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Ghostbusters: Daybreak

Chapter 7

(Naughty and Nice)

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

The cold had gotten colder, the days had gotten shorter, and yet there had been a bit of relief in it all. The constant angst and tension had abated as the steady rains of the Pacific Northwest became snow. It had started with gentle flurries, though even that much was enough to bring traffic to a near standstill. A mild ice storm had coated street lights, mailboxes and fire hydrants with a thin shell of ice and then more snow had fallen on top. It would have been hailed by the news as some sort of winter apocalypse the year before, but after dealing with the flood of ghosts for so long it seemed almost relaxing to focus on something as mundane as weather.

White lights burst forth from beneath the ice as the trees around downtown were lit up. Warmer colors came from wreathes of lights hung up on various storefronts. Even the parking garage across from the Ghostbusters' firehouse in Portland Oregon had been decorated with long strips of lights lining each of the levels. The bright rainbow of colors stood out against the periwinkle bluish grey sky, even managing to twinkle where some of the ice had built up. Ever since the lights had come on, Nine Mercer hadn't been able to stop smiling.

The eighteen year old sat on the couch in the firehouse living room, his feet propped up on the table. A mug of hot cocoa had just cooled down enough to stop steaming, though several tiny Stay Puft mini-marshmallows floated around inside the liquid. Nine had opted to wear a cozy black sweatshirt emblazoned with the Ghostbusters' emblem. While it had been natural to be wary of C2's Ecto-Tech inventions, it had seemed to stem the supernatural tide enough that the Ghostbusters weren't just holding ground - they were gaining it.

Entire neighborhoods on both sides of the Willamette Valley had been rid of their spooks, specters and ghosts. There had even been ripple effects as the copious amounts of psychomagnotheric slime that had been accumulating around the city had shifted from being caustic and negative to something far more neutral and workable. There was something about the darkest time of the year that made the sources of light seem extra bright, and there hadn't been a time quite as dark as this. Still, Nine knew he couldn't let his guard down. If their theory about the Man Trap was true, their enemy gained power from the resentment of trapped ghosts. Every step forward for them might be making their enemy stronger in turn, but to do anything else was to admit defeat. Nine reached for his mug of cocoa and brought it to his lips, sipping at it. While it was still warm, it had cooled just a bit too much for Nine's liking. The teenager looked up slowly, a slight sigh escaping his lips as an errant thought crossed his mind.

"Where are you, Rerun? Where did you go? When did you go?" Nine murmured. He looked over at the chair where the dream version of Grayson Kale had helped him strategize, then to the wall of pictures and relics from their predecessors. There were awards and commendations and certificates. Nine knew that he and the others had done a lot of good for the city, but in many ways he still felt like an imposter. He'd been lucky to figure out the codex that let them into the firehouse in the first place, then lucky to wiggle out of the lawsuit levied at them for unlicensed operation of the equipment. It was going to take a lot more than treating Ghostbusting as an after school job to earn the kind of acclaim and respect the others had - but it wasn't about the acclaim, not really. It was about making the world a better and safer place.

Nine tipped his not-so-hot cocoa back to try and drink it before it got too cold, but as he took the last gulp he heard something resonant and pure, a deep tone that sounded out from the firehouse. He lowered his mug and looked around, hearing it again. It wasn't an electronic sound, clearly not part of any of the containment unit's systems or any of the other security safeguards. Nine stood up as the third tone sounded and started looking around. It was metal, almost like the sound of an old clock, but where was it coming from? Nine checked the bookshelves and some of the display cases, leaning towards the kitchen before abandoning that thought. By the time he started making it down the stairs, he heard the seventh and eighth tones. A quick glance to his watch indicated it was in fact eight o'clock... at least whatever this clock was, it was accurate, although in the few months since they'd made it into the firehouse he'd never heard it before.

With the eighth chime having sounded, Nine doubted he'd be able to echo-locate it at all. His green eyes scanned the ground level, seeing the white Ford Explorer loaded down with intricate equipment and warning lights. He looked at the utility closet on the far side of the room, and then at the receptionist desk sitting just in front of the door to the basement... and then Nine looked at the carefully wrapped present sitting on top of the desk. His eyebrow twitched a bit. No one had come in or gone out of the firehouse in hours. A quick glance at the front door confirmed it was locked, but sitting right on top of the desk was a carefully and unusually wrapped present.

