As Aron's laughter calmed to a satisfied grin, Ozzy looked out the glass doors of the store they were now in. It was a small convenience
store, but there was no one in it, dead or undead. The emergency lights were on, casting deep shadows in the large space.
"C'mon, Aron, let's see if we can find anything useful in here."
The food section yielded energy bars and drinks along with bottled water and one of those rotisserie chickens cooked for customers who
didn't want to have to make supper. There was a shotgun behind the counter with a box of shells that the clerks used for protection and
multiple cutting tools from the deli section. After stocking up on food and weaponry, Ozzy cut the chicken and the two young men used
the counter as a table.
Memories of Jack's mutilated corpse made it hard for Ozzy to stomach the chicken, but he knew he needed the protein and energy if he
and Aron were going to even try and survive. Which reminded him...
"I thought you were a vegetarian?" Ozzy asked as Aron wolfed down mouthfuls of chicken.
"I was," he said with his mouth full before swallowing. "But one, we're in a survival situation; and two, I've seen some pretty gruesome
stuff today. Right now, I couldn't give a shit less that this chicken had its head cut off."
Ozzy chuckled at this and scratched at the back of his neck. Ever since coming into the store, he'd been fairly itchy. He shrugged it off
as nerves and continued eating. But he noticed that Aron seemed to be scratching a lot, too.
After their lukewarm chicken dinner, Ozzy and Aron packed their supplies into Aron's backpack (he had stocked a flashlight with extra
batteries and a pocketknife as well as a box of Poptarts before finding Ozzy). As they searched the place for any more valuables—they
found some rope and a metal pipe—Ozzy began scratching even harder.
"Damn! Why am I so itchy?" he grumbled out loud as his body erupted with extreme iritation.
"You too?" Aron asked in a similar state of trying to scratch his whole body at once.
Suddenly, Ozzy felt his body begin to shake as he grew another foot to seven foot two inches and became much more muscular,
ripping his shirt off of his body. He now saw why he was so itchy: his body was covered in brown fur, growing fast and spreading. He
looked over and saw Aron with identical hair issues, but he was shrinking rather than growing. Their faces contorted and their bones
rearranged making them more feral than human. Tails shot out of each, Ozzy's short and fluffy, Aron's long and smooth. Ozzy remained
on two legs, but his arms lengthened, allowing him to take a four-legged stance easily. Aron, on the other hand was forced to go
quadrupedal as his body shifted to its new stance. When the tranformations completed, the two boys had been replaced by an
extremely large wolf and a double-sized housecat.
"What the Hell just happened?" Ozzy rumbled in a deep but smooth baritone.
{ We've become werecreatures,} Aron's voice entered Ozzy's head. { You're a werewolf and I'm a werecat.}
"Ha! You got turned into a cat!"
{ I wouldn't be laughing if I were you,} Aron scoffed mentally, {Werecats have magical abilities that werewolves don't. Not to mention
being able to transform at will.} With that, Aron reshaped into his former self, but with much more pronounced canine teeth. "You, on the
other hand, have to wait until you trigger is deactivated, whatever it is."
So the fully clothed human Aron and half-clothed werewolf Ozzy gathered their supplies and ventured back out on the street. Ozzy
carried the Glock and pipe, Aron the shotgun and bat. Both had various knives in their pockets. They stepped out, looking all around
before leaving the relative safety of the store.