《Shifter》 Part 1 - Meat Baby I stared at the monotonous spiral of my bedroom ceiling fan, its sombre ventilation doing nothing for the uncomfortable heat that encased my skin. I could feel my wife¡¯s breath blowing calmly against my shoulder beneath the sheets, her unfamiliar presence adding to the confusion and insomnia that clouded my mind. What was I doing back home? I should be back in the city working the pet store, not here in the suburbs. Then it hit me. Kevin. I sat up in a start, my eyes scanning the odd shadows cast by the few pieces of furniture. My breath stifled to catch the discernible scratch of his claws against the floorboards. Thankfully, I was met with nothing but the banal chirping of the midnight crickets. I breathed a sigh and leaned my head against the chilled surface of the bed¡¯s wooden headboard. Slowly, my head cleared up, vaguely piecing together the events which had taken place just 3 months ago. - Part 1: Skinless meat baby My name is Daniel Ryan and I am 29 years old. I work at a Pet co. retail store located within the city of Atlanta, Georgia. As the capital and most populous city across the state, it was there in which I had least expected for something extraordinary to impact my dreary existence. As a young boy, I had always burned a passion for nurturing animals, but my inept capabilities and ADD had forcefully removed any chance of me getting into veterinarian work. Thus, I was left with a simple, decently waged managing job at a self ¨C funded pet store, a small concrete stand callously overlooked amongst the epic skyscrapers and vast shopping malls. It was, however, a job which enabled me to work with a variety of animals ¨C which I guess made it a tad worthwhile. The parcel arrived sometime in the early recesses of dawn. I opened the store at 7 and noticed it sitting at the bottom of the steps. It had no address or stamp to be found, save a large tape that read ¡®Fragile, Take Care¡¯ running along its side. I had assumed it to be the chinchilla I had ordered and took it in without question. The only thought running through my mind as I snipped away at the binders was how efficient a company had to be to deliver a 550 mile distance in a single night. What had slumbered within this box was, unfortunately, nothing to the likes of a hairy rodent. Skinless meat baby. That¡¯s how I remembered it: an indistinguishable sack of blood and veins about the size of a pig¡¯s heart. It was wrapped in a layer of pink gelatine coat and could have easily been mistaken for raw refrigerated meat if not for its squirming. I tried to observe it in closer detail, but my thoughts were interrupted by a plethora of screams emanating from all corners of the room. Apparently, its presence had caused the animals in my store to erupt in a fearful frenzy. The birds were cracking themselves against their cages, the dogs chewed at their bars and the cats screamed a chorus of feral indignation. Dazed and confused, I yelled and shushed vehemently in an attempt to shut them up, but my panic only seemed to feed their combined chaos. Afraid of the beasts hurting themselves, I brought the creature up into my living quarters where only Lily resided. Lily was an old, tired finch with a single blind eye. Unlike the others, she didn¡¯t mind the alien presence of this strange being, prompting me to set it down on the coffee table across from her. I then took this opportunity to ascertain what I was dealing with. Had the animal breeding company make some kind of mistake? I sent them a quick email and spent the rest of the day surfing the web, searching through Atlanta¡¯s pet facilities and a variety of wildlife reports, finally entering into the endangered and extinct lists. Was it an egg of some sort? A species of sea slug? Even the animal company had replied stating that my chinchilla order hadn¡¯t even been fully processed yet, much less having already been delivered. So what exactly had been left on my doorstep? Since attempting to identify this creature has been dealt with nothing but frustration, I began considering the more impending questions. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The practical solution would be to send it away to the local pound, or maybe even some kind of animal lab. Let others with the professional capabilities deal with the strange creature. And yet I still persevered from the idea. Curiosity had bitten me like a burr just out of reach and had kept me from doing what had to be done. What had sealed my intentions were a set of instructions printed on a paper booklet wedged inside the open package. They were simple and easy to follow, but had some questionable aspects I chose to temporarily ignore. The paper began, stating that the creature had to be put in a dark and wet location where there was little to no wind. So I filled a plastic bowl full of wet cotton wool, placing it inside the linen closet. I then had to apply a vitamin powder which had been included with the booklet onto the cotton, which I assumed to be some form of fertilizer, spreading it in a circle formation that ended in a cut across the middle. It reminded me of some elementary school science project where we had to nurture the growth of a seedling, aside from the fact that the thing seemed to thrive on darkness instead of sunlight. By then, I had become obsessed with tending to the strange creature¡¯s needs, but as I heard the ring of the counter bell echo from down the stairs, I had to leave it to its own devices for my remaining 4 hour shift. When I had come back, the creature had already changed in both shape and colour. It had burrowed into the damp layers of cotton, its breathing now rising and falling at a slower, but deeper and more pronounced cycle. The veins have indefinitely become more popped and were convulsing horridly with every squirm the creature made. It looked like an organ pumping blood in an entity¡¯s body, except detached from any such entity. A shudder ran down my spine as I continued to examine its gory form, imagining where something of such nature could have possibly originated from. I then reread the instructions and pondered over step 6 ¨C ¡®Apply a few droplets of blood onto skin every 24 hours until it grows approximately a foot in length.¡¯ Blood. It bothered me, but not as much as the step which followed: ¡°Step 7 ¨C Obtain a live animal about the size of a large rat and subdue it near the package before leaving for a few minutes.