The gift was slightly smaller than a microwave, covered not in paper or even foil but what appeared to be green leather. A deep burgundy strapping wrapped it on two axis and instead of a bow there was a weathered metal buckle. It was handsome, it was impressive, and Nine had no doubt that it was supernatural. He ran over to the wall and pulled a PKE meter from its mount. With a flick of the switch, the bars started to dance up and down. Nine cautiously approached the gift, trying to compare the PKE waveform with the library of ghosts that had been encountered thus far. As Nine got closer, though, he noticed a car tucked in under the leather strapping. Against his better judgement, Nine reached out and picked up the card to examine it closer.

"In the darkest hour, hope and help can come from the most unexpected places. Sometimes all it takes is a gift to help move towards a Christmas miracle. -Callum Dade." Nine read out loud before his eyebrows shot up. He knew Callum, he had been a year ahead of him at Pioneer High and had graduated a few months back. His brother Jason still went there. Nine closed his eyes and leaned his head back, feeling like an idiot. Maybe the present had been delivered before Miguel went home and Angel had gone to his study group. Nine set both the PKE meter and the card down, unbuckling the leather strap and carefully lifting off the lid of the gift box. As the interior was revealed, iridescent light began to spill out of the interior.

"I fucking knew it, son of a-" Nine was cut off as a dark green leather strap erupted from the box, smacking him in the throat before it wrapped around and sizzled, fusing itself into a collar. The strap that had been around the package began to writhe and whip around like some sort of flattened snake, slapping Nine's hand out of the way before it coiled around his waist, cinching itself up. Nine grunted, feeling how tight it was, but then he gasped as he smelled the scent of polyester getting uncomfortably hot. The sweatshirt he wore erupted, not into flame but into glitter that fluttered to the ground, leaving him shirtless.

"Come on, that was a collector's item!" he groaned in dismay, though he suddenly cringed, his eyes squeezing shut as he started to feel dizzy. Nine reached for the desk to steady himself, but it was further away than he expected. Nine looked down to see the desk slipping away centimeter by centimeter, but not because it was shrinking - he was growing. Nine grabbed for the PKE meter but a sudden ache in his legs sent him toppling to his knees, then on all fours. His skin was tingling like ice and fire, what little chest hair he had falling away. His skin glistened as if it had been freshly oiled. His chest thumped with more than just his heart beat as his flat stomach began to harden, defining into set abdominal muscles. Even his pectorals were starting to emerge, jutting out from beneath the green collar.

Where the belt had been rubbing and brushing against his pants, the denim material began to soften and shift, turning into green leather. It creaked and groaned, the transformation inching down. Classic stitches were replaced with threaded leather strapping to keep it all together and the material creaked as it stretched out over Nine's lap, making a noticeable pouch. It took Nine a moment to realize the other groaning and creaking he heard wasn't coming from his clothes, but rather his own bones. His vertebrae were stretching taller, his arms and legs felt like taffy as they stretched and warped.

Nine was panting on all fours, spittle dripping from his bottom lip. His eyes opened, a brighter shade of green than they'd ever been before, realizing that his signature bangs of strawberry blond hair were looking a more vibrant copper color as they descended down past his chin. He could also feel what had been a short ponytail in the back of his head descending down the nape of his neck, along with a cascade of rust colored locks. Despite being half naked, his skin was burning hot, particularly his ears. Even with his ample hair, the fleshy point of an ear broke free, revealing more and more of the lobe as it stretched longer and taller.

A low vibration had started emanating from the box, growing stronger and stronger in its oscillation as it shimmied and shook its way over to the edge of the desk. To add injury to insult, as it fell over the edge it hit Nine in the head before landing in front of him. More leather straps shot out, slinging over Nine's shoulders, sizzling where they connected to his collar and belt. They slapped around him and sealed, creating a green leather harness. The more the leather pressed into his flesh, the faster he seemed to grow. His feet began to ache and pain, not so much from how they were stretching longer but how the shoes he wore were squeezing and pinching.

