towards said shit-bucket. “Toenails too. All gone. Bye-bye."

“No, I mean why'd they fall off to begin with?" The tone in Sarah's voice was genuinely concerned. It was natural that her cellmate's well being would be of interest to her. But there was something else, a familiarity that Leidy wasn't quite expecting, like Sarah wasn't as bothered as she should be by … By something. It was gone. Like everything in the past few “weeks," Leidy's train of thought derailed as soon as it had left the station. “Is it part of your changes?" Sarah asked.

Leidy attempted to shrug, but she was growing tired. “Sarah … I sleep too much. Like way, way too much. I know people in solitary confinement sleep a lot. Some kinda defense mechanism or something. But I feel so weak, too. Like …" She squeezed Sarah's hand and was happy to feel her new friend squeeze back. “Sarah, what if the changes gave me cancer or something?"

“They didn't give you cancer!" Sarah rolled onto her side, slipping her other hand between the bars as she cradled Leidy's slightly furry arm in an attempt to comfort her. Whoever the fuck Sarah was, she was a good person. “Maybe it's just a temporary thing? Like you're gonna grow claws or bug-arms or something?"

“I don't want bug-arms," Leidy whined. She was trying as hard as she could to keep her voice from shaking. “I want to go home."

“I know," Sarah soothed. “We will. Soon. I promise."

“How do you know that?"

Sarah was silent for a moment, as if she was either trying to think of a reason or debating whether or not she should say something. When she finally spoke, Leidy had the impression that she had decided on neither of those two options. “What was home like?"

Leidy gave a small giggle. “Fucking nothing. I worked from home. Home Shopping Network. Sold green plastic shit to old people who probably just wanted someone to talk to. Fuck, now I'm sad. You'd think I'd be used to staying locked up all day, it's all I did anyway. I hated leaving my apartment."

“Family?"

A shake of her head.

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

Another shake.

“Friends?" Sarah snickered. “Other than the ceiling-demon?"

“Zorro."

Sarah was obviously confused. Leidy couldn't blame her. Talking to her had to be like talking to a heavily drugged child. “Like … the old black and white show? I loved that one. Nick at Nite for life, yo."

Leidy shook her head. “Zorro's my cat." She was wiping away tears now with stubby fingers bereft of nails. “Was my cat. He had little black spots over his eyes, like he was wearing a mask. And a little black 'mustache.' I-I dunno how long I've been in here, what if … Sarah, do you think Zorro's okay?"

“Zorro's okay, Leidy." Sarah rubbed her arm consolingly. It wasn't a romantic gesture--that was the last thing Leidy was interested in right now. Sarah just seemed like the type of person who communicated with touch. “I know it."

“Just like you know we're getting out of here soon?" Leidy glanced toward her friend. Probably the only friend she'd ever had.

“You're goddamn right."

Leidy was silent for a moment. She felt embarrassed at what she was about to ask. “D'you think if we get out of--"

“When," Sarah corrected. “Not 'if,' 'when.'"

“When we get out of here, we could … go watch a movie or something? Like, y'know … friends?"

Another squeeze of her hand. “Dude, what the fuck are you even talking about right now? 'Go watch a movie?' You'll have to get a restraining order to get rid of me. We're besties for life now, girl." Another pleasant laugh. “You, me, and Zorro."

Leidy wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying, but she was happy either way.

Until the door opened.

It was not bucket-time. Or food-time. This in itself was alarming. The last time anyone entered without it being bucket-time or food-time, Leidy had made a new friend. Somehow she knew this visit wasn't going to be a happy one.

---

The lanky man looked older every time Mark saw him. Admittedly, he had only interacted with him “in person" twice following Candice's transformation, but he seemed to have aged a decade in only a few years. Mark wondered how much longer he'd continue in his role as financial benefactor for their little mutant clinic or the work he did in covering up and protecting mutated individuals.

“He's doing the …?" Mark started to ask a question he knew Candice would answer before he finished speaking.

“Hologram thing. Yeah." Candice rose to her full height, nearly ten feet while standing straight up. “You should drop by for real some time. Let me introduce you to my twitchy mantis thingies." Her scythelike appendages waved back and forth menacingly. They'd always unnerved Mark, even when he'd grown used to the rest of Candice's more carnivorous aspects. Those arms always hinted at there being a dangerous insectile hunger waiting just beneath the surface of her sapient mind. After their ordeal a few months ago wherein Mark stupidly tried to replicate Candice's changes on himself they had seemed to lose their harshness, almost becoming protective of him. It was a silly thought--they were as much a part of Candice as her hooves or tail or wings and possessed no sentience of their own. At least, he hoped so.

The strange man nodded towards Mark with a smile. “Dr. Clark, I'm happy to find that you aren't a thirty-foot long chimera." He frowned as he gave Candice an apologetic look. “No offense meant, of course, Dr. Paul."

Candice's reply was a low crocodilian hiss mixed with a lion's growl.

“We're viewing that as more of a postponement," Mark answered. “I still have the formula, but we're shifting the schedule to the right on using it."

“Ah," came the simple reply.

“I was going to kill him if he did," Candice added, although she wrapped a long tentacle around his shoulder affectionately as she did.

“That's what I told him," the stranger replied.

Candice blinked four sets of eyes independently, cocking her head to the side as she gave a quizzical mewling noise. “You did?"

“Those exact words. 'She's going to kill you.' But--"

“But he never listens!"

“But he never listens," the stranger agreed.

“He literally never listens!"

“Okay," Mark sighed. “I think we're all on the same page here concerning the events in question." There was a pause in whatever odd conversation was happening, broken only when Candice mouthed the words “never listens" conspiratorially to the stranger. “What do you want?"

“There is … something I need your help with. The both of you."

The pair exchanged a look. Mark could tell his wife was trying not to laugh. Each waited for the other to answer, and although Mark was the first to speak up he knew his question was what Candice would've asked as well. “What in the fuck could you possibly need us for?"

“Please don't say 'dumb mutant monster bullshit,'" Candice implored. “Please? I'm asking nicely."

The response was a smile displaying the whitest teeth Mark had ever beheld.

“See?" Candice gestured at the stranger with a tentacle as she turned to her husband. “Dumb mutant monster bullshit. It's ALWAYS dumb mutant monster bullshit."

---

Sarah leapt to her feet, charging toward the door to her cell, bare feet slapping loudly on the cold concrete. Leidy's reaction was the exact opposite, curling into a ball in the corner, palms up and visible. Let them see you mean no harm. Let them see you are cooperating. Let them see you're a good girl.

Five people had entered the room. This in itself was extremely concerning. The two masked guards were expected, even welcome in some strange psychological way that Leidy wasn't prepared to consider. The third was dressed similarly to the two nameless guards, albeit without a mask. If he weren't wearing identical body armor and following behind two people with tasers, Leidy would almost say he looked like a fairly pleasant person. Even handsome. The fourth was a short, chubby man with thinning hair and a suit that likely cost more money than Leidy would ever make in her life. His tie was to fashion what a black hole was to matter. Leidy wouldn't have been surprised if he were the boss of whatever lay beyond this nonsense. And the fifth …

The fifth immediately terrified her, though she wasn't sure why. He wore a dirty labcoat, stained with brown blotches the origin of which Leidy didn't want to know. He looked like he hadn't showered in weeks, although Leidy supposed she was the last person to condemn someone on that account. A thick pair of almost opaque spectacles rendered his eyes just barely visible, something that Leidy felt was very much intentional. But it was the coldness of his demeanor that bothered Leidy the most.

And Sarah the least.

“Look at this Jimmy Neutron side character mother fucker! For the love of Christ, PLEASE tell me I'm not about to be killed by someone this fucking goofy looking. I have high standards."

The Doctor leaned towards the short businessman as he nodded towards Leidy. “Mr. Chambers? This is the one that you've already pointlessly injected with the formula?"

The man he had called Chambers shrugged aggressively. “Look, the fuck do you want from me? I stuck her with the needle, I gave her the goo, now she looks like hairy Smeagol. I didn't think this shit was rocket science."

“It's not rocket science." The Doctor seemed on the verge of a homicidal breakdown. “It is biological science. Extremely experimental, cutting edge biological science. And like all experimentation, it needs to be conducted in a controlled environment, monitored constantly, and take into consideration its subjects' continued welfare."

“So what the fuck what?" Chambers inquired near-incoherently. “What? You want to give them a little goop at a time? Set up a fucking camera in the corner? Watch her while eating fucking Crunch-n-Munch? 'This violation of human rights is filmed before a live audience,' like the Fresh Fucking Prince of Bel-Air? Should we have given her cookies?"

“They said I'd be like Captain America." The words had escaped Leidy's mouth, and she prayed they hadn't heard her. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. It was the last thing she wanted. Nothing good ever came from attracting attention to herself, even before she had been turned into a freak.

“Okay, Doctor," Chambers mocked. “How are we going to make fucktillions of dollars if we aren't going to inject them with monster juice?"

The Doctor raised a brow. “Whoever said we aren't injecting them with 'monster juice?' We're most definitely injecting them with monster juice. But we're injecting them with monster juice like professionals." He turned to Sarah with an unnerving smile, and Leidy wondered how many times he had repeated his next words. “Are we going to cooperate, or must we involve sparky boxes and spiky poles?"

