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No Laughing Matter

By LeCount

A Commission for Darius Whitefur

James collapsed the final cardboard box and placed it neatly in the corner of the living room. He pushed up his glasses and walked over to the couch and dropped his body onto it, relishing the feel of the cool material against his sweaty skin. He brushed the brown hair out of his face and rubbed his eyes. "Stupid Arianna," he grumbled, "first she interrupts our housewarming, then she steals Will, and then she leaves me to unpack everything by myself."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time--it was barely even noon. He rolled over and stuffed his face into the couch cushion and let out a loud, aggravated yell. He and Will were supposed to go explore the new city today; see the sights, maybe try one of the local restaurants, basically just get all the touristy stuff out of the way before their new jobs started up tomorrow, and yet here he was, all alone.

"Fuck it." He got to his feet and grabbed the rental car keys off where he had thrown them on the small coffee table. "I don't need Will to have fun. I'll go explore by myself. I'll show him who has delicate sensibilities."

***

The sun was beginning to set over the Cairo skyline. James wandered through the streets of downtown Cairo, occasionally stopping and pulling his phone out to stare at the map on the screen. After a pretty good day walking around some tourist areas, he found himself here and despite how much he was trying to convince himself otherwise, he was completely and hopelessly lost.

"How hard can it be to find the parking garage?" He muttered to himself. "Apparently impossible even with a piece of technology that's probably worth more than me. Useless piece of crap." He stuffed it back into his pocket and looked around. Nothing looked familiar. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he admonished himself, "What were you thinking going out on your own like this?"

He pulled out his phone again and tried desperately to recall the name of the building where the car was one last time and nearly dropped the phone when he finally got a match this time. He hurriedly clicked on the link and pulled the map up. The excitement quickly died when he saw that the building he was looking for was about a block away. He had been going in the entirely wrong direction this entire time.

And yet...

He looked at the alleyway to his left. Theoretically he could cut through it and make it back to his car way faster. On one hand, it was a terrible idea. Walking through a dark alley at night would be risky even if it wasn't in a city that was entirely foreign to him. But, if it worked out, he would cut like thirty minutes off his walking time. Probably. He couldn't actually see the end of the alley since it turned a couple yards down. But still, probably faster. Yeah. He could do this. He took a deep breath and walked down the alley.

Several minutes passed as he followed the winding side-street. It seemed to still be taking him in roughly the right direction. His hopes skyrocketed as he heard the sound of people talking and activity. That had to be the sound of a main street.

"Suck it, Will." He thought to himself.

"Then he stepped out into the dimly lit plaza full of what appeared to be smugglers of some sort.

Or at least that's what he assumed they were since a couple of them were standing by a large wooden crate, holding what appeared to be priceless relics and talking quietly.

His suspicions were quickly confirmed when he heard somebody walk up behind him and felt the sharp, cold metal blade of a knife pressed up against his throat.

"Well, well. What have we here?" He heard a heavily French accented voice whisper behind him before raising his voice to get the others' attention, "looks like a tourist stumbled into the middle of our little operation. So, boss, what say we get rid of him right now before he goes and snitches to the police?"

One of the people looking at the relics turned and began to walk towards James. "Now, now, Marco. Careful with that blade now. Blood leaves evidence you know and evidence leads to pesky little things like jail time and we don't want that now, do we?" His voice was a quiet hiss still in the same accent as the man that held James, Marco, had.

James let out a small sigh of relief as he felt the blade removed from against his throat. Relief that was quickly lost when he instead felt strong hands grab both his arms.

"Fine, what should we do with him then?"

"Why do you think we brought dear, little Blanch with us?" He gestured into the darkness and James watched as a young woman with unnaturally white hair and blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light came out of the shadows--in fact, it almost looked like the darkness melted off of her.

She walked over to the man and wrapped a skeletally thin arm around him. "What do you need me for, Ames?" Her voice was light like the tinkling melody of a music box playing. She turned and looked at James. "Really? Oh, are you sure. He look so young and innocent. It would be such a shame to alter somebody like him. Can't I just wipe his memories or something?"

He turned and looked at her, his eyes harsh. "You know what we agreed on. Your family owes us and you know what will happen if you don't pay your debts."

She sighed and looked down. "Fine." She walked over to James and grabbed his arm. "Marco, you can let go now. If you're touching him, this might affect you too."

He felt the strong hands release him. This was his chance. The girl couldn't be that strong. All he had to do was break out of her grasp when he had a chance and run.

"Sorry, dear." He heard her whisper in his ear, "I'll try to make this as pleasant as possible for you." Then she began to chant.

The shadows seemed to stretch around them blanketing them in darkness as her voice changed from the pleasant melody to something closer to the shattering of glass as harsh syllables flew from her lips.

A strange tingling sensation began to creep up Jame's arm from where she was holding him. He felt dizzy and it was starting to become hard to think. He looked down and saw the darkness beginning to wrap around his feet. He had to run but it felt so pleasant. A voice was whispering in his head to stay, to close his eyes, to give in. Embrace the shadows. Embrace the void. Embrace...

He forced those thoughts back. No. He wasn't going to give up. He yanked his arm out of the woman's grasp. As he did the tingling suddenly stopped and the shadows wavered revealing the dark plaza once more. He heard a small gasp and a thud as she fell to the ground behind him.

