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A Different Kind of Apocalypse

By Summerfox

The term "Apocalypse" is typically associated with the End Times: complete and utter destruction at the hands of an angry God-deity or an unforgiving universe. All throughout history, humans have believed that it would come in their lifetime and they would see all life wiped out in front of their eyes. And yet that moment never came. Disasters and plagues took masses of people with them (but not all of them) but often showed up unannounced. Prophesies that fell short would leave people with a lot of nervous laughter. Laughter that said 'How could we have been so foolish to have believed in it for a moment?' was also deeply relieved that things would be the same as they had always been. Y2K, the Harold Camping and Nostradamus predictions, the Cuban missile crisis, and hundreds of other unfulfilled predictions came and went anticlimactically.

On December 21st, 2012, people continued about their business, making the odd joke about what they would have for their last meal or what the last thing they would do would be. People threw parties to celebrate the 'End of the World' that wouldn't happen. When no asteroids hit the Earth or nuclear mushroom caps appeared on the horizon, people gave a cheer for the resiliency of the human race and went to bed with their minds at ease that nothing would change. They'd wake up the next morning and deal with each day as it came as they always had.

Those who had stayed up long enough would have heard rumors though, first through the internet and then later through the media. Something did change.

The word Apocalypse comes from the ancient Greek term for 'uncovering' as in the lifting of the metaphorical veil of misconception and deceit. It would be a day where the wool would be pulled away from the world's eyes in revelation of some great truth. Or maybe it would be a test of the human condition where the world would wake up and be faced with something so extreme and out of the ordinary that they would be forced with new decisions. To relearn compassion and humanity and reshape how they saw the universe.

~~~

The blaring alarm roused Kent from his slumber, pulling him unwillingly out of his dream world and into the waking one. Like most of his friends, he had stayed up to midnight to bid farewell to the End of the World. He refrained from drinking (though he and his boyfriend Peter raised a glass of wine when the clock struck 12) and though he had the next day off, Peter would have to go into work at 10 in the morning. Kent worked at a distribution center for a large retail chain, while Peter worked at a store for said retail chain.

Kent grumbled and rolled over, gently kicking at Peter. "Outta bed, stupid."

Kent didn't notice anything was different when he shoved Peter with his foot, nor heard the difference in the way Peter growled as he shifted out of bed. The bed creaked heavier than usual as Peter got up but it still wasn't enough to rouse any suspicion with Kent who was trying to go back to sleep. It was only the surprised scream/yelp from the bathroom that brought Kent out of his drowsiness to full attention.

Kent had heard Peter scream before, like when he had accidently stepped barefoot on a still smoldering cigarette someone had tossed during a party at a friend's apartment. His scream sounded just like that, but it rang differently. The sharpness and affliction sounded more feral than normal.

Kent quickly threw himself out of bed and sped to the bathroom.

"Baby?" he said, opening the door, "Are you oka..."

The words died in his mouth when he saw why Peter had screamed. If he hadn't been as shocked as he was, he probably would have screamed as well.

Standing at the sink, looking into the mirror with a look of horror and revulsion on its face was a half-man, half-wolf being. It was taller and larger than Peter, easily standing over a foot higher. The black anthro wolf, not quite a werewolf, ran its paws over its face, muzzle, and through its hair with dismay.

"What happened to me??" It screamed in Peter's voice, now deeper and with a slight animalistic howl.

Kent tried to take a step back but he felt the strength go out of his legs. He held onto the doorframe, watching with equal parts horror and confusion as his mind tried to catch up with the situation at hand. Part of him knew that the thing was Peter and something had happened to him, but another part, the ever irrational part, tried to figure out where the hell Peter was and if this horrible werewolf had something to do with his disappearance.

When the wolf turned to look at Kent, Kent saw that its eyes were dark green. Just like Peter's had been. His confused and terrified eyes pleaded for help.