Against his better judgement, Nine rolled onto his back, using his longer, more gangly arms to swat at his right foot until he caught the loop at the back of the sneaker and tugged it off, sending it clattering to the floor. Instant relief nearly made him sigh, though his left foot was still trapped. Nine wriggled one way and the other, feeling the tips of his very long, very pointed ears scraping the cement as he rolled from side to side. He tried and failed three times to catch his left sneaker until he just used his right foot to kick it off, sending it rolling under the Ecto, wedging itself behind the far wheel.

Nine's impressive muscled chest rose and fell with his panting, more than a little ankle slipping out of the bottom of his dark green leather pants. He arched his back, groaning as he felt his ribs shifting and his neck lengthen. What baby fat he'd retained had melted away, used for fuel in his growth, leaving him quite lean and angular. Even his chin seemed pointier than it had before, softened only by tiny wisps of reddish stubble that had emerged. His fingers scratched and scraped at the garage floor, his fingers extending just a bit further.

Gradually, little by little, the heat began to escape from Nine's skin. His bones felt solid, his muscles ceased their aching and his heart slowed back down. Soon the garage floor felt comfortable against the bare portions of his back, then a moment later he felt as if the world wasn't spinning anymore. Nine reached up and grabbed the desk before he pulled himself into a sitting position. With his legs pulled up tight to him he began to stand up - and up - and up. Nine nearly fell over again as he realized he hadn't just packed on pounds, he'd packed on a good eight or nine inches to his height. He looked around in surprise at how different everything looked before he reached up, brushing his hair back behind a very long, very pointed ear. Feeling his fingers brush the sensitive flesh, his eyebrows lifted in surprise until he walked over to the Ecto, looking at his reflection in the window. He turned one way, then the other, both surprised and intrigued.

"I'm a blood elf?" he murmured, thinking back to his youth playing different fantasy MMOs. It certainly wasn't the type of elf he'd associated with Christmas before, but if his only alternative was being a few feet tall, this was certainly the lesser of two evils. The question remained, however, just what this Callum was trying to do by sending him a tainted present. Nine picked up his PKE meter from the desk and grabbed the keys to the Ecto. It was time to do some investigating.

****

The front door clicked and whined as it opened, the old house's foundations having shifted enough over the past hundred years that nothing was quite a flush fit anymore. Miguel stepped through, holding an iced coffee despite the cold outside. He kicked the snow off his shoes before stepped in, returning his keys to his pocket. The eighteen year old looked around, already having a sneaking feeling that the house was once again empty.

"I'm home!" he called out, wondering if either Angel or his mom would surprise him by actually being around. His suspicions were proven true by the aching silence. Miguel's face tightened a bit as he set his coffee down and pulled off his faux-fur lined puffy jacket, hanging it up on the coat hook. It had been hard never getting to know his mother, and then even harder with his dad constantly on the run from the law, the government, immigration and every reputable organization dealing with historical artifacts, but the sudden change in the Allen household was really starting to irritate him. What was the use coming back at all? Maybe he should be the one watching over the firehouse. With Rerun missing, it wasn't like Nine could be there all the time.

Miguel was about to consider packing up a night bag and heading back when he caught something bright blue in the corner of his eyes. In fact, it was the same shade of blue he had dyed his hair. Miguel moved toward the old hexagonal cherry wood dining room table. The gift was impressively wrapped with what looked like blue leather with a dark brown strapping. The card tucked under the strap seemed to be made of thick yellowed card stock emblazoned with his name in gold ink. Miguel lifted the card up and flipped it over, looking at the message scrawled in tiny letters.

"Not all who wander are lost, and true friends can lead others through any peril. Your friendship is the bright light to help navigate the dark times." Miguel read aloud before making a soft coo. That was so sweet! A pang of guilt shot through his heart as he wondered what Nine got him. Here he was feeling down on everyone and everything and someone was sweet enough to get him a present. Miguel lifted the lid off the box and reached in, pulling out a brown leather harness that jangled as it was hoisted. Metal rings ran down the front of it with classic jingle bells. Miguel only had a moment to look at it in puzzlement before the leather started to whip and wrangle, slinging itself around like a wily octopus.

