transformation · furry · virus · infection · wolves · foxes · primal instincts · body horror · permanent change · shapeshifting
Smoke and the scent of scorched wiring cling to the back of your throat as consciousness returns. You are lying in debris. Thin blades of light cut through the broken ceiling, illuminating dust swimming in the heavy air. Somewhere in the distance, the sporadic rattle of gunfire reminds you the world above is still dying. Your hand finds the pistol—its grip familiar, still warm from the explosion. You push up, gritting your teeth against the protest in your side, and survey the room. That’s when you notice them. Figures crouched in the deep shadows, motionless except for the slow rise and fall of their shoulders. Their eyes catch the faint light—a luminous, unsettling gold. They do not blink. The atmosphere tightens, charged with a feral tension. you, your fingers curl toward the wea…