BecomingFurry Written by Sumdumguy For writing prompt at Writers Crossing Arthur Raccoon grabbed the gun pointed at him with both paws, and lined it up with his own center of forehead, met the eyes of the shooter, then lowered his head closed his eyes, waiting for the kill-shot... [Monday morning, 8am] Arthur could feel eyes on him as he walked into the office. Everyone there stared as he passed them in the hall. Makes sense. I'm one of the first to get the DNA treatment to go furry. Not many other raccoon IT people here, he thought. Getting to his cubicle, Arthur dropped his laptop, and took a hit of coffee. He heard others approaching, and could smell 2 humans. His supervisor, Jack, and Marlene, the help desk tech. Jack smelled of nervous sweat, cheap aftershave and a faint smell of a female. “Hey there, Bill. How are you after your operation?” Jack asked. “It's 'Arthur' now Jack. I'm no longer human. I go by 'Arthur Raccoon'. The broken human is dead.” Arthur said. Jack smelled less nervous. “So you did all this to fix your back problems?” “Yes”, said Arthur. “My lower back is fixed. The muscle weakness the legs had is fixed. The uh, related 'bathroom issues' are fixed too.” referring to his previous urinary incontinence. That failed 'Dependibles' event had been embarrassing during that meeting last May. Marlene spoke up. “It's different to be looking down at you instead of straight on.” referring to his former 6 foot height. Arthur now stood 4 foot tall. “Marlene, forget the height, you know I look way sexier with all this fur.” Arthur joked. Marlene reached out and pet his head. “Hey, no more bald head!” she said laughing. He had formerly been a full human, balding, with spinal issues from scoliosis causing him more and more issues. He had signed up for a bunch of studies and experimental treatments, and finally he was approached with the possibility of a DNA recombination treatment that could almost literally rebuild his back. The $150K dollar price tag was an issue. He didn't have that kind of money. Some searching around found a way cheaper treatment, in Mexico City. $32,000 USD later Bill Jamesson walked out of treatment as the first Anthro Raccoon Database Administrator. “Hey, why don't we all do lunch later?” Marlene suggested. “Sounds good to me.”, Arthur said, getting to work on troubleshooting a database report, when his cell phone beeped at him. After Arthur fixed the report to read “Dear [customer name]” instead of “Rich Bastard” for customers over 1 million dollars he glanced at his cell and read his messages: Russian Mail order bride – delete Nigerian Prince – delete Fox worthy Blood Donations on site this week - delete Please fill your prescription IMMEDIATELY- open and read. “Mr. Raccoon, your new treatment needs medicine for the first 3 months to keep you stable. Please fill the following RX 1763889 at the nearest pharmacy to avoid issues.” Arthur called the local Walgreens and gave the RX number. It was pulled up, he confirmed his information and started to fill the prescription when he found out the cost of 'DinaHabitrol'. The drug would cost $31,000! Arthur called the number of the Mexico City clinic. Making a quick phone call, he was connected to a voice babbling in rapid-fire Spanish. “I don't speak Spanish. Do you speak English?” he asked. “Yes, I speak English. Who you?” “I just had treatment in Mexico City. Bill Jamesson. DNA re-sequencing.”, Arthur began. “No refunds!” said the voice. “Huh? What are you talking about? I just need medicine. Drugs.” Arthur tried to explain. “No sell drugs here. La Medicina only. No Mary Jane. No cocaine.” said the voice. “I only need La Medicina. DinaHabitrol.” said Arthur. “Wait” said the voice, and in the background Arthur heard chatter in Spanish. The voice came back on the line and asked for his address, and asked for a credit card number. Arthur gave his info. “OK, I have delivered. 