"Fuck, FUCK!" Miguel cursed, trying to throw the thing across the dining room but the strap latched around his wrist before flinging itself at him. As the weight of it hit Miguel's chest, he stumbled back a few steps. The surprise gave the harness more than enough time to latch over his shoulders, around his ribs and sling a thick bit down over his loins and between his legs, all of the pieces sizzling and hissing as they hit each other on his back.

Doing what any reasonable young man would in his situation, Miguel grabbed at the harness, trying to pull it off. He looked for straps or buckles, fasteners or clasps, but he found nothing. The leather had sealed itself into one continuous piece. Every time Miguel struggled, the bells merely tinkled as they were jostles about. Miguel groaned and grunted, tugging at the straps, managing to get them to stretch out the slightest bit before they snapped back. The smell of hot cotton filled the air before his grey t-shirt suddenly collapsed in a flurry of glitter. His pants and underwear were only a moment behind, leaving Miguel standing in the dining room in nothing but a bell lined leather harness and snow boots.

Blushing as brightly as he could manage, Miguel turned and ran up the stairs, cursing again as his feet ached and throbbed as he ascended. It felt like a cramp from the cold. His toes didn't want to grip and his heels felt numb. He muttered to himself, grabbing onto the bannister, pulling himself up step by step before stumbling into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. Miguel cursed in English, Spanish and what little he'd learned of Latin from the books around the fireplace. The junk drawer shuddered as he yanked it open, looking for scissors. He grabbed a pair and brought their blades to the leather strapping, sliding one over and one under before he squeezed.

The scissors snapped and clattered to the floor, a startling enough experience, but Miguel realized that the enamel he'd painted on his fingernails had also shattered. The polish fell off in flakes, revealing an unsettling rich earthy black color beneath. Miguel moaned, dropping down onto Angel's bed before he winced, feeling his tailbone pinch. He shifted his weight and then felt the tailbone move as if to bend out of the way. Miguel's eyes closed and he let out what was supposed to be a sigh, though it emerged from his nostrils as a frustrated snort instead. Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and rub his head, Miguel felt something firm and hard beneath the skin of his forehead. The lump was distinct, pointed and swelling. Sure enough, he felt an exact duplicate of the lump on the other side. Miguel reached for his phone and pulled it out, dialing Nine's number. It rang a few times before clicking over to voicemail.

"Nine, something happened... I found this present at my place. I thought it was from you and opened it, but it's clearly possessed. I'm changing and I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not exactly sure it'd be best for me to go outside like this. Call me when you get this. Maybe we should start keeping mood slime at our houses in case of emergencies..." Miguel murmured before he hung up, grimacing as his boots felt painfully tight around his feet. He reached down to pull them off but jumped as the material snapped, allowing unruly thick black toenails to slice through. He wiggled his numb toes, realizing that the left half moved as one and the right half moved as the other.

Resigning himself to the unusual fate, he grabbed the broken half of the scissors closest to him and hacked through the boot before peeling it off. Sure enough, his toenails had oozed and surged to coat his toes, hardening just in time to make them look more like hooves. He had two dewclaw like protrusions on the back that he tested, waving his foot forward and back. It was large, paddle like and ready to break through the snow and tundra - not that Portland had any tundra. There was no doubt as to what he was becoming, and if there was no way to reverse it, maybe Miguel could at least study it and hopefully retain himself in the process.

Miguel shambled from his bedroom to the bathroom, managing to peel off his other boot on the way so that his hooves clip-clopped on the wood floor for the last few feet. The light clicked on as Miguel moved in, looking at his reflection. He wasn't sure where to look first, realizing that a tuft of soft creamy brown fur had sprouted from his chest between the leather harness and equally soft fur was sprouting from his arms and legs. The hair creeping up from the leather pouch over his groin was more of a butter cream color, a sharp contrast to his black and blue hair and his... furry ears. They twitched as he thought about them, waggling as they stretched out into more of a teardrop shape.

"If my nose starts glowing I'm going to shoot myself with a positron collider..." Miguel muttered, although his opinion shifted a bit as he reached up to feel how luxuriously soft the fur was between his nipples. He played with it and pet it, moaning softly, gasping as the leather pouch over his groin suddenly felt incredibly tight before it split open and Miguel's swollen manhood swung out. With barely more than a touch, he was already half hard. His cock was inflating like an emergency raft ejected from an airplane during a water landing. It stretched longer and thicker, turning purplish-red from blood, then growing darker as the skin firmed. Miguel couldn't help but grab it with his free hand, surprised how heavy it was as it stretched out before him.