¡± Step 7 was the last step in the booklet. Holding the small needle over a candle flame, I brought it to my thumb, breathing in deeply.The sooner I got used to it, the better. I jabbed, grimacing at the stinging pain and feeling the warmth of my palm as it ran dark rivulets of blood down onto the pores of the creature below. I pressed a towel against the small wound and brought it to my side, freeing my view of the bloody ritual I had just set into motion. The reaction to the warm blood was instantaneous and swift, the redness quickly infusing with the pinkish skin of the creature. The squirming had halted abruptly, and the bulging veins had begun to converge, shifting into shapes that simultaneously appeared to assimilate form before breaking away into random squiggles. It looked like a fleshy rubix cube hopelessly attempting to assemble itself into its right colours. Then the squeal came. A gruesome, faint noise comparable to the choking of a small animal had screeched from the bowels of the faceless thing.It raised every hair on my body and mesmerized me into a state of both inquisitional awe and creeping terror. I had hit the goldmine. I mean think about it. How many people in the world have observed a similar spectacle? How many dedicated animal scientists would give their lives to have the privilege of witnessing such a phenomenon? I was one in a million. I was one in a billion. I sat rooted in my crouching position, my eyes transfixed at the miracle of life that had descended upon my doorstep. Part 2 - Step Seven I named it Kevin. There was no telling of the creature¡¯s gender due to its lack of genitalia and physical trait of any kind, so Kevin was just a stab in the dark. Sarah began to stir underneath the sheets, her soft hand moving up to rest on my clammy chest. I lowered my breathing to not wake her up, rubbing my fingers along the few strands of hair that poked from underneath the sheets. A sharp pain flooded the recesses of my temple and I groaned, pressing my thumb and index finger along the bridge of my nose. Recalling such oddly distant memories had taken a toll on my stress, causing me to feel both nauseous and dizzy - a feeling very akin to reading too much in a moving car. Looking over the bed, I noticed little hairs scattered across the floorboards. They were dog hairs. It took me awhile to remember Milo, the old golden retriever me and my wife had gotten on our wedding day. He was no longer a puppy when we rescued him from an animal shelter, and was now almost thirteen years of age ¨C loyal, friendly, and who always slept at our bedside. Failing to see him anywhere in the room disappointed me as I felt a need for a familiar sense of security. I could only smell the hints of his musky, washed fur lingering in the air. I turned and pulled the covers down slightly so my wife¡¯s beautiful face peeks just over the edge. I became tempted to wake her up, tell her of my problems and have her comfort me with her soothing and intelligent voice. But yet I didn''t. I felt a sense of uneasiness and was afraid that waking her up from her peaceful slumber would trigger off something bad and unprecedented. So I leaned back onto the headboard and blocked out the pain, recalling the gradual and terrifying growth of Kevin. - For the next month and a half, I continued to change Kevin¡¯s bowl of wet cotton and feed him copious amounts of my blood. What had started out to be an exciting supernatural encounter had become something of a chore - but it did not falter my enthusiasm in any way. It was still extremely satisfying to see a creature borne literally from one¡¯s own blood and sweat grow day by day. It had inspired me, led me to create multiple video diaries documenting Kevin¡¯s development. I remember even having fantasies of compiling these videos together and splicing them into probably one of the most famous nature documentaries of all time.I would gain recognition for not only discovering, but also raising this creature, and hopefully even be allowed to go back to college to earn my veterinarian license. These delusional ideas were what blinded me to the impending consequences of my actions, made me oblivious to the dangers of becoming too fond of Kevin. Back then, I even thought I had found Kevin¡¯s place within the natural world, a creature similar to that of Haementaria ghiliani, a traditional Amazonian blood sucking leech that can grow up to a foot long. It was, at the time, seemingly obvious and how it had slipped my mind was unbeknownst to me. Most importantly, I made very sure to measure Kevin¡¯s size every day - even keeping two written logs, one by hand and another in my computer, detailing both the change in his height and width. Besides being incredibly faster than the ordinary leech, there was, however nothing visibly odd to take note. At least until the tape stretched 30 centimeters. You could tell something was different ¨C even before he had reached a foot long. Kevin had become so active that I had to shroud his bowl in a wire mesh to prevent him from toppling over. His normal pinkish color had turned darker; his veins more riddled and pronounced, and even his scent had turned from its usual bleached emptiness to vinegar-like, almost as if reeking of human body odor. However, I had already prepared myself mentally for such occurrences, and I handled each oncoming setback with composure and accordance. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. During the span in which Kevin had reached to lengths nearing a foot, I had even begun to set up rat traps along the alleyways across the street. It was, however a failed endeavor as alley cats had the tendency of hanging around these parts. All I found were half eaten rats caught on the sticky pallets and cats residing in the cages meant for the rodents. It was frustrating, and I eventually had to settle for store bought mice instead. They were considerably smaller than street rodents, but I figured they were much cleaner and more unlikely to kill my bloodsucking friend. Pet co. had not a single mouse on its premises and I had to drive downtown to other pet stores. It was tedious, but it gave me time to ponder over the events that would follow step 7. I mean I wasn''t expecting anything less than Kevin feeding off the rodent¡¯s blood, but why did it specifically require a live animal? Wouldn''t it have been a much simpler and more humane task to end the animal¡¯s life and spill the blood for Kevin? As far as I knew, only blood was required in a leech¡¯s diet. They do not have to kill to nurture hunting skills like a lion cub¡­ all they do is latch onto fish and large mammals. As I drove back, I caressed the surface of the box containing the white mice, feeling their lively banter behind the cardboard barrier. I''ve always been a semi ¨C pacifist, and watching something getting hurt, much less being fed on would cause me to break into a mild anxiety. I guess that was why I''ve always preferred dogs and cats over reptiles ¨C the