The Universe's Mixer

Amelia had always considered herself a clever woman- more clever even than most men she had encountered. Her skills of deduction were admired by many; even her beloved husband occasionally, albeit grudgingly, had admitted to admiring her intelligence. Yet for all her reasoning, this was one puzzle where the solution continued to elude her. ( A puzzle... )

Crowley tossed a handful of bread piece into the pond at the park. After having gone through this routine numerous times with the demon, the ducks were a touch wary of the food given to them. They wanted the bread pieces but at the same time they wanted to live and going after the bread ran the risk of finding themselves submerged and unable to return to the surface. He smiled, briefly, at their reluctance. Whoever said waterfowl were stupid creatures, were daft themselves. The ducks had learned a fear of the demon and what he provided, as was just as well –he had been considering killing one or two of them out of boredom.

( Though, how he could be bored in a city that provided him the opportunity to find things of interest to do, was anyone’s guess. )

The wound had healed quickly. Eric had returned to his search for Baba Yaga, not thinking anything about what had happened with her insane cabin, except for the fact that he was going to have to tell her it was fully a chicken now, and that it had pecked him. For a very childish reason, he was looking forward to telling her about that latter part. She wouldn't be happy with it, and surely she would know a punishment that would befit the occasion.

But he started to feel very strangely within the hour. Sick. Not like exposed-to-silver sick, or out-in-the-sun-too-long sick, but sick like he hadn't been for a very long time. Sick like he'd been when he'd been a human, for all that he could remember of it. He began to sweat. Unflattering, bloody sweat covering his body with a slight sheen. His stomach felt upset and he had the chills. Eric found himself shaking, shivering, actually. A condition that he'd not ever even once thought of since being made.

Thrown off of his course, he found himself at Fangtasia without realizing that's where he'd been heading. He burst through the front door and pushed his way past empty chairs and confused employees to the back rooms. It was not yet time for the club to open. Still too early in the night. He locked the door to his office and leaned heavily on his desk, trying to figure out what the feeling was. Or where it had come from. The only odd thing that he'd encountered since waking was the chicken cabin chicken.

Could it have infected him somehow?

He was about to sit down, but doubled over instead. His body was twisting on the inside. He could hear things moving. Feel things moving. His nose ended up very close to the carpeting, and he shut his eyes tight against the things that he was feeling. He couldn't be dying. Not now. Not before he had the chance to really experience some aspects of this place. Not from some fucking monstrous bird flu.

But the pain ceased almost as suddenly as it had come on, Eric opened his eyes and found them still close to the floor, but when he straightened up, his vision didn't get very different. He was still about level with everything. Certain he was at his full height, Eric looked around. Everything seemed so much bigger. The chairs looked as if they'd been made for giants. The desk looked like it's own planet.

Moving not as quickly as he felt he should be, Eric got to the chrome leg of a chair to have a look at himself. What he discovered was not a thing that made him very happy. Looking back at him was the face of an animal. A bat. A very small bat.

"This is fucking humiliating." The voice that came out was just as tiny as the body. Unable to open the door, he squeezed himself under it, then easily gave in to the instincts the body possessed and left the club on a pair of leathery wings.