Social Disease
by The Mad Titan

Megan sat nervously in the examination room.  Her palms were sweating as her heart pounded in her chest.  Ever since she was a small child, Megan had hated doctor’s offices.  Even though she knew that doctors and nurses helped to cure the sick and injured, she just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread every time she walked into the sterile, white environment.  Even more so, seeing as Dr. Westmore’s receptionist had called her to come in to meet with the doctor about some test results.  This really made her wonder what was wrong.  She hated not knowing what was wrong, but she equally feared knowing what was wrong.  Just two days ago she was in the same examination room for her annual check-up and flu shot.  “What could possibly be wrong?” she thought. 

She often thought that if she weren’t so small, she wouldn’t fear some of the things that she feared.  At the age of 23, Megan stood 5’2” and weighed 96 pounds with a thin, whispery frame.  She reached up and began to play with her shoulder length blonde hair.  Being so petite made it easy for Megan to be physically intimidated by just about everyone. 

In addition to her fear of doctors, Megan was also afraid of heights, snakes, flying and many other things as well.  She had sought out counseling, but nothing seemed to assuage her of her fears. 

Voices in the hallway outside the examination room shook Megan from her thoughts of doom.  With the door closed, she couldn’t make out what was being said, but she knew the people on the other side of the door were talking about her.  Some people said that Megan was paranoid, but she knew better. 

The door opened and Dr. Mark Westmore walked casually into the room carrying a thick folder.  “Thank you for coming in to meet with me today Megan.” 

“Sure Dr. Westmore,” she said nervously.  “But I don’t know why I’m here.” 

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Dr. Westmore said sympathetically. 

Megan’s eyes grew wide as saucers.  “Oh my God!  What’s wrong?” 

“Try and remain calm,” he said reassuringly.  “The results of your blood test have revealed that you have contracted Lycanthropy.” 

Megan stared blankly at Dr. Westmore for several seconds.  “I don’t mean to sound stupid Doc, but what is Lycanthropy?” 

Dr. Westmore took a deep breath before explaining.  “The media calls Lycanthropy the “Werewolf disease”.  It’s a disease that affects a person’s D.N.A., altering it in such a way that it transforms the afflicted into a half person, half animal creature.  The transformation occurs after a full moon.  My theory is that the moon triggers the change in some way.” 

“I don’t understand,” Megan said slowly.  “How is this possible?  Don’t you have to be bitten by a werewolf to get that disease?  I haven’t been bitten by anything.” 

“That part of the disease is largely a myth,” Dr. Westmore explained.  “It is believed to be transmitted by bodily fluids.  Tell me Megan, are you sexually active?” 

“Well, yeah,” Megan stammered.  “But I normally use protection.” 

“Normally?” Dr. Westmore asked.  “You mean you don’t always use protection?” 

“Well, not always,” Megan answered.  Her mind racing to remember if she used a condom after having sex with that guy she met at the bar.  She was pretty drunk at the time.  “Is there a cure?” 

“Scientists are working on a cure, but as of yet there isn’t one,” Dr. Westmore said sympathetically.  

“What do I do now?” Megan asked as tears began to well up in her eyes. 

“Well,” Dr. Westmore began, “I’m supposed to report your contamination with the local branch of the FBI, who would isolate you from society for “your own protection”.  But I won’t do that.” 

Looking up with tears rolling down her cheeks, Megan said, “You’re not?” 

“No,” he said evenly.  “You are the victim, not a criminal.  It isn’t right to lock up a person who did nothing wrong, but contract a disease.  I will never commit such a deplorable act.” 

“But what do I do now?” Megan asked. 

Dr. Westmore sat down next to Megan on the examination table, “Megan, you’re not the first person in town to contract this disease.” 

“I’m not?” she said. 

“As a matter of fact, you’re the fifth victim in the past three months,” he explained.  “And I’m going to tell you what I told the others.  To prevent you from being locked away in a cage after the transformation takes place, the safest place for you is in the forest.  You won’t be cured, but you will be free.  Seeing as there is a full moon tonight, I think that is your best option.  Of course, the decision is yours.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” Megan wept. 

