Geneticide: Vulpine Mind Trip
The First Revelation (Revised Edition): Part 2
By: Deranged Kitsune

"Sanity, it would seem, was a dangerously contagious disease."
-- "First Cycle" by H. Beam Piper

The next subject of tonight's expose takes us across town to one of the local hospitals. Hospitals can be beacons of hope to the damaged body and soul. And in many cases, they often are. They contain caring doctors and modern equipment. However this hospital is a prison for the darkness and decay of society. Of course this is speaking metaphorically. This isn't actually a prison; it's a mental hospital. But the rusted, metal barred doors, musty air, and the odd scream that floats down the dimly lit corridors, they all seem to fit with the asylum's gloomy exterior and archaic interior. These things may make it seem like a prison, but we're not here to focus on architecture and ambience. The subject of our next segment is a young doctor named Seth Curwin. He's a smart fellow -- very smart, actually. But at the same time he has trouble thinking clearly.

He has balance, though. Despite all the time he's spent among sociopaths and nut cases he's always had a firm grasp on what's real. Or at least he thinks that he does. Physically there's really nothing setting him apart from the other doctors. That's also about to change.

Dr. Curwin isn't important enough to have his own in hospital apartment like some of the other doctors do. He only has an oversized, converted cell that he shares with his roommate. At least Dr. Max Jandor was considerate enough to "borrow" a partition from the offices on the main floor. So Curwin has some semblance of privacy. The single cell may not seem like much, but he considers it home for now.

Dr. Curwin is also a learner. In fact as I speak, he's off in the corner of his bed reading, trying to improve his understanding about multiple personalities by reading through First Person Plural: Multiple Personality and the Philosophy of Mind by Stephen E. Braude.

Silly as it may sound, he's wearing flannel pajamas and a set of slippers as he lies in bed with his book. This actually makes perfect sense, as Dr. Curwin has no intention of leaving his "cell" anytime tonight. He is quite content to sit comfortably propped up against the pillows, his new volume in hand.

His fellow doctor is off on the other side of the room, finishing up a few administrative tasks that he has left to almost the last minute. Dr. Jandor is not the most organized person either, but he usually manages to remember where he puts things.

The pair of psychologists have been like this for a good part of the night, and would have likely remained that way for the rest of it. But tonight is no ordinary night. It all starts innocently enough; with the beeping of the alarm clock on the room's single desk.

"Damn it," mutters Jandor as he shuts off the infernal beeping. He turns his chair around to the partition. Taking off his glasses to rub his eyes, he calls to his colleague. "Hey Seth! I'm backed up all the way till next week, here. Do me a favor? Take my rounds tonight?"

"Not on your life!" echoes the voice from the other end of the room. "I've already done that three times this week."

"Come, on bud. My ass is in a bind here. Do you know what Logan will do if I don't have this paperwork done by morning?" He holds his arms out in a pleading manner, even though he knows Curwin can't see it. "What do you say, pal? I'll owe you one."

"You owe me several, already. And it'll be my ass if Logan catches me doing your watch again, Max. The answer is still no." There comes the sound of shuffling paper. "Besides, this is really interesting..."

Dr. Jandor always hates it when Curwin does this to him. But he still knows one way of getting his friend to do what he wants. He turns and snatches the quarter he keeps on the shelf above the desk for just this purpose. "Alright, Seth. Call it. Heads or tails?"

Curwin waits until he heard the metallic plink of the coin. "Tails."

Jandor looks at the coin when he snatches it out of the air. Damn. "Best two out of three?"

Curwin's rippling laugher flows over the partition. "Get going you bum. No reason to give Logan more reason to want you out of here."

And with barley audible mumbled curses, Dr. Max Jandor grabs his walkie-talkie, ring of master keys and small flashlight, and heads out to make the rounds. That leaves Curwin to his book once more. Good. That's just how he prefers things. For many minutes the only sounds in the room are the turning of the pages.

Seth slowly begins to notice a small, yet offensive itch at the base of his spine. Absentmindedly, he reaches behind himself with one hand and begins scratching his tailbone. With a start, Curwin sits bolt upright in bed, his book thudding forgotten to the floor. He thrusts both hands behind his back and begins to scratch veraciously at the small of his back. Suddenly the itching in his tailbone stops, only to be replaced by a painful throbbing.

Curwin jumps off his bed, continuing to claw at his tailbone as he dances a little around his part of the room. His frantic scratching changes to screams as four red colored protrusions with an orange tint begin to split the back end of his pajamas. The tail-like extremities continue to grow, with each inch grow slightly bushier, until finally four, four and a half foot long fox tails with large white tips at the end, are sticking out the end of Curwin's split flanels.

Dr. Curwin catches himself on the iron footboard of his bed as the pain of what just happened passes. Still breathing heavily from all his screaming, he turns his head to look at what has happened to him.

His horrified gaze remains transfixed on his new tails for only a few moments before the pain returns again, dropping the good doctor to the floor in agony. Yes, the pain is definitely back. And this time it has brought reinforcements.

