The silver crescent moon overhead cast pale gray light but Abigail noticed with faint alarm that the ground itself seemed to be glowing lavender, lighting her way. She shied away from the well-lit paths not just to hide her monstrous changes but also from an irrational fear of the blue arcs and nearly unbearable thrumming sound the lamps and electric poles gave off.
Thankfully, the campus was nearly empty and, as she approached the library, she knew it was she would find it nearly completely vacant; her sharp ears heard only a few people tapping away on computer keyboards. She peered into the huge glass entrance and nearly cursed at how hazy things seemed with her slowly failing vision. She missed the door handle on the first try and then realized she was taller than before. Distracted, she looked down her body to notice a gap between her skirt and sweater. Although her breath steamed in the night air, she hadn't felt the cold against her skin. She touched the bare skin carefully, her fingers playing through the coarse fur.
Her stomach was mostly tanned white skin with the exception of a line of thick fur leading up and around her belly button. She could see two rounded rough patches of skin on either side of her stomach, just barely visible from above her skirt. She touched one carefully, surprised at how bumpy it was. The area seemed a little swollen and sore but-
"Oh!" Abigail gasped. She'd brushed the center of the spot. Her nail flicked against a tiny pink bump of skin that struggled to grow erect at the sudden attention. "Oh. Oh, no."
Turning to hide herself from the glass entrance, Abigail lifted her sweater. Eight more little nipples lined her body, four on each side above those bottom nipples. Some of the areola had short black and brown hairs growing from tiny bumps dotting their surface. She gasped as a sudden wind sliced across her body and along her rows of nipples. She could
feel
the wind tugging at the fur on her belly, the hairs teasing her bare skin. Abigail pulled her sweater down, biting her lip against the aches of pleasure growing down her body. Blood dripped where her top teeth pierced her lip and the pain helped her regain focus.
"Running out of time," she gasped. Turning, she pulled the large glass door open and entered the library.
The young woman made her way into the library, hugging the wall to keep from prying eyes. The infernal hum she'd heard outside was far worse within the building. She could feel it deep in her bones and teeth and brain. Electricity popped and shrieked around her. With every step she left a large wet paw print from her bare feet. She found a computer in the corner and sat awkwardly, adjusting her large legs and ass until she was comfortable. Her skirt nearly broke from the strain of it.
Abigail logged in with her student ID and opened a browser window. She paused and then looked at the back of her right hand.
Slowly, she typed out a search:
Symbol star with rod down the middle horns at top and wings
The search engine returned a list of hits with example images lining the top. Two of the images were identical to the mark on her hand. With sweaty hands and her heart beating in her throat, she clicked on the first image. Her hand flew to her mouth at the result.
Beelzebub.
The word burned in her mind. She knew it from her church. From one of the many, many sermons dealing with damnation. A demon of Hell. A major demon. One of the many the congregation was told would be there to witness their if they walked the wrong path. Beelzebub, standing and laughing with horns and wings and bulbous eyes with lashing, barbed tail. Stabbing at those blown about in an endless wind. Those consumed by their lust above all things.
She read the articles, words swimming on the page as a slow headache began to build behind her eyes.
"Prince Baal," she whispered to herself, skimming the article. "Prince of ... of demons. Appears as an infer... infernal hu-human... humanoid fly. Sows chaos. Do... domin..." Abigail ground her teeth. Her headache was getting worse and the words wouldn't stay still. She leaned closer.
"Appears. Appears in the New," she continued. "And Old Testament. Said... have... No, said TO have... power... the power... to change anals... anal...
animals
... no, change men into..."
The words were blurred and rearranged. None of them made sense any more. Fear and a deep aching sadness radiated through her core. The young woman looked around herself but it was all the same. The words she could make out with her poor eyesight were just symbols. Lines arranged on papers and plaques and walls. Her headache began to dissipate the less she tried to read anything.
Tears dripped quietly onto Abigail's sweater. She sniffed once, twice and then sat silently crying in the small booth.
I have to confess,
she told herself.
It's the only way. It's the only way I can save myself.