Opening up the folder he brought with him, Dr. Westmore pulled out a hand drawn map and handed it to Megan.  “This map will direct you to a safe place.  If you decide that you want to be free, just follow these directions.  Once there, you’ll find other victims of this disease.  The down side is that you’ll be living in the woods.  On the other hand, you won’t be alone and you will be free.” 

“I don’t know,” she stammered. 

“Think carefully Megan,” Dr. Westmore advised calmly.  “But if you do decide to go, make sure you don’t tell anyone where you’re going.  This is just a precaution so that the authorities won’t be able to discover the whereabouts of the other victims.” 

Standing up shakily, Megan said, “Thank you doctor. I don’t know what to do.  But I will consider your suggestion.” 

“I do have one favor to ask of you,” Dr. Westmore said.  “If you decide to turn yourself into the authorities, don’t tell them about the map or that I gave it to you.  Needless to say, I would get into a lot of trouble.” 

“I won’t,” Megan answered as she rose to leave.  “And thank you again.” 

With that, Megan slowly left the office, deep in thought.  Not knowing what to do, she decided to go home and weigh her options.

During the fifteen-minute drive back to her apartment, Megan’s mind raced with conflicting thoughts.  “What am I going to do?” she asked herself.  “I don’t want to be locked away in a cage like some freak.  On the other hand, I don’t want to live like an animal in the woods.  I even hate camping.”  Feelings of fear, depression and self-pity fought for dominance of her fragile psyche.  

After arriving at her modest apartment, Megan was exhausted from her inner struggle.  She was tired of asking herself over and over, “Why me?”  Collapsing in a heap on her bed, Megan drifted off to a restless sleep.  Her dreams were tortured with images of herself turning into a mindless, slathering beast that prowled the forest on all fours.  Preying up rodents for her food and relieving herself everywhere. 

Megan awoke in a cold sweat.  Now more than ever, she was afraid of the fate that awaited her when the sun set and the full moon rose.  To take her mind off her troubles, she decided to watch TV while she ate her microwave dinner.  Megan surfed the cable channels for several minutes not finding anything worth watching.  “I can’t believe this,” she thought.  “My last afternoon in civilized society and there’s nothing good to watch.” 

She flipped by boring talk shows about cheating spouses, exercise equipment infomercials and live action news coverage of non-events.  What finally made her stop was a wildlife documentary on wolves.  She stared in fascination at the power, speed, cunning and pack beauty of the magnificent creatures.  For the first time all day, she realized that this could be a great opportunity for herself.  She would no longer have to fear anything and everything.  She wouldn’t have to worry about rent payments or working nine to five in a small cubicle.  Megan realized that this was not a disease, but a wonderful gift.  She didn’t know how she got it, but she was not going to waste it.  

Megan couldn’t wait for sundown.  She had already memorized the directions on Dr. Westmore’s map several times over before lighting the map on fire and flushing the ashes down the toilet.  She went into her room and started to pack her overnight bag.  “What am I doing?” she said to herself aloud.  “I’m not going to need anything where I’m going.”  With that, she left the bag on her bed and walked out the door, never to come back.

It was a half hour drive to the location the map had indicated.  The directions had led her down a narrow dirt road that looked like it was about to be swallowed up by the forest.  After numerous twists and turns, the road ended by a large clearing with a small stream. 

There was still about a half hour until nightfall, so Megan decided to take it easy in the clearing until her world changed forever.  She sat down next to the stream and stared at her reflection in the slow moving water.  Megan realized that she was going to miss how she looked or at least she thought she was going to miss how she looked.  Her mind wandered to thoughts of what she was going to look like after she changed.  “Will I have a long tail?  What color fur will I have?  Will it hurt?” 

Then a strange thought occurred to her.  “Don’t werewolves change back at sunrise?”  This was something she hadn’t considered before.  She thought for several minutes on this eventuality.  The evidence seemed to prove that she would change back.  There was the absence of other vehicles on the small road, so the other werewolves had to have changed back and drove away the next day.  Didn’t they? 