He ran. Everyone else appeared to be either too shocked or still in some kind of thrall to... whatever had just happened to stop him. After a few seconds he heard a scuffling behind him; footsteps trying to chase after him, but he pushed himself to run as hard and as fast as he could. He could hear the chanting again and shadows began to try to grab at him.

Then he burst out into the street, the harsh white light of the lamps lining the road banishing any and all darkness.

Panting, he looked back into the alleyway. Or, at least, he thought it was an alleyway. He found himself looking at a solid wall. He walked up and touched it. It was solid.

"What?" He pushed on it harder. Then he noticed the people around him starting to stare at the man lovingly caressing a wall. He blushed and backed away from the wall before turning and starting the long walk back to his car.

Back in the alleyway, Ames stood, his hand wrapped roughly around Blanch's arm. "You stupid girl," he hissed, his voice low and full of menace, "do you know what you've done. He knows our names. If he goes to the police..."

"Let go of me, you pig. Besides, you don't have to worry about that." Her voice was cold. She yanked her hand away from the man and turned, walking into the shadows that seemed to rise up around her, swallowing her. Before long she had disappeared entirely into the darkness, but her voice echoed out of the black void. "The magic still took effect. He won't remember any of this in a few minutes. And besides after that wears off, he won't be in any state to testify in any court."

***

James shut the apartment door behind him. He leaned up against it and sighed. No more stupid, spiteful ideas. Ever.

"Hey, you're back! Have fun?" He heard Will yell out from the living room.

"Yeah, yeah. It was great."

"If you're hungry, Arianna bought us some burgers. They're in the fridge." Will yelled out again. It sounded like his mouth was half full of one of said burgers.

"Thanks." James wasn't terribly hungry after everything, but he turned into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge anyway. He pulled one of the lukewarm burgers out of a bag and set it in the microwave and waited for thirty seconds while it reheated.

"So, did you go anywhere fun?"

James tried to recall what had happened, but found himself having a hard time remembering. His memories of the night were blurry. He vaguely remembered getting lost, but that was it. A sense of vertigo washed over him as he attempted to recall anything.

Then he lost his train of thought and jumped as Will walked into the room.

"Not really. Just got lost."

He laughed, "Doesn't surprise me. Your sense of direction is terrible."

James slapped him on the shoulder. "Hush you. Anyway, how did your day go? Arianna give you trouble?"

Will leaned up against the wall and groaned. "No. My day was... it was okay. I kinda fucked up to be honest. Almost dropped a priceless relic at the dig-site. Caught it in time but it still wasn't good."

"Oof, that's rough." James grabbed his burger out of the microwave and stuffed it in his mouth. It was... oddly more delicious than he was expecting. Usually he didn't care much for burgers at the best of times, but this one was definitely satisfying a craving he did not expect. "Anyway," he choked out through a mouthful of ground beef, "you didn't break it and that's what's important. Besides, they'd be dumb to kick you off the team. You're the best." He reached over and kissed Will.

He grimaced and wiped the burger residue off his cheek. "Thanks. I'm going to head to bed now. See you in a bit."

"Love ya!"

***

James stood in the middle of a vast field. The sky above stretched as far as the eye could see, the stars and moon glittering bright above. A soft, warm wind blew across his face as he breathed in the scent of the savanna. Of in the distance he could hear other of his kind, hunting just like he was.

The wind shifted and a new scent filled his nostrils. He turned and spotted the form of a lone young animal off in the distance.

He opened his mouth and let out a loud sound--almost a cackling whoop and then sprinted towards the creatures. The wind rushed through his hair as he ran closer and closer to the creature.

He was already upon it by the time it noticed him. He jumped and bit into its throat, warm blood gushing out of the wound. It let out a dying squeal as it fell to the ground. He tore into the fresh meat, savoring the flavor of the beast's flesh and bone upon his tongue.

***

James woke up. It was still dark out, though out the window he could see soft rays of light were beginning to creep over the horizon. He shook his head. What had that dream been? He'd never had any quite that vivid before--he could still see almost every detail perfectly in his mind's eye.

It had to be a combination of the jet lag and stress he assured himself. Lack of sleep, moving to a new continent--those things would mess with somebody's head for sure.

He felt his boyfriend stir next to him and groan in his sleep. James rolled over in the bed and watched Will in his sleep. Will was grimacing, his breath coming fast and hard like his was running. Sweat covered his face and his hair was slick. James watched as he let out a small gasp and stopped breathing for moment.

That moment continued.

And continued.

And continued.

Finally, James decided something was wrong. He reached over and touched Will's arm.

Will's eyes flew open and his hand jerked upwards, wrapping around Jame's arm, the nails digging into his skin and tearing at the flesh. He let out a yelp of pain and tore his arm away from Will's grasp.

"What the hell?" He wrapped his other hand around the wound, but the blood still flowed around his fingers, droplets falling onto the bed and staining the sheets red.

Will looked up at him, horror dawning on his face a he realized what he had done. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He tried to get out of bed, but his legs were wrapped up in the blankets and he fell to the floor. "I'll go get you some bandages," he shouted up at James. He watched as Will struggled for a moment to disentangle himself from the sheets cocooning him before he leaped up and dashed out the door.

James sat in the quiet dark for a moment--the metallic tangy smell of blood saturating the air. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and licked his lips. A tiny voice in the back of his mind couldn't stop thinking about how wonderful it smelled--nearly better than the burger he'd eaten for dinner had.