Although she knew what she had to do, the thought was unbearably painful. Her church was unique. Unique and a three hour drive away. She knew that, even if she could drive in her current condition, that the changes were coming faster. She'd never make it in time.
"Jason," she whispered, hand creeping unnoticed to her thigh at the thought of him. She kneaded her furred leg.
If I confess to him and lay my sins bare to the one I've wronged, I can ask for forgiveness. Yes.
Yes.
It has to work. It
WILL
work.
Abigail padded through the old library, whiskers twitching while she fought the urge to drop to the ground like an animal.
-----
The young woman ran and, for a brief moment, experienced pure joy. She was so
fast
. Her clawed feet tore through the knot in her pantyhose and gave her thick, muscled legs purchase. She smiled wide as she tore past building after building, short tail working, fighting to help. Great chunks of sod flung out behind her. In one large stride, her skirt tore free and the young woman barely noticed. She felt drunk on exhilaration. She had a plan. She knew it would work. She would be saved. And she was so
incredibly
fast.
Along the way, Abigail's pantyhose lifted as her tail grew. The material bulged and then snapped back as her tail sprung free. One more inch. Two. Five. Her tail streamed behind her, thick as her wrist while it lengthened to nearly two feet. It lashed, flicking up as she hunched down to all fours for one brief moment. Panting, laughing, she stood again. Her heart beat a loud drum within her chest. She'd never run like this before. It wasn't ever proper. As a very small child, of course, but never as a teenager or adult. It was a waste of energy better used for chores.
Now. Now she knew what the horses must feel like when they ran. How free they must feel to push themselves as hard as they could. To feel the wind whistling around them. So incredibly free. How frustrated they must feel to run as hard and fast as they could, only to find a fence blocking them. Holding them back. Restraining them. Limiting their desires. She hissed in sympathetic pain while her own powerful legs drove her forward.
Abigail nearly tumbled to a stop when she reached her dorm. Her chest heaved with every breath. Despite the run, her heart beat a steady, healthy rhythm deep in her chest. Her legs ached to run more. She nearly whooped with glee at the pure adrenaline running through her body.
Bending over to catch her breath, she saw her tail dangling between her legs and her amusement was immediately crushed. Her pantyhose were a complete ruin, torn halfway to her shins. Thick fur covered both feet completely and the fur glistened wetly in the nearby light. Her paws were huge and covered with mud, blades of grass and tiny rocks. She rested an intense urge to groom herself and, instead, quickly brushed off what she could.
Her sweater was soaked with cold sweat and all twelve of her nipples were hard and sore. Abigail immediately retreated into a corner away from the dorm's outside light. She closed her eyes, listening carefully for signs of anyone still inside. She could hear someone that sounded like her upstairs neighbor. The voice was muted but it sounded like her. Another voice faded as a door on the other side of the building opened and then closed. And, that was it. She said a small prayer of thanks before making her way inside and to her room.
Quickly
, she told herself. Abigail stripped in the middle of her room - something she'd never consider doing before. Without a hint of a blush, she slid her pantyhose off and finally wondered where she'd lost her skirt. She pulled her sweater off, gasping as it slid against all of her new nipples. Finally, she undid her bra and then paused. Now she
did
blush but, still, forced herself to look. Her ten lower nipples were nearly flat against her body and ran all the way down to just below her waist. Her pubic hair was thick with fur and a heavy line of it run up her belly. She couldn't see her sex beneath all of the fur. Her legs were as muscular as she'd imagined. Large veins criss-crossed her thighs and calves, some covered by gray and brown fur.
More black lines stood out on her right arm, crawling in a spiral down to her elbow but she couldn't read it. With a whimper, she realized that she didn't know whether she couldn't read it because it was in some archaic script or because letters simply made no sense to her any more. Light brown hairs covered her forearms. She started to turn but then stopped herself to touch at a patch of thick gray fur between her human breasts. She sighed at the distinction of it.
Human
breasts versus the ones she'd use to feed a mass of furry newborn babes. Lying on her side while they-
No
, she thought, immediately clearing her mind of the thought.
Turning, she could see a bit of fur on the back of her shoulders and, of course, the tail. But she could
feel
