The Universe's Mixer

The crone sat quietly in the living room, her hands resting on her thighs, her eyes closed. She was thinking; she was conjuring, and she was planning. The couple that had taken her home were off in the bedroom doing whatever it was couples did when there were strange women in the living room doing the voodoo they do so well. The recent events once more put the City on Baba's bad side, and the little woman was working on a revenge.

The City wanted humans who were animals, or animals who were humans? Baba was going to give it exactly what it wanted. Or that had been the original plan; perhaps she'd still use it, just not tonight. As she listened to the grunting of the couple's rutting, her lips pulled slowly into cruel smile. The City was about to have a problem. A small problem perhaps, but a problem all the same.

With the power it had granted her, the access to its power, Baba started to work a little transformation on the couple in the bedroom. She'd once heard a euphemism for what they were doing, "Making the beast with two backs." Now Baba would make the saying a truth. The couple would eventually die, as their flesh became one. Wherever lips pressed they would stay there. Fingers would lose definition as they fused with the other lover's skin. As the process continued the bodies would be pulled together, so that there was no room between them. The couple lost in the ecstasy - because they were finally together in a way they only imagined - didn't notice that their grunts, groans, and moans were lost in what was once their throats.

( Her eyes opened when she felt the transformation take. )

Hank leaned against the desk, eyes drooping closed as he pushed up his glasses and rubbed his face, letting out a deep sigh.

Days and days of study and research, carefully examining the so-called "werewolf" blood and then later samples from a few patients he'd been able to get ahold of after the cure became popular. The differences were there, but he was still looking at how what really affected everything, and whether or not it was translatable to his own natural condition.

Finally, however, the coffee and twinkies' effect couldn't keep going, and the youth had to admit that he needed sleep. He'd planned for this, taking an old, busted gurney that the hospital didn't want anymore and sticking it in the back of his lab, but just as he'd stripped off his jacket and button-up shirt and leaned forward to fall into the bumpy mattress an alarm from the computer went off.

( Hank jerked up, a surge of adrenaline waking him completely )