“I've got a spiky pole with your asshole's name on it." Sarah blinked, seemingly confused by her own exclamation. “If your ... asshole has a name. Does your asshole have a name?"

The small, shady scientist gave a shrug. “Sparky boxes it is. Lucas?"

The friendly-looking guard stepped aside, motioning for his subordinates to unlock the door.

“Okay, wait wait wait." Sarah was backing up now. “Bluff called. You got it. You're running the show."

“Capital!" The Doctor smiled. Leidy was a bit surprised that his teeth seemed more-or-less white. “It's so pleasant when the subjects realize they're subjects. Now if you'd be so kind as to put your arms through the bars?"

Sarah hesitated a moment, glancing in Leidy's direction for guidance. As if Leidy had any to spare. She tried to give a look of “go along with them."

Her new friend nodded slightly, stepped forward, and put both of her arms through the bars, palms face-up. One of the nameless guards slid before her, roughly clasping a handcuff on her first wrist.

“Gently, my grade-school-dropout friend." The Doctor glared daggers at the guard. “Cooperation is met with kindness, dissent with consequences. Do we understand?"

The guard hesitated a moment before he gently placed the other clasp onto Sarah's remaining wrist. She was now trapped with her hands locked outside of her cage, the cuffs preventing her from pulling them away..

“Thank you. Both of you." The Doctor's smile widened. “Just a precaution, you understand, for our own safety."

Sarah gave a sharp, barking laugh. “Yeah, I'm really a threat in this state. Fuckhead."

He seemed to ignore the insult, extracting a syringe from the hidden depths of his labcoat. “Just a little pinprick. This should be faster-acting than your associate's transformation. Especially since it was prepared with someone with a doctorate in something more than fast food consumption." He glanced in Chamber's direction, but the portly man either seemed to not notice or not care. He gingerly applied a cotton swab of rubbing alcohol to her wrist before piercing her skin with the needle with the care of a kindly small-town doctor. Leidy shut her eyes, turning her head to look away from the sight as if her friend were about to explode. Why did her fucking head hurt so much?

“Annnnd all done. Thank you for your cooperation." Leidy slowly opened her eyes, relieved to find that for the moment Sarah seemed perfectly fine. “The cuffs if you would, random nameless goon?"

In a few short moments, Sarah was freed. She stepped backwards, nearly tripping over her brand-new bucket before her bare back pressed against the far wall and she slid down to sit next to her friend. Leidy resisted the urge to slide her hand through the bars and take Sarah's hands. If the bastards saw that they were friendly they might remove her and Sarah would be alone again with the ceiling-demon. Sarah was much better company.

Finished with his work, the Doctor slid the syringe back into his pocket. “Shall we?" He made a step towards the door to the World-Outside.

“You aren't going to watch?" Chambers seemed confused. This was likely a frequent occurrence. “We aren't going to watch?"

“I am," the mad scientist answered. “From the camera upstairs. Where I can take notes. What you choose to do is your business. Join me if you wish. Or perhaps you'd rather spend your time with the Chicken McNuggies you saw fit to place in my laboratory refrigerator." He nodded towards the other guard, who opened the door to the World-Outside.

As Chambers followed the Doctor outside, he was mumbling just loudly enough to make certain he was heard. “You know, I can't fucking wait until we get to the part where I inevitably betray you and get to shoot you. Really, really marking that one on the calendar. Got an Outlook reminder and everything."

“I feel weird," Sarah whispered. “Hot." Now it was impossible for Leidy not to take her friend's hand.

Last to pass through the threshold out of the room was the kindly-looking guard bereft of a mask. What was it the Doctor had called him? Lucas? “I'm … sorry. To both of you. Not supposed to say that, but … Yeah." He seemed on the verge of saying something else, but only nodded sadly and slipped out the door, the loud clank of his departure the last sound Leidy heard …

Before the screaming.

Sarah released Leidy's hand, bringing her own hands to her face as her eyes grew wide with dismay. Her fingernails were noticeably lengthening, pressing against her fingertips as they grew clear and sharp. A thin string of drool escaped Sarah's lips as she opened her mouth, gritting her teeth for just a moment until her lengthening incisors made that impossible.

“What the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK?"

It was an apt question.

For a moment Leidy felt like she should back away from her friend, though she felt terrible at the thought. It could've been that part of her subconscious mind was recoiling from fear, perhaps simple human preservation. Then she came to the realization that neither of them were strictly speaking human any longer. On all fours, she crept to the bars separating their respective cells. “Sarah, are you okay?" This was, of course, the dumbest question Leidy felt she had ever asked in her life.

Sarah's only response was the scrape of her elongated toenails against the concrete floor as she stretched her legs, watching as sparse black hairs grew from her shins, sliding past her knees, across her thighs, eventually joining the mass expanding from her crotch. She looked anxiously in Leidy's direction with black eyes that seemed to lack sclera, a nervous smile upon her lips. “Guess I should've opted for the electrolysis when I had the chance." She raised her arms, examining the thickening hair on her forearms. It was growing from everywhere now, a treasure trail climbing across her naval, joining the sparse hairs that amassed between her small breasts. “Fucking weird," was all she could say.

“It's … kinda pretty?" Why did she always have to say the weirdest things? “Looks soft. Mine's like stringy baby's hair. We'll just … hit the salon when we get out of here, right? Oh Jesus Christ, Sarah, please be okay."

Sarah nodded even as she gave a wince and rolled onto her left side to attempt to examine her ass. Leidy was a little surprised that it seemed sort of flabby, like she was used to sitting in an office all day. Sarah just didn't seem cut out for weekly performance reviews. More hair was gathering in her crack, spreading around her cheeks. Still, it was what was happening above her crack that drew the attention of both captives, a scaly pink tail just beginning to extend from her tailbone, row after row of flesh-covered cartilage forming from seemingly nowhere until she had the tail of …

“A rat?" Sarah sneered, although it looked almost like a smile. “They turned me into a rat?" The black hairs didn't seem to want to grow along the scaly length, only a few sparse white hairs that swayed softly as the tail twitched from left to right. Sarah leaned forward, examining her pink, gnarled fingers while giving her tail the room to continue growing. “I mean … rats are cool?"

Leidy blinked. “They are?"

“I think so. Do you think that's what you are going to be? Were supposed to be?"

“I dunno," Leidy confessed. “I don't feel very ratty. But … if I turn into a cat or something I promise not to eat you."

“Thanks, kid." Sarah chuckled. “You're the best." She seemed to be taking this far better than Leidy had in the “weeks" she had spent slowly changing.

Sarah's clawed hands trailed across her torso for only a moment until she gave a sharp hiss.

“Does it hurt?" Leidy asked sympathetically.

Sarah shook her head slowly, although her eyes fluttered and her eyelids drooped. “Feels really good, actually." Leidy was about to ask what she was talking about until she noticed Sarah's thin, bony fingers pinching a teat where a teat most certainly should not be. As she continued playing with herself, more nipples started slipping from her skin, trailing in two rows down her torso, the bottommost level with her furry slit.

“You've got … twelve nipples," Leidy said as if telling her friend she needed to leave soon to catch the bus on time.

Another string of drool slipped from Sarah's mouth as she grinned at the declaration. She seemed almost high. “Sshhokay." Her words came out slurred until, with a murine squeak her eyes opened wide as her jaw started to slide forward, her pink nose twitching as clear, stiff whiskers slipped from her cheeks. “Ssshhhit that feelsssh weird." With a loud groan she rolled onto her other side, clutching at her face as with a sickening crunch her nose and jaw started to lengthen into a boxy muzzle.

Leidy slid closer, slipping both hands through the bars, one on her friend's furry shoulder, the other running gently through her hair. Her fingers couldn't help brushing across Sarah's ears as they slid higher on her head, turning paper-thin and warm. They were the softest things Leidy had ever touched. Unfortunately, Sarah's pretty dark hair was slipping from her scalp, quickly replaced by the dark fur that now almost completely enveloped the rest of her body. “Your hair," Leidy whispered as the fallen locks seemed to dissolve into nothingness before her eyes.

“It's fine. It'll save me so much time getting ready after I step outta the shower." Another groan turned into an outright scream as Sarah's feet began to stretch, her hairy shins shortening as the balls of her feet started to become more pronounced.

“Like a doggy," Leidy said absentmindedly.

The scream turned back into a moan, then a simple squeak as Sarah fought to slow her rapid breathing. “Guess …" She swallowed, licking her lips with a long tongue as she tried to clear her throat. “Guess I'll have to learn to walk all over again."

“I'll help," Leidy offered. For once, she didn't sound like an awkward moron.

“I know." Sarah looked up at Leidy kindly, albeit with the lifeless eyes of a doll. Her tail had finished its growth, three feet of scaly skin curling slightly beneath her legs. Sarah began to fidget with it, running her claws up and down the segmented, wormlike length. The last patches of her tanned skin were disappearing now, enveloped in a rich coat of fur that ended up covering her entire body sans her hands, feet, and tail. Her muzzle had finished growing as well, her pretty face forever altered into something less than human but still oddly beautiful in some strange way. The changes seemed to have finished.

