I watched, frozen in fear, as the window swung open on its hinges and allowed that creature to start creeping inside. But the moment it poked its head in, the worries that I was about to be eaten by some terrifying predator all melted away. Two long, floppy ears were the first to emerge from the darkness, and the rest of the figure that followed looked immediately familiar to me. That soft white fur looked a lot like the stuff that was now growing all over me, yes, but I recognized it from somewhere else first. The little creature I had seen in the road on Saturday night. The one I had seen recurring, popping up over and over again in my restless, agitated dreams.
Well, the fur was similar, but the figure that was currently squeezing through my window and shimmying down a drainpipe to the floor, its eyes fixed on me, was a lot larger than the thing I'd almost run over on the highway. In fact, as it came closer to me, I realized that it was only a little bit smaller than I was now - maybe two and a half feet tall, while I guessed I had probably shrunk to three feet. And like me, it was somewhere in between rabbit and human: it stood on two legs, it seemed to have opposable thumbs on its hands. And as I was just about to discover, it could speak English as well.
"Oh, I can't believe I finally found you!", he said as he climbed down to the concrete floor and stood over my exhausted body leaning against the wall. And I immediately understood that it was a he, despite the high-pitched androgynous-sounding voice that he spoke with. I wasn't sure how I knew, instantly, that he was male, since his head was pretty much all rabbit-like. But the well-muscled chest below that, bare except for the fur that covered it, gave me a hint. And glancing further down at the sheath he sported, which was a lot closer to my eye level, confirmed it. I realized, shamefully, that my own cock wasn't finished deflating yet, and it was still peeking out of its own hiding place. He must have known exactly what I had just been doing. But it didn't seem to faze him.
"Sorry, I would have gotten to you sooner," he said, "but you humans... and your houses, and your 'cars'... they all sort of look alike. See, this is why I try to stay away from humans, other than this time of year. I never know what to expect from you."
This time of year. I sat up a little straighter, feeling my own ears twitch against the drywall behind me. "You... you're the Easter Bunny."
The rabbit-creature smiled widely, showing off his big buck teeth. "Bingo," he said excitedly. "Got it in one! And I was starting to think you humans were forgetting about us. Easter just isn't the holiday it used to be, I'm afraid. Oh, and you should know - I'm an Easter Bunny, not the Easter Bunny. There's no way I could lay all those eggs and travel all the way across the world in just one night. What do I look like, Santa Claus?"
I had no idea how to respond to that. He just continued talking.
"Yessir, I'm the Easter Bunny for the northwest quadrant of the Hawkeye Creek basin. It's an awfully big territory for one rabbit to handle, but I've been managing it for... oh, uh, three hundred and sixteen years now. But enough about me. I'm sure you're wondering what's happening to you."
I couldn't find the words to respond. I could only hope the look on my face said "yes, obviously," as much as I was thinking it. My nose twitched in frustration.
"Let me explain. I was just trying to cross one of your human roads late one night. You know, to get to the other side of my assigned territory. Then this giant roaring monster came rushing by and almost smashed me into a pancake. At the very last second, it suddenly swerved away from me and crashed into a tree. I saw you stumbling out of that huge beast and I realized, you had just saved my life. And then I saw the blood dripping from that big gash on your head, and I realized you were about to lose your own life in exchange."
So it really had all happened, I thought to myself. I stared back at him, my mouth hanging wide open. That car accident that night... I really almost died? But then how did...
"You were in luck, though," the rabbit continued. "Because all of this just so happened to take place at precisely midnight on a full moon. And that's exactly when my were-rabbit powers start to kick in. I felt the transformation energy starting to flow through me, and I looked at you dying there, and... well... I couldn't let that happen. If I owed you my life, I had to do something to repay you. So I sort of... willed the energy beam onto you instead. And your 'car' beast thing. I figured it might heal your wounds in the process, and I guess it must have worked perfectly. But it also seems to be turning you into a were-rabbit like me."
"Wait," I said, still confused about what he was saying. "You're a 'were-rabbit'...? Is that like a werewolf or something?" He seemed to cringe at the very mention of the word 'werewolf', so I tried explaining what I meant a different way. "Like, you're normally human, but when the full moon comes out, you turn into a rabbit like this?"