He was startled, causing these thoughts to be promptly forgotten as Will barged back into the room, panting and holding a towel and bandages in his hands.

He quickly walked over to James and sat down on the bed. "Here, I've got you. Let me see."

James removed his bloodstained hand. Long gouges ran down his arm. He saw Will flinch as he looked at the wounds. Then, he steadied himself and began to dab the excess blood off with the towel.

James noticed the guilt written on his face as he gingerly placed the bandages over the scratches and spoke up, "hey, this isn't your fault. Just want you to know that."

"I did this. Of course it's my fault."

James frowned. "No, you were having some kind of nightmare. You'd been restless all night and usually when you're sleeping like that I cuddle you and that helps but tonight whatever you were dreaming about really got to you." He looked over and placed his hand on top of Will's. Do you remember what it was?"

He watched as Will closed his eyes and thought. "All I can remember is this.. Endless darkness swirling around me... And the feeling like I was about to die."

"Ouch, that sounds rough." James reached over and wrapped his now bandaged arm around Will. "Wanna try to get some more sleep before we have to get up or would you rather I go make up some coffee?"

Will practically threw the blankets back up on the bed, turned the light off once more, hopped into the bed, and wrapped his covers around himself. "Night love." He heard Will murmur before snoring quickly followed.

James lay in bed for a few moments before getting up as softly and quietly as possible. He walked out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He walked to the kitchen and started tossed a pod into their coffee machine. He stood in silence while it brewed.

He was glad Will was able to go back to sleep, even if he wasn't. He chuckled quietly thinking about how cute his boyfriend could be.

A sudden wave of vertigo washed over James. He stumbled and placed a hand on the counter-top to steady himself. After a moment, the feeling faded and the coffee machine finished its brewing with a squealing choking gasp of a sound. He brushed the feeling off hoping he wasn't getting sick. It was his first day at a new job and there was no way he could miss it.

***

James dropped the stack of papers on top of his desk and collapsed into his chair. He only had two classes to teach this semester with only six or seven students in each, as a fill-in for another professor that had to take leave for a major illness, both of which were just basic overviews of British Literature from the Medieval to Modern Era; but, they also looked like they were going to be a major handful. Thankfully, or possibly, regrettable the leaving professor left a very detailed lesson plan that covered the entire semester. He'd had a bit of time to look over it while he was at work today, but... well, it was very packed. There was almost no time for deviation or rest--though he had been kind enough to include a period of rest for today at least so James could get to know his students a little.

So here he sat, at his desk, staring at the little questionnaire papers he had passed out at the start of both classes as he desperately tried to remember names in regards to faces.

Then a loud snore echoed out from Will's office and interrupted James' train of thought. James sighed and got up from his desk. His heart really hadn't been in it anyway. He walked over to the couch, sat, and pulled up Netflix. Maybe he should watch a movie to unwind. De-stress after the last couple of days. Something funny. It definitely sounded like a good plan.

After a few minutes of searching for something suitable he decided on a movie and settled down. For the most part, the movie was nothing remarkable. He chuckled a couple of times in the first hour, but nothing really gripped him.

Oddly enough, the vertigo from the night before came back though. He laid down on the couch and continued to watch his movie again.

Finally, at around the hour thirty mark, a joke hit its mark and he began to cackle wildly. Tears streamed from his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. Suddenly, the world seemed to lose focus entirely and he fell forward off the couch. He tried to catch himself on the coffee table but failed and pushed the table over instead. The world spun around him as he struggled to remain conscious. He felt a strange tingle and looked down at his hand. Brown fur was sprouting from his skin as his fingernails blackened and began to lengthen. He swayed one last time and passed out.

***

James startled awake on the couch. The credits of his movie were just beginning to roll as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up.

"Christ," he muttered, "what is up with these dreams?"

He groaned as he looked at the time. "Shit. I should probably start dinner and wake him up." He stood up and looked down at the table for a moment. It was still in the same place it had been earlier. That means it had to be a dream, right? But damn, it had been so vivid. He looked down at his hands. They looked normal. His nails were slightly long but that was just because he hadn't clipped them since before they had moved. As he stood and turned everything off before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner, he failed to notice the slight point that had formed on his ears or the stubble that had grown across his normally clean-shaven face.

***

James awoke the next day after what had thankfully been a dreamless slumber. He rolled over--the bed was empty. Will had probably already gotten up after having gone to sleep so early the night before. James groaned and rolled back to look at the clock. He had an hour before he had to leave for work--just enough time to take a shower and eat breakfast, which he should do. Even if staying in bed sounded better. Thankfully he didn't have to teach class today. He had a quick meeting with the head of his department, but beyond that he just had to sit in the tiny office they'd given him and plan for tomorrow.

He sighed and got up and started going about his morning routine.

Once in the bathroom, he noticed the excessive amount of hair on his face. "Weird. Usually don't have to shave that often." He shrugged and hurriedly cleaned it off. He had to be presentable after all. After that he quickly made up a breakfast of eggs and sausage. Usually he would've included some kind of fruit in his morning meal, but for some reason it just didn't sound appealing today. The sausage, however, was amazing.

After that he went about his day. It was mostly normal. Everything seemed a bit too much. Smells were too harsh, sounds were too loud, the lights were too bright, etc. But beyond that, his day was pretty normal. Still, he couldn't help but think of the strange dreams he had been having. They stuck in his mind throughout the day refusing to leave.