Dark fingernails brushed the flesh before the fingers coiled completely, giving his length a squeeze, then a stroke. As he pet his chest fur with one hand and jacked off with the other, Miguel gave up all concern for the changes his body was undergoing. He started to jack off wildly, moaning and panting even as the tip of his nose darkened and his deer ears twitched more. Each pump of his cock felt like it was building the pressure inside him, all of it rising up and up and up. The skin on his forehead reddened and looked more irritated, stretched to the breaking point over the lumps on his forehead until, inevitably, the skin broke.

When Miguel opened his eyes again, he was looking up at two velvety antler nubs that extruded out from his forehead, pressing up through his shag of black and blue hair, rising taller and prouder just as his cock did the same. Miguel had played around with Angel's horse meat enough to know what was coming as soon as the mushroom shaped head of his manhood blunted and flattened, flaring out at the edges. It had to be bigger than a cucumber and already three times as heavy... but he wanted more. He wanted the biggest Christmas package he could get...

Miguel moaned hard, feeling the fur creep over his shoulders and down his back. He shuddered as his triangular deer tail twitched and flexed above his pert, newly fur lined ass cheeks. He even snorted as his jaw began to ache and throb shortly before it began pushing forward. His tongue ran over blunted teeth as his nostrils widened, his face tingled and the fur crept up his throat and across his cheeks. Bones, ligaments and cartilage were reshaped like warm, wet clay beneath his fur lined skin as Miguel took on a muzzle. His antlers continued to rise from his skull, each inch of growth feeling like an extra firm erection as it spilled out and branched, growing taller and thicker.

The bells on Miguel's harness continued to ring and jangle as he jacked himself off, feeling his horse meat surpass a foot in length, nearly reaching a foot and a half. Furry brown balls popped free of his harness as they grew, although he suspected it'd be easy enough to tuck them back in later. The fur dribbled down his legs, covering his knees, his ankles, and finally the gap between his four toed feet. Miguel panted hard, huffing through his new reindeer nose as his nipples and cock were the last bit of bare skin beneath his neck.

A clatter filled the bathroom when Miguel leaned his head back, not realizing his antlers were big enough to knock a pair of small photographs from the wall, sending them to the floor, but Miguel didn't care. He stopped petting his chair fluff and grabbed onto his cock with both hands, running them up and down his length like a jackhammer. If that was what Angel felt like after being touched by the Tikbalang, he didn't understand how he could function without jacking off constantly.

More snorts blasted from the reindeer's muzzle, his hooves clomping back and forth on the bathroom floor, his furry chest rising and falling. He needed to fuck, to be fucked. He felt so hot, incredibly hot, boiling hot... too hot for the house. He needed to get outside in the cold, in the snow, but first he had to release all that pent up pressure. Miguel let out a bay that echoed through the house as he came, thick spurts of sticky reindeer cum splattering all over the bathroom mirror, the tile work and the porcelain basin. He shuddered, tail twitching as he came for nearly a full minute until finally he felt rational enough to breathe again, to steady himself, and to head for the door. He knew once he was out in the snow that things would feel a lot better - he was a reindeer after all.

****

The night had only gotten darker and colder as the hours ticked by. The buses had stopped running and the snow was building back up on the streets, coming down in light flakes. There was something unsettling about it all as Angel emerged from Club See-Through, although he knew that was a problem compounded by what he had just done. He felt a tiny bit drunk, fairly spent and overly tired. His brain felt like it had been cooked for too long and had been dropped onto a slab of ice. Even outside the club he could feel the music vibrating through him, although his skin felt too loose, too cold, like his whole body didn't fit right. Then again, he was human again and that hadn't felt right after his first visit to the club.

He'd spent several nights as the Demon Daddy Fallen Angel, fucking a half dozen men each night. He'd started considering trying other PKE profiles off the menu, wondering how good he'd look as an octopus king. Angel slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket to keep them warm but came across something rather large stuffed into one. When he pulled it out it was a gift box wrapped in silver leather with thin black strapping. Angel's brow furrowed as he untied the knot and then unfolded the leather, the box inside having no cover other than the wrapping. Sitting inside was a thick rubber ring, as big as a bracelet but Angel knew it wasn't for his wrist...

