The Transformation

A stroll through the woods; a coyote's bite. A nightmare ensues. From the perspective of the bitten, with a strange ending. (CN: Disease, emetophobia, paranoia, hallucinations)

Day 1:

Ugh, just another boring day; as usual, I’m taking a stroll through the forest, for the umpteenth time. Life is pretty bleak; nothing much happens, really. Then again, there’s a strange comfort in routines and simplicity, I suppose. If nothing else, these forest walks are always soothing. Nature is so peace-ouch! What the f**k was that?! Son of a...how the hell did a coyote get into these woods? The little b*****d bit me! Where did that little pest go?! Ah, screw it; I’m just going to head home.

Day 2: I swear, that freaking coyote will for this. I’m a huge animal lover, but I don’t take kindly to being bitten by some random animals. Who knows where that thing has been? I cleaned the wound thoroughly, but damn, it still itches. I guess that’s just the healing process.

Day 3: I think I’m coming down with the flu or something; my head is killing me, and I’m feeling very feverish. I’d better go to the pharmacy and stock up on some aspirin.

Day 4: S**t, the flu is only getting worse; I’m nauseous, I’ve been vomiting a lot too. Freaking pain killers won’t work, either. I swear, this is a living hell!

Day 5: Why the f**k are people staring; are they staring?! I don’t know, but I don’t like it. I’ve been on edge all day, and it’s only getting worse; the slightest noise makes me twitch, and I swear, something is seriously wrong with me...

Day 6: I don’t now what to make of life right now; I can’t seem to stay still; I’m always running around, eyeing people suspiciously--did that person just glare at me?--and I’m starting to feel confused and agitated; maybe I should see a doctor. They’ll just think I’m a hypochondriac. Damn them; conspiring against me, no doubt. I keep feeling strange, though...wait, was that a shadow?!

Day 7: I swear, something is wrong here; I keep seeing grinning shadows, hearing people whisper, laughter; I don’t like it. I’m still on edge; how can I not, when the world is against me? I’m so thirsty, though...but it hurts to swallow. I bet people think that I’m silly. Well, I don’t care about them. S**t, I just can’t keep the water down; I’m starting to drool; disgusting!

Day 8: Ugh, people keep distorting, changing shapes; they’re clearly not even human. Worse yet, they keep avoiding me, as if I’m a monster. I bet they’re conspiring against me. And would they please stop offering me water? That stuff is dangerous, I swear! I’m so thirsty though...I’m drooling even more now, but at this point, I don’t really care. I haven’t slept since who-knows-when. The less I sleep, the more agitated I get. Why do people keep floating around? It’s scary. I don’t like it. Hm, that’s odd; my arm is tingly. My fingers are a bit stiff, too. And would people just please stay away?

Day 9: Who are these people? Where am I? It’s so...bright here. Sterile, unsettling. People around--these strangers--keep weeping and lamenting; why are they even here? Why am I here? I want to get out of here, but I can’t seem to move my legs, nor my left arm. I don’t like this; not the people, not this place; nothing. I don’t even know what’s real anymore. Damn it, get me out of here!

Day 10: Patient has passed away; despite our best efforts, the virus was just too far spread. The family wept, as one would expect, but the patient, up until their demise, didn’t even recognize them. Heartbreaking stuff, that. Truth be told, I’m not sure that we could’ve saved them even if they had visited the hospital; I mean, there are only three-four reports a year! Who would suspect it? But still; the family blame themselves, and honestly? So do I. But how were we supposed to know...?

Patient, cause of death; Rabies.

Author's Note

Swearing, possibly unsettling aspects. Meant to be a simple short story about a terrifying fate.