That night he went home. Will was in his office and when he asked if he wanted dinner he got a gruff reply in the negative. He made himself up some more of the sausages from that morning and scarfed them down while watching a bit of television. He did one more review of his lesson plan for his first class tomorrow and then headed to bed.

He tossed and turned for a long time, afraid of what he might possibly dream tonight, but when he finally fell asleep, his slumber was dark and dreamless.

***

The next day continued in much the same manner. Will had been locking himself in his office for the most part. He was killing himself trying to decipher those relics they'd found. He hadn't even come out for dinner the night before and James was starting to worry. He was also worried about himself. The strange dreams had continued and he was starting to worry that maybe he was having some kind of stress related breakdown.

Teaching his first actual class helped calm him down a little though. They were just starting to cover the Restoration period of British literature and it was a period he found himself to be just slightly fond of. It also helped that the students in his class genuinely seemed to be interested in the subject matter, though it wasn't too shocking considering it wasn't a required class in any way.

When he got home, he found Will still locked inside his office.

"You okay in there?" He yelled through the door, worried about his boyfriend.

"I'm fine, just busy."

"I... okay. Well, listen, if you need anything, you can tell me..."

"I know. Gotta work."

James turned and walked away. He went about his night lonely, wanting to get some kind of comfort from his boyfriend. They hadn't had any kind of significant conversation since they moved here and he was missing his companion. He knew this new job was important but still. He felt abandoned.

After a few hours of half-heartedly watching television, he headed to bed once more.

***

Once again James found himself on the vast plains. The savanna stretched far ahead of him. He could hear the sound of a pack of animals off in the distance, but in front of him sat the remains of a carcass--a far easier meal, though it was nothing quite as grand as the fresh young one the pack had feasted on a few nights ago. He moved over as another of his pack scooted in next to him to feast on the meat.

He looked over at the hyena next to him. A female, judging from the scent. She had superiority, so he scooted further and gave her the best parts of the animal--he resigned himself to the more decayed bits.

Still, a sense of peace washed through him as he looked up at the night sky, stars shining above him as gore dripped down from his mouth. This was where he belonged--the pack beside him.

***

James awoke with the taste of blood and decay in his mouth. He lay in bed for a few minutes before he heard the sound of Will's office door opening and footsteps heading towards the kitchen. This was his chance. He hopped out of bed and rushed after Will.

He found him standing in the kitchen, searching through the cupboards for food. His hair was black rather than the blonde it had been last time James had seen him.

"When did you dye your hair?"

Will jumped at the unexpected voice behind him and turned to face James.

"Uh, a few days ago. I decided it was time for a change."

"Okay, and you've been avoiding me, why?"

"I haven't." He looked nervous and started trying to edge his way around to the exit. "I've just been busy. This works been harder than I expected is all."

James sighed. "But you still could spend time with me."

"Listen. I... I know but... I just..."

"You what?"

"I can't talk about it right now."

"Of course you can't"

"Sorry." He pushed past James and started to walk back to his office. "Gotta get back to work. See you later."

James scoffed. "I doubt it." He whispered.

***

The next day, James stood behind the podium at the front of the classroom. The six students in the class had all filed in alongside him after the last class had dismissed and how he was just waiting for them to pull out their supplies while he stared down at the lesson plan for the day. They would spend the hour covering John Wilmot.

"Now, I hope everyone read the poem and play excerpt you were supposed to last night?"

A small round of half-hearted agreement, coupled with some chuckling was their response.

"Right, so, let's talk about Wilmot-Second Earl of Rochester." He turned to the chalk board and began to write. "Now, first of all, he was born on the first of April in 1647 and died on twenty-sixth of July in 1680 at the tender age of thirty-three, presumably of syphilis, which places him pretty squarely in the Restoration Era of British Literature. This, coupled along with the fact that he was kicked out of court of Charles the second several times in this short period of time along with the play you read an excerpt about him last night should tell you a lot about his temperament. Putting it lightly, one would say he was lavish. If you take into account he named a character 'Clitoris' then you might wish to go with the descriptor 'debauched.' Now, that isn't to say, he didn't write a few more serious poems, such as The Platonic Lady, however he is far more known for his satires. Now, one of those most interesting facets of his life, which I touched upon for a moment earlier, was his relationship both with the king and the surrounding court. Many of his contemporaries, such as Charles Sackville or the playwright Wycherly, held great respect for him. The King, however, kicked him out of court on numerous occasions or he was forced to flee, most famously when he accidentally handed Charles the Second the poem 'A Satyre on Charles II.'

He turned and walked back over to the podium. Now, today in class I'm going to have us read one of his more well-known satire poems, 'The Imperfect Enjoyment' out of our textbook. Pay close attention to the style and meter since we'll be discussing it afterward along with dissecting the meaning of the poem and how both it and Wilmot relate in regards to the rest of the Restoration era. Now, Miranda, you can start by reading the first stanza. Bakari-second, Mira-third, Amit-fourth."

He listened as Miranda started to read through the poem out of their textbook. As they started off, a few of the students chuckled and she had to pause of few times in shock at what she was reading.

"In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'er,

Melt into sperm and, and spend at every pore." She stopped after that as the entire room erupted into a chorus of giggling.

James had to let out a small chuckle at everyone's reaction. He always enjoyed seeing people's first experience with Wilmot's work. The man certainly had a way with words that lasted even to this day.

He tried to stop chuckling but found that he couldn't. Instead, it got louder and louder growing quickly into a full blown laugh.