"Naughty, naughty, naughty..." A deep resounding voice echoed across the parking lot. Angel looked up, inhaling as he saw horns, but they weren't exactly demon horns... at least not the kind he'd been playing around with recently. The creature was imposing, larger and stranger than all but a few Angel had faced as a Ghostbuster. What skin it had uncovered by fur was the color graphite. Its features were angular and pointed beyond any conventional beauty, seeming more akin to a troll or a less romanticized demon. Solid red eyes with golden irises sized Angel up, appraising and judging him while he long, curving goatee extending from his chin fluttered in the breeze. Light snow settled on the thick mane of black hair that grew out from his shoulders like a natural shawl, but the most distinct features had to be the immense horns curving back along his skull before rising straight up.

"What are you, the ghost of Christmas Future?" Angel asked. The beast snarled at the impudence before it lifted a clawed finger. Angel gasped as something squeezed around his horse cock, forcing it to grow erect once more as if he hadn't put it through all the paces in the club. It began to grow and stretch and bulk out, sending ripples through Angel's body.

"If it were not for my deal with the Ghostbusters I would put you in my sack and you would never cause trouble to any of those that cared for you again, but the Ghostbusters can not live up to their bargain if they are missing. They require a proxy." the beast growled. Angel's mind reeled even as the blood left his brain to go to his bloating cock. He fell forward, panting harder and harder, feeling his cheeks tingle as wiry black hairs began to break free and his forehead began to lump and deform as he started growing horns for the second time in the night.

"You're... the Krampus..." he moaned, looking down at his cold hands as the brown flesh turned black, his fingernails growing longer and sharper and thicker, looking more wicked and sexy by the second. Angel tried to lick his lips, though his tongue was growing fatter, longer and far more purple as he did so. The beast moved forward and crouched down, his obscenely long cock wobbling before him as he reached out to run his clawed fingers through Angel's thickening beard. He pet and stroked the hair, coaxing it to thicken and bulk out.

"And you are a Krampus now too." he whispered before he leaned in and kissed Angel, plunging a snake-like tongue all the way through Angel's mouth, down his throat and into his stomach. As it wriggled and slithered around, Angel's fear was replaced by horniness, power, heat and justice. Blood trickled down his forehead as sharp horns burst forth, rising up inch by inch, taking on a zig-zag shape like a lightning bolt. Each time the tongue plunged down into Angel's depths, it seemed to force out more of his humanity. His ears ached as they stretched into points, his cock slunk down his leg, growing longer and longer like an uncoiling python.

The Krampus seemed to be enjoying himself, but finally he retracted his wicked tongue, leaving Angel to pant for breath, revealing that all of his teeth had stretched into wicked fangs. The bushy black beard creeping down his cheeks swung across his chin, meshing together before descending downward. The Krampus leaned in, his horns clacking against Angel's as he reached up, massaging his recruit's ears with his clawed fingers, working them into sharper, taller, stranger points. Satisfied with his work he pulled back, smiling wickedly as he saw tufts of black fur billowing from Angel's shirt, puffing it out. Still, it was too hard to see the progress and the Krampus was growing impatient.

Angel looked down as the beast put a clawed hand on his chest, then gasped as his outfit exploded into glitter that fell onto the snow below. What would have been Angel's bare feet sunk into the slush, but the flesh was already leathery and tough as his toenails curved into sickle like claws. The graphite pigment spread across Angel's skin like gathering storm clouds, leaving some patches bare and other sections sprouting with new fur. His arms thickened, his legs were coated, and his cock wobbled before him, veins throbbing as the ring around the base of his shaft kept it hard and ready.

Confusion and lust swam in Angel's head as he leaned into the Krampus' bearded face, inhaling his pine and cinnamon scent. It seemed only natural when Angel felt one of his meaty, furry legs being lifted that he cooperated, slipping over the beast's lap before he slid down. A hot, thick pillar of cock slid between furry ass cheeks, impaling Angel on it. He threw hie head back and let out a moan of pleasure. The Krampus began to buck and bounce, thrusting up into Angel, sliding deeper and deeper as if he was rearranging Angel's insides. In fact, he was. What use did a Krampus have for a conventional stomach or intestines? He was a spirit, a beast of few purposes.