Sarah slid an arm underneath her head, propping her neck up as she rested after her ordeal. “What's the first thing you're going to eat when we get out of here?"

“Y-You … what?" Leidy laughed. “You just turned into Chuck E. Cheese's hot sister and you're talking about food?"

Twin orbs of darkest black turned in Leidy's direction, as she waited wordlessly for her friend to answer.

“Vietnamese takeout," she meekly answered.

“Ohhhhhh, fuck yeah!" Sarah chuckled as she licked her hands, rubbing her own saliva over her nose and whiskers. “We're Grub Hubbing that shit. Day one. No question."

---

The wraith of a man looked around as if searching for a place to sit, though he stopped when he perhaps remembered he was present only as a hologram. “There is a splinter cell in my organization."

“Your turn-people-into-monsters organization?" Candice couldn't help but throw in the jab.

“My turn-people-into-monsters organization that I am trying my absolute best to shut down." He sighed. “But, yes, that organization. Led by an individual with a rather undesirable habit of independent thinking. Particularly when it comes to increasing his own wealth"

“Anyone we'd know?" Mark asked. It had been years since the two of them had worked for Aerodyne Rocketjet, but there were bound to be a few names they'd recognize.

The stranger shook his head. “No. Although you are intimately familiar with the fruits of his labors from your time in Florida."

“The … cow people?" Candiced seemed as shocked as her husband. Again the pair shared a look. “Ben and Camilla? He was involved in that?"

He nodded. “He allowed some of the transformative substance--"

“Monster goo," Candice corrected.

“... The monster goo to fall into the hands of one of his employees, a Mr. Blake Cole. Low level contractor, but enough ambition to be willing to break the law when given the opportunity by his employer. I believe he wanted to find out the results of the formula that he had stolen before attempting to use it himself." He extracted a device from his pocket, clicking a few buttons before the image of a rather plain balding individual appeared next to him.

“This is Newton Chambers," the stranger continued. “The worst kind of middle manager: one that knows he is a middle manager. I've wanted him removed from the playing field for a while now, but was afraid of drawing further attention to the …" He glanced at the ten foot tall chimera. “ … monster goo production contract." The stranger raised his brows to emphasize his next words. “The one I'm actively working to put a stop to. I might have mentioned that."

“Not fast enough." Mark spoke bitterly. “Did we mention the two young people turned into cows?"

“The further Chambers moves away from my direct supervision, the more he is able to operate in secrecy, the more people are going to be affected by this. There are at least two dozen individuals who have been victims of this pointless project …" He frowned as he added, “And now because of him, there's one more. Leidy Mellick. We haven't had any word about her well-being in fourteen days."

Mark heard his wife mutter a barely audible, “Fuck." He concurred with her scientific evaluation.

“That's where we come in?" Mark inquired. “And what is it you expect us to do? Rescue her, assuming she's still alive and sapient? And then--"

“Smash his … Oh fuck! Mark!" Candice stomped one hoof, then the other, using her large tail to maintain her balance as she tried to bounce. “Does he have a super secret villain lair?! Do I get to smash his super secret villain lair?!"

“He's not going to want us to …" Mark stopped when he saw a smile creep across the stranger's leathery face. “Oh God damnit."

The spooky bastard held up a hand. “Maybe. Possibly. Although I'm hoping it doesn't have to come to that. I'd like you to infiltrate his organization, ascertain Miss Mellick's status, and then report back to me when it is safe to do so. Dr. Clark, I can provide you with a false identity of a disgruntled biologist, something that he'll buy into rather quickly assuming he hasn't already hired someone for the job. The problems with the … cow people subjects has him afraid to move forward for fear of potential investors getting wind of a defective formula. He wants to sell them mutated individuals with a proclivity towards combat, not mentally and emotionally damaged herbivores."

Candice looked at her darling husband with a barely suppressed hopeful smile.

“No. Fuck this. Find someone else."

“There is no one else, Dr. Clark."

“Bullshit. Bull. Shit." Mark was tired of seeing his wife placed in danger because of a system too stupid to know it was stupid. “You have a squintillion fucking dollars backing you. You can figure out a way of removing him without drawing attention to yourself. Give me one good reason why--"

“I trust you."

Mark was left momentarily speechless at the confession. The man was so wrapped in political and military intrigue that he seemed incapable of trust. “Thanks, that really means fuck all. I appreciate it. Honestly. Good to be trusted by an X-Files villain."

Candice was purring cutely now in the way she always did when she was trying to talk him into something he didn't want to do. She knew for a god-damned fact he couldn't say no to the god-damned purring. It wasn't fair, and she knew it wasn't fair.

“Fuck me," Mark sighed before he felt a large paw on his shoulder.

“Baby?"

“Also …" There it was. That fucking 'I know everything' smile Mark had learned to loathe in his brief interactions with the man. “You two owe me for covering your asses in Florida."

“What, with the rednecks I murdered?" Candice snorted indignantly. “Wow, that sounded way more callous than I meant for it to. But, I mean … it wasn't like they didn't have it coming. They were going to kill two innocent people. And it was Florida! Florida should come with its own warning label."

“Candice …"

“'If you or someone you know is thinking about Florida, know that there are people who can help.'"

“Candice."

“'You are not alone.'"

“Candice!"

“With the opossums," the stranger clarified.

It was entirely possible that the man had lost his mind.

“With the …"

“The opossums. That you created. Because you didn't follow my instructions and verify that all of the sample had been destroyed when you torched the building." He frowned as he added, “And ate smores."

“We made possums?" Candice attempted to wipe a string of slime from her chin using a slimier appendage. “How many possums did we make?"

“Two," the stranger answered. “A female and a male. They seem rather happy, and as long as they stay in their isolated environment and away from smartphone cameras then I don't see any reason to intrude on that happiness."

“This is the weirdest life," Mark whispered. “Just the weirdest, silliest, stupidest life."

“Imagine being happy as a possum," Candice muttered. “Wow. What the hell is wrong with Florida?"

---

“So which movie are we watching first?" the rat inquired.

“I get to pick?" Leidy smiled, a weak grin on her face, surprisingly optimistic given the experience she'd endured for the past few months.

“Of course!" The metal bucket in Sarah's cell gave a scraping noise as she shifted it with her foot. The rat woman alternated between fidgeting with her tail and shoving the only object in her cell around. Anything to keep the boredom at bay. If their places were reversed, would Leidy be the upbeat one and Sarah the one speaking to the ceiling-demon? Somehow she doubted that. “Anything you want. As long as you pick Robocop."

“The old one or the remake?"

“There was never a remake." Sarah pointed a sharp nail towards Leidy. She bore her teeth in a sign of faux aggression. “It. Never. Happened. Get me?"

“Get you," Leidy giggled. “That's fine. I've never seen it."

The bucket scraped twice as loudly as it threatened to topple. Sarah's jaw dropped. She pulled her long scaly tail to her front, wringing it in frustration between her bony fingers. “I am … so disappointed right now."

“Sorry."

“Not in you," Sarah replied. “In society. What has our country become when a grown-ass adult hasn't seen Robocop?"

Leidy started to reply before the loud clank of the door echoed loudly enough to reverberate the steel bars of their cage. It was feeding time. Leidy tried to push herself into the corner, but the room was suddenly spinning. Casting a glance at Sarah, she found a stoic look on her boxy rodent face. Sarah waved dismissively at Leidy as she again tried to push herself into a position where she could crawl away.

“No more of that," the rat woman hissed at her. “You're done cringing. You're done cowering. They can't make you do that. Not anymore. You're too much of a badass for that."

Leidy started to reply that she wasn't until Sarah cast a warm look at her. Not for the first time, Leidy wished she would've known Sarah in the World-Beyond.

The heavy door swung open with an agonizing creak as a lone figure stepped into the room. It wasn't the expected nameless, masked guard leaving foul lunchroom meat. It was the man from earlier, the guard with a face. What was his name? Lucas? Louis? This was unusual.

Even more unusual was the look of timid shame that he wore on his face as he locked the door behind him. He approached the midway point between both cells, cleared his throat, and said the most insane thing Leidy had ever heard.

“Do you mind if I sit down?"

“Sure!" For a creature without canines, Sarah's teeth seemed incredibly wicked. She raised a paw and extended her middle finger in the guard's direction, the stubby digit capped with a sharp, clear claw. “Got a place all cleared off for you. Right here, big guy."

Don't make him mad, Leidy thought. Don't make him mad, don't make him mad, don't make him--

Sarah winked at her, and that was all it took. “Y-Yeah …" She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Let us out of here or we'll make sure where you sit is the least of your worries … Fuckhead."

Another wink. Another smile. Maybe that's all it took. In the absence of courage, maybe pretend courage was good enough.