The rabbit shook his head. "Other way around. I'm normally a rabbit, but for one week out of every month, I become this sort of half-human thing during the night. Lemme guess, you're still mostly human during the day, and you only look like this at night?"
I nodded. That was basically the pattern I had started to pick up on. He rubbed his chin with a paw, thinking hard.
"In all my years, I've never seen this happen before. But... it makes sense. You must be going through the opposite of what happens to me every month. So every night this week, you'll keep transforming more and more into this hybrid form, half-human and half-rabbit. Soon, the nights will start to bleed into your days, until you look like this all the time. Then, come Sunday morning at dawn, the full moon will wane and you'll snap back into your normal form. I'll go back to being an ordinary rabbit, and you'll go back to being an ordinary human."
That explanation took a load off my mind. I sighed in relief. I had been worried that I was just going to keep changing until there was nothing human left. But having this happen to me for just a few days? It was strange, but survivable. Even if I didn't exactly like what was happening to me, I could still lead a normal life again as soon as it was all over. On the other hand...
"If this is happening because you put your were-rabbit magic on me," I ventured, "can't you just take it off of me again?"
The were-rabbit in front of me looked uncertain. "Not right this second. A surge of transformative energy like that only comes at very specific times. Like midnight on the full moon, or - as I mentioned earlier - dawn on Sunday morning, when it's all over. Maybe I can take it all back out of you then. Maybe. If I can control it well enough." He kept stroking his chin. "I know that some of the other were-animals in the woods around here are humans who change at the full moon. Or, at least, I've heard rumors about it. But I don't know how they got to be that way, and I have no idea if any of them know how to stop the changes altogether."
I was curious. "Could we just... find one of them and ask?"
He sighed heavily, looking frazzled. I had the sense that I had just asked an incredibly stupid question. "Listen," he said, "you're gonna have to learn this eventually, and I don't want to see you finding it out the hard way. You're prey now, just like I am. The other were-creatures... they're not our friends. Even the ones that are prey like us, they'd give us up in a minute if it would get them out of danger from a predator. If we go around trying to ask the were-creatures questions, forget answers, we'll be lucky to get out of there with our lives. And I should know. In the last couple centuries, I've had more close scrapes than I can even count. I might be immortal, but I'm not invincible. And no matter how much of my power you got in you, I know you're not invincible either. So, until this week is over, just follow my lead, don't do anything stupid, and don't try to strike up a conversation with any werewolves. Got it?"
I gulped, then quickly nodded. I could feel the horror in his voice as he spoke, the terrifying near-death experiences that must have been backing up his words. I had started to understand the feeling myself, the instinctual fear of predators that had been creeping into my mind these past few days. To think that those feelings were more than just irrational anxieties, that I could actually meet my death in the jaws of a rampaging wolf if I wasn't careful... I shuddered.
"Speaking of the werewolves," the were-rabbit continued, "I could really use your help. They've been awfully quiet lately - which might sound like a good thing, but their scent hasn't gone anywhere, so not good. I think they must be plotting something. And with Easter only a couple days away... I don't like the look of it. I want you to come with me tomorrow night, try to do a little recon and see if we can't figure out what they're up to. But you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid."
That was when it dawned on me that I was in way over my head. But what was I going to do, say no? To the one person... or semi-person... who actually had some idea what was happening to me and seemed to want to help? "Okay," I said, "I'll follow your lead. Tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it. As long as we can figure out how to break this cur- uh, spell, or whatever you want to call it... I'll trust you."
I looked the were-rabbit up and down one more time. He seemed pleased. I realized in that moment that I was missing at least one important piece of information. If we were going to be spending a whole lot more time together, I couldn't keep thinking of him as "the were-rabbit" - especially when I had to admit that I was just as much of a were-rabbit as he was. "Um, one question first. Can I ask... what's your name?"
"We don't really... have names," he replied. "Names are more of a human thing. I can never really wrap my head around them, myself. I'm just an Easter Bunny. I guess you can call me... Easter Bunny?"
That was going to be a mouthful. "What about... E.B.?", I suggested tentatively. "You know, for short?"
"E.B. ..." He mulled it over. I realized a second too late that with his loose grasp on human culture, he might not even know what the letters of the alphabet were. But it didn't confuse him much. "I kinda like the sound of it. Okay. Call me E.B." He stuck out a paw. I reached out with my own paw and shook it. A pact.