The room swims as you feel the thumping beat vibrate your bones, the bass drum hammering out a galloping rhythm that makes your skin tighten... and veins throb at your increasingly confined wrists. You hold out your hands and gaze as your palms puff up against themselves, the raised skin pads darkening and crisscrossing with new lines. Your fingers broaden with thick power, the beds of your curling nails sinking into the flesh, the roots hot and pushing. Golden hair riffles over your knuckles, and your teeth click against each other as a wave of heat roils beneath your clothes. You can't stop this. You don't know how... you're not even sure why.
Your eyes pulse in their sockets as your breathing heaves, sliding your bounteous curves up and down. You can feel your tongue against your teeth as they slide, the hot coppery tang... of blood. It tastes... good...
Your glance finds Nina panting as much as you are, her darkening lips parted in a gasp, the ivory tips of fangs just beyond those softly quivering lips. Her hand dawdling over her chest, fingers pawing across it as it lifts, almost offered to you... And she is, her yearning eyes surrounded by lush darkness, the irises filling from their pale azure to a simmering electric blue, glowing from within as she looks toward the stage...
There, Frankie and Gerri are windmilling on their guitars in time, twin manes of raven hair flailing like war banners. Even from here you can see the green searchlights their eyes have become. At once, they stop, Lucy striking up a dainty, creeping tst-tst-tst on the high hat... and they part their lips against the standing microphones to sing...
But the voices you hear are guttural, discordant, the pairing of one and the other gnashing words... sounds in a language that you don't know, fangs scissoring, tongues sliding over sounds that make your bones expand and your fingers splay and arch, their voices as broad as their expanding chests are becoming, their heads bowing over as they rise, their legs stretching longer, hair falling over their faces, obscuring them... and the chant, that's what it is now... it's changing you. Changing everyone...
Lucy's throbbing brow beads with sweat as she concentrates on keeping time, her lips quivering and twitching as she fights back a sneer, a plunging widow's peak creeping downward, tufts streaming from her cheeks, the bridge of her nose slowly wrinkling as the cadence of the twins drives her on...
You feel it, the hair prickling from your forehead, and your rough, dark padded fingertips fly there, your gentle touch compressing against soft hair, sending a lock of blond free to dangle from the forelock growing from your skin, wild and ragged, just like the lush wedges you discover as the tips of your claws trace your cheekbones, the mutton chops of fur deep and lush... and enticing...
Jeff you can't quite see beyond the bar, but you do see the hunch of his back as it rocks back and forth. A thick, distorted hand thumps onto the surface, claws scraping as he pounds out his own rhythm. Meanwhile, Jake, much more composed, grins madly as he reaches up to drag from a trembling cigarette, his pencil mustache blossomed into a full goatee that crawls up the sides of his face, his ears laid flat under the weight of his growing mane, amber eyes fixed on the twins on the stage as he rises to unsteady feet...
And Greta, striding to the center of the room, arms outstretched, back arched as her body drinks it in, her clawed bare feet ticking on the stone floor in time with Lucy's tapping, the twins' gnashing chant rising in pitch... and Greta adds her own snarling voice to it...
And you gather yourself for what's coming, unable to stop it, reaching for your ankles, rubbing them as they ache and press outward, your toes curling as you watch her, watch all these people transforming into something more, thick waves of musk pulsing in time with each word, the bridge of your nose thick, your nostrils flaring, your furtive glance catching Nina's face, the end of her nose already dark, like a wolf's, her eyes wild as she too stands...
The tapping rhythm from the stage silent as Lucy's fur frosted arms rise...
And with a roar of guitars and the twins' fanged mouths, Lucy's arms come down...
The room explodes with a rush of motion, and you with it as you leap to your feet, your body raging, wildness in your blood as your mouth waters for the rest...
For all of it. Everywhere.