Regardless of the threats, the man took a seat, leaning against the far wall as a tired expression crossed her face. “I'll take that as a 'okie-dokie.'" He reached underneath his tactical vest and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights. For a moment, he looked like he was considering whether to offer one to the captives. A casual glance at Sarah's claws and gnashing teeth was probably all it took for him to reconsider. He lit up the cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling in chemical ecstasy before he turned his attention back to the pair of captives. “Neither of y'all strike me as cancer-stick aficionados," he said cordially, a Southern drawl present in his voice that he must have kept restrained when sounding authoritative to his men. “Oh, and the cameras are off, by the way."

Sarah resumed shifting her bucket with her foot. “Customary to give prisoners a cigarette before they're brought before the firing squad. That what's happening here?"

The soldier looked sad. “No." He took another long drag. “No, that's not what's happening here. Neither one of you are going to be hurt. I promise you that."

“How comforting. The word of a yokel with a gun working for a mad scientist and a sleazy crook with God's greatest failure as his necktie. Did you give this speech to the people in this cage before we got here?"

A shake of his head. “There weren't any test subjects before you two. I'm … pretty sure there won't be any afterwards. Not for a while, at least." He nodded towards Leidy. She was somewhat proud of herself for not flinching. “Boss-man had big plans for you. Thought you'd turn into …" He waved the cigarette in a circle, searching for the words. “I dunno, Godzilla or something. Guess he's tempered his expectations a mite, but with the Doc on board and turning out rat mutants successfully on the first try … I guess he'll be getting his hopes up again." Another drag. For a man who smoked, his fingernails looked unusually pristine. “Name's Luke, by the way."

“Don't care," Sarah piped in reflexively. “What's the point of this, anyway? Hoping that Stockholm syndrome kicks in or something?"

Luke was silent for a moment before answering, “I honestly don't know. Had this big scene set up in my head. Was going to come in, say that I'm sorry. Fuck knows why you'd care about that, and I don't blame you. Suppose it's a bit masturbatory, really. Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone who doesn't either creep me out or make me ashamed to be me."

“You could let us go." The words were hollow even to Leidy as she spoke them. “We won't talk, we won't tell anyone, we-we'll just hide in my apartment for the rest of our lives. Even after all of this, you could still let us go."

A final drag on the cigarette before he crushed it, extinguishing the ember between his fingers. “I know." He seemed unable to look at them any longer. He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. “But, hell, been avoiding doing the right thing for so long, wouldn't even know where to start now." He turned to face the door. “They're … going to come for you soon, Miss Sarah. I … promise they're not going to hurt you. You have my word on that."

“Fuck you," Sarah politely replied. “But, hey, next time stay a little longer whenever you get the urge to do whatever-the-fuck this was. It was nice. I'm still going to chew on your eyestalks by the time this is over, but it was really nice."

He gave a sad smile, unlocked the door, and slipped away.

Leidy started to ask what exactly just happened. She never got the chance. Without any indication that something was wrong, she suddenly began vomiting all over her lap. Her world became full of pink stars and muffled lights as she slid to her side. She hardly felt her head hitting the floor.

“Leidy? Leidy?!"

She felt a warm paw on her shin, gently shaking her before the motions became more and more frantic. Leidy heard herself respond, but it sounded like she was underwater, and she couldn't be sure what it was she was even saying. Someone began screaming, although it was very distant, perhaps down the hallway. It certainly wasn't coming from her, although it seemed to stop and start in between every breath Leidy took. She lifted her hands to her face, every inch of her skin tingling like she had been covered in fuzzy ants.

Her hands were paws. Black pads greeted her, orange-yellow fur poking between the thick, puffy skin swelling from her palms and fingertips. It was almost pretty. Her fingers seemed to be shrinking, although her fingernails had made their return in the form of sharp white claws. I'm a cat, she thought happily. I'm going to be a cat! Like Zorro. I like cats. Her claws continued to extend, longer and longer until with a feeling of absolute horror they simply fell from her fingertips entirely. The pretty yellow fur that began lengthening was falling out now, giving Leidy an unobscured view of her forearms thinning, the contours of her elbows now on display as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. She mewled piteously, trying to look at Sarah to ask for help, although she began to cough violently as several of her teeth broke free and threatened to slide down her throat.

Another scream joined with Leidy's now, the new voice shouting for help from the cage next to hers as the rat creature threw herself to the locked door and called for the guards. Long blonde hair was obscuring Leidy's vision, although it was falling out in clumps as Leidy brushed her trembling hands across her face.

Leidy started to ask Sarah to take care of Zorro before the breath left her lungs and the darkness took her away.

---

“She's not breathing!" The group watched the newer of the two subjects through the surveillance camera screen as she alternated between shaking the bars of her cage and gnawing on the hard steel with her long front teeth. Both actions were fruitless, of course, but necessary in their own way.

The Doctor's hand was on the doorknob. “Have your medic meet me in the test chamber. We need to get her into a portable ICU immediately.

Chambers looked confused. It was his favorite look. “Medic? ICU?"

“Chambers." The Doctor tried his best to keep his voice calm. “The subject is in danger of dying."

“And why does this matter? The formula didn't work on her anyway. Your rat showed much better results."

“She's a person," Luke whispered. “You help her because she's a person."

“She's a horror movie extra." Chambers looked back to the screen. The second subject--Sarah--was clinging to the bars with both her hands and feet, her tail wrapping around the door and tugging it desperately. The first--Leidy--was still motionless on the floor. “Or I guess it would be more accurate to say 'Was a horror movie extra.'"

“We can still learn something about what went wrong with the original formula." The Doctor was gritting his teeth. “I can still learn something. Alive or dead, but alive is preferable at this stage in the experiment. The medic, Mr. Chambers?"

Chambers shrugged. “There is no medic. Why the fuck would there be a medic? I'm paying enough for these grunts as it is."

“You are a fucking imbecile." If the Doctor expected Chambers to become angry at the insult he was disappointed. The portly man simply smiled, seemingly happy to be the cause of frustration. “I'll stabilize her myself." The Doctor flung open the door--

--and was greeted with the sight of two large, masked guards, M4 assault rifles brandished as they flanked either side of the doorway.

“No, you won't." The smile on Chambers face was the most punchable sight Luke had ever beheld.

---

The goon squad had finally arrived, four armed guards entering the room with the expediency of a funeral procession. They were as concerned about the human being dying on the floor as they seemed to be about everything else.

“Good, get the fuck in here!" Sarah screamed. She gestured toward Leidy's still form as if it were possible they hadn't noticed. “Br-Bring Doctor Fuckenstein back, or-or an ambulance or something."

However, instead of opening the door to Leidy's cell, they opened Sarah's.

“Wait, wrong door, bumblefucks! You need to help her!" One guard held the handcuffs towards Sarah as the other two procured their tasers. Silently, they advanced on the furious rat creature. “You have to be fucking kidding me." She crawled backwards on all fours, backing herself into a corner as she hissed, claws flexing as she prepared to defend herself. The gesture succeeded in causing the lead guard to hesitate for half a second before firing the taser, which connected with Sarah's furry shoulder. As she collapsed to the ground she let out a muffled squeak before the other two guards roughly grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her into the air and dragging her away.

“Get the freak in a box," the lead guard said as he rolled up the wires of his taser. “Boss has a buyer. Somebody else can pick up the body of the other one."

“Who the fuck wants to buy a rat with twelve nipples?" inquired another guard as he and his companion threw Sarah's arms over their shoulders and lifted her. Her pink, fleshy feet were kicking at her captors' legs, and one guard cursed as her claws must have found purchase. Even in this state, she was fighting.

“The fuck am I supposed to know? Some furry sex freak?"

Sarah mumbled something quietly as they dragged her into the hallway. It sounded almost like, “It wasn't supposed to be like this."

No, thought Leidy as she noticed that at some point she had begun breathing again. No, it wasn't.

Leidy raised a filthy hand in front of her face, turning it over again and again as her muscles seemed to slowly remember how to function. She was surprised to find that her entire body wasn't in agonizing pain. Instead, a sort of resigned calmness had infused her, causing her to wonder if she was crashing from an adrenaline rush.

Her claws scratched the floor as she tried to drag herself onto her belly. They seemed longer than she remembered, almost able to find purchase on the flat concrete floor. It wasn't until she had pushed herself into a half-sitting position that she noticed the flecks of hard keratin laying on the floor in front of and underneath her.

Oh, right. She'd grown claws. And then they'd fallen out. And apparently they'd …

Leidy lifted her hands to her face again, flexing her inch-long claws from her clear tube-like phalanxes. She ran her tongue across her teeth, marveling at the sharpness as they each lengthened into canines.

Or are they feline teeth? Do non-canine animals have canine teeth? It seemed rather presumptuous of the canines.

Leidy felt her ears sliding higher on her head, the thin peach-fuzz of hair that had regrown atop her scalp tickling them as they lengthened to points. Colors were so much more vivid now, the gray of the metal bars almost glittering as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Her fur was returning, rich golden hairs flowing from her forearms and shins. She giggled to herself as the hairs lengthened, flowing up her arms until her shoulders were enveloped in fur the color of sunshine from the World-Beyond. She was feeling almost giddy now, her earlier pains forgotten as her bone-thin limbs supported her easily as thick, lean muscle began to form underneath her shiny coat.

