You break into a run with Charles, desperate to escape from the assault. You break into a full-tilt run from the attack, stumbling your way toward a nearby cave.
“Hurry!” Charles screams, pointing to the cave mouth.
You are about to shout a reply when you hear a swooshing sound echo through your ears. Instinctively, you swat at the noise, bringing your left hand into range of
the tiny fangs. The bat takes advantage, plunging its teeth into your flesh. You scream as it latches on and begins siphoning your blood.
Charles dives into the cave, sending the bats scattering away. You stagger toward the entrance, crying in pain as the winged predator drains your flesh dry. You
feel suddenly sick, as a rolling wave of nausea cascades through your body. It’s almost as if the bat is poisoning you as it feed upon you.
On wobbly legs, you fall into the cold ground of the cave. The bat suddenly detaches itself from your skin, flapping away in satisfaction. You ache with pain, and
despite your nausea, you feel a sudden pang of hunger.
“Shit,” Charles winces, moving to help you up. You refuse, content to lie on the cold ground. The dampness of the cave feels oddly comfortable to you. You
struggle to your knees, clenching your throbbing hand. It is extremely discolored, and twitches violently. Curiously, the blood has already clotted.
Charles backs off, a puzzled look on his face. “We’ll have to get you to a doctor, soon as we can get out of here.” He scopes out the smooth, dank surroundings.
“Wonder why the bats didn’t follow us in?”
Find more food. The voice comes unbidden into your mind. You glance around, but can see no one. The strange hunger gnaws at you more fervently, and you
catch a delightful scent wafting into your nose. You follow it, tracing the aroma to Charles. Your body warms rapidly; sweat dampens your clothing as you lick
your dry lips.
“I thought they liked damp caves like this.”
We do, the voice comes again. Your hand blazes in heat as it cramps into a curl. Fear grips your heart in an icy clutch as you see coarse brown hairs rising from the
bite wounds. You gasp at the sensation of hundreds more sprouting hairs, thickening into a pelt of fur on your hand as your nails contort into long black talons.
Your now leathery skin extends itself along your fingers, webbing them together as they extend and fan out. You grimace as the fur begins to spread along your
arm, then to your shoulders and back. A thick fold of skin slides from your armpit, draping itself down your torso as it connects your arm to your body. You feel
you right hand slowly changing to match as your ears begin to point and thicken.
Charles sighs, still looking away and oblivious to your transformation. “Well, what now?”
Feed, the voice urges. You start to mentally protest, then wonder if you should.
Feed, Sister. Join us. A slight smile creeps across your tightening face, accentuated by your tiny yet growing hollow fangs.