Munchies at Midnight.

So when I was bored at work today ( as I often am) I set myself a little writing task. I haven’t ever writen a transformation scene before and decided to add as much unnessesary gore as I could. I guess there would usually be more to this story but for now this is all I have, may add to it later. Not really much to say on this so…enjoy?

Keith sat in his armchair and stared at the TV. He wasn’t watching what was happening on the screen, he couldn’t focus. Occasionally his eyes would dart to the window and stare for a few moments out into the darkness that enveloped the moors outside until he saw one of them moving before he quickly looked back at the screen. The shutter to the garage was open and a cool breeze rolled in and sent the hairs on the back of his neck on end. Keith clenched his fists. He was nervous and when he was nervous he couldn’t help but clench his fists, it was old habit and he had never been able to kick it. Not that it really seemed to matter, at least it was harmless. His stomach rumbles and Keith considers going to the fridge and grabbing something quick to eat, but he could hardly convince his legs to move. Anyway he would eat soon enough.

Try as he might Keith couldn’t stop his mind wandering. He thought about the poor couple whose car he had serviced as they came through his station. They had been a nice pair, had paid him and even tipped, they had smiled at him and joked, even offered him some of the food they had had in their car but he had refused. The woman was pretty, she was very pretty. Her summer frock had been blown about in the wind a bit and the man, tall, strong man, had made a joke about Marilyn Monroe. Keith had tried not to look. He had warned them to avoid being out after dark and they had joked about that too. Stupid people.

There was movement at the window again and Keith looked over to see a pair of yellow eyes staring in at him. He looked away and a few moments later the eyes were gone. Your stomach moans again but not because of the lack of food this time. Sweat starts to form on his brow and Keith wipes it away before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. Outside he can hear them padding around on the concrete surface of the garage out front. He had left the shutter open. Switching off the TV he wasn’t clenching his fists now, he was shaking, finding it hard to even hold the remote. Keith stood and started to cross the room on unstable legs, intending to switch the light off.

And then the pain hit him. A burning, searing pain that ripped through Keith’s stomach like a knife and was so intense he was thrown to the floor. He let out a scream of agony and ripped at his shirt, pulling the fabric from his body with inhuman strength and hurling it across the room. More eyes were at the window now. Small amber specs that stared in at him with grim amusement as the moonlight shone down upon their owners. Keith grabbed for the ever tightening waistline of his jeans, desperate to get them off as well but he was bent backwards as another pain ripped his back. There was a loud snapping and cracking as his vertebra cracked and twisted, warping and stretching into a whole new shape. Keith let out another scream that became a gargled cough as blood spilled from his gaping mouth, bringing with teeth that had been forced from his gums by new sharp fangs. The muscles beneath his skin strained against their confinement as they grew and new hair started to sprout in tufts from all over his body.

The lining of Keith’s jeans finally gave up under the strain and burst, leaving nothing but shreds clinging to the rapidly mutating body. Fingernails dropped from clutching hands as new claws started to tear through the skin and the bones in Keith’s legs snapped to pieces as new bone underneath forced their way through, twisting Keith’s legs into a new shape. His bottom jaw stretched outwards, his new fangs protruding upwards and his screams of pain became simple guttural, feral moans before his top jaw followed suit. Finally his skin, which had been straining and stretching under the growth of new muscles finally failed and it split like the seams of the jeans had. First the thighs gave way, ripping apart and unleashing a torrent of blood, then came the back soon after, splitting down the spins and allowing the new form to push through. Finally the skin around Keith’s face split, first at the corner of the mouth, giving him a gaping Glasgow smile, then the rest of the face tore away, leaving just a bestial snarl looking outwards. Blood burst from the shredded remnants of Keith’s body and the floor and walls were covered.

The thing that was left in the ruins that had been Keith slumped to the ground, hair matted and slick with blood and still quivering as it finished the last of its metamorphosis. Its snout sniffed the air, trying to find the scent of its pack mates and finally locating them outside the door to the room in which it lay. Its clawed hands wiped blood from its face in a bizarrely human act and its amber eyes regarded the room. Slowly it raised itself to its feet and looked around before rearing up onto its hind legs. The blood soaked beast was massive; standing almost eight feet all when reared up it crossed the room in just a few steps and threw its weight against the door, throwing it open.

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