mere thought of feeding snakes and lizards¡¯ mice or insects ran chills down my spine. It was, however, an unchanging law of Mother Nature, and I would just have to find a way to get used to it. Besides, Kevin had indefinitely become a part of my life, and like all animals that have been taken under my wing, I would see it through till the end. The animals were silent as I entered the door, their faces solemn with an emotion only human language can express. I was puzzled at first, until the smell hit me. Wasting no time, I set the box of mice onto the counter and made my way up the foreboding stairs. Each step I took intensified the stench that invaded my nostrils, distinguishing a mixture of vinegar, fresh blood¡­ and the dusty smell of Lily¡¯s feathers. My heart palpitated at the worry of Kevin and Lily¡¯s safety, propelling my legs forward and into the door. As I wrenched it open, I was greeted with a sight that overwhelmed my unwitting senses. The linen cupboard door was open. Lily¡¯s cage had toppled over from its stand; its bars and platform were coated with a dark river of blood and feathers. There was no trace of her, and as I took a step in, I noticed the blood had shot out across the room in vicious spits, as if she had been violently torn apart by a feral cat. Using my shirt to avert my nose from the horrid smell, I peered into the gruesome cage, gagging as my eyes fell upon the recognizable striped claws, still holding on firmly to the door of the cage. Beside it was a large hole, the thin bars bent open in a way that made them protrude from the inside out like a flower in bloom. I then noticed a faint trail of blood that inaugurated from the cage opening, slowly tracing it into the shadows of my mosaic curtains. It was there, propped on my floorboard and shrouded in black was where I saw the small figure. There was nothing that obstructed my view of it before me, neither was there any hint of it trying to be concealed. No, it just stood there. It just watched me. Kevin had consumed Lily, and his aftermath had been abominable. Part 3 - A Morbid Power My hands trembled as the images poured in. Images that should have stayed within the dark recesses of the human imagination flooded into every receptor of my brain. I remember. - Being slightly taller than a foot, with lithe outstretched arms protruding too high up his torso, I did not recognise him. Only after he had stumbled into the light could I properly observe his true grotesque form, noticing the greasy, fleshy exterior that was similar to Kevin¡¯s. He resembled a skinned bird with disproportionately long forearms, his tiny head sporting a meaty beak looking as though it were stitched on rather than organically grown. He staggered slowly in my direction, the fragile bones clicking and rattling at every step he took. I backed away slowly, fighting against every urge in my body to bolt out into the street and away from this hellish nightmare. Grabbing a screw driver from the mantelpiece hanging beside me, I put it between myself and Kevin, ready to end the monsters life as soon as he got within arm''s reach. However, rather than going for my neck, Kevin simply staggered for a bit before dropping like a ragdoll, ceasing any sign of further movement. I anticipated the worst and didn¡¯t dare move, staring him down with my weapon in hand. It took me awhile to finally muster up enough courage to creep over and examine the lifeless gimp. I used my foot to nudge and prod his body, flipping him onto his belly where I could get a better look at his fierce little features. Pinkish, translucent skin hung off his body like a wrinkled coat, faintly exposing a fully developed skeletal and nervous system. The muscles and bones however appeared extremely disproportionate and malformed, some to the point of appearing to be completely random and unnecessary. It was as if he were a failed prototype of some organic monstrosity, or the runt of a miniature pterodactyl litter. The worst however, was Kevin''s face. It was ghoulishly placid, viciously scarred and sprouting the most disturbing maw I have ever seen on any creature. However, what unnerved my senses the most were his eyes, not because they displayed alien or grotesque features, but because of something far more unsettling. There was just one. And it was cloudy. Thus I ended up not crushing his head with my shoe, locking him inside a dog carrier with thicker bars. Considering Kevin''s frail appendages though, I doubted he could crawl his way out of a sandbox - much less scratch the surface of iron. It was a wonder how he had managed to pry open the aluminium bars on Lily''s cage. As soon as he was secure, I quickly got to work on cleaning up the mess, spending nearly 4 hours scrubbing at the blood imprints on the walls and floor. I would have to re-plaster everything and maybe even change the curtains and rug to be safe. I didn¡¯t want the room to become contaminated in any way, especially since I had no clue as to how Kevin''s biology worked. What is Kevin supposed to even be? The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. There were so many possibilities as to what could have happened between him and Lily ¨C and none of them made any realistic sense. Eventually I began to detail every thought I had onto my log, slowly analyzing and narrowing it down to just two of the most plausible reasons. I deduced that Kevin had been some sort of strange growing egg the entire time, and when I had left to purchase the mice, he had hatched into the creature that consumed Lily. The second and more complicated possibility was that Kevin had somehow broken through the wire mesh, escape the linen closet, and slip through the crack in Lily¡¯s cage to consume her, later assimilating into a form that vaguely resembled her both externally and internally. Unfortunately, as much as I would have loved for it to be otherwise, If Kevin had turned after consuming Lily in the cage, he would have been far too large to slip back out, therefore having the need to break open an alternate exit. Then of course there was his bird-like transformation and Lily''s clouded eye. It seems as though absorbing and replicating the old birds'' life force did not exclude her aging defects- which in turn would also explain his current decrepit stature. It scared me to realize I had little to no idea of what I was dealing with, and that Kevin could die at any given moment. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. I however chose to not give in, becoming ridiculously determined to do whatever it takes to keep him alive. I ran downstairs and brought up the package of mice, cursing myself along the way for not having chosen smaller specimens. These hulks were handpicked by me at the store to most resemble the size of a full grown rat, and I was now deathly afraid of them injuring Kevin in his weakened state. Even after selecting and subduing the smallest of the pack with a shot, I had become so paranoid to the point in which I decided to tie a string around the rodent''s neck. If anything were to go wrong, I would tug on the string and break its neck. However, things did not play out as I had perceived. As soon as the cage door slammed shut, the mouse neither approached the entity that shared this confined space, nor did it showcase any of its former active traits. It merely wavered around a little, assessing its new environment before looking forward and becoming deathly still. All that moved were the wrinkling of its nose and the rubbing of its paws. This went on for almost 5 minutes, with just the mouse inertly gazing upon Kevin''s lifeless form. ¡®It¡¯s probably the shot, too much of it'' I thought to myself, watching as it shifted its gaze to the wall and then back toward me. I hadn''t noticed at first, watching Kevin lie on his side, but then I turned and caught the glimmer that shone in the rodents eyes. Two dark dots, soulless and black, and yet held an unmistakable emotion that I knew all too well. An emotion I had failed to notice through Lily¡¯s handicap. The raw tentative expression of fear. I began fumbling for the lock, my mind geared on getting the hapless mouse away from the cage as quickly as possible. The iron mechanism clicked and slid, unshackling the barrier which bound the rat to its inevitable execution. Unfortunately, a sluggish, jagged form rose from the shadows within the carrier at that exact moment. I stood there watching, paralyzed with my hand clutched onto the barred door. All I had to do was pull and the rodent would be free, a simple motion which could have redeemed my eyes from the horror of which it would further witness. Even now I am still not sure what immiscible force had prevented me from doing just that... what omniscient being had made me slide the lock back into place. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. Or perhaps it was just an acceptance of the fact that this was what had to be done, that I cared far more for Kevin''s well-being than the life of a single mouse. Maybe I was afraid of Kevin slipping out with it. Kevin moved. What followed reminded me of a scene from a nature show I had watched back when I was a child. It was one of those documentaries set in the great African plains - except it focused on the lives of the smaller, scavenging primates, rather than the lions and buffalo. Their aggressive, territorial banter fascinated me to no end, but it was only during the climax of the show was I both truly captivated and disturbed at the same time. It was a scene in which one of the larger primates had gotten hold of a baby gazelle - a considerable upgrade from their usual diet of savanna birds and insects. The beast tore open the gazelle''s belly and was feeding off of it while it was still kicking. It paid no sympathy, clutching firmly onto the animal''s leg like a drumstick while baring its blood stained teeth at other advancing primates. Kevin''s beak snapped open the rodent''s skull. I then realized it wasn''t the brutality that had triggered this frame of reference but something far more unsettling. There was no sound, not even a squeak that arose from the mouse during its mutilation, almost as if it had given up hope once placed into the cage. The gazelle was too young, too oblivious to the ideas of death that it too simply uttered not a sound as the primates tore into it. I recalled how it had tried to roll on its back, desperately trying to prevent its innards from spilling out the rupture across its belly, trying to ease the pain of the inevitable. I averted my gaze, pretending to fumble with pens as the sickening soundtrack played in the background. In the most part, it was now clear that Kevin was not, in fact, a bloodsucking worm. I brought out another mouse and turned on the camera. Part 4 - Blood brothers It was an infatuation. A disgusting infatuation. I clasped my hand into a fist and ground it against my cranium, attempting to pry the memories open. My brain seemed to be using all its might to both suppress and withdraw the imagery at the same time. This conflicting effect resulted in a splitting fever and a break out of hives on my neck and arms. Feeling as though I would go insane if I lay there any longer, I slid off the covers and carefully directed Sarah''s arm away from my chest. I held my breath as she appeared to stir from her sleep, her mouth opening as if to say something before her body twisted in the sheets to face the other end. I breathed a sigh and sat up, placing my feet onto the cold floor. I immediately noticed that the dog hairs were not just in abundance of where Milo always slept, but the entire room instead. I wondered if I had ever noticed this problem in the past. Milo was probably just getting older and shedding a lot more, but still, this was ridiculous. There were literally a hundred dog hairs glistening in the moonlight every square foot of the room. I groaned and licked my chapped lips, discovering for the first time how incredibly thirsty I had been. Maybe that was why I couldn''t remember things properly. Thirst. Laughing quietly to myself, I shambled drowsily towards Sarah''s makeup table, where we keep the water jug. Quarter full. I slumped onto the cushioned chair and brought out the glass from the drawer. It would have to do. As I reached out for the jar¡¯s handle, something stopped me. There was a brief delay as I tried to decipher what it had been. It was a smell. A smell and a pain. Searing pain which shot into my forehead and stabbed deep into the heart of my memories. I was reminded of something. - Yes, an infatuation. Kevin became stronger. The mice I fed him not only regained the blood like glow in his complexion, but also transcended both the external and internal aspects of his body. I watched the eye heal from just two days of feeding, watched as the skin tightened and grew taut around an increasingly compact frame, watched as the arms shed skin and meat to shrink into sturdier, fibrous clawed limbs. The most fascinating again being the head, completely transformed from its former self, with the beak now morphing and extending into the elongated jaw of a rat. Apparently my inquisitions had proved accurate; and Kevin could somehow assimilate the form of the organism he consumes. He was, however, not perfect at it. From the half bird, half mouse amalgamation to the slightly feathered rodent creature it had become, it was clear that Kevin, like every other animal, needed