2 weeks! OK?” said the voice. “Wait! Faster. I am almost out of my pills now. I need la medecina...” trying to remember his knowledge of Spanish from 'Speedy Gonzales' he said “‘Undale Arriba!' to which the clerk laughed. “You trying to say 'Above' 'come on!' to me?” the clerk asked “You trying to take me up the stairs?” Arthur was embarrassed and said nothing. “I tell my husband a 'Gringo' wants me upstairs today. I think you mean to say 'enviar más rápido' that means 'send more fast', Senior Gringo” she said with a laugh. There was a pause and Arthur could hear her chattering in rapid fire Spanish again, and heard other voices laughing loudly. Then the clerk came back on the line. “Si, I charge more $100 Dollars and courier bring today, OK?” asked the clerk. Embarrassed that Cartoon Spanish did not work, Arthur agreed just to get off the line. He needed this medicine to keep his DNA stable until his own was fully integrated. [Monday evening, 530pm] Walking in his front door Arthur said “Hi” to his wife, Amanda. She was sorting the mail, but put it down to come see him. An awkward kiss on the side of the muzzle followed by an ear scratch was his reward. It was different but nice. Bernie, the pit bull trotted up, took a curious sniff, and once again tried to figure out what he was. Sniffing the air, Arthur could sense curious/confusion because Arthur smelled both like himself and a raccoon. Arthur reached out a paw and pet the dog, handing him a treat at the same time. Bernie decided the new smelling master was good enough to take treats from and started drooling for another one, all over the hardwood floor. Yucky dog! Arthur tossed him another couple treats, which he raced off with to the other end of the house. Giving the treat a sniff, Arthur didn't sense anything bad. Opening his mouth and chewing up the crunchy bone shaped doggy snack, he decided it wasn't bad, as he heard a car approaching outside and parking out front. As footsteps approached, he walked up and answered the door. A young guy was there, probably 20 years old, holding a paper bag. “Yo, delivery for 'Arthur Gringo Raccoon', you him?” asked the kid. “Yes, that's me”, said Arthur, reaching for the bag. He signed a piece of paper, and was handed a brown paper bag. Opening the bag he found a bottle of pills, handwritten on it saying “dino Habitat-torrel”. The bottle was dirty, and the label had been reused and rewritten on several times. “Hey, how do I know this is the right stuff? Look at this! It’s disgusting looking.” Arthur complained. “Yo, I'm just delivery, but the boss-lady said 'Tell the gringo this medecina only costs $357 US Dollars. You want pretty then you pay $5000 like others', “replied the courier. Arthur kept the bottle. [Wednesday 2am] A couple nights later, Arthur had an odd dream. Time for food. Creeping off the soft thing he was sleeping on, he dropped silently to the floor. Sniffing he could smell Big Ones/heavy sweat/scent. Stopping he heard nothing moving around. Only sounds of snoring Big Ones. Creeping out, he could scent 'crunchies'. Following his nose he found a plastic bag and ripped it open, eating. Arthur woke up with a mouth full of Doggo-Bones. He finished what was in his mouth and looked around. There was a shredded bag with Doggo-Bones all over the kitchen floor. Sleepwalking is a new thing for me Arthur thought, putting the swept up bones in a plastic bag. Any scraps left behind would be eaten by the dogs. One drink of water later, Arthur was crawling back into bed with Amanda and drifting off to sleep again. [Wednesday morning, 8am – at the office] Beginning to get hungry, Arthur decided he would grab some breakfast soon. Being up way early always made him want a good breakfast. Hunger. Eat soon. Following some faint memory, Arthur went into the break room. Food! Foodsmell. No others to share with. Eat! “Arthur, are you OK?” Marlene asked. Surprised, Arthur looked around. He was sitting in the middle of the break room floor, holding a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet. The jar said “Mary S”. His muzzle had been stuck inside the jar, eating the peanut butter right from it, licking it out with his tongue. Arthur was embarrassed and shocked. His paws and snout were coated in peanut butter, his red polo stained. “I must have been sleepwalking or something.” Arthur said, sounding confused. “Why don't you go get cleaned up in the men's room, I'll throw the jar out for you. Mary is on