“Okay," she whispered, the first word she'd uttered after her rebirth. It wasn't particularly profound, but she supposed that it didn't need to be. She flexed her hands, fascinated as she watched her claws slide forward and back. A sharp pinching sensation momentarily caused her to groan as she felt the small nub extending from her tailbone begin to lengthen. Glancing over her shoulder she observed as it stretched longer for a few inches, although she was strangely disappointed when it ceased growing. It reminded her of the tail of a goat rather than …

Than a what? “Am I becoming a lion? Lions are cool," she mused. “Better than a--whoa." Leidy raised into a sitting position, bringing her handpaws to her nipples as they lengthened and swelled. There was a noticeable jiggle to her breasts as she lightly touched her swollen teats. She thought it may have just been her imagination until she pressed against her breasts only to feel them press back against her pawpads.

“Okay," she repeated. “Yeah, that's fine. You two go ahead. Just no more, yeah?" Her paws drifted lower, smiling as despite the thickness of her pads she could feel every individual strand of soft fur growing from her belly. Hard muscle greeted her hands the lower they drifted, the raised bumps of her abs clearly defined beneath the yellow-white fur. She felt herself growing wet as she continued pawing her swelling breasts with one paw while the other slipped between her legs.

She shouldn't. She really, really shouldn't. Her friend was in danger, and her newfound form wouldn't protect her from machine guns should the guards choose to return.

“Fuck it," she offered as a counterpoint to her worries before pressing one stubby finger inside herself. She'd never felt so wet, so empty, so needy. Her clit was swollen, begging for attention that she couldn't help but provide. She swayed her firm ass back and forth, again wishing she had a long tail to provide counterbalance.

A loud snap filled her sensitive ears as her feet began to stretch, much as Sarah's had not that long ago. As her ankle stretched further from her toes, the pain steadily increased, which only urged on Leidy's exploration of her slit. She growled harshly, her eyes widening as the sound caused her to tremble slightly. It was a low rumble, deep and menacing, a particular sound that the earth hadn't heard in eight thousand years. It felt … good. Right. Strong. Unrestrained. It didn't sound like something that would come from the frail little mistake she'd always considered herself, someone weak and pitiful even before she had been thrown in a cage for months. It sounded like it came from a different person. Someone capable, someone so sure of herself that the world would have to bend over backwards for her instead of the other way around.

It sounded like the real Leidy, making herself known for the first time in her life.

“I am Captain America."

She growled again, on purpose this time, although it soon turned into a rich, rumbling chuckle as she slid another finger into herself. She smiled, thirty jagged teeth flashing wetly before she licked her lips with a long, spiky tongue. Sweat was pouring from every pore now. She was growing larger, dozens of pounds of muscle pouring into her core, her arms, her legs. Thick fur now covered her body, every inch of her pale flesh suffused under golden hairs that felt warm and comforting. Her breasts were spilling from her palm now, swelling to the size of her head with seemingly no intention of stopping. Leidy forced herself to her rear paws, nearly tripping at the unfamiliar sensation of balancing herself on the balls of her feet. She leaned against the bars, slipping a third finger into herself even as she came, roars and growls erupting from her lungs as one orgasm swiftly flowed into another.

“Yessssh," she hissed as she continued playing with herself, her breasts finally ceasing the growth as they hung down to her lower ribcage, capped with teats the size of her old human thumbs. A strange tingling feeling of jealousy made itself known as she momentarily wondered if she hadn't missed out on having multiple pairs, but her solitary set seemed more than enough. She yowled like a cat in heat as her face pressed outward, her nose and mouth sliding forth with wet snaps as her skull reshaped into the boxy skull of a large feline predator.

With a monstrous roar, Leidy came again. She was losing herself now, in the pleasure and the pain and the loud drumming of her own heartbeat as her blood raced through her veins. Trying to remain in the moment, she leaned towards the bars, biting one of the rungs as she roared once again in feral ecstasy …

Only to find she couldn't pull her teeth away. “Ugh?" she slobbered as she tugged on the bars. Her teeth were wrapped around the steel bar, their scimitared curves and the length of her muzzle preventing her from pulling her jaw loose. “'Elloh?" For a moment, panic started to rise, steadily increasing as she felt a sharp pain from her largest canine--feline!--teeth as they grew.

And grew. And grew. And grew.

“Ohhhhh," Leidy moaned as the realization finally dawned. “Oowww ah geddit!" She laughed as she continued to tug at the two-inch thick bars. The steel bars that had imprisoned her for what had seemed like a lifetime. The bars that were now beginning to bend.

---

They were shoving her into a box, or at least they were trying to shove her into a box. The rat mutant struggled, slashing at the struggling arms of her oppressors as her legs and tail flayed about, trying desperately to fight against her imprisonment. One of the guards shrieked in pain and fury as she sank her long, blunt incisors into his hand. He tried to tug his hand away, but the rat creature's jaws were surprisingly strong. This only earned her the butt of a rifle against the back of her head. She fought through the pain, her vision obstructed by stars and tears. It wouldn't last much longer. She wouldn't be able to fight against them forever.

She didn't need to.

The door leading back to her cell simply exploded, the reinforced metal shrieking like a demon as it bent under the weight of the monster who emerged from the room it had been restrained in for so long. Too long.

---

Leidy relished the look of terror on each of the guards' faces as her paw connected with the first. Even with her new form, she was not the monster they assumed her to be. She kept her claws retracted as she slammed one guard into another before tossing them roughly to the ground. The third rounded on her, pulling a knife from his flak jacket and bringing it down towards her. In response, she slammed her muzzle into his forehead with the force of a battering ram. Leidy lifted him into the air even as she placed one paw and then the other on the other two prone guards, pinning them under 500 lbs of solid feline juggernaut. A smile formed on her muzzle, and she couldn't help but giggle. She had been afraid of this? Of them? Why?

The knife fell from his hand, and Leidy quickly snatched it in midair, bringing it to one foot-long tooth and snapping the steel in two as if it were a toothpick.

“L-Leidy?" Sarah's own look of terror slowly gave way to amazement. “Th-That's you?"

Leidy nodded as her claws slipped free. “I turned into a saber-toothed tiger after I died."

“Oh," Sarah responded simply. “Yeah, that makes sense."

Leidy opened her maw, teeth like daggers coming closer to his face as drool poured from her dangling tongue. He was so close now she could taste the sweat on his brow. The guard was shaking his head, pleading for his life as she slipped the claws into the fabric of his mask.

“Leidy, don't!" shrieked the rat woman.

But it was too late. She had wanted this for so long, and would not be denied.

The man screamed as she pulled back her arm, only to blink in confusion as he found his face was unharmed.

“That's it?!" Leidy roared. “THAT's what was under the mask?!" It wasn't a demon that had held her captive for so long. It was just a man. Just a boring, ordinary man. “You're not even cute!" Another headbutt and the fight was over. Leidy stepped off of the remaining guards, who were too busy trying to force air into their lungs to put up any further resistance. It was finished. Leidy was free.

The prehistoric monster extended a paw to her friend. “Come with me if you want to live." Her Arnold impersonation was terrible, but Sarah still laughed as she was helped to her feet. The moment was awkward, and only made more so when Leidy blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “Hi?" Not even turning into a prehistoric killing machine could keep Leidy from being Leidy.

“Hi," Sarah finally replied.

“This has been a weird day, huh?" Leidy shifted her foot-paws, kicking lightly at one of the boots of the near-unconscious men. “Do you think I could have a hug? I kinda … I kinda really need a hug right now."

Sarah laughed as she tried to wrap the much larger creature into a hug. It was only then that Leidy realized she must have grown several feet taller, now towering over her friend, her rodent muzzle only coming up to slightly above her hips. Sarah seemed to settle on wrapping her arms around Leidy's waist before the lioness suddenly lifted her into the air. It was the first time she'd been able to truly hug another person in months and she was going to take advantage of it.

“Can't … breathe?"

“Oh. Right." Leidy gave one more squeeze before dropping the rat creature back to the ground. “Sorry. I'm really freaking big now."

“All good," Sarah gasped.

“I really, really want to get the hell out of here. Can we get the hell out of here?"

“We absolutely can get the hell out of here." The rat mutant pointed with a long bony finger down the hallway behind them. “I think we need to go …"

The sound of boots greeted them as a dozen guards rounded the corner in the direction Sarah was pointing. The first few dropped to their knees before leveling their assault rifles at the escapees, giving their comrades behind them enough room to do the same. The cat and the rat were suddenly staring at their own firing squad.

“... the other way," Sarah finished. “Oh fuck." Leidy could smell fear emanating from her friend and wondered if she could smell it wafting off of her as well. It wasn't fair! She was free. She was going home. She was going to see Zorro.

“It's not fair." Leidy echoed her thoughts aloud. She wasn't surprised to find Sarah's paw slipping into her own, returning the gentle squeeze. “I guess that's it then." A dozen fingers wrapped around a dozen triggers. Leidy turned to Sarah and smiled. “I was gonna eat ice cream when we got out of here. Like, so much fucking ice cream."

Sarah started to reply before both of them recoiled with the deafening sound, not of gunfire, but of the blaring noise of a klaxon siren. Their world turned red as caution lights flashed.