to hone his curious ability for a better execution ¨C the system of ''practice makes perfect''. At this stage, I noticed the increasing similarities to its feed, but despite its spot on facial structure, perfect white hair and trotters, there was always something off. I had seen it in Lily¡¯s transformation, and I still see it now after the improvements had sat in. There was no placing a finger on it, but it was just always there ¨C whether it be the dark vacant look in his eyes, the erratic movement of his skin, or the way he twitched his head, it was there. If he was thrown in a swarm of identical mice, I would be able to single him out with confidence. ''Horrifyingly glorious'' was the way to put it. I remembered telling myself how rich I was going to be if I pulled this off, how the documentary I had been filming had just turned from millionaire to billionaire status within just 3 days. I fantasized the fame and fortune, fantasized about the excelling relationship between me and Sarah. What I had unwittingly forgotten however, was the darkness that came along with it. A darkness which would be relived the following day. It was the weekend, and I had to go back to stay with Sarah in the suburbs, but I couldn''t leave Kevin alone - especially not with my substitute caretaker. I hadn''t yet told her of the creature, not because I didn''t trust her, but because I was afraid of her disapproval. We have always been incredibly honest in our relationship, but for my wife to know about Kevin would mean she would also have to know about the creature¡¯s diet - and the recent passing of Lily. Those two pieces of information did not go well with one another. Knowing Sarah, she would have crucified Kevin for touching ANY of the animals in our shop, much less beloved Lily - and don''t get me wrong; it was a trait I loved her very dearly for. Unfortunately, this matter was neither of passion nor morality, and to have her become involved seemed unwise and unethical for both our marriage and Kevin''s well-being. There was a right time for everything, and this wasn''t one of them. It just wasn''t. For the past 4 weeks or so I''ve been avoiding our weekends together to take care of Kevin. I blamed it on having to tend to untimely pitch meetings and animal emergencies, but by the third excuse, her voice had already become coated in skepticism. She had every right to her suspicions, and I knew this. Even now, the pangs of guilt were already becoming unbearable and were eating away at my withering conscience. This week however, I had to be smart and compromise, maybe tell her I could be back for just one day. That way, the tension can be cleared up a little, and maybe she would hate me less when I reveal to her what had actually been going on in the store. Maybe she would find a way to understand. It was strange how every other memory remains blurred and undefined and yet her words still resonated as vividly as ever. "Honey..." "No. It''s just¡­ no." "I¡¯ll be fired." "So let them." "...Do you mean that?" "No. I don''t. But I miss you Ryan. I want to see you." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road."¡­I¡¯ll be home Saturday." "Just Saturday." "It¡¯s the best I can do." "You¡¯re lying.¡± "No." "Prove it." "Don¡¯t be like this. It¡¯s for us, our future.¡± "I only see you weekends, is that too much to ask?¡± "Do you think I like it? Do you think Dean would give me any other choice?¡± " ...... ¡± ¡°Please, Sarah.¡± ¡°¡­.Will this be the last time?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sorry. ¡±¡­¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, okay?" "Okay." ¡°I love you.¡± ¡°Do you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± - I cringed my nose. The stench was getting worse, and it was affecting my headache. Where had it come from? Was it the water? I brought the jar to my nose and took a whiff. The colorless liquid that sloshed around the bottom had never looked so revolting. I turned my head and inhaled deeply, pinpointing its origin from a place further away, across the room. It was coming from the bed. - I vowed to tell her the truth next week, swore on my life. I wasn''t sure how I would break it out, but it didn''t matter. Being a liar and raising Lily¡¯s killer was a lot better than being suspected of having an affair - and I was not willing to bring this any further than it was. But I wasn''t going to say anything that Saturday. No, I would spend the precious time we had together to reconnect, let her know that things were all going to be okay ¨C that everything was going to be fine. Ironically, it was the only thing I did not regret. When I returned back to the shop on Sunday morning, there were no barks or purrs to greet me at the door. There was only a sound I had become all too accustomed with whilst living with Kevin. Uncanny silence. And a lot of blood. There was no mystery behind it, no misconceptions. The animals that were still whole lay rigid within their confinements, their sordid eyes following me as I stumbled into the carnage. I counted 4 of my dog cages busted open. 3 of their bodies were strewn about the corners of my store, their skulls split open in a way that looks as if they had been bludgeoned by a dull axe. The last body was what I assumed left the trail of blood leading up into my living quarters. I made sure the room was empty before grabbing the letter opener from my desk. I then moved the bodies of the terrier and the two shepherds out of sight by aligning them behind the counter, covering them in a sheet. Their bodies had already begun to stink considerably and I would have to dispose of them as quickly as possible if I didn¡¯t want it to linger. I then made sure the blinds of the store were shut tight. If anyone were to see the deceased animals, things would get ugly. Now came the tricky part. Kevin had never once bit me. I didn''t know if he could perceive the boundaries between master and pet, or if his instincts centered upon the concept of not biting the hand that feeds you ¨C but regardless, it was an undeniable fact that he had never engaged me with anything other than compliance. I thought back toward his ¡®larval¡¯ stage, and the blood I fed him. Did it imprint some kind of understanding into his DNA? Did it enable him to distinguish me differently from the others he consumes? It was an asinine and impractical idea, but the fine line between reality and fantasy has been crossed many times now, and holding onto unlikely hope felt so much better than flying blind. Anything that could help boost my spirits at the moment were welcome. Mickey was the fourth dog; Mickey was a 100 pound Rottweiler. From the amount of scratch marks along the staircase, I could tell the dog