If she was going to change back to normal, she didn’t want to do something stupid, like lose her car keys or have her clothes destroyed.  She would be extremely embarrassed if she had to walk all the way back to her apartment naked.  After all, in every werewolf movie she had ever seen, when the change happens, the person’s clothes get ripped to shreds.  Megan looked around the clearing to make sure she was alone.  “Why am I being so modest?” she thought to herself.  “What do I have to worry about?  Any minute know I’ll have a beautiful new fur coat.”  

She then stripped off her clothing, folded them neatly and placed them in the front seat of her car.  Megan then locked the doors and placed her keys behind the front wheel.  She didn’t want to leave the doors unlocked.  Just in case some of the other werewolves weren’t as honest as she was.  And she couldn’t take her keys with her, no pockets. 

The cool breeze felt good against Megan’s naked body as she walked back into the clearing.  For the first time in recent memory, Megan felt confident, strong and free. 

The sun had begun to set, casting an orange glow across the clearing.  “What a magnificent way to begin my new life,” Megan said aloud to herself as she reveled in the splendor of the moment. 

It all started with a mild tingling sensation all over her body.  She turned around and saw the full moon appearing, as if by some magical force, from behind a cloudbank.  The moonlight bathed the clearing in its silvery glow.  “This is almost as good as sex,” she thought as the tingling sensation intensified. 

As Megan reveled in the waves of pleasure the coursed through her body, she felt a strange tugging sensation at her extremities.  She raised her hands to her face and was surprised to see her slender fingers shrinking into her hands.  “This is weird,” she thought.  “You’d think that having your anatomy rearranged would hurt, but this feels incredible.”  Megan stared as her thumbs receded into her wrists and her fingernails became tiny black claws that extended from her fingertips.  She rotated her new hands in front of her face, marveling at the changes.  Her palms were turning black and leathery. 

She felt another strong tugging sensation at her feet, which drew her attention away from her hands.  Her heels were elongating away from the balls of her feet.  The change was making it hard to stand.  Megan staggered slightly before she regained her balance by standing on the balls of her feet.  While her heels were elongating, her shins were shrinking and her thighs were becoming very muscular.  She giggled in delight at the slight of her transforming form.  Her feet were now paw-like, just like her hands. 

The tingling sensation was intensifying.  Megan became moist from the incredible sensations.  She examined her rapidly changing body.  In the silvery moonlight, it was difficult to see at first, but she was sprouting hair all over her body.  From what she could see, it started at her groin and underarms and expanded outward.  Her once blonde pubic hair had changed to a bright white.  The hair grew till it covered her body in a fine, silky white coat.  She rubbed her paws over her new fur coat.  She had never felt such soft fur. 

A strange pressure was building in Megan’s chest, which brought her new paws to her breasts.  “This is wonderful,” she said aloud.  It was difficult to tell, but she was sure that her breasts were growing bigger.  They were swelling to twice there normal size.  “God I hope I get to keep these in the morning,” she said as she fondled herself absent-mindedly. 

She turned from her newly expanded breasts to investigate a tugging sensation at the base of her spine.  Megan twisted to get a better view of what she expected to be her tail.  It started as a tiny furry nub, but it was growing. 

Megan twisted around as pressure built in her skull.  Without even using her paws, she could tell that her ears were elongating and moving to the top of her skull.  She raised her hands to touch them, but stopped short as her jaw began to push out from her face.  As her jaw continued to push out, Megan felt her nose flattening and turning up.  The sensations that assaulted her body nearly brought her to orgasm. 

As quickly as it had begun the tingling and pressure faded away.  Megan stood in the clearing reveling in her new form.  She raised her head and howled in ecstasy, but only a high-pitched squeal came out.  “Guess I had better work on that,” she said. 

“I would say so,” a deep gruff male voice said from behind her. 

Megan whirled around to see a large gray werewolf standing only a short distance away.  “You startled me,” she gasped.  “How long have you been there?” 

