At first, it was hard to keep a straight face. After another second, it was impossible. I burst out into loud, obnoxious guffaws of unattractive bleating laughter. "You… expect me to… believe that?" I panted, on the verge of slapping my knee like an idiot.
Graham, to say the least, was not amused. He shot me an annoyed glare before spitting, "Fine, you may not believe me right now, but just wait until about…" He stood and glanced up at the clock, "About five minutes. Until then, laugh your ass off. After then, feel free to clean my floor with your tears and brand new pelt."
My laughter subsided jut enough to say, "What's going to happen in five minutes, you senile, old man? Huh?" I giggled, wiping away joyful tears.
He gave me an amused look, "Oh, trust me, you'll find out soon-enough."
So I shrugged him off, still snickering at his aged brains imagination. I mean, come on, shape-shifter? I'm a cynical, bullied, fat girl; I didn't believe in fairy tales. I'd lost that great feat of imagination the day I discovered that rolls were not normal for a first-grader to have on their tummy and so did everyone else.
After another minute, I got to my feet, watching Graham Cracker in a suspicious silence. He was scrubbing away dishes at the sink, and just as I was about to ask him if he took any sort of medication, I did a face-plant into the ground. My legs squirmed, arms creaked, neck snapped, fingers curled, eyes blurred, toes shook, and mouth gurgled. Graham Cracker only turned around, crossing his arms and watching me whimper in agony. It was funny how it took me until now to notice his eyes were a glowing gold. Our eyes locked, my eyes struggling to keep the gaze steady as I thrashed on the ground. I couldn't hold it; I broke the silent communication, clawing at the wooden floors for what seemed like hours.
Maybe he really was crazy. Maybe he was doing this to me. Maybe he… Just as my thoughts were about to become much more complex, my entire back arched across the floor. I let out a sky-tearing scream. My skin seemed to rip in half, my muscles melting into oblivion. This pain was double whatever I'd felt before. No, triple. All my bones broke, my skull caved in, my fingernails were ripped off, hair plucked away. Then, just like all the other times before; it stopped.
Something seemed off, but I couldn't see, so I didn't know what it was. I could hear Graham Cracker murmuring to himself, and it seemed as though I knew exactly where he was. Every creak of the house was in range of my acute hearing. That rabbit outside skittering around in the snow, the family of opossums moseying around in the tree fifty feet from the house, an eagle sailing to the ground, my nails scraping jagged scars into the wood were all heard by my ears.
Shaking, I flung my eyes open to reveal Graham still standing by the sink, looking at me with fear in his eyes. But my eyebrows didn't descend in confusion; they didn't move, even though I was very confused. I wasn't an imposing figure, why was he looking at me with such a terrified gaze?
It took me attempting to sit up and utterly failing before noticing the nose in-between my eyes was not a nose, but a… aw, shit.
I had a fucking snout.
My first reaction was to scream; but I couldn't do that. It came out as a horrifying bellowing, deep-throated roar. Though it probably shouldn't have, it freaked the fuck out of me. I scrambled to my feet—no, my fucking PAWS.
I SCRAMBLED TO MY FUCKING PAWS and bounded across the room with FOUR LEGS—NOT TWO,PEOPLE. FOUR.-, and aiming for the closed door. I had no fingers to turn the knob, so I turned around, leaping from the door all the way across the room and down the hallway, bolting into the first door I saw. I flung myself into the bathtub, my eyes adjusting to my dark surroundings and catching sight of a quivering figure from my peripherals-
-AND SAW A FUCKING PANTHER.
Doing another terrifying roar-scream, I leaped out of the tub, trying to get away from the huge cat. I couldn't shut the door, so I just got the Hell out of there. When I got back into the living room, I saw Graham had opened to door, so I gratefully flung my awkward body out of it. I bounded through the snow, still unsure what the fuck was happening to me. I went for the most comforting area: trees. I sprinted into the pine, letting my deformed limbs carefully weave through trees and carry me however far I could go.
Which was apparently a long time.
My legs kept springing me forward; never seeming to want to stop until I was a good few miles into the woods and they melted away. In mid-leap, my entire body seemed to shrink away, experiencing the pain I had felt before, but only for a moment. Then gravity took a hold of me and I landed naked in the cold snow, sliding a few feet into a drift.
Getting to my feet, I clutched myself. "F-f-fuck…" I muttered, trying to disconcert where, exactly, I was.
The good news? I hand opposable thumbs again. The bad news? I think I'm a fucking mythical creature. I could never catch a fucking break, could I? I was about to yell for help when my body melted away once more.
Fuck. My. Fucked. Life.
A/N: Yeah, incredibly short, I know. But hey, at least this chapter wasn't funny, eh? Yeah, sorry about that, there was just no room for humor in such a tiny chapter. The best part? I have no clue if there is any difference between panthers, leopards, pumas, mountain lions, and where the hell Fisher fits in with them. Whatever. I'll make it work.
Hmmm... anyone wanna take a guess at what our dearest Graham Cracker is?
YOU ARE READING
Destined Fur More
Teen FictionOverlooked my whole life, living in the shadow of my brother. I wasn't pretty. I wasn't smart. I loved food and was overall hostile. Maybe this is why no one bothered to tell me I was adopted? Let alone mythical creature?