Curwin writhes on the tiles as the rest of his body slowly begins to change to match the tails sticking out of his pajamas. Seth's feet begin to grow coal black fur and start to switch to a vulpine stance. The change continues up his legs creating new muscles, leg hair changing to fur and turning to red or black, growing in length and density. A strangled scream works its way past his lips as the leg bones lengthen and the ankle extends to a more digitrade stance. Curwin quickly kicks his slippers off, as they are now barely hanging off his feet, and rolls over onto his knees and elbows. He begins to violently tear at his pajama top in anticipation of the progressing change.

The transformation moves upwards, flushing the doctor's body with fresh pain. As it does so, white fur starts to grow on Curwin's belly and chest, while muscles firm up here and there. A bright orangish-red fur, a matching shade for the tails, begins to grow everywhere else. His arms begin to grow a coal back fur of the same coloration as his legs. Nevertheless, Curwin is far too distracted by the stunning pain of his head transforming to notice much of this.

Such as with Christian's transformation, Curwin begins experiencing even more horrendous amounts of suffering and agony. Unlike Chris, however, Curwin somehow remains conscious. The reshaping of Curwin's head is starting to have a noticeable effect now. His jaw and face bones break and begin to push forward and reshape themselves while his head flattens and expands backward slightly. Fur quickly creeps up his neck while his head finishes reshaping itself. Seth's own ears begin to move to the top of his head, changing to large, furless vulpine ones. No sooner do the ears finish transfiguring then the reddish fur overtakes them, a soft white fur lining the insides.

As with Chris's metamorphosis the transformation finally beings to slow, only small things changing at this point. Curwin's nails change to claws, growing slightly longer and becoming sharper. White fur sprouts on the four tailed fox man's muzzle, accompanied by some red fur on the bridge of his muzzle and whiskers pop into exsistance, too. Curwin's teeth grow sharper and his nose becomes leathery and black, but other than that there's now no real difference between him and a certain Japanese myth.

But we can skip the mythology lesson for now. Let us focus at what has happened to Dr. Curwin mentally. If we could hear Curwin's thoughts, we'd hear two voices. One would be his own voice, a voice of denial, fear, and a primal kind of panic. The other voice would be one of an evil, confused individual, a voice not of Curwin's own mind. We hear a small whine escape the lips of the transformed psychologist as he reaches up to clutch at his head.

Now our dear Dr. Curwin isn't the only individual at the hospital who has been transformed. No, there are others who have shared his fate. But we are not concerned with them for the moment, only with Curwin. And we are not the only ones concerned about the good doctor. Some time after the transformation has run its course, Max Jandor bursts into the room looking for his friend.

"Seth! Get dressed, man! All hell's breaking lose and we..." He looks around the converted cell for the fellow psychologist. The room is silent except for a faint, animalistic wining coming for the back of Curwin's half. Max slowly advances on the sound, still not sure what to expect.

The first thing he comes across is one of Curwin's discarded slippers. No mistaking those. His eyes rove upwards to the shredded remains of his friend's pajamas. Next, to the discarded psychology text. And finally, to the figure huddled in the corner.

"Seth?" he quietly whispers. The huddled figure seems not to hear him and only continues its actions. Dr. Jandor slowly advances on the strange creature that was once his good friend and comrade. The fox is huddled in the corner softly wining to himself as he claws at the wall, his four large tails spread out behind him like a great red and white peacock. Curwin's legs are moving feebly, trying to push him further into the wall itself, the claws making a light rasp on the aged tiles. One paw is clutching his head, running itself over his ear and around that half of the face. The other is slowly scraping along the wall, creating a more noticeable scraping on the cement cinder blocks.

Jandor slowly approaches his disturbed friend, hunching down to the other's level. He repeats his question, this time a little louder. The fox seems to hear him, and he turns a panicked gaze to the other's face. "Max? Is that you?" His friend can only nod. "My God, Max," croaks Curwin, "what happened to me?"

"We don't know, Seth. It's a complete panic out there." Jandor looks into the eyes of the fox psychologist. Instead of Curwin's old hazel, these eyes are a vivid shade of violet. And Jandor doesn't need his psychology training to know from the way they were twitching back and forth, that his friend was completely and utterly panicked. Somehow he knows that his colleague has suffered some kind of massive psychotic break. But what could trigger such a thing? Surely not the change. Jandor doesn't think that turning into a kitsune could be that bad. But then again, the others who had already changed were insane to begin with, so it is difficult to tell for certain.

"Seth," Jandor is using his friends first name as he wants to calm him down some, "the entire asylum is in an uproar. All of a sudden people started to change into animals. It was only, maybe, ten percent of the population, but it was enough to set off the rest of them." He sees that his friend is calming down now, Curwin's panting slowing and his eyes acquiring a more sober look. Or perhaps more haunted? "You remember the last time they rioted, Seth. This time it's even worse, as some of the orderlies have been affected as well. I was hoping that you might be in better condition to help."

"I know what's going on out there," croaks Curwin, the muscles and tendons on his neck jumping around visibly. His violet eyes acquire a glazed look to them. "There is mass panic, everyone yelling and screaming for all they are worth. All barriers are down, nothing held back." Curwin then lapses into a jabbering, maniac state of raving.

