love's heart is death (![]() ![]() @ 2013-11-18 00:16:00 |
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Current mood: | ![]() |
What the Actual Fuck.
Characters: Aiden, open
When: 9:15 PM, Thursday
Location: his room, then roaming about the house
Warnings/Rating: none anticipated
Summary: Aiden discovers (one of) his mutation(s)
Status: Complete
Aiden wasn't feeling very well this Halloween night, and that was a disappointment. He'd thought he might manufacture some kind of costume and wander around jumping out at people from behind the furniture, but ever since just after he'd eaten dinner, he'd felt hot and shaky and queasy all at once. Food poisoning? Had somebody slipped something noxious into the beef he'd mixed into the box of pasta dinner from the cabinet? That would be very much a trick and not a treat, for sure.
It didn't help any when the power went out. Again. It seemed to be a thing this week, but it was super annoying when he was lying across his bed, stripped down to his boxer briefs because he was so hot, his limbs trembling and his stomach trying to jump out of his body. He almost wished he could hurl his guts so he'd feel better, but nothing seemed to be happening in that direction. Aiden didn't even react when he saw a creepy silhouette in the corner, just watching him for a while before moving toward him. Hell, maybe it would just kill him and he'd be out of this.
That bit of melodrama had him rolling his eyes at himself, then he forced himself to get off the bed and stumble toward the bathroom. If he could cool off, he thought he'd feel so much better. Without even taking off the boxer briefs he was wearing, Aiden climbed into the shower and stood in the dimness, letting the water pound down on his head. Gradually, his queasiness decreased a little, but he was still shaking as severely as someone with a bad case of the flu. His whole body ached, as a matter of fact, and it was a little frightening how suddenly it had come on. Would they airlift him to a hospital if he got really, really sick?
Turning off the water, Aiden exited the shower and stumbled into the counter, finally managing to find the towel and drag it over his hair, face and then his torso. He should get out of his wet underwear, but he couldn't summon up the motivation. "Shit," he mumbled, actually beginning to feel frightened when the trembling and body aches didn't abate. "What the shit...?"
Panting heavily, Aiden fumbled his way back into his dark room and fell to the floor. Something was happening to him, something he didn't know how to deal with. He could feel his body... doing strange things, bending and rearranging itself, becoming something radically different. He opened his mouth to call out, to protest, to say something-- anything-- but no words would come out. Something that sounded like a choked whine emerged. At least he didn't feel shaky anymore, he realized as he pawed the sodden fabric off his body and got up. Onto four legs.
What? What the fuck?
He hurried over to the dresser, saw a whitish blur in the glass and felt puzzled by the fact that he should be able to see his reflection and couldn't. He vaulted upward with his hands... well, what should have been his hands, planting them on the surface. The room was dark, but not dark enough that he couldn't see that what had been a reasonably handsome man was now a dog. "This is not fucking funny," he tried to say; what came out of his mouth was a low, raspy bark. Aiden seemed to be a large, black and white spotted dalmatian.
Fortunately for him, he hadn't shut his door all the way when he'd retreated to his room, and he was able to open it by butting his shoulder against it. It swung free and let him out into the hall. Aiden was literally an animal, and he was petrified that he was going to stay this way. What was happening? He tore down the corridor and took the stairs to the first floor, panicky and overstimulated by his suddenly oversensitive hearing and sense of smell.