Kent sprawled backwards and fell on his naked ass, frantically trying to crawl away. While part of him tried to rationalize that it was Peter in a wolf's body, the part of his mind reserved for "fight or flight" went straight for flight. In a panicked state he tripped and sprawled over the carpet, giving himself a good case of rug burn on his knees as he tried to get himself back up and out of the room. "Flight" became "fight" when his instinct told him to run to the kitchen and arm himself with a knife. One of those big steak knives that Peter had bought him as a present for their six month anniversary (they weren't married, though they celebrated the day they became an official couple and moved into the same apartment).

He heard the wolf cry out, "Kent! Please!" as he fled from the room, slamming the door in his path. In the kitchen he grabbed a knife out of the drawer and slid down the cabinets, hiding himself behind the island. He breathed in hot, shallow gasps, gripping the knife hard enough to make his knuckles whiten.

He waited there for about a minute, allowing himself to calm down. Even though there was still blazing adrenaline pumping through his veins, he began to piece together all the information that his "fight or flight" mind had refused to acknowledge. He hadn't been chased or assaulted. It had Peter's voice and his eyes and even his voice. It was Peter.

Kent's breathing slowly came back to normal and he stood up. He looked over at the bedroom door, which was still shut. As his mind grasped the concept that Peter was now different, his mind began to ask the more important questions "How" and "Why". And though he was still slightly anxious and wary of Peter's new body, he also felt a heavy pang of guilt.

He eased himself back over to the bedroom and opened the door. He cautiously peeked in. It had been exactly as he had left it in such a hurry.

As he made his way back to the bathroom, he could hear soft crying coming from within. He could hear soft, canine whines mixed with the pained sobbing. Kent felt the regretful pang all over again, feeling like the worst boyfriend in the world. He had panicked and ran away when Peter had needed him the most. The same Peter that had taken care of him when he got a really bad stomach virus, holding his head and rubbing his back as he puked up everything except his vital organs and helped clean him up afterwards. The same Peter he had fallen in love with since their first (albeit drunken) tryst at a Valentine's Day party hosted at the same friend's apartment.

He peered into the bathroom carefully, "Baby?"

He saw Peter's large, dark furred body couched over in the bathtub, hugging his knees. His ears were splayed back, and Kent thought that he had never seen as much emotion translated through ears before. Peter quivered softly as he sobbed and moaned.

Kent entered the bathroom but Peter didn't seem to take any notice of him. He kept his face hidden between his knees, his arms crossed over them hiding his face.

Kent was at a loss of comforting words. All he was able to muster was, "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?!" The wolf-Peter snapped at him, looking up from his knees. There were tears streaming down his face that soaked his furry cheeks.

Kent, simultaneously terrified and hurt, opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, unable to find the words.

Peter put his palms to his eyes, rubbing them firmly. He growled out with anger and frustration, "What the hell happened to me?!"

~~~

Kent sat on the couch with his head on his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest, and his eyes glued firmly to the television. He had put it on the local FOX station, though every other news organization was reporting the same thing. Though he could hardly believe what was happening, he was somewhat relieved to know that he was not alone. The world had gone crazy overnight.

As Kent was watching the news, Peter called into work to tell them that he probably wouldn't be able to make it in that day.

"Yeah? Well get in line," Natalie said with harried bitterness, the sardonic tone she reserved for particular days when more than a few people called out with no one else could come in and cover their shifts.

"Huh?" Peter said, slightly confused.

"Sorry," she said, apologetic but still flustered, "I've had like eight people already call out and it's all because of this stupid thing that's going around. I don't know..."

"Why? What's going on? Is everyone..."

"No," she replied, "Not everyone. Just some. People turning into animals or some crazy shit...Paul came in and he's some kind of horse or donkey or something." She paused for a moment, "Listen, are you sure you're not able to make it in? I understand if you need to take some time off to adjust or..."

Peter, who was pacing around the room naked with his phone pressed awkwardly to his ear, said, "Well, I could but...I kinda don't fit into any of my clothes anymore..."