The rat leaned forward. Against all rationale, she seemed suddenly relieved. What was going on? “Oh, thank God," she sighed. “About fucking time, bitch." The guards seemed just as confused as Leidy.

“What?" asked the tiger. “W-What's going on? What is it?"

Sarah flashed a buck-toothed smile at her saber-toothed friend as she answered simply, “Help."

---

The room turned the color of the sea after a shark attack. Klaxons reverberated from the corners of the room, assaulting Luke's ears. The Doctor was saying something, an odd smile on his lips. A taunt? A jest? Nothing could be heard over the relentless wailing, although both Luke and the Doctor were able to read the lips of their captor as he screamed “What?"

Suddenly the blaring stopped. The lights flickered momentarily before returning to their crimson hue. Something had cut the power to the alarm system.

“I said, 'It's finally here.'" The Doctor made an obvious show of cleaning his glasses on his coat before he simply tossed them on the floor as if he no longer needed them. Somehow, he looked less intimidating without them. He looked almost innocent, nonchalant, as if there was nothing more for him to worry about. As if whatever game he was playing had finished and now he could remove his mask.

Chambers's hand drifted to his sidearm. He nodded towards Luke and the two men outside, motioning for them to remain calm for the moment but ready should he give the command to fire. “What's finally here?"

The Doctor's eyebrows lifted, as if he was genuinely surprised that it wasn't obvious to Chambers. “Why, the plot resolution of course."

A chubby hand slid the pistol from its holster to lay flat onto the table as if he was prepared to play Russian roulette with a semi-automatic. “What the fuck are you talking about, Doctor?"

Further down the hallway, a thud resounded as something loud was tossed against something hard. For a single second, the sharp bark of machine gun fire hissed like a petulant child denied its favorite toy. Then it too was silent, followed by the terrified screams of men. Lucas and the rest of the hirelings were accustomed to standing unmoved amidst the horrors of war. Whatever was making them scream was beyond anything they could have been prepared for.

“She's here," the Doctor stated simply.

Chambers brought his hand to rest on the grip of his Glock 19, though he seemed reluctant to lift it. “Who, you skeevy bastard? Who?!"

A shrug. “Who do you think?"

Blood drained from Chambers's chipmunk cheeks as the realization must have dawned. Luke himself wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he was starting to have his suspicions. “What?! Why?!"

The building shook. An explosion from the east wing. That would have been the fuel reserves stored in the garage. There was enough diesel fuel there that it would've caused the entire garage to be destroyed. That meant the vehicles had been incinerated along with it. Whatever fate awaited them, there was no escaping it.

“You'll see," the Doctor finally answered.

The sheer indifference at last caused Chambers to snap. He stood, pointing his gun at the Doctor. If he had expected any sort of reaction other than infuriating amusement, he was going to be sorely disappointed. “Sergeant Lucas, I am ordering you to take this man into custody."

Luke raised a brow, his hands unmoving, his sidearm remaining snugly in its holster.

“I would advise against that, Mister Lucas." The Doctor seemed genuinely concerned. Not for himself, but for Luke. “That would be a big mistake." The gun was almost shaking in Chambers's grip. “As for you, you are aware that if you hurt me then she is going to kill you. Slowly, painfully, certainly--she will kill you."

“What makes you so sure she won't do the same to you?"

The Doctor chuckled. “She knows I don't have life insurance. Wouldn't be worth it."

The gun lowered an inch as the gears finally began turning inside Chamber's head. “Who the hell are you?"

There were shouts from down the hallway again, along with a noise that sounded suspiciously like the hiss of a cat. Luke assumed the feral sound came from whatever was causing the mayhem, but the roar that answered it was a dozen times louder. Something massive was coming closer, and there were no longer any guards between whatever it was and the room in which they stood. In the space of a few minutes, the finest trained PMC soldiers money could buy had been defeated. Luke hoped they also hadn't been killed.

The Doctor tossed his lanyard on the table, his various keycards discarded as useless plastic rectangles. “I always hated having to wear these things around my neck all the time." He paused before answering, “You really haven't figured it out yet?"

Nothing from the rotund man, not at first. And yet, slowly and surely the realization finally dawned. “No fucking way."

---

“This is the dumbest idea we've ever had," Mark muttered. “And we're us. Literally all of our ideas are dumb ideas. And yet this one? This one takes the cake. It takes the whole fucking dessert bar."

The shadowy figure was flickering in and out of existence now. The hologram must have been having trouble. Whether it was due to the approaching storm, general hardware issues, or some sort of communications blocking device in the facility, it did not fill Mark with the greatest assurance. “You'll be off the grid inside, so to speak. The fake references we've provided to Chambers will be enough to assuage any of his hesitations. That being said, the man was notoriously suspicious even before he was breaking international law. In the event he leans on you and doubts your credibility, you'll have to improvise." He smiled. A spider's toothless maw was more pleasant to look upon. “Luckily for us, you're not just posing as an insane geneticist gone rogue, you literally are an insane geneticist gone rogue."

“He's not the only one," Candice pouted as she crossed three pairs of arms. “Standing right over here, hello."

The building below was plain in the extreme, so unassuming that it was almost suspicious. A simple razor-wire fence surrounded what appeared to be a concrete building with a tin roof. No lights outside. No guards. For a military facility it didn't seem very secure, but in Mark's experience most of them weren't.

“That being said," the stranger continued, “make no mistake: You'll be alone inside."

Mark started to respond, but his wife did it for him. “No, he won't." One of Candice's arms slipped into his hand. He was mildly surprised to find it was one of the insectile appendages. Not the most comforting one, but the weight and sharpness of it helped him remember he couldn't ask for a better protector. “I'll be here. I'll know the second something is going wrong. Even if he discovers the deception, he's not going to … y'know." Four pairs of eyes looked at Mark sympathetically. “Not immediately. He'll want to know who you really are. That gives him like four seconds before I break inside and make him long for the days when his spine wasn't in my belly."

Not for the first time, Mark frowned at Candice's references to eating human beings. He knew she was joking. He hoped she was joking.

Instead, Mark did what he always did: Place the entirety of his trust in his better half. “You'll hear what's going on? Even through the walls?"

The chimera sneered at the doubt in his voice, her leonine-crocodilian lip curling up to reveal teeth the length of a soup can. “Of course I can. Hear. Smell. Almost taste." Her feline nose twitched like a witch from a 60s sitcom. “Seventeen rooms. One prisoner near the center of the facility, of course. The other should be coming down the road any minute now. Twenty guards. All male. Two are more than friends--much more than friends. No guard dogs, thankfully. I don't want to hurt doggies. Heavily armed given the oil and gunpowder." She gasped, head cocked to the side as if she heard something from another world. “Oh! And they have a vending machine with Triscuits. I didn't even know they sold those in vending machines. I'm robbing the shit out of that."

“That's great, but you're just going to lay low?" Mark was a natural worrier. Even if his wife wasn't the most apex predator in biological history, he'd still worry. “How? There's no pond for you to hang out in. What if they find you?"

“Psst!" The sound of indignation was accompanied by a spray of slobber. “Pssssssst!" Candice wiped a string of drool from her bottom lip, although this only replaced the saliva with slime. “As-fucking-if."

“You're right." Mark nodded, more for his own reassurance than his wife's. “You're right, you're right, you're right." He turned to the son of a bitch that had simultaneously ruined their lives and had made them more wonderful than he ever could have believed possible. “But about Chambers: How do you know he buys it? You're sure I'll just knock on the door and he'll be ready for me? 'Hiya, I heard you may be in the market for a mad scientist. Do you have dental?'"

Another infuriatingly certain smile. “We know. He's been looking forward to working with you ever since we sent over your fake 'resume'. He's not going to buy into it; he's already bought into it."

Mark blinked. “How the hell do you know that?"

“Come now, Dr. Clark. Must maintain some professional secrets." He nodded towards Candice. “Dr. Paul, I think it's time to take our leave." He started to pat Mark's shoulder before he seemed to remember he was a hologram. “You'll be fine. And you're going to save the life of a good person. I'm proud of you." He nodded and was suddenly gone, the hologram dissipating into nothingness. It was strange. Mark almost felt happy at the compliment, although it was more peculiar than inspiring.

“Thanks, Dad," Mark muttered sarcastically. Twin tentacles wrapped around his back, tugging him towards their owners. He had a change of clothes and some towels in the bag he had brought, and he'd make sure to wipe down before approaching the building. It wouldn't do to get caught immediately because they noticed his wife's mucus on him.

“Hey," Candiced whispered. “Hey you. C'mere." A long serpentine tail curled around his feet, giving him a step up to her eye level. Mark placed his arms on either side of the beautiful monstrosity that was his partner and love of his life. It would be a dangerous mission, but knowing that she was outside would make the days spent pretending to be someone he wasn't bearable. “I'm here," she whispered through 300 sharp teeth. “Every whisper? I'll hear it. Every step? I'll hear it. Every heartbeat? I'll hear it. I am seconds away."

“I know."

“Nobody threatens my goofy husband except for me." Her tongue hung from her lip in the expression she usually only reserved for guilt-tripping him into stealing tater tots for her.