Tears started to stream down his face as he gripped the podium tightly. He could feel his students staring at him and heard a few worried whispers about the fact that their teacher seemed to be having a small breakdown in the middle of class. He gripped the podium tighter, the wood actually groaning beneath his hands, as the vertigo returned once more. He watched as his hands began to tremble and shake. With mounting nausea, he watched as the bones and muscles began to visibly shift underneath the skin, his hands slowly morphing into paws. His fingernails began to push out once more, turning black and sharpening, cutting deep grooves into the wood he was gripping. By this point the laughter had intensified to a loud whooping. He felt a strange pressure at the bottom of his spine and knew that it had to be some kind of tail forming.

He was so focused on these sensations that he didn't feel his ears beginning to stretch once more, a thin layer of hair starting to grow across them; nor did he feel his teeth begin to lengthen and sharpen in his mouth.

Then, everything suddenly went black and he collapsed behind the podium. It only took a moment for him to return to full consciousness, and he heard several of his students quickly getting up, presumably to make sure their professor wasn't dead or something. He quickly examined his hands, they were mostly normal once more, except this time his nails had remained sharp and black. He hurriedly adjusted his stance so they were mostly hidden by his legs as the first of his students reached him.

"Professor Bryce, are you okay?" Amit crouched down next to him.

"I.. I'm fine," he managed to choke out, his voice unusually rough and gravelly as if the laughter had physically harmed his vocal cords. "But, I think I'm going to cancel the rest of class. You all may go home."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" He heard Miranda ask.

"Yes, yes. I think it's just stress from my move. Gonna visit a doctor tomorrow and be sure though."

"If you say so."

He heard his students pack up their stuff and leave the room. After they left he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called up the department head, quickly explaining that he had gotten ill during class and that he would have to call in sick for the rest of today as well as tomorrow. The head sounded vaguely disappointed but also couldn't really say no to his request.

After he hung up the phone, James quickly took stock of himself as well as the podium. He had already seen his hands had retained some of their altered state. He reached back and felt the skin above his butt. A small nub was still extending out from his spine, and it moved as he touched it. Next he reached up and examined his ears--they had gotten even more pointed, and he felt even more stubble on his face as his hands slid down his cheeks.

Then there were the deep gouges torn into the top of the podium. Those were still there. Those were real.

He wasn't going crazy.

He was turning into some kind of creature.

He remembered the encounter in the alleyway and the woman.

All his memories came rushing back to him of that night all at once.

How had he forgotten that?

Had she actually used magic on him?

"FUCK!" He yelled and kicked the wall. He had no idea what to do. It appeared the trigger to his change was laughter of any kind. Especially after what had just happened today, but it was getting harder to control. If any little thing set him off, that could be the end. Goodbye James, hello...whatever it was he was becoming. He had to get home. If he could just barricade himself in his house, maybe he could find some kind of solution or something on the internet. At the very least he could limit his exposure to any kind of trigger for laughter.

He quickly gathered up his stuff and left.

***

James knocked on the door of Will's office. He hadn't seen his boyfriend since he had asked him about the hair, and after yesterday's experience during his class, James knew he needed to get some help.

"What is it?" He heard his boyfriends voice answer--though it seemed somewhat deeper than he was used to.

"Do either you or Arianna know anyone at the university who might know something about African religious rites, magic, gods, that kinda thing?"

"I don't but I can ask Arianna later. Why, is something up?"

"No, no. I'm good. Just, uh, found some references to that kind of thing in some works I'm studying and wanted to ask an expert about them."

"Okay, well, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

James turned and walked into the bedroom. He lay down on the cool blankets and tried to relax. Everything would be fine.

He chuckled. He was probably just over-reacting. The chuckled grew into a laugh. He had to be over-reacting. There was no such thing as magic. There was no such thing as turning into an animal. He didn't need a religion professor, he needed a good psychologist. He was losing it and the weird fingernail thing probably had more to do with an actual illness rather than whatever it was he had concocted in his mind.

He started to get up to go tell Will never mind on the phone number, but realized he was still laughing. Dizziness washed over him and he fell back on the bed. He watched as once again his hands started to morph into paws as fur covered them and his nails sharpened. This time, however, he watched as the fur continued to grow up his arms, which started to bulk out slightly with muscle.

He looked down at his feet and saw the same thing happening to his legs.

Panic started to overtake him once more but still he continued laughing.

In fact, the changes started to feel kind of good in a way. He reached down with his paws and started to play with his cock. Waves of pleasure washed through him as he thrust his dick against the hard pads of his paws and the soft fur in between. He giggled in pleasure. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He brought his other paw up and held it up against the other side of his cock, rubbing it between both his paws. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as his eyes rolled back into his head from the sensations washing over him.

After a few more minutes of self-pleasure he came, white jizz shooting from his dick landing on his chest. He reached down and licked it up with his tongue, cleaning himself. It tasted amazing. He laughed as he wondered why he'd never done this before during his changes.

Even after coming once, his dick was still hard and aching for more. He reached down and started to rub it again and was startled when it began to stretch in his paws. The more he rubbed it, the longer it got, while the mushroom head started to taper into a diamond shape. A part of his mind screamed at him to stop as a strange black coloration started to overtake his cock, but with each and every change, waves of ecstasy washed over him sending his mind into overload. He looked down and found that he could wrap his mouth around his cock now.