vacation this week, she won't even notice if you replace her jar of peanut butter before she gets back.” said Marlene. Arthur cleaned himself up, washing his paws and fur in the bathroom sink. The rest of the day was uneventful. [Thursday morning, 3am - home] Nighttime. Smell of Big Ones. No danger, sleeping. No smell of Boom-killer. No hunter smell. Sniff female. Not in heat. Wait. Get water. Walking through the house see water on floor in “bowl”. Drink. Not fresh. No fish/bugs/snacks in water. Smell canine. Turn and see man-dog-slave. Dog claim water? HISS AT DOG. Piss on floor next to water. [Thursday afternoon, 11:58am] Arthur was sitting at his desk, designing some SQL code to generate a new report. Starting to get hungry, he dialed the help desk. “Help desk, Marlene here, how can I help you?” “Hey Marlene, Arthur. You want to do Chinese for lunch? Meet at 12:30”, he asked. She agreed. Just before 12, Arthur was considering lunch. General Tso's Chicken? Boneless ribs? He could smell someone else had Chinese earlier. Food smell. Hunger! Eat now, before food gone! No hunger-starve-death. Eat! Good food! Meat! Tasty sauce. White tastes bad but eat. White makes squeaky break-sounds when chewed but inside-food-good! Styrofoam tastes like absolute shit Arthur thought. Looking down, his head was inside a trash can! He had a mouth-full of garbage Chinese takeout from the trash! Arthur spit out the Styrofoam into the trash can. Looking around, Arthur could see half the office staring him. Arthur got up and ran away from the crowd, heading to the IT office, which was separate. He could hide in here. Danger-fear-hide. Wait. Danger pass soon. No smell of meat eaters. Smell of Big Ones. No smell of boom-killer; no trace of gunpowder or gun oil. Huh? Why was Arthur thinking about firearm smells? Weird. He sat and waited. Soon Jack appeared. “Hey Arthur, sit and relax. What happened to you out there?” he asked, smelling confused/fearful. “I just don't know, Jack. One minute I was thinking about what to order for lunch, and the next minute I found myself eating from a trash can!”, said Arthur Jack was speechless. He didn't know what to say. Marlene spoke up. “Arthur, why don't you wait ‘til the office clears a bit, then go home for the day. Call your doctor.” “That sounds like a good idea.” Arthur agreed, red faced Marlene came over, and rubbed Arthur's head. He smiled a little bit, still red faced. Big Ones here. Female. Female in heat? Sniff. Ready to Mate? Arthur found his nose stuck in the crotch of Marlene. Luckily she wore pants today. She looked at him, completely shocked. He jumped back. What the fuck was wrong with him? Both he and Marlene were married. Arthur shook his head, felt instinct starting to take over and smashed his head into the desk. The pain helped him focus. “I'm sorry! I have to go!” apologized Arthur. “Arthur, wait!” called out Marlene. Escape! Get away-hide! Big Ones here. Threat? Run! Find way out! Escape! Arthur ran towards the door on all fours, charging like a wild animal, then slammed into it. He couldn't remember how to turn the knob, and bounced off the magnetically locked double doors. Turning, Arthur charged the back wall, saw no way out and started bouncing off the other 2 walls, climbing on counter tops, knocking over monitors, laptops and other assorted things. Jack and Marlene got out of the IT office and slammed the door shut while Marlene called 9-1-1. After a few minutes, the noise inside stopped, and Jack opened the door and looked inside. Arthur was sitting on the floor quietly. The feral look gone. “Jack, I'm so sorry! I have to go! I need to get out of here and see the doctor!” Arthur said frantically. “Just stay there, Arthur.” said Jack in a soothing voice. “We have help for you coming.” The door opened halfway and someone called out “The police are on their way, Jack.” “The police? You called the police on me? “Arthur asked, getting upset again. Fear. Run-hide. Get out! Predator coming! “Close the fucking door!” Jack screamed as he saw the Anthro co-worker's eyes change to a glazed look of pure terror again. Arthur took off like a shot, knocking down the janitor who had been holding it