“I know," Mark whispered.

Two feline arms gripped him tighter. There was nowhere he'd rather be, wedged between her weird cow udders, pressed against her weird pantherine torso, standing atop her weird snake tail. For all the wealth and scientific achievement he could've made in his life, nothing could compare to this moment--to any moment--he spent with her. Knowing she was nearby, that she was waiting for him, would sustain him through whatever dangers lay ahead.

Mark pressed his lips against hers, her long salamander's tongue slipping between his lips playfully as they broke apart with a laugh. “I love you," he whispered.

“I love you too. Now go be a hero." The chimera monster smiled, then gestured over her topmost shoulder with a long tentacle. “And then after all this is over we'll go fuck in those bushes."

--

“Here is what is going to happen now." Chambers brought his other hand to the pistol's grip in order to steady it. It was shaking so violently it threatened to slip from his hands. He seemed more comfortable ordering subordinates to point their guns rather than handling one on his own. “You're supposed to be a ghost," he monologued. “Fucker Carlson told me so. If you don't want to be one for real this time, you'll come with me. I'm taking you hostage until the freak backs down. She tries to kill me, I kill you."

Doctor Mark Clark frowned. He wasn't pleased with hearing his wife insulted. “Too late."

“Why?" A vein was standing out on Chambers's forehead. “Why is it too late, you insufferable horror of a human being?"

“Because now that you were dumb enough to threaten me out loud," Mark casually informed him, “she's already heard it."

Chambers lowered the gun for a moment, though he quickly took a step towards Mark, leveling the weapon against the doctor's forehead once again. “The fuck did you say?"

“She'll come from … Hmm, let's see." Mark looked up at the ceiling, over to the spiderwebs in the cornice, down to the boring cement walls he had grown very happy about not having to regularly see. “Any second now she'll come crashing through the wall, the ceiling, the floor. Maybe all three at once. She'll have torn your arm off before you can pull the trigger."

The lights suddenly returned to normal. It was the symbol that the alert was over and everything was okay. It most certainly wasn't.

Chambers's finger slipped onto the trigger. The look of amusement left Mark's face. What if he was wrong? What if she was off munching on Triscuits somewhere and wasn't listening? “Let's put that to the test, shall we?"

And then something happened that Mark couldn't have expected. Staff Sergeant Lucas Hicks finally brandished his own weapon, although rather than leveling it at Mark he pointed it at the head of his employer. “Let's not. Drop the fucking weapon."

Mark's jaw fell open. “Oookay? Now I'm confused, too."

“What is the meaning of this?!" Chambers roared. Mark had no doubt that the two guards behind him must be unsure whom exactly they should be pointing their own guns at. The diner scene from Pulp Fiction popped into his head--Samuel Jackson, John Travolta, and Tim Roth awkwardly unsure of who was supposed to shoot who.

“Well I'll be." Luke smiled. The man had an accent that Mark couldn't help but grow to like, a Southern drawl that was simultaneously comforting and endearing. Mark wondered if the accent suddenly became more pronounced now that he was dropping whatever role he had been performing over the past few months. “Reckon how many times in a person's life d'you think they honestly get to say those words? 'What is the meaning of this?' Can't be more than two, right? Even for boring Lex-Luthor-types such as yourself? Guess it's your turn." The look of betrayal on Chambers's face seemed to bring Lucas no small amount of joy. He must have been waiting for this moment for some time. “You're under arrest under the authority of the Army CIC for violations of the UCMJ. PLEASE resist arrest so that I can shoot you. I insist."

“Shoot them," ordered Chambers to the two guards standing by the door. Mark had almost forgotten they were there. “I don't even care about the money anymore. Just shoot them! Fucking shoot--"

And then one of the walls was suddenly gone, replaced by large crumbling blocks of concrete and plaster. Mark was snatched up by a tentacle while another knocked the two guards into the air, whereupon they were battered to the ground by a thirty-foot tail. The monster tore through the wall as if it were made of tissue paper, her teeth dripping with drool as she opened her maw wide enough to snap a deer in half. Her eight yellow eyes almost glowed in the fluorescent light of the room. Six wings spread like the reaper's own cloak, enveloping the entire room in a pall of darkness. Long scythes were poised to strike like twin cobras. Three inch claws unsheathed themselves, eager to tear her prey to pieces. And from her snout erupted a cry that sent fear into the hearts of all those gathered as she shook the very earth with a feral roar of--

“SUBURBAN COMMANDO!"

Mark let out his own roar, one borne of sheer amazement. “God DAMN it!"

“I FUCKING told you!" Candice cackled in triumph, her wings shaking with unfettered glee. “I FUCKING told you I'd think of it first!"

“God damn it," Mark repeated as she gingerly lifted him in one tentacle before setting him atop a more-or-less stable pile of rubble. She had one broad hoof placed on Chambers's chest, both mantis scythes poised above him, daring him to move. Sergeant Lucas was backing up against the far wall, hands in the air, trying his best not to scream. She always knew how to make an entrance.

“Hulk Hogan!" she elaborated. “Outer space bounty hunter. Working as a nanny. Nickelodeon-level slice of life nonsense. Suburban-fucking-Commando. I am the QUEEN of remembering obscure, shitty 90s movies, and you will bow before me!"

“You really are." Mark leaned towards her, the two sharing a quick kiss as he paid tribute. It had been entirely too long since he'd taken part in this insane mission, and her strangely mutated form was the happiest sight he could hope to see. “Hi, honey. Did you have fun smashing the secret military base?"

The monster shrugged nonchalantly. “It was okay." She nodded towards the cowering Sergeant Hicks. “Who's he?"

“I'm … not sure actually," Mark admitted. “Probably best to leave him conscious until we figure that out."

“T-Thanks?" Luke whispered as he dropped his pistol.

“You said you were going to dissect her," Chambers groaned. He seemed to be on the verge of fading into unconsciousness as a heavy hoof kept him from taking a full breath. “Said she was … perfect lifeform."

“Of course he did." Candice leaned forward as she flashed her shark-smile, hovering over Chambers so that several strings of drool landed on his pallid face. “He's a scientist. He's not an idiot. He knows I'd make him sleep on the couch if he didn't recognize my sheer fucking magnificence." She gave a small coo as Mark scratched her behind her fuzzy round ears. “We're a team, dumbass. We're Candice and Mark. We're … Candark." Her head cocked at an angle. “Markdice? Shit, baby, our names suck."

“Are we interrupting anything, you goofy bastards?" came a familiar voice.

Mark spun around to find the two former captives lingering just outside the door. The rat woman wore a smirk that may have indicated she knew more about what was going on than even Mark did. The lion creature seemed bewildered about every single person in the room, from the defeated orchestrator of her imprisonment, to Lucas now cowering on the floor. But she reserved a particular confusion towards the enormous chimera in the center of the ruin. Leidy's feline pupils encompassed the entirety of her eyes, her ears flattened, whiskers drooping as her mind seemed to be attempting to discern at which point her life had stopped making sense.

“You okay, gato?" The rat placed a pink paw on Leidy Mellick's shoulder.

“I-I-I used to be. I think?" She turned to address her fellow inmate, though her golden eyes seemed to be looking through her at nothing in particular. “I turned into a cat and then I beat some people up and then the big monster showed up. I think that's about when I lost track of the plot."

Mark stepped carefully over to Leidy, his feet barely finding purchase on the rubble. “Miss Mellick? I'm so, so sorry." He reached out to touch her large paw, though she pulled away instinctively. He couldn't blame her. She was likely unsure of who in this room of misfits she should trust. “We were sent to get you out of this place, but we couldn't arouse suspicion. I thought perhaps because you hadn't fully transformed there may have been some way to revert your changes, but … I'm afraid it's too late for that now. I'm so, so sorry."

“That's okay," Leidy mumbled, her gaze once again returning to Candice as she continued trying to figure out what it was she was looking at. “Being a catosaurus is kinda nice." She turned again to Mark. “You did all of this for me?"

Mark smiled and nodded. “You're worth it."

“And-And you're not evil? And-And neither is the monster … lady … thing? B-B-But … you turned Sarah into a rat." Leidy's face became hard as she turned to Mark again. Yellow-white fangs the length of his forearm flashed at him as she unsheathed her claws. “You turned her into a rat!"

The rat mutant slid between Mark and the 500 lbs of saber-toothed tiger that seemed fairly intent on skewering him. “Um … Nnnnnot exactly?" She smiled warmly before hopping towards his wife, squealing happily as if seeing an old friend.

Candice raised up for a moment to greet her fellow mutate as she wrapped her leonine arms around her in a friendly greeting. “Hi, Lydia."

“Hey bitch," Lydia made a soft squeaking noise as she returned the hug, her whiskers twitching as she smiled. “Fuck girl, why you so slimy?"

“Okay," Staff Sergeant Lukas whispered. “I'm confused, too."

“You be quiet," Candice growled, her teeth bared. “I'm still not sure if I'm supposed to skewer you yet."

“Lydia?" The saber-tooth rubbed her forehead in confusion, accidentally poking herself with her long talons. If his wife was any indicator, retractable claws took a while to get used to, but Mark knew she'd be up to the task. “Your name isn't …?"