Angel rose up and down on the creature's cock, feeling it rise up past his stomach, then his chest, then pierce into his very soul. He welcomed it, feeling strangely fulfilled. It wasn't like the heat of the demons, it was a different kind of warmth. It was the warmth of comfort, of care, and of Christmas. He leaned his fang filled mouth closer to the Krampus before kissing him, letting their serpentine tongues tangle. To Angel's surprise, the Krampus had enough tongue to french kiss him and to let it slip back out, coiling around his long, fat, huge horse cock. Angel squirmed and writhed as his horns lifted taller and taller, his beard growing thick enough and long enough to press against the Krampus', their hot bodies grinding and rocking together.

Muscles contracted and released as if they were trying to milk the demon of his seed, Angel's body adapting to the changes with surprising ease. It was almost as if his body had gotten used to such frequent metamorphosis. His furry legs straddled the Krampus as he let the cock fill him deep. He groaned and moaned, muffled by the insane amount of tongues in his mouth. Angel shuddered, twitched, tried to inhale, and then he came. Silvery semen erupted from his shaft, splattering over the Krampus' coiled tongue. Angel's partner savored the sinful slick slurry, doing his best to draw it upward but eventually it just splattered all over their firm chests and black fur. The Krampus inhaled the aroma before he let out a rumbling growl of his own, giving one last thrust deep into Angel before he released.

Flashes filled Angel's mind, flashed of his youth, of his adolescence, of his young adulthood. He saw times he'd been charitable, kind and generous. He saw times where friendship had been enough, where a good deed had been its own reward, and Angel was starting to see how far he'd fallen. He had been lying, he'd been spending more money that he had, and he'd been a dirty, dirty boy... but Angel also saw flashes of a life that was not his own. He saw the Ghostbusters from a distance, seemingly speaking to him - no, to them...

"Grayson Kale..." The Krampus' voice boomed in the memory, feeling as if it had come from Angel's own throat, "You... have been a very good boy." Angel could feel the spirit's surprise at that revelation, then how the surprise grew as he took in the rest of the original team. "Seth Dillon, Dakota Shaw, Elijah Reed, Nico Kingston, Rerun Unduallai..." The names ran off of the creature's incredibly long tongue.

"We have, and we want to help others to be good too." The leader of the Ghostbusters had said. His voice had been calm, centered and unafraid.

"If you take on this task, there are risks... and rewards." The Krampus had warned.

"You'll let us try to help these kids?" Gray asked, not pulling back from the opportunity.

"You have one year to make the improvement. One year until my return." With that promise the memory faded away, leaving Angel with a Krampus cock up to his throat. The two stared into each other's red eyes.

"But they were taken by a ghost before the year was up, before they could finish their work..." Angel murmured, "And so you can't judge them fairly, or the people you would have taken away before..." he whispered in realization.

"You and the others will help me, and I will help you..." The Krampus growled. Angel gave a meek smile, running a hand up and down across his bloated, cum filled stomach.

"You can help me as much as you'd like if it's like that." he murmured, "That was amazing." The Krampus let out a blast of steam from his nostrils.

"I have learned many things since my reawakening, many forms of connection..." The Krampus murmured in fond reflection of Callum and the others he'd turned the year prior, but the Krampus' face tightened as he drew his focus back to the present, "We must get ready for our work. When the time is right, I will summon you." The Krampus said. Angel's eyes widened in shock.

"What do you mean, when the time is-" Angel yelped as he landed ass first in the snow, the Krampus simply melting into the shadows. Angel was left there, panting. He froze as he heard the crunch of feet walking through the snow, a few of the other patrons heading home. Angel looked up to see two of the other regulars limping toward their cars. One of the two slowed, looking over at him, blond eyebrows furrowing behind narrow frame rectangular glasses.

"Angel, are you okay?" he asked, brushing back some unruly blond hair that had been made of snakes mere hours before.

"Y-yeah Sammy, just resting a bit." Angel replied, wondering if they either couldn't see that he was a Krampus or assuming he'd been playing with his Ecto-Tech outside of the club.

