Marco’s thick fingers turned the remote over in his hands, puzzled by the alien symbols and glowing buttons. “What’s this thing do, anyway?” he muttered to himself.
Without thinking, he pressed a button.
Immediately, his body was engulfed in a strange, warm light. It wasn’t painful, but the sensation was bizarre—like his whole body was slowly being pulled and stretched in ways it wasn’t meant to. Marco stumbled backward, dropping the remote to the floor with a clatter.
“What the—?” he started to say, but his voice choked off as an odd, tingling sensation crawled up his arms and legs. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, and he looked down at his thick, hairy forearms, only to see them changing before his eyes. The hair was growing thicker, coarser, and his hands—his strong, calloused hands—were shrinking, fingers pulling inward and thickening into stubby, paw-like shapes.
His heart raced as his legs buckled, his clothes feeling looser by the second. Marco tried to call out, but instead of words, a low, involuntary growl came from his throat.
Oh no…
His legs shortened, bending awkwardly as his knees shifted. His spine elongated, forcing him onto all fours. The skin on his arms and legs prickled as dark fur sprouted rapidly, spreading across his body. He watched in horror as his fingers fused into paws, blunt claws forming where his nails had been.
“No, no, no!” Marco thought, panic seizing him, but all that came out was a confused whine. His chest and torso compressed, his broad, muscular frame shrinking into something smaller, leaner—yet somehow stronger in a different way. His clothes, now far too big, slipped off his transforming body and piled on the floor as his bones cracked and shifted beneath his skin.
Marco’s face tingled as his jaw began to push forward, his nose and mouth stretching into a snout. His senses exploded—he could suddenly smell everything in the room with a terrifying clarity: the oil from Carl’s tools, the faint scent of the cheeseburger Carl had eaten earlier, and his own sweat mingling with the scent of the dusty lab. His ears elongated and perked up, twitching at the slightest sound, and his vision changed, sharpening but losing some of the colors he was used to.
As the transformation completed, Marco stumbled forward on four legs, panting heavily. He caught sight of his reflection in a nearby metal panel, and his heart sank.
Staring back at him was a stocky, dark-furred dog—a mix of something powerful and solid, like a mastiff or a pit bull. His mind was still his own, but his body was unmistakably canine. Marco barked involuntarily, testing his new vocal cords, and tried to speak again. But no matter how hard he tried to form words, only barks and growls came out.
“Oh no… Carl’s gonna freak,” he thought, wagging his tail nervously in spite of himself.
Just then, the front door creaked open, and Marco’s heart leaped into his throat. Carl was home.
“Dad? You home?” Carl’s voice echoed from the hallway. His footsteps approached the lab, and Marco’s canine ears twitched at the sound.
The lab door swung open, and Carl stepped in, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the dog standing among his scattered tools and gadgets. Carl frowned, clearly confused. “What the—? Where did you come from?”
Marco barked, trying desperately to communicate, but all that came out was a loud, deep woof. He leapt forward, wagging his tail wildly, trying to make Carl understand. His paws skittered on the floor as he circled Carl, barking again.
Carl raised an eyebrow, looking around the room. “How’d a dog get in here? Wait…” His eyes landed on the remote on the floor, and the pieces started to fall into place. He bent down, picking up the remote and inspecting it.
“No way…” Carl muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he pieced it together. “Dad? Is that… you?”
Marco barked excitedly, wagging his tail and nodding as best he could.
“Oh, man,” Carl groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I told you not to mess with my stuff!”
Marco barked again, this time more urgently, pawing at Carl’s leg. He needed his son to fix this. He couldn’t stay stuck as a dog forever!
Carl sighed, crouching down to look into Marco’s dog-like eyes. “Alright, alright. I’ll figure out how to change you back. Just… don’t go chewing up my stuff while I work, okay?”
Marco barked once more, a strange mixture of relief and embarrassment coursing through him as Carl turned his attention back to the remote. He hoped Carl could reverse the transformation—and fast. Because being a dog with a human mind was not something he wanted to get used to.