Run, You Fool! (Part 1 of 2)
Vincent slammed the door of the cleaner behind him and made a run. Another one. Her lips had stretched out, black over a wet snout, her dark, thick nails waving him over.
He had to escape the monster, before it got him too! He dashed for the parking lot, whipping his gaze left and right, trying to remember where he'd parked. People still in winter coats got in his way, and were knocked down. He didn't check to see if they were still normal or not, he just kept moving, and then--
"Wh-WHOA!"
Thud. He'd slipped on a sheet of ice, and had a taste of asphault. The world blinked black and red, and that palpable, dull buzz of hitting your head set in.
Guess it's still January, fuck. So much for Spring.
"Are you alright?" A voice to his right called out. An arm reached to pick him up. "Yeah, sure, fine!" he cried, coming to his senses, ready to run already, thanks to adrenaline. He caught himself though, and heart beating, he slowly turned to look at his benefactor.
"You should be careful, handsome. It's cold outside," the voice cooed sweetly. Hot rank air rolled from the mouth of the figure, into his face. It wasn't human--it simply inhabited a human's body. From the torso down, it looked like a woman in a fuzzy brown overcoat, purse and all, ready to do her banking or return Christmas gifts--probably a young mother.
But her coat--and her top--were both undone, and four additional nipples poked out beneath the breasts amidst thick white and yellowish-tan fur. The head of the creature was entirely vulpine, beneath a long mop of fine black hair.
"Get away!" Vincent screamed, wrenching his arm from the creature. He took off, and began counting the signs.
A3, A4... A5!
Frantically, he slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling for his keys. His nails ticked palpably against jingling metal, and he fished the ring out of his pocket--
Only to find, in horror, that his right hand had transformed. He had gained a set of claws that extended from where his fingernails had been only minutes ago. They were like the lady at the cleaner's had been--thick, blunt black things, like you'd see on a dog. Each of his fingertips now sported a tiny black pad of thickened hair, growing like some strange infection had set in.
Oh jesus, what's it doing to me? he thought, panicked, as he slipped his keys into the other hand, trying not to touch his unaffected one, in case the change was somehow contagious. With a rubbing of metal against metal, the right key slipped into the door lock, he throttled the handle, and was inside his car in under two seconds. Hastily he buckled his seatbelt with his left hand, and placed the keys in the ignition.
"Please don't tell me I left the headlights on again." He prayed, not remembering if he'd turned them off or not, and not bothering to have looked in his hurry. Thankfully, the engine revved, and he took off. What an awful day it'd been!
He'd first encountered the monster at just around eleven that same morning, coming back from the bank for a quick coffee--and at the beginning, he thought it was just a bad dream or hallucination. But it seemed that it could be anywhere, anytime he turned his head--
"Hold up, handsome, what's the hurry?" a voice from the backseat sang pleadingly. The car's tires shreaked as Vincent slammed the brakes.
--Or at least, anywhere a woman was to be found. He didn't know if it was turning people into more monsters, or if it was just one creature, jumping between bodies--but it seemed that one second, he could be near an ordinary member of the opposite sex, and the next, in the company of--well, a fox would be the best guess, he supposed.
It was already disrobed, and curled up on his backseat. It had its winter coat, and blanket tail, along with the stolen blonde waves of some college girl. It was the same tan-yellow fur, the same rankish, musky stench of game and piss. If it could be said that the creature had an expression, it was one of desireful rapport, the black edges of lips revealed, tongue panting, its face curled into an animalish smile, its yellow eyes--slitted, catlike orbs.
HONK!!! The horn of a car he had rear-ended stirred him from his horrific voyeurism. Conflicted, he made the ten-second decision between running and taking responsibility for a car accident--and it cost him another hot breath to the face from the she-beast.
He undid his belt, slammed the door open, and made tracks across the nearby sidewalk--sporting a bushy orange tail that poked over the top of his khakis. He took little notice of it at first, until the weight of a new, warm limb, waving strongly in the cold breeze, its hairs erect, registered to his brain as he slipped down an alley. The regression was continuing! Every encounter seemed to take its toll on him, and there had to be nowhere to run--except...
Yes, if he made it back to his apartment, he could lock himself in, free of strange encounters, and maybe sleep this nightmare away. Trying to recall where the high-rise was in respect to his location, he made up his mind to end his workday early.
Something felt wrong about wearing pants now--they felt baggy, loose, and in the way. He nearly tripped over the legs of them before realizing he was shrinking in size. Oh shit. It's spreading on its own...
He cast them aside, tail held high over his boxers, and pulled free his fur covered legs. The chill of the air bit down, but felt alienly dull on his naked body. He spead off, hoping that he could escape this transformation, if he could just keep away from women for awhile.
He could not see it, but the prints he left in the snow were a fox's, too. His mate tailed them in the shadows, ready to claim her prize as she slunk along quietly from behind...