had put up a fight ¨C and from the disembodied leg blocking the entrance to the open door, I could tell it wasn''t enough.I gripped the short blade in my hand and raised it into a poised, striking position. Only the huge Rottweiler¡¯s body was visible as I stepped into the room, his head obstructed from view within Kevin''s cage. I was thankful for that. The body writhing along with the symphony of crackling noises that emanated from the carrier was enough to incite my imagination to its morbid satisfaction. I took a step in, my foot squeaking against a pool of blood. The noises stopped. Mickey¡¯s head was pushed out, his skull split down the middle like the others, jaw hanging loosely from a single end. Then Kevin emerged. I wasn''t sure what I had been expecting at the time, but what had eaten my animals looked nothing like the creature I had pictured in my head. There was no pulsating skin, no exposed rib cage. Kevin looked¡­ well¡­¡­.like Mickey. Mickey, with lighter, grayer fur and blood foaming from the mouth. He stood there, poised like some kind of tainted liger in mid ¨C stalk, his muscular, attack dog appendages straining in anticipation for the taste of my flesh. It was clear then that the small shiv in my hand would do little against the hide of the monster before me, and that my skin would give way like melted butter against those skull crushing jaws. I took a step back as Kevin took a step forward. ¡®No, this wasn''t how it was going to end¡¯, I told myself. Even if he kills me, even if he tears into me while I was still conscious, I will make sure to dig my blade as far as I could into that gaudy throat of his. Finish what I had started, so that no one else could suffer from my undoing. His dark lifeless eyes seemed to grow bigger as he examined me, assessing the level of threat I posed. His ears rose. His teeth sunk back into his blood-stained lips. No, there was no way. Kevin, without shifting his locked gaze, began waving his tail back and forth, his head cocking slightly to one side. ¡®Down¡¯, I gasped instinctively. Kevin lay flat onto the floor. Part 5 - On A Train, Carrying Death Despite my power hunger and obsession over keeping Kevin¡¯s existence covert, I knew when things went too far. I contacted Jimmy in Ohio. He was an animal science graduate, and I had got to know him several years ago during an animal state fair downtown. He was skeptical about my sudden urge to meet him privately, but agreed to free up his schedule the following day. I thanked him and put down the phone hastily. It took every working bone in my body to utter those words, and I was afraid that I would cancel the appointment if I kept the call going. Kevin¡¯s carrier was still intact. Hours ago when I had forced myself to examine the frame whilst ignoring the stares of the creature within, I had found no holes and no bars pried open. In fact, the lock hadn''t even been broken. He had overcome the complexity of the sliding lock mechanism and had worked it apart from the inside. I didn''t even bother wondering how he had managed it without apposable thumbs. All I knew was that despite Kevin¡¯s vacant stares and unintelligible grunts, he was a lot smarter than he looked. I began packing for the trip, bringing along the tapes of Kevin¡¯s growth and my Swiss army knife for all intents and purposes. I then made sure to seal Kevin¡¯s cage with the heaviest padlock I could find. He didn''t show any sign of reluctance as I locked the iron bars together, his empty gaze still boring inadvertently into my skull. It was almost a warning of the sort, an indication of dark, abstained power. I chose to ignore it, my mind set on the day ahead. Morning. 5 am. I left to catch the first train to Ohio, covering Kevin¡¯s cage in a sheet to hopefully mask as much of the ¡®unfamiliarity¡¯s¡¯ as possible. I wasn''t too worried of people noticing anything different, especially since he looked almost like your average Rottweiler, but I was afraid of him being unaccustomed to the busy traffic of the morning crowd. Aside from myself, he had never encountered another human being, and the confusion was very likely. If however, he retained some aspect of Mickey¡¯s thoughts, no matter how small, he could very much remain comfortable in a human environment. ¡®Have a nice trip¡¯, he smiled, waving me toward the entrance of the train. The ticketer had barely glanced underneath the sheet of Kevin¡¯s carrier as I handed him my licence and ticket. I wasn''t sure whether to be relieved or disturbed by the fact that he couldn''t see through the creature¡¯s impeccable camouflage. I set Kevin down in the furthest corner of the lodging compartment and waited until everyone had moved back to their seats in the adjacent section. Lifting the sheet, I shuddered as the two tiny voids of Kevin¡¯s eyes met mine. He was still sitting in the same uncomfortable posture as the night before, his fur now having grown darker and redder to match Mickeys¡¯. Has he been like that the entire night, just staring out into the air? I couldn''t look at him for long, his piercing stare intruding too deep into the windows of my soul. ¡®Stay.¡¯ I whispered, throwing the blanket over the carrier. I then made my way into the passengers section of the train. Settling down, I turned on my cell and pondered over whether to call Sarah to tell her I was fine. It seemed unnecessary ¨C so I switched it back off. My mind drifted back to the old lore websites I had surfed through just hours ago, recalling the notes they had on shape shifters and skin walkers. ¡®Usually a god, a magical creature or a human with the power.¡¯ ¡®Born human but was different. Hideous and hated.Until he learned to become someone else.¡¯ To have gone searching for clues in horror and fiction was a new low. I mean, what exactly was I expecting to find? Some practical explanation for Kevin¡¯s identity in the form of angels and demons? It didn''t matter anyway, since nothing even remotely close to what I had experienced came up on screen. As far as my knowledge stretched, Kevin consumes the brains of his prey. Then he shifts into them. How long did it take? Faster ¨C as he practices. It was a horror movie in the making. I clutched onto the bag carrying the creature¡¯s video footage. Was it worth the wealth and fame to release this abomination into the media¡¯s grasp? Was it right to let the world know of the existence of Kevin? I sighed and decided to sleep it off. With my luck it would have all been some twisted dream. My brief slumber was broken by the presence of a sprightly young figure rushing past my seat. I peeked open one eye to see a boy, no older than ten, bounding down the lane between the seats, his blue sweater too large for his small frame to keep up. I turned away from the distraction, resting my head back against the trembling window..... at least, until I realized where he was headed. Before I could turn my head or utter a sound, he was at the door, pushing it open and slipping inside. He had gone into the lodging compartment. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I couldn''t move, my eyes still processing what had just happened. Did a mother forget to check on her kid? Did she send her offspring to run an errand instead of doing it herself? What feasible reason did the boy have go in there alone? ¡®Once transformed, the individual will become violent and obsessed with eating human flesh. These monsters are the embodiment''s of gluttony, greed, and excess.¡¯ I calmed my senses, reassuring myself that the lock was secure, and that there was no way Kevin could possibly be able to get free. At most, he would struggle against the bars and cause a ruckus - prompting a scream from the child and a flurry of heroics from the other passengers. Any moment now, the door would slide open and the child would walk safely back into the arms of the public eye, away from the monster that I have brought upon this train. My legs were shaking and my face was dotted with sweat. I realized I had been glancing back too many times now, and people were beginning to take notice. So I grabbed a magazine and pretended to read, my ears listening attentively over the roaring of the train tracks - listening for the boy¡¯s return. 5 minutes pass. I drop the magazine onto the seat and make my way to the back of the train, toward the lodging compartment. But I didn''t enter. I knew what had happened and I didn''t want to see. It was obvious from the start and I had simply deluded myself into a willful ignorance that shielded me from the responsibility I had to undertake. I entered the cubicle toilet adjacent to the compartment, and slumped onto the toilet cover. What have I done? What have I brought onto this train? All Kevin needed was several hours to consume Lily. A single day to kill off three of my dogs. All Kevin needed was me out of the room. I should have ran after him. It didn''t matter how solid the padlock had been, how powerful the bars were. He wasn''t natural. He didn''t follow the lines that bound us to reality. He wasn''t meant to be put here, alone, with a human child. And as I pressed my ear against the side of the cubicle, I heard it. Faint against the screech of the train tracks. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. ''Through extreme pain, or extreme emotion can one bring about the true face of a shape shifter. Only then are they vulnerable to death.'' It took a while before the mother went off to investigate. I didn''t leave the toilet, my hands buried in my face. I could hear her frantic calls. The child¡¯s name was John. Then I could hear her scream. The train stopped and the police herded the people from the scene. The small, limp body lay lifeless in the middle of the room. At least, that¡¯s what they told me. I didn''t look for myself. The skull was caved in; likely from the blow of a dull weapon of some kind, possible a fist. The force had been so immense that it had eviscerated the eyes from their sockets. Found later, rolled off into the shadows. I was questioned because they found the dog carrier registered to me busted open. Not because they suspect the creature I had brought along had somehow crushed the child¡¯s head, consumed his brain and escaped through the window of the moving train, but because they needed to know if anyone had the motive of stealing my dog. A motive, which in turn could lead them to the murderer. Of course they had no idea. Of course there was no other explanation for this brutal mishap. Only I had the knowledge, and only I knew of the evidence in the duffel bag they failed to search. I called to cancel Jimmy¡¯s appointment, checking in to the nearest motel. The mother hadn¡¯t pressed any charges, and in a way, I had hoped otherwise. For me to get away with such an obscene act was unjustified and crude. An undying guilt that would forever plague my nights. I felt weak, forlorn and desperate for some kind of reverence to my old life, before any of this shit had sprung into existence. I looked at the dark screen of my cell phone. ¡°¡­.Sarah.¡± ¡°Daniel?¡± ¡°I miss you.¡± ¡°¡­.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°¡­For what?¡± ¡°Everything. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m always gone.¡± ¡°¡­..¡± ¡°Sarah?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°Can you forgive me?¡± ¡°Always.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.Thank you.¡± ¡°¡­¡­¡± ¡°I love you.¡± ¡°Of course you do¡± ¡°Ha ha¡± ¡°I love you too.¡± Part 6 - For Sarah I had removed the lamp shade, gripping the solid stand to my side like a club. The smell did not relent, hitting me with both foulness and a sense of endearing familiarity. Sarah''s smooth form in the crumpled bed sheet was frozen in place. A droplet of sweat ran down my cheek and down the side of my neck. I closed my eyes and listened. The crickets have ceased. This silence was very familiar. - As I lay down on that dingy motel bed for the night, I had hoped for Kevin to be a thing of the past by morning. Unfortunately it did not take that long for me to receive my answer. I remembered being jolted awake by something just two hours into my slumber. I remember opening my eyes to a blanket of darkness. I hadn''t switched off the lights when I had gone to sleep. I also hadn''t opened the window. Something was in the room with me. I could hear him. His rasped breathing and his claws scratching against the floorboards. He was very near. It took me awhile to ascertain where it was actually coming from, glancing at the cupboard and the hallway obstructed from view, but Kevin was, in fact, underneath the bed. I didn''t dare move, afraid of waking him up from his dormant state. I even recall being afraid of him realizing I was awake, shutting my eyes and regulating my breathing to feign slumber. The creature beneath however, never stirred, and I eventually drifted back into darkness. As I awoke to the light of the morning sun, Kevin had moved - his breathing now considerably amplified..... his cold skin wet against the back of my shirt. I didn''t open my eyes. - As I carefully took one step after another to the far end of the bed, I maintained my death grip on the lamp. Shadows shifted in the distance to my right and I spun around, realizing it to be the shade cast by the trees outside. There was a rustling sound and I spun back, watching Sarah pull the blanket tighter around her...... she looked so beautiful in the light. - Kevin sat on the