"Ahh, gotcha," she said, her tone softening and becoming more sympathetic, "Don't worry about it. Take a couple days off then, I'll try to find someone to cover for you. I can order you a new work shirt. What size do you think you'll need?"

Peter, who was normally a size medium, scratched his head and replied, "Uhh...maybe an extra large?"

"Jesus!" Natalie exclaimed, "What did you turn into?"

Peter grimaced and shifted uncomfortably.

"Listen, just take as much time as you need. Whole world's gone nuts anyway so you just rest and...I dunno..."

"Adjust?" Peter offered cynically.

"Yeah, I suppose. Take care, hon and I'll see you when you can come in."

Peter came into the room where Kent was still fixated on the TV and sat down on the opposite side of the couch. He chose to sit the furthest away he could be without looking like he was doing it on purpose, though he was. Not in a cruel way to spite Kent, but because he felt more distant than ever from him. He also didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable either.

Kent looked up and regarded the large, naked wolf-person as he sat down. Peter seemed to have trouble deciding where to put his new tail which he was still in the process of getting used to. He was also trying to position his arms and legs to cover up his new genitalia which he found a little embarrassing. Kent was dressed in his cleaning jeans and a plain white shirt, an outfit he normally donned to either do house cleaning or sit around being lazy.

Together they watched TV and caught up on what the rest of the world was experiencing. All around the world, random people were waking up to find themselves in new half human, half animal bodies. There was no evident pattern to who was transformed and who wasn't. Scientists were quickly scrambling for an answer as to what might have caused this phenomenon. They looked at blood types, hereditary traits, DNA, and anything they could think of but there was no discernible evidence that they had any impact on the transformations. They estimated from the reports coming in, that about 10 to 20 percent of the human population had become some kind of humanimal (or 'furries' as they media eventually dubbed them, even though in a somewhat ironic twist less than 5 percent of the furry fandom actually became furries themselves) and possibly more. The President issued an urgent message addressing the nation, informing citizens to remain calm while the world's governments tried to come up with an explanation as to what happened. The internet forums were already exploding with conspiracy theories while people who had stayed up long enough to witness the phenomenon tried to stay awake as the transformation only seemed to happen once the person had fallen asleep. Some were lucky. Others weren't so.

There were reports of mass genocide from Africa and the Middle East and reports of people being worshipped as gods and goddesses in parts of Asia and South America. The lightning fast process of information came in from all over the world, with scientists weighing in, people tweeting in support of their transformed friends and family, Celebrities and politicians confirming (or denying via Personal Assistants) that they had become furries, internet memes, and somewhere, someone was already working on a human/furry hookup website and phone app. It was all happening so fast and no one slowed down long enough to fully comprehend what was going on.

Peter got up and walked out of the room as Lady Gaga was being interviewed on her support for the people turned into furries. He went to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. He tried to drink it normally but found that most of it ended up on the floor. He growled with aggravation and slammed the glass back down on the table.

Kent sighed and put the TV on mute and went over to the kitchen. Peter had his back to him, looking out of the window, looking out into the play park behind the apartment complex, wondering how the whole world could be going crazy and yet...be so peaceful outside. Cars came and went in the background and children ran about the playground equipment, unhindered and unburdened by the recent events. The sky was bright blue and the breeze, though very chilly, was calm.

He pondered the quiet outside the storm as Kent cautiously cleared his throat.

"Pete?"

Peter sighed softly, "Yeah?"

There was a new gruffness to his voice that Kent didn't like. It frightened him a little and reminded him just how different things were going to be from then on.

Kent paused for a moment and then said quietly, "I'm sorry...for how I acted this morning."

Peter regarded it and nodded. He could easily forgive Kent for his overreaction though it stung deeply knowing that now there was a rift between them. A rift that almost refused to have itself brought up at the cost of their relationship. It was a question, a question of the strength of their relationship. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge what this would mean for their relationship, physically and emotionally.

