Chapter Six: Changes
Infected: 2,111,985,298
Healthy: 5,074,253,393
Day: 15
Kiwi opened his eyes to the sound of the President of the United States.
"We must remain calm in the face of this sweeping set of changes. But we cannot remain calm if we cannot face the truth: The truth is that this virus is real, and that it has been introduced to the oceans by the terrorist Desmond Freeman, now styling himself as Sageclaw. We will not rest until he is found and brought to justice..."
He slowly sat up, putting his hand against his forehead...
And felt a horn.
"Whoa..." He kept his eyes closed and slowly rubbed his hand up along the horn, to the sharp point at the top. He grabbed the other horn, feeling it cautiously. Then he opened his eyes and looked down at himself. His shoulders had gone from broad to very broad, and his chest bulged with muscle as if he had become Arnold Schwarzenegger. But his skin was brown...and it wasn't quite skin. Rather, it was covered with a short, bristly fur. His thighs were as barrel thick as his chest, and he had a long tail sprouting from above his butt, tipped with a fuzzy ball at the tip. He put his hand on his face and felt, first, his nose - broad and thick and with massive nostrils. He snorted, and half expected thin jets of steam to come out.
Then, of course, he pushed the sheets fully back and checked out his junk.
"...well, it's not all a downside..." He rumbled.
A knock came at the door and Kiwi jerked his sheets up, then reached out to shut the alarm clock that had woken him up off. The voice of the President - which had started outlining the attempts at quarantine that would be going into effect - shut down and Kiwi called out: "Come in!"
The door opened and Dr. Redfield stuck her beak into the room, her head following a moment later.
"You're up? Good. The quarantine on the building has been lifted, come."
And with that, she drew her head back, the door closing. Kiwi stood, and put his horns through the ceiling. He jerked his head back and the ceiling panel came with, showering him with plaster. "Augh!" He threw his hands up, stepping backwards, and felt the hooves he had instead of feet slip along the ground. His butt went backwards and his massive bulk landed on the cot jammed into the room. The cot cracked in half with a loud CRUCH and the entire room was thrown into chaos.
Dr. Redfield opened the door, sighing. "Corpo..."
She trailed off.
Kiwi put his hand on the ceiling panel, dragging it off his horns with a few quick tugs. It broke into two pieces under the strain and showered him with yet more plaster. Throwing them aside, he sighed and looked at the doctor, saying: "You can call me Kiwi, you know?"
And then he saw where her eyes were locked. Her beak hung open, and he swore that he could see a faint red blush glowing underneath the corners of her beak, blood flowing and lighting everything up. The fact that an attractive crow-girl was checking him out sent a tingle through Kiwi, and he soon felt blood rushing to his cock, which started to swell and swell, until it slapped against his belly, covering his belly button completely. It was easily thick enough to give Kiwi at least three new reasons to be completely smug about his lot in life.
"...I should go..." Dr. Redfield stammered.
The door closed with a slam, and Kiwi stood, cracking his knuckles and putting his hands behind his neck, rather proud of himself. He looked down and said: "Oh yeah. She wants me."
"I-I-I do not!" Dr. Redfield stammered through the door.
"Then give me some privacy!" Kiwi called to her, and only once he heard the quick clack clack clack of her toe-claws on linoleum did he grab up the sheet off his cot. He sighed, softly, closing his eyes. The first thing he imagined was unbuttoning her blouse, revealing those firm, furred breasts. He'd find her nipples with his fingers first, then close his mouth around them as his fingers rubbed her sex, finding her clit with the ease of practice - that was the trick. Practice, practice, practice. He grinned as his hand closed around his cock, feeling the hardness, the hotness, the smoothness.
He started to slide his hand up and down his shaft, pre slipping onto his palm, making him slick as he started to breath heavily through his nose, tiny spurts of air blowing out as his hand slid from the tip of his cock to the base. His hips started to move with the motion as his imagination moved from foreplay to the actual fun part: His cock slipping into tight, hot bird-sex. He imagined her beak opening, then closing as he thrust into her, her tight body shivering and shuddering, her feathers trembling.
Kiwi grunted. "F-Fuck!" He gasped, jerking faster and faster, the slick noise filling the tiny room as he moved his other hand to keep the sheet near his cock. "F-Fuck! Oh fuck! YES!" He grunted, hard, and his hips bucked forward as his balls clenched. Seed spurted from his member, and he spent himself as utterly as if he...well, as if he had gone without wanking for five days. When the haze finally cleared from his eyes, he looked down and saw he had soaked the sheet and his hand with thick, white cum. Panting, he grinned. "Dang..."
He wiped himself clean, his cock softening, though the room would need an airing out - the musk was so intense that he wondered if, maybe, his sense of smell had gotten better. Once he was clean, he came to a new and rather frustrating problem: His pants didn't fit. Hell, his shirt didn't fit. Hell, nothing he had fit him anymore. He frowned, then rummaged around in his backpack. He found the backup sheet, then wrapped it around himself, toga style. That exposed quite a bit of muscle, and if a breeze hit him wrong, someone would get a good view of his balls, but...
Eh, that wasn't so much of a much, was it?
Kiwi opened the door and found Dr. Redfield waiting for him at the end of the hallway. She glared at him.
"That's not really what I'd call properly dressed," she said, her beak clicking at the end of that sentence, the corners of her beak turning down ever so slightly.
"Hey, my clothes were for someone who was five foot nine," Kiwi said, gesturing to how he had to stoop to keep his horns from scraping on the ceiling.
Dr. Redfield looked like she really wanted to complain. She flicked her eyes over his body, once, twice, three times, then shook her head, realizing she hadn't said anything for a few moments. "Y-Yes. Right. Quarantine is lifted."
"Oh? We're not infectious?" He asked as she turned and walked with him out of the offices and into the main part of the Dynacore building.
"Of course we're infectious," she said, sounding cross. "But current CDC projections show that the whole world is going to be infected in less than a week. My idiot CEO dumped the meteorite into the ocean. Do you know what that means?"
"Uh...no?"
"It means that every coastal city is infected. Do you know what percentage of the human race lives on the coastline?" Redfield glanced over her shoulder at him.
Kiwi adjusted his toga. "T-Twenty?"
"Try ninety."
"...ninety? Really?" Kiwi paused. "That actually does explain why we need so many marines."
Redfield snorted. "If the replication of the nanovirus remains consistent, then the ocean will be completely infected by the end of today. If it retains the ability to spread through the air, even while replicating in water, then it completely denuded the Earth's atmosphere in three weeks. Faster, if it is even moderately clever and takes advantage of certain weather patterns..."
"I wonder if it will fix global warming for us," Kiwi said.
"W...It is an alien weapon designed to transform humanity into...into these things!" Redfield gestured at herself. "Why on Earth would it do anything to our carbon levels!?"
Kiwi shrugged as the two of them came to the main entrance of the Dynacore building. There, the rest of the infected employees were getting ready to leave, packing up what belongings they had, talking excitedly on cellphones, while outside of the building, a massive media circus was laid out - choppers had landed and let out scores of media personalities and cameras, all of them a good way back, all of them wearing NBC gear.