The salty taste satisfied a craving he hadn't even realized he had, and he sucked himself off, not noticing how his tongue was getting larger in his mouth or how the small nub that was his tail was slowly getting longer and longer. All he was focused on was the mind-blowing sensations that he was managing to give himself. The pleasure built to a peak and exploded into a white-hot climax as his now feral, yellow cum shot into his mouth. He swallowed as much of it as he could, some of it dribbling down out of his mouth to land on the bed.

As he came down from the second mind blowing orgasm in less than ten minutes, he felt the vertigo return.

He watched as his body shifted, seemingly unable to decide what form it wanted to be in. Fur grew and receded; his paws became hands became paws once more; his cock writhed switching between the human one he was used to and his new form. It was if his body was in a state of chaos, both wanting to fight whatever was happening and wanting to give into it entirely. He felt a burst of pain erupt from his shoulder and watched as the changes accelerated, his body starting to resemble the form from his dream more and more. He bit his tongue and the pain seemed to stop the change. His body slowly started to revert back to human, but still his mind swam with the strange sensations--overloaded by the rapid shifting he'd just undergone. He groaned as his vision swam, and then the world went dark as his body fell unconscious into the bed.

Once again, he dreamt of the plains, of the pack, of the thrill of the hunt. A growing part of him was starting to enjoy this.

***

"Hey, James honey, wake up."

James felt someone shaking his shoulder. He yawned and opened his eyes to see Will laying the bed next to him. His boyfriend looked exhausted.

"Have you been up all night again?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about that. Listen, I talked to Arianna for you about the professor that specializes in ancient African religions. She gave me a name and number. I left it sitting on the kitchen counter for you, ok?"

"Yeah. You going somewhere then?"

"Yeah. Arianna and I have some stuff to take care of today."

James sat up and sighed. "Are you sure you'll be okay? I know somethings been up with you."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. You're right, I've been dealing with some stuff, but after today it'll be over and I promise I'll tell you about it tomorrow... I love you."

"Love you too." James leaned over and kissed Will on the cheek. "See you later."

"Yep." Will stood up and walked out of the room. A few moments later, James heard the apartment door open and close.

He looked at the clock. It was already afternoon. But he wanted to lay in bed, not wanting to get up for a bit, wishing he could pretend nothing was wrong. He looked down at his black fingernails and reached up and felt his still pointed ears. With a mounting feeling of dread, he pulled the covers up and looked down at his naked genitals. His body was covered in a large amount of hair and his dick was still larger than normal and an odd black color. The tip was still a sharp diamond shape as opposed to the mushroom he was used to. He groaned and let the blankets fall.

After a few more moments of self-pity he made his way out to the kitchen. The paper Will had promised still sat on the counter. He walked over to it and picked it up. It has the name "Jaidev Zuberi," written on it with a number quickly scrawled below it. James quickly grabbed his phone and dialed the number. After a few rings, somebody answered.

"This is Dr. Zuberi speaking. May I help you?"

"Yes, this is James Bryce. I'm a friend of Professor Kenting and Professor McConnell, who gave me your number. I was wondering if you could answer some questions I have about, um, I think it's hyena based rites or worship?"

"It's nice to meet your Mr. Bryce. Tell me, would you mind coming by my office later? I have to go give a lecture in a few minutes, but after that I'll be free and I can certainly look through some of my resources for you."

"Thank you very much. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Mr. Bryce."

The phone went quiet. James set it down on the counter. This was his last resort. He hoped that the man would be able to come up with some kind of answer to his problem. He turned and walked into the hallway. He would get ready and then head over there right away.

As he reached his bedroom though, the now familiar feeling of vertigo washed over him. "No, not now. No no no." He muttered as he tried to hold in the laughter building in his throat.

Then the loud chuckle burst from his throat and he lost control, falling into a fit of laughter. He fell to the ground, tears streaming from his eyes as he watched his body start to change once more. His hands started to form paws and he felt his feet doing the same. The hair across his body thickened, becoming a furry pelt--he even felt it growing across his face and ears; a strange tickling sensation that only added to the laughter that was spurring the changes. The feeling of his back popping, a prominent hump forming in his spine broke him from his fascinated horror. He had to stop laughing. He was so close to finding a solution. He reached up and slapped himself in the face, his claws grazing a pair of scratches across his cheek.

Still, the pain was enough to get him to stop. He lay on the floor panting, waiting for the changes to revert like they had every other time. But after a few moments of nothing happening, he started to worry.

He climbed to his feet and loped towards the bathroom to look in the mirror. He was horrified to see his body was more hyena than human now. Spotted brown and black fur covered his body and he was only able to stand hunched over. His hands and feet were stuck as paws and he worried if he would be able to drive like this. Still, he had to try. He had to hurry.

He rushed back to the bedroom and threw on clothes, making sure they hid the worst of his changes. He would have to rush to the car, but otherwise, he shouldn't be noticed. He took a final moment to prepare himself and then left the apartment.

***

James burst into Professor Zuberi. The man was sitting behind his desk idly typing away at his computer, the light from the monitor reflecting off his glasses. He looked up at James and nearly fell over in shock.

"Dear god! Mr. Bryce, is that you?" He steadied himself as James walked... or rather loped over to the chair on front of his desk. "I mean, I knew you wanted to know about any kind of African rites that involved hyena's but..." He looked up and down at mostly hyaenidaen form, "I didn't quite expect you to be the, er, hyena involved. So, uh, are you still able to talk or is this going to be a fun little game of charades."