The rat turned back to the cat. “I'm so sorry, Leidy. We used a fake name because we thought it better to not draw any attention. I do courier missions for a group that helps to take care of newly-transformed folks. You'll meet them soon. Sometimes the job means I have to run afoul of the law. Our fed contact always gets me out of trouble, but we were afraid my name may have made it around and he'd recognize me, especially when I got turned into a rat again." She used a knobby paw to brush a piece of fallen plaster off her furry shoulder. “Also because I'm like super famous."

“She's a rockstar," Candice agreed.

Lydia smiled at the chimera. “God damn right I am." She turned to Leidy.

“Um …" Leidy's feline irises seemed to dilate as she became even more confused. “What do you mean you 'got turned into a rat again'?"

Hesitation crossed Lydia's rodentine features as she reached out to take her paw into her own. The lionness seemed amiable to the gesture, even if she was still in a daze. “I used to be a rat mutant. For like a weekend. Volunteer scientific trial thingie. Lately I've wanted to become one again. I'm kind've weird like that. So I volunteered to be transformed to keep suspicion off of Mark. The formula that changed me was different from the ones other people were injected with. It involved also injecting me with nanomachines that forced my body back into human form when the trial was over. Our contact came up with a way to turn them on and off." She smiled. “Now I get to change back and forth whenever I want to! I've got an app on my phone that changes me into a boss-ass rat lady. I'm the world's first were-rat!"

Leidy seemed to have trouble smiling with teeth that extended to her collarbone, but she was certainly getting better at it. “Um … congratulations?"

“Thanks!"

“Your adopted pig daughter is going to fucking kill you," Candice interjected.

Lydia shrugged. “Yeah, probably."

“This is so unbelievably stupid," Chambers whispered.

“Your tie is stupid," Candice hissed. She pressed her hoof against the defeated wretch's chest a little harder, forcing the breath from his lungs. With a swipe faster than the eye could follow she sliced her mantis scythe towards his neck. Mark was horrified that she had impaled him for a moment until he realized she had only sliced his atrocious tie in two.

“Good that you like rats," Leidy chimed in, eager to distract the chimera from potentially devouring their captive. “You wouldn't have wanted to be like a werewolf or something?"

“Nah, what? Ew! Werewolves are lame," Lydia answered. “I feel like they'd be super assholes when they change back."

“Really?" Leidy kept smiling, her confusion slowly giving away to happy familiarity as she seemed to remember this was the same person she'd grown to be friends with over the past few days. If anything, the cat-woman seemed like she liked the real Lydia even more.

“Yeah, wouldn't it be super awkward? Like, what, seventy-year-old Grandma Werewolf is going to ask you if you want cookies and a Mountain Dew after you and your werewolf-buddies just mauled a hiker to death the night before? And then you'd just sit in the living room across from everyone like it's no big deal? Like what the fuck do you even say? 'Soooo, weird weather lately, huh?' 'Yup.' 'Any of you guys like football?' 'No.' 'Oh …'"

Leidy laughed. “I think the look suits you. It's kinda hot."

A squeak of delight was the only response Lydia had time for, as Candice chose that moment to let out a roar that startled everyone in the room. She concluded the chorus with a shout of, “Jesus Fucking Christ!"

“Baby?"

The chimera turned to her husband, an exhausted look on her face. “Why does this shit have to be so complicated lately?! I miss when it was just, 'Oopsie, I got some goo spilled on me, now I'm a walrus.'"

“That's … actually a good point," Lydia added.

“And then I always have to show up and save the day!"

“I help," Mark muttered sadly. “Sometimes. Kind of."

“S-So, all of this … this whole rescue thing …" Leidy leaned against the wall. A nap seemed to be in her future. “Who was the ringleader for all of this?"

“That would be me," came a voice from behind them. Their shady benefactor had finally made his appearance, slipping past Lydia and Leidy as if half-human animal monsters were just another part of his normal 9-to-5.

“See?!" Candice motioned towards the new arrival with a slimy tentacle as if his presence just reinforced her tirade. “And now this now?! Who's next? Is Batman behind you? Is there a line of surprise character reveals back there?"

“You son of a bitch!" Chambers struggled fruitlessly as the old man approached, attempting to push Candice's heavy hoof from his chest. “You set me up! I'll sue you for this! I'll kill you for this! I-I'll--"

The spooky bastard pushed the remains of Chambers's tie aside with a shoe that probably cost more than Mark's former salary. “You'll do nothing." He shook his head. “Hello, Newton. Good to see you haven't changed. Like a child throwing a tantrum: Sound and fury signifying you need a diaper change."

Candice suddenly bolted upright. She must have noticed the same thing as Mark--that the orchestrator of this ridiculous plot had carefully stepped around the rubble, almost as if he were physically present for once. “Wait! You aren't doing the hologram thing!"

He shook his head. “Not this time, no. There are factors at play today that necessitated my direct involvem--"

The words died in his mouth as Candice stuck out her tongue, blowing a raspberry at the man, several feet of her long tongue waving in the air back and forth as he was swiftly covered in a combination of slime, drool, and mucus over the course of the next ten seconds. He remained still and patient throughout the ordeal until Candice ran out of breath and the expectorant slowed to a drizzle.

When the display was finally finished, he pulled an expensive handkerchief from his pocket and attempted to wipe his face, though it was entirely pointless. He might as well have tried to soak up the Nile River with a hand towel.

Candice's eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolling in the back of her head in sheer ecstasy. “Oh fuck, I think I just came a little bit. Nevermind what I said. This is the best day ever. Baby, do we have any cigarettes?"

Their benefactor seemed to realize his handkerchief was woefully unprepared for its task and tossed it onto the ground. “That's … actually a better outcome than I was expecting."

Mark nodded towards Chambers. “So what do we do with him?"

“I could eat him," Candice offered.

“What is it with you and eating people lately?"

“It's not cannibalism if I eat people," Candice whined. “I'm not a people."

“I would like to be arrested now," Chambers chimed in. “Please? I'd actually really appreciate being thrown in a cell and away from these two. Thank you."

“Are they always like that?" Leidy whispered to Lydia as she nodded towards the couple.

“You have no idea," she groaned.

“Should we take him and all of the guards back to the donkey?" Candice proposed. “Maybe she can turn them into roaches? Roaches don't talk."

Mark again found himself scratching behind his wife's round ears. It was an automatic gesture, and one she always seemed to enjoy. “Too mean."

“There's a donkey too?" Leidy inquired.

Lydia shook her head. “Yeah. Yeah, there's a donkey, too."

Leidy shrugged. “Donkeys are cute."

“How about turning them into bunnies then?" Candice proposed. “Bunnies don't talk either."

“Bunnies are lame." Mark's eyes widened as he grit his teeth. “Oh shit."

“What?"

“You're not part bunny, are you? I didn't mean that if you are."

“No, sweetheart, but that's nice of you to ask."

“If I may interject." Even the government spook was getting annoyed at the banter at this point. “Sergeant Lucas and I will take them into custody. I have plans for them that will render the chances of them speaking about this enterprise to less than zero."

Luke started to climb to his feet, even accepting a hand-up from Candice's proffered tentacle. “Thanks."

“You're his?" she asked the soldier.

“Sergeant Lucas is under my direct supervision, yes." The old man motioned for Candice to pull her hoof away as he helped Luke pull Chambers to his feet before the soldier restrained his hands with a zip tie. “He was spying on this whole affair for me before this little plan started to form. All of you will become very familiar with him over the next few years."

This seemed to surprise everyone in the room, including Luke. “Wow, that doesn't sound ominous at all," Lydia muttered. “He's not taking my van."

Chambers stopped just shy of the threshold as Lucas was ushering him from the room. “There is no way they'll be able to keep me hidden away forever. I will find you and I will end you. Count on it."

Lydia made a masturbatory gesture indicating that she was very much unafraid of the threat as he was ushered out of the room. “And people think I'm weird for not wanting to be a human being."

“If the two of you would give us a moment?" The old man nodded towards Lydia and Leidy.

Leidy hopped out of the room and helped Lydia step safely across the rubble, hissing lowly at the two unconscious guards as she did.

The strange man snapped his fingers as if just remembering something. “Ah, I almost forgot. Ms. Mellick, there's a van parked just outside the main door. There's a carrier in the back containing someone you should be very happy to see. You may want to spend some time letting him acclimate to your new--"

“Zorro?!" The lion picked her rat friend up and slung her over her broad shoulders. She was gone in a flash, the loud banging of a steel door down the hallway signifying their departure. Two laughing voices followed the pair, one filled with the sheer joy of being free after so long in captivity.

“Well!" The stranger turned to leave. “I suppose that's it, then. I suppose we'd better get going. It's a long drive to Utah. Dr. Paul, I have an air conditioned trailer that you can make use of for the trip."

“Utah?!" Mark raised a brow. “Wait, we're ... we're going to the clinic?"

The man was no less suspicious for having demonstrated he still possessed a shred of humanity. “Yes."

“Why?"

“Why do you think, baby?" Candice shook her head. “More mutant monster bullshit. It's always more mutant monster bullshit."