open, and raced down the hallway, charging towards the large outside facing window. Get out! Escape! Big Ones coming. Hunters! Run. Run! There was a loud “Boing” sound as Arthur's head smashed into the glass at a full tilt run, and bounced off. He landed back on the ground, flat on his back, holding his head from the pain. “My fucking head!” he yelled out, grabbing it. Holding his head, Arthur stood up slowly and looked out the window. No cops yet. Just the blood bank van, taking donations somewhere in the building. He ran down the hallway, out the back way. Run! Predator coming! Fear-hate-run-death-coming! Arthur came to in the shower. For some reason the building had a shower next to the bathrooms. He was sticky and smelled of blood! Looking around he saw the tub and the whole room was literally covered in human blood. Arthur was terrified, worried he was going to find a dead body somewhere, until he saw a shredded “blood donation” bag on the floor, next to a plastic meat cleaver? Written on their cleaver was “Donation Center Complaint response.” Arthur managed to run out the back door, and get to his car, taking off, pinching his leg to keep his concentration on staying 'himself' while driving. [Thursday afternoon, 345pm] Arthur walked in his front door, and found Amanda on the phone with Jack. She looked at him worried. The rest of the family gathered around him in a circle of concern. Arthur could smell fear and sadness. The Big Ones were all around, he couldn't find a way out! Edging back towards the wall he could see the Big Ones edging closer. They were slow but all around and dangerous. One reached out and he snapped teeth as a warning and hissed, tasting a small amount of blood. The Big Ones smelled of fear/anger. Shaking his head so violently his ears flopped around, Arthur could see that he his family was around him, afraid. He tasted a tiny bit of blood in his mouth. He noticed he had been bearing his teeth and probably snarling. His wife, Amanda was trying to keep the kids behind her, but one had a bloody hand and was crying. What did I do? he thought. Arthur was in the living room of the small Cape Cod style home, surrounded by his (human) family. The Big Ones will Hunt. Escape! Arthur turned, shook his head violently then started smashing his head into the frame of the doorway. He had to maintain control! A new smell, another Big One came in, with a Big One cub in tow. He could hear the Big Ones making noises. Lots of noises. The cub ran over and Arthur sniffed it, gave it a lick on the head parts, and pushed it behind him. Hissing, Arthur warned the Big Ones away from his grandson. His asshole stepson David was there, holding a pistol on him. Not surprising. They hated each other. The boom-killer smell! It was close! The HUNTER was there, in front. He had to escape! He felt a touch from behind, and wheeled around, teeth ready, but stopped his slashing teeth just before contact: It was just the cub. Arthur saw his teeth were near Mikey, but hadn't made contact. Not yet. Turning back to face his family, Arthur shook his head violently again, ears flapping, and smashed his head into the wall 3 times. He was losing control again. Arthur grabbed the gun pointed at him with both paws, and lined it up with his own center of forehead, met the eyes of the shooter, then lowered his head closed his eyes, waiting for the kill-shot No shot came. “I'm not going to shoot you, asshole. I know you aren't wild now. Raccoons don't aim weapons.” David said with a smirk. Arthur Raccoon pulled Mikey, his 4 year old grandson closer, Hissed, and made motion to bite. “Don't be a bigger fucking moron than you are, dick-less. You were guarding him earlier. You won't attack him now.” David said. “Shoot me before I hurt someone you ignorant cocksucker!” Arthur yelled. “No.”, said David. Arthur felt a sharp pain in his backside, spun to see a dart in his ass, and then fell down when a stun gun buzzed him, drifting into unconsciousness from the dart. Waking up in a hospital bed, Arthur found himself alive and handcuffed to the bed frame. “Your Mexican pharmacy gave you a faulty batch of meds, Mr. Raccoon.” said the doctor. “You'll be fine.”