"Of courrrrrse I'm still able to talk," he growled out of his half-formed muzzle at the professor. "It's just getting harrrrderrr."

"Right, right. Now. Let's try to figure out just what... spell, might have been used on you. Can you describe the situation you believe led to your current predicament?"

"I was in an alley. Therrre werrre smugglerrrs. They attacked me."

He typed a few notes on his computer and pulled a book out of the shelf next to him. "Mhmm, and then what?"

"A woman grrrabed me. She starrrted chanting. I pulled away and rrrran."

"Ok, so the woman apparently cast the enchantment. Tell me, was there anything special about this woman?"

He sat and thought for a moment. "It was like... she could contrrrol the shadows. They almost acted like pets to herrr."

He typed that into his computer and leafed through the book. "Right, so I think I have an idea of what was used. It was most likely an ancient sub-Saharan rite of some sort. The issue is there are several different spells it could be depending on country of origin. Africa is a large continent and most cultures have some kind of relationship with hyenas. Did the girl have a name or say anything that could give you an idea as to a region of origin?"

"Blanch. The man called herrr Blanch."

"Right, good. That means she's probably from a region that experienced heavy French colonization. That narrows the list down a bit, coupled with her strange usage of shadows. The rite required physical contact..." He flipped through his book for a moment and closed it before putting it back on the shelf. He looked at the spines of the others for a moment before he pulled another one out and set it on his desk. He opened it up and flipped to a page about three-quarters of the way through. "I think this is it. It's a type of pagan magic that was said to have used shadows and darkness to affect physical change upon the world. Before today I would've said that it was hogwash, but looking at you clearly says otherwise. Now, as to how it works, she would've had to imprint a sliver of her shadow within you to enact the change, likely at the point of contact. It's been slowly seeping through your body doing..." he gestured at James, "this to it. You're actually lucky you got away when you did or you probably wouldn't have lasted this long." He picked up the book and flipped through a few more pages.

"Now, as for how to reverse or nullify the rite... well, that's a bit more complicated. The easiest way would be to get the person who cast the spell to remove the sliver from your body. But I don't think in this case that is a possibility. Another way to reverse the spell would be death, but I don't think you want that. The last option is a bit more difficult. It involves creating a cleansing fire of sorts to act as a sort of 'light' in opposition to the 'shadow' and force the sliver out of your body. The problem is, the book doesn't say how this would be made but it does mention that it's possibly not going to be entirely effective at reversing the changes entirely."

He slammed his hand... paw down on the professor's desk. "I don't carrre. Just help me stop this!"

"Fine, fine. If I had to guess, the fire would probably be created by sanctifying a regular flame with the blessing of that particular region's god of light." He stood up and walked around his desk.

"Wherrre are you going?"

"I'm coming with you of course. First of all do you really think you could do this on your own? Second of all, there is no way in hell I would give up a chance to see the stuff I've studied my entire life become reality. Now come on, there's a fire pit in the buildings courtyard we occasionally use during galas and such. We can try to start up the ritual there and see what happens."

***

James stood beside the flickering fire while Professor Zuberi walked around, drawing glyphs on the cement tiles beneath them. He came to a stop and walked over to the small kitchen-bar off in the corner and dug through one of the cupboards before pulling out a small cloth bag.

"Guinea Pepper." He shouted over to James. "Should help with the purification of the flame. Well, probably. It's from roughly the right region and is used in some ancient rituals... but the point is it can't hurt to try, right?"

"Whateverrr you say." James growled. "Can we just hurrry this up before I end up eating carrrcasses and shit forrr the rrrest of my life?"

"Fine, fine. No fun." He sighed and walked over the fire and threw the bag inside it. A sharp cracking noise emanated from the flames and a smell like burnt citrus filled the air. "Right, so, uh, that did something I guess? Hopefully? I'm going to start doing the purification rite now so just hang tight for a few minutes and we'll see what happens."

He started to walk around the fire, whispering. James sat down on one of the benches next to the pit and held his paws up the flames. It wasn't cold by any meaning of the word, but he still felt a chill running through him. He watched as the professor started to get more and more into the rite, his voice slowly but steadily rising in volume. The wind which had earlier been nonexistent started to pick up, rustling through the trees that lined the courtyard and causing the fire to dance. James yelped as it engulfed his paw for a moment.

He yanked it back away from the flame. He stared down at it in awe for a moment. It had returned to its human shape. He shouted, "Professor I thi..."

A pain shot through his body. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. The shadows around the fire deepened and the surrounding buildings dissolved into the darkness. James watched as it wrapped further and further around the two of them until even the night sky above was gone.

"Professor, what's happening?" He managed to gasp out between struggled breaths. Another sharp pain shot through him, radiating from his arm, and he fell to the ground. He watched in horror as his hand began to stretch and change once more, only far more violent this time. Underneath his skin he could see his muscles rippling and heard bones breaking. Blood splattered across the ground as black claws erupted from the tips of his fingers rather than his nails simply changing. "Professor!"

"The spell is fighting back against our rite. I've got to concentrate. Fight it, Mr. Bryce." He heard the professor yell. It sounded like he was an impossible distance away.

James opened his mouth to reply but instead nothing but loud laughter came out. "No, he thought. Not now!"