Kent had studied Peter's new body deftly and cautiously, noting the differences without seeming like he was intently staring. The new Peter was buff and muscular (which may have been a plus, considering Kent had been nagging him to get his fat ass to the gym more often) but was covered in black fur. He smelled different but felt that he could get used to over time. He used to have a dog back when he was a kid and knew just how they smelled (wet or dry). He also noted the furry sheath and balls instead of his 6 inch cut cock, which may have been the most disappointing change to him.

Kent had thought despairingly, 'Oh god, I bet he's going to have one of those weird veiny dog cocks.' That thought alone could have put him off sex with Peter for good.

But more so, he was worried that the new Peter, the whole package, would put him off Peter for life. He didn't want to leave Peter, especially as vulnerable as he was as the person inside the wolf, but he wasn't sure how he'd be able to handle the wolf outside the person.

Peter watched as the children played at the park. Among the children, he recognized the Whitaker's two young boys playing tag around the jungle gym and slide. One of them had obviously turned into a fox while the other stayed human. And yet they played together as if nothing had changed between them (granted they were only 5 and 7 years old).

Kent took a deep breath, carefully deciding each thing he said as he said them, "I...I'm going to go out and get you some new clothes later..."

"Do you still love me?" Peter asked nonchalantly, still gazing out the window.

Kent furrowed his brow and shifted uncomfortably, "Of course I do, Petey..."

"Why?" Peter asked, still in the same emotionless tone.

The pit of sadness in Kent's chest, which he had suppressed for as long as he could, began to rise. "Because I know it's you, Peter... I know it's still you inside there."

Peter turned around to face Kent. He saw big tears welling up in the corner of his eyes, knowing the hurt behind them.

"You think my mind's going to change just because you did?" Kent asked, his voice broken and burdened by the lump in his throat. Kent stepped up closer to Peter until their bodies were almost touching. Kent, who was always slightly taller than Peter, now had to tilt his head back just to look up into the wolf's eyes. Peter looked back down, tears brimming on either side of his own eyes and his lips pulling up in a pained grimace of misery. Kent put his arms around Peter and held him close, rested his head against the warm, furry chest. Peter put his own arms around Kent and held him back, still longing for the days before when he was the one nuzzling into Kent's neck. He could feel hot tears soaking into his neck fur as Kent wept.

"I still love you, Peter..." he whispered softly and meant it. "I always will, no matter what."

"Even if I was a platypus?" Peter said with a sad smile.

This elicited a smile from Kent as well, who backed up and gently smacked Peter's chest, "Don't joke, you ass. I'm being serious here."

"I know," Peter said with a smile, gently wiping away a tear.

Kent looked back up into the wolf's green eyes: Peter's eyes. Peter looked back at him with an expression of renewed love and affection. It was an expression that read that their relationship was not an obligation, nor based on conditional preferences but rather an unbreakable bond of friendship and devotion.

"And if you ever call me 'Petey' again, I swear I'll bite you," Peter joked again.

Kent giggled and hugged back into the wolf's chest again. The air of tension had melted off, leaving behind a sense of renewal. Everything would be different from then on, for better or for worse and Kent decided that he'd ride it out with Peter no matter what obstacles got in the way. Their relationship was validated.

Kent leaned up, standing on his tip toes to plant a kiss on Peter's muzzle. The kiss landed awkwardly and Peter himself was unsure of how to kiss back at that point. His lips couldn't pucker so he just let them sit.

'Oh well,' Kent thought to himself, smiling lovingly up at his boyfriend, 'Just one more thing to get used to.'

Peter leaned down and gave Kent's forehead a soft lick with his velvety tongue. They both looked at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Was that too weird, Ken doll?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Kent said between giggles, "Let's not get into that, okay?"

Peter grinned and gave Kent a squeeze, "Okay....and go wash your face. You tasted gross."

"Asshole," Kent chuckled and let go of Peter.

"I love you too, babe."

Kent went back to the doorway and looked back at Peter, flashing him a loving smile before going. He put on his hat, scarf, jacket, and shoes and left the house to face a brand new world.