side of the motel room bed, his back facing me. Human skin draped over him, a rippling spinal cord running down the middle. He turned and I looked away. To say he looked human was putting it lightly. He looked hollow. In animal form, it was a subtle aspect, but in human form, it was clear and cut. The difference was too bare, too off-putting. Maybe it was because humans are more used to seeing and discerning the facial features of their own kind, and not too much dogs and cats. It was like a new born baby with a full set of teeth. There was something not right about it. And as Kevin shuffled about with his deeply sunken eyes and lip-less gums, I think it was safe enough to inquire that he did not pull it off. - I stood adjacent to Sarah and raised the handle over my head, praying silently. - The cold metal surface of the sidearm pressed against the skin of my waistband. I had checked numerous times at the gun store, making sure it was perfectly concealed by my pants and shirt. If he were to discover it - given his evolving intelligence, things may take a turn for the worse. I can''t go home. No matter how badly I wanted to ditch everything and run, there was no way in hell I would bring harm to Sarah. Not until it was done for good. I paused just outside the motel, leaning against the swinging door to take a breather. This wasn''t easy for me. I never thought I would be using a firearm, much less at a life I intended to kill. But it had to be done for her sake. Our sake. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Pushing the door open, I was greeted with not the manager, but a young lady in an orange floral dress. Her light auburn hair was oily and matted in a dirty, unkempt manner, but her skin was pale and smooth. She stood awkwardly beside the counter with her knees clicking against each other, her blue eyes slowly turning to meet mine. Vacant. Hollow. Her mouth opened with a croaky whisper, "Daniel." She looked like the dead child''s mother. - I sobbed, taking a step back. I could never harm her willingly - and was I actually expecting this ceramic tool to leave a scratch on Kevin? Why did I not run? Why did I not go to retrieve the axe in the tool shed? I just needed to know. I needed to know if he did it. My back bumped against the wall and I slid against it, slumping onto the ground like a rag doll. My weapon had rolled off into the shadows, but I no longer cared. I wiped the tears that brimmed my eyes and exhaled deeply. You fucking idiot. - I''ve been living with Kevin in this old motel for two weeks now. I laid on my side, trying desperately to fall asleep as the smooth fingers glided against my hair. The creature lay behind me, its body heat radiating against my back and its breath blowing against my neck. I brought her out into the woods. I brought her away from the city and to the edge of the abandoned pier. I shot her until the gun clicked empty. It didn''t kill her. I could feel her body press up against mine, her wet clothes dampening the sheets beneath us. Her fingers caressed my face and curled gently around my lips. "Don''t shoot me again, Daniel." What I would give to fall asleep. She remained in that female body for the remainder that my memory served. I knew she had been feeding, from the blood on her teeth and the climbing number of disappearances in the city, but it was as though she could retain and perfect her form by will. Instead of altering form, she improved on her current one. Glimmering eyes. Skin blemishes. Smiles. It brought me comfort though, to not have to face a different form every day, but it meant nothing. I knew she was getting smarter by the minute, and the way she looked at me, scrutinized my movements, I knew she was learning. - The bedroom walls were closing in, the ceiling spinning. Something clicked in me, a switch of some sort. It snapped me out of my emotional daze and brought me back to my senses. I stood up and took a step forward, eyes transfixed on Sarah. Somehow I knew what had happened to Milo, picturing him in the bathroom tub, his head twisted too far back. Somehow, images of the train incident from an undefined point of view became known, the dark canine leaping out from the shadows with glinting teeth. I remember flames that licked at the cushioned seats and tires of the car I burnt down with Kevin inside. I remember walking into these flames.... What? No. This wasn''t the car. This was the motel room. Why am I stumbling through it as it burns? I look down at the male form that lay limp on the flaming bed, tracing the features on its face with my eyes. It was mutilated, a hole where his left eye should have been. And yet, it was all too familiar. It was me. Epilogue "Why did you try to kill me, Daniel? I loved you. Like her. I loved you" I held the woman''s hand as I led her through the trees and toward the lake. She protested with her words, asking about my intentions, but she did not resist. I looked back and told her everything was going to be fine. She was the child''s mother, her face filled with both intangible joy and fearful sorrow at the presence of her reborn son. ¡°Just follow me Mother, and in time, I will be yours again." I sat in the backseat as my beloved drove his car out onto the hilltop where we were going to rest. I trust him, but I see the fear in his joyful eyes. I watch as he gives an excuse to step out of the car. I know what he intends to do, but I do not stop him. I only feel pain inside. I hear the click of the locks and the slush of gasoline. He does not look at me as he strikes the match. I crouch in the shadows beneath the old motel with my skin ashen black. The flames he had engulfed me in have done nothing but peel away at a layer of my organic shell. I carry the gas as my beloved had before. Why will he not listen to the words I speak, I do not know, but he has forced my hand tonight. He has forced me to become just one. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. I kneel over Sarah as she wakes from her deep sleep, a soft groan escaping her mouth as she squints her eyes open to meet mine. I squeeze my left hand around her throat and apply pressure, hardening the organic fibers in my thumb to insert just beneath her vocal cords. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens to scream, but it is no longer audible. I stretch and extend my right index finger to dig into the soft gap between her eyelid and her eyeball, opening a tunnel into her brain. My throat loosens and I allow the thin proboscis to slide out from its meaty shaft, pushing it forward with my tongue into open air. "Sarah." "Yeah" "I''m coming home tonight." ".......Really?" "Yes. I promise I''ll never leave your side again. We''ll be together. Forever."