He groaned as felt his body writhe beneath his clothing. He reached with his paw and began to claw at the suddenly restricting coverings. As his claws sliced through the material, it fell away to reveal the form underneath beginning to twist and reshape itself. Dark fur burst out of his skin as he started to claw at his pants, desperately trying to get them off before that part of his anatomy started to change. He managed it just in time as his undergarments fell to the ground, he heard a sharp crack come from his spine and everything went numb for a moment as he fell to the ground, his face slamming into the concrete.

When the world stopped spinning he attempted to get back to his feet but found that his anatomy had shifted to such a state where it was impossible. He was stuck on four legs now. And even worse, the changes were starting to feel more and more right. Beneath the pain of everything inside him changing and rearranging, there was an almost euphoric undercurrent pulsing through his veins. He felt his changing cock pulse and a thin trickle of clear fluid began to leak from it's diamond tip. He still had enough mobility to reach around with one of his paws and touch it and almost fell to the ground once more as the jolt of pleasure that shot through him was almost overwhelming.

"No," he managed to growl to himself between whoops of laughter, "I can fight this."

He struggled over to the fire. But the closer he got, the colder he felt. His body seemed to be begging him to move away from it. To move back to the shadows. To give in to the transformation. It would be so easy. So good. So wonderful.

He screamed out as his skull began to shift. He felt his jaw physically break as it started to push forward into a muzzle. Sharp fangs burst from his gums and his mouth filled with the suddenly wonderful taste of blood. He heard a popping noise and the world went silent for a moment as his skin tore and his ears moved to the top of his head. Then sound returned and he could hear the professor yelling at him.

"Fight it, James! Think of something you can't lose. Think of something you would fight for until you die!"

James pushed away the thoughts that filled his head--the thoughts that weren't and never would be his. He just had to focus on something, something that was more important to him than anything in the world. He remembered Will that morning telling him how sorry he was for being distant the last few days. Promising him that he would explain everything tomorrow. The slight, sad smile of his as he turned and left the apartment. His laugh. His smell. His touch.

James opened his eyes, the only part of him that was still human, and began to crawl towards the fire. His body screamed out in protest every step of the way, as tendrils of shadow tried desperately to grab onto him and pull him back into the darkness, but he ignored it. He refused to give in. A sharp burning sensation erupted from his arm as tendrils of darkness exploded from his skin wrapping around him. He took a deep breath and then he threw himself into the bright flames.

***

James groaned and opened his eyes. Bright, fluorescent lights shined down from above him. His mouth was painfully dry and his entire body ached like he had just run a marathon.

"Oh good, you're awake." He heard a voice, the professor's, come from beside him. "That was brave of you, you know, throwing yourself directly into the fire like that. Stupid. But brave. You were thinking of Professor Kenting, weren't you?"

James sat up and looked down at his body. He was covered with a soft blanket, but he was human. He looked around. He was laying on the floor of the professor's office. "Yeah," he choked out. His voice sounded normal once more even if it hurt to talk.

"Here, you sound like you need this." The man handed him a bottle of water. "Seems like Kenting's lucky to have you then. The ritual worked, but you had to want it to for that to happen." He stood up and walked around to a cabinet. "I think I have some clothes around here somewhere. They should fit you well enough."

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour. I was debating if I should take you to an emergency room, but I wasn't quite sure how to explain it. Ah, here we go." He pulled a folded pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of the cabinet. "Don't have any shoes, but you should be fine."

James stood up and took the clothes. "Is there a bathroom around here that I could use?"

"Down the hall to the right."

He walked out of the office and down the hallway. He could smell the acrid scent of smoke still lingering in the air. He opened the restroom door and walked inside, only to be assaulted with the harsh scent of chlorine and cleaning supplies. He coughed and held the blanket up around his nose. "Ugh, what the hell?"

He held his breath as he quickly changed into the spare clothes and then hurried back to the office. On the way there, he stopped. He swore he could actually smell Professor Zuberi from this distance. Just like when he was transforming...

He rushed into the office and draped the blanket over a chair. "It didn't work."

"What do you mean? Did you start changing again?" The professor rushed over to him.

"No, not yet, but I just... I can smell everything."

He laughed, "Oh, that's fine."

"What?"

"I told you the rite wouldn't reverse everything one hundred percent. You're lucky you just got a really good sense of smell rather than hyena ears or a tail or something like that. This is much easier to cover up and could even be useful if you want it to be."

"Oh."

"Now, let's go. I need to get home and I think you do too. Tell Professor Kenting I say hi."

"Ok. Um, thank you so much for your help."

"No problem, it was a learning experience for the both of us. I am definitely going to have to do some more research into this now."

James turned and walked back out of the building to where he left his car. It would be nice to head home. Maybe his life would return to normal now.

***

James stood in front of his apartment door. It was broken open and large claw marks covered the wooden surface. "Will?" He half-whispered, half-yelled as he pushed the door open the rest of the way.

The apartment was in ruins. Books from James' office littered the hallway, and just like the door, the walls were cored with claw marks. A cold chill went through him. "Will, are you here?" He cautiously walked towards the living room. The door to it had been completely destroyed. He walked over the remains of both it and his desk and stood near the couch. The window to the fire escape was open. He pulled out his phone and started to dial the police.

"Hang on." He heard a voice behind him. Arianna's. He turned to see her standing in the doorway. "Don't call anyone quite yet. Will's fine. We've been through a lot tonight, but we're fine. It's just... well, you're going to want to prepare yourself. He's in the bedroom."