“Oh I’ve been here all along,” he said as smile crossed his canine features.  “I’ve been waiting for you Megan.” 

“How, how, how did you know my name?” Megan stammered. 

“Don’t you recognize me Megan?” he said as he stretched his mighty limbs to show off his muscular physique.  “I’m hurt.” 

Megan stared blankly at the werewolf before her for several seconds.  “I’m sorry, but you don’t look familiar to me.” 

“I guess I don’t,” he said casually.  “I have changed a little bit from earlier today.” 

“Dr. Westmore?” Megan asked. 

“You do remember me,” he said smiling larger.  “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” 

“You’re a werewolf,” she said, the surprise obvious in her tone. 

“That surprises you?” Dr. Westmore asked.  “It really shouldn’t.” 

“I guess that’s why you were so passionate about what would happen to me if I turned myself in to the authorities,” she said.  “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Would you have believed me?” he asked in his casual laid-back tone. 

“I guess not,” she said, wondering if her blushing would show through her fur.  “What happens now?” 

“I don’t know about you,” Dr. Westmore began, “but my pack and I are hungry and ready to hunt.  How about you Megan?  Are you ready for the hunt?” 

“I guess so,” she said shyly.  “But I’ve never hunted before.  By the way, where is the pack?” 

Dr. Westmore raised his head and let out a long, loud howl that sent shivers through Megan’s body.  Silently, five more werewolves emerged into the clearing.  Megan could tell that three were males and two were females.  As a group, they were very imposing. 

Megan swallowed hard as a lump formed in her throat.  “So, what do we hunt?” 

The group of werewolves laughed gutturally at Megan’s question.  “She doesn’t know,” a large brown male said. 

“Megan,” Dr. Westmore said calmly, “I think you had better look at your reflection.” 

Dr. Westmore’s response puzzled Megan as she walked to the small stream.  “What did he mean by that?” she thought.  Megan froze as she saw her reflection in the stream.  She had changed all right, but not into a werewolf.  Megan raised a slender, white paw to her nearly one foot long ears that stood atop her head.  The face in the stream was that of a rabbit.  She whirled around and noticed that her tail had only grown into a large ball of fuzz.  “I’m a rabbit?” she squealed.  “How is this possible?” 

Dr. Westmore walked over to where Megan stood by the stream before he spoke.  “Megan, while Lycanthropy is called the “werewolf” disease, it doesn’t necessarily turn the afflicted into a half human, half wolf.  Depending on the strain of the disease, it can turn the subject into just about any animal.  In your case, I chose a rabbit.” 

“You chose?” she asked. 

Turning to his pack, Dr. Westmore said, “Don’t just love it when they need everything spelled out for them?”  Guttural laughter filled the clearing, sending chills down Megan’s spine.  Once the laughter died down, Dr. Westmore continued.  “You see Megan, my pack and I need to hunt to survive, but the natural fauna in this region is insufficient to our needs.  So we decided that make our own prey.” 

“But how?” she stammered, the fear rising up within her.  Then it struck her, “The flu shot.” 

“Give the bunny a cigar gang, she figured it out on the first try,” a large male in the pack bellowed to the delight of the others. 

“Enough talk,” a raven-haired female snarled. 

“Yeah, let’s hunt,” the red-haired female agreed. 

“I am getting hungry,” Dr. Westmore said as his long pink tongue moved across his long, sharp fangs.  “To make it sporting, we’ll give you a two minute head start.” 

Megan stood frozen in the clearing as she stared at six werewolves.  Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening to her. 

“I strong suggest you run,” Dr. Westmore said.  With that, he raised his head and let out a loud howl.  The other werewolves joined in the chorus of howls. 

Megan turned and ran as fast as her legs would carry her.  Her breathing was labored as she stumbled, trying to get used to her new limbs.  She leapt over the stream in a single bound of her powerful hind legs.  As she crashed through the bushes at the edge of the forest, Megan heard her hunters let out another howl.  Her blood would have frozen in her veins if she weren’t terrified beyond rational thought.  The hunt had begun.