Dr. Jandor grabs the huddled figure by the shoulders and tries to shake him out of it, yelling Seth's name the whole time. His only reward is the vulpine trying to bite him. But his actions are enough to break the trance his fellow doctor was in.

Curwin's breathing slows once more to only an erratic panting. Issuing a low moan, he covers his face and the top of his ears with his hands before trying to propel himself further back into the corner once more. Seeing that he's as far as he can go, the good doctor settles for slowly smacking his head against the wall. Oh, not very hard. Just enough to produce a rhythmic thumping sound. Jandor can only sit back and watch his friend's performance. His years of training seem to have left him all of a sudden. Ever so slowly Curwin comes back to himself. He raises his head to blink out at the room, his vulpine ears noticeably perking up as he turns to his friend.

"Joanna. Where is she?"

"Um, I think she's still in her cell. Why?"

Seth only shook his head in a spasmodic manner. "No, she's not there. She's in... a janitors closet. Third floor, I think. And she has an exacto knife." A childish smile comes over Dr. Curwin's face, and he unfurls his new figure a little more. He holds out his left arm and begins to run his right alongside it, looking for all the world as though he was holding a wood carving knife. Max notices that Seth's four tails are beginning to slowly swish along the tiled floor. "She's changing," informs the vulpine psychologist in a soft, almost childlike tone. "Something with feathers. She likes feathers, but they are hurting her as they come in. She's thinking of cutting them off..."

"Jesus." Dr. Jandor reaches back and grabs his walkie-talkie. "Get a pair of orderlies down to the janitor station on level three. Joanna's locked in there, and she has a knife." He places the speaker close to his ear so that he can better hear the dispatcher. "No, I'm not in the hospital proper. I'm in my apartment with Dr. Curwin." He listens to it a little more. "No, he's not in any condition to help." Listens again. "Well, for starters he's been changed." Max looks at his friend, who was still sitting there, running his hand back and forth along his arm, his tongue protruding out the front of his muzzle. "He's in no condition to help." The radio makes some more urgent squawks. "It's not just the change." Max can't believe he's saying this. "It seems he's suffered some kind of psychotic break." The radio refuses to leave it at that. "Okay, okay. I'm on my way. East wing, roger."

Clicking off the walkie-talkie, Max considers what he can do with his friend. "Seth," he quietly calls. "Seth!" he shouts when the fox doesn't respond. That snaps the other psychologist out of his trance. "Seth, I have to go and see if I can help with the others. I'm going to leave you now, but I'll be back soon. Okay?" Dr. Jandor is starting to feel a little ill at treating one of his fellow colleagues like he would a patient.

Dr. Curwin's reaction is immediate. He swiftly reaches out and clutches his friend by the arm. Jandor ignores the sharp pain that the kitsune's retractable claws cause him. "Please," implores Curwin in a quivering whisper, "don't leave me. Don't leave me here with the voices, Max..."

"Voices? What voices, Seth?"

"The voices... in my head," he squeaks, reaching up to run one paw through the fur at the back of his skull. "I can hear them... all of them... like whispers... in the back of my mind... and I can't shut them out... I can't shut them out!!" Curwin collapses onto the floor again. "And you can't imagine what they're saying, Max." He let's a few pitiful whimpers escape, his eyes a horrified maelstrom of purple. "You can't possibly imagine..."

His profession as a psychologist being relatively short, Dr. Jandor has seen only a few cases of such severity. But never have any of those cases hit as close to home as this one. He is torn between his oath as a doctor and his duty as a friend. The decision he makes is not an easy one.

"Seth," he says, addressing his friend in a matter he hopes would soothe him, "you know I can't do that. You're a doctor, the same as me. And you know that I can't neglect my patients, especially patients like these." He sees that while these words were having an effect on Curwin, there was still panic creeping into the fox's face. "I'll be back for you as soon as I can, Seth. Don't worry about it." And with that, Dr. Max Jandor leaves before his fellow colleague can raise a protest.

Curwin just sits there, trying to make sense of what his friend had just done to him. But the voices, that which Seth fears most, return in force. The sudden babble of the insane lunatics that surround Curwin is strong enough to drive the fox to his feet. "Get out of my head! Get out of my head!" he screams, pounding on his furry skull. But the voices only intensify, seeming to mock Curwin's howling pleas. Seth staggers around the room holding his head in both paws, convulsing in mental agony.

Still not used to his digitrade feet, Seth trips over the very book that he had been reading earlier that evening. Sitting up, he violently grabs the text, his claws digging into the pages. With an insane howl he hurls the book at the rooms only active light. It makes direct contact, plunging the cell into inky blackness.

And thus, as Dr. Seth Curwin collapses to his knees, this segment comes to a close. Raising his head to the heavens and flinging his arms wide, the kitsune cries out his final lamention; "Oh God, what have you done to me?!"

Th'End of Part 2

Forward to Part 3: To Serve and Protect
Back to Part 1: What The Night Will Bring
Return to: Geneticide Index Page

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