Paws for Effect -

Max squinted as he awoke to blinding light shining through the blinds of his bedroom. Birds chirped and hopped around the roof. He moaned as tossed in bed. His body felt like he had been hit by a truck; his muscles were achy and he felt quite hot. It was like the worst hangover he'd had a thousand-fold. Whatever shots he'd been given must've been doing their job protecting him from possible infections. That was a good sign, but it didn't help how awful he felt in the moment.

Max crawled out and bed, shakily getting to his feet. He looked at the alarm clock on bedside table: 11:37.

"Shit, late for work," Max was about to run and get dressed when he spotted a note on the table. It was written in Thiago's familiar scrawl. He must've written it before he had headed off to work: "Hey babe. I rang your work to say you weren't feeling great. They said not to worry and take the day off. Try to relax and let me know if you need anything. X"

"So sweet," Max thought. He sighed with relief. He was in no state to face the battle ox that was Holloway with his brooding emotions and loud booming voice. Frankly, the minute sounds of birdsong outside were almost verging on too much so travelling into the bustle of town and being in a busy police station would've killed him.

Max pulled off his t-shirt. It had been sticking to him from the amount of sweat he had produced from his fever. "Uhh, I need a shower," he thought, ambling towards the bathroom and throwing off his underwear. He got in and turned on the hot water at full blast. He sighed, throwing his head back and moaning in pleasure at the heat of the water hitting his skin. The water soothed his aching muscles, loosening them up.

Max drew his fingers through his hair. He was surprised with how good it felt. It was like getting a scalp message. His nails felt as though they were going deeper than usual into the skin of scalp, the sharpness more acute somehow.

"Why does this feel so good?" Max thought. He took his hands down and looked upon his nails. He almost slipped as he blanched backwards.

"What the fuck?" he said out loud. His nails were all black as if he had bruised all of them. They were also much longer and pointed. They looked like claws. He passed his thumbs over them, feeling the rigidity of the long pointed nails. They seemed to be made of a harder material than his normal nails. It was so strange. It was as if he had been asleep for months and let his nails grow out.

He stared past his hands to his feet had the same reaction again as he saw that his toenails were following the same suit. They were also all black, much longer and pointed. He felt dizzy. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. "I must be going delirious from the fever," he thought. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, shook his head, and opened his eyes again. But it was no use. His nails were still the same.

"Maybe it's just an effect of the shots," he pondered. He knew an easy fix to trim back the length and sharpness of the nails. Grabbing some nail clippers, he went to town on his hands and feet, clipping back the beast-like claws into something more normal. He struggled with the density of the nails as they seemed to be much thicker and firmer. On a few occasions, he feared the nail clippers might break under the pressure of the task. Eventually, he made it through all ten toenails and fingernails. They were a more appropriate shape, straight across and not pointing out beyond his fingers. Of course, the colour was in issue. He looked like he was going clubbing with his black nails but he could deal with that. At least he didn't have claws.

Max dumped the clippings in the trash, making sure to bury them so Thiago wouldn't spot them. He went to the mirror to see if there were any other strange changes. Nothing on his legs, or his dick, or his torso, or back, or chest, or neck. "How about my face," he thought. He surveyed his face in the mirror, twisting it from side to side to see if there was anything different.

"My ears," Max panicked. He could see his ears were pointed like an elf's. He thought he was hallucinating again, turning his head to looks at both ears, but no, they were definitely longer and more pointed. He took a tentative hand and pinched the skin. The skin and cartilage beneath were solid. It wasn't just his eyes playing tricks on him.

"What the fuck is going on?" Max said aloud, his heart beating hard against his chest. As he said that, he saw something flash in his mouth. He opened his mouth and screamed. His four canine teeth were a lot sharper. They were imposing in his mouth, taking up more space. It looked like he had on a pair of toy fangs for Halloween. He felt them with his tongue. They were solid and sharper. He flinched as they almost punctured his tongue with their precision. "There is definitely something wrong here," Max felt his stomach drop, not knowing what was happening or what to even do.

Max was in such a state of bother he convinced himself he was being delusional and it was just the drugs and the fever getting to him. He needed rest. He'd go asleep and when he awoke, everything would be ok. He swallowed some pain killers and crawled back into bed, shutting out the world and the changes happening to his body. Soon the drugs kicked in and he was sound asleep.