"Do you want a ride home?" Sammy asked. Angel shook his head, something only exaggerated by his tall zig zag horns or the bushy black beard that grazed his collarbone.

"No, I'm good. You two have a good night!" Angel said. Sammy gave a small wave before squeezing into his girlfriend's two door car. The lights came on, the windows defrosted and the vehicle shuddered as it backed up, turned and lumbered toward the snow caked roads. Angel continued to sit there, one hand slowly drifting down to rest on the thick log of a cock he sported, tainted by two different ghosts and kept erect by a supernatural cock ring. Sometimes life worked in incredibly strange ways.

****

Steam wafted up from the mugs as the hot water was poured in one after another, swirling with the brown powder until microscopic dehydrated marshmallows bobbed to the surface. To be honest Nine felt like it would have been smarter to have energy drinks, but it would have been an understatement to say that he had found the Christmas spirit. Nine lifted the mugs carefully and brought them over to the coffee table in front of the couch on the second floor of the firehouse, setting them down. The bathroom door eased open as Miguel emerged, clopping over on his hooves. He'd recessed only slightly, his muzzle pulling back but leaving him with reindeer ears and antlers. Nine lifted his phone and snapped a picture before examining the screen. Miguel blushed, his teardrop shaped ears drooping.

"You wanted evidence?" he asked shamefully. Nine shook his head and turned the camera around, showing Miguel in a rather ordinary looking blue sweatshirt and black jeans.

"I just wanted to see what everyone else is going to see." Nine explained. Miguel looked even more deflated as he sat down on the chair, clearly feeling his deer tail squeezed into the cushions. He ran his fingers back and forth through the thick, soft fur on his legs.

"Is this what happened to the OG's? I read about all the times they were compromised and contaminated, it got really bad for that Seth guy..." Miguel said. Nine moved over, reaching to rub Miguel's shoulder although he got a bit too into it with how soft his friend's fur was.

"They figured out ways to help him, and I guess that's a side effect of our universe being damaged by Zytu... We'll figure it out, we'll get back to normal." Nine said.

"The questions are when and how." Angel said as he emerged from the stairwell, moving over. He grabbed a mug of cocoa and lifted it up, pouring it back, gulping it down before he let out a steamy sigh. Both Nine and Miguel stared at his beastly, burly, incredibly well endowed frame for long enough that Angel looked back, "What?!" he asked. Nine shook his head to refocus himself before he sat down, something far more challenging given his new height.

"You had the conversation with the Krampus, you saw the visions... Did he get more specific on what he wants to do?" Nine asked. Angel was the last to sit, although Miguel scooted away from him to make more room.

"He wasn't with me very long, but I was able to think back on the memories and what I saw on the walk over here. He only banished a few souls the last time he was here, irredeemable adults. He let all the kids go. He also loosened his grip on Callum and his brother because they were doing so well once they were taken in by their original adoptive family. The card was sort of a last hurrah I guess... Gray and the others had tried to help those affected. After school programs, mentorships, they even spoke out about the need for extra counselors at the school. I think the Krampus is most frustrated that they didn't get to finish the whole year. There's this sense of injustice, of frustration, of anticipation." Angel explained. Nine blew on his cocoa to cool it down a little before he sipped at it.

"We have three weeks until Christmas, I assume that's when the year is actually up." Nine said in consideration. Miguel's eyes widened in shock.

"And we have to stay like this until then?" Miguel asked. Angel grinned and reached over, caressing one of his roommate's antlers.

"I think you look handsome." he said, considering for a moment, "Almost like handlebars." he added with an almost predatory growl to his voice.

"It'll be a challenge, I know." Nine said, trying to draw the focus back, "We might even have to let off a little more steam than usual... Find outlets... But we have to stay focused. I don't think that the Krampus turned us to judge these kids that he scooped up a year ago, I think he actually wants to get the old team back. That means we have an ally, we have more resources. We have to make a plan to get them back from the Grey Eyed Boy once and for all." Nine said, his green eyes fierce and determined as he looked at his comrades, his partners, his team. It felt like the snowball was gaining momentum as it rolled and soon nothing was going to be able to stop them, living or dead.