Felanthroid

by Zytharros

The Man-Cat in a Barn

Thunder sounded outside my home, a steel pig barn converted to house horses. I huddled deeper into my little hole in between the hay bales. It was a cold fall night. The wind battered the shelter with all the fury of a thousand bricks, yet with the effectiveness of a dead duck hitting a trampoline with the intent of breaking through the mesh. The rain sounded a loud cacophony over my thoughts, the steel snare drum tashing away under the fastest drumsticks in the world. I shivered, my fur wet as a result of a very recent attempt on my life.

I didn't even know what to think. This transformation had cost me so much and left me feeling so vulnerable. I was so small, so weak. All I could do was run.

I missed my wife. I missed my kid. I missed having opposable thumbs. I wanted, longed, desired, yes, even lusted for my old life. Witha primal growl I hissed and screamed. I thrashed about in my tiny form. I wanted to cook again. I wanted a hug. I whirled and slashed with my claws. I wanted my balls back. I wanted, wanted, wanted...

A few dozen whirls of the claws later and a bale of hay nearly collapsed inward atop of me. I had sliced through the straw restraints that had bound it together, and one bale had not been pinned down by another on top of it. This allowed one side to begin a fall of possible assassination. I cocked my ears back and bolted just in time to avoid it. I leapt up to the rafters and shivered. One hundred pounds of grass almost killed me.

One hundred pounds.

One hundred...

"Frellin'..."

I used to outweigh these bales over two-and-a-half-to-one. At this point, I barely measured one-tenth their weight. Well, if Opalescence was a Maine Coon, a particularly large, long-haired breed of house cat, I could say about fifteen percent, considering I once owned a sixteen-pound kitty of the variety. You see, I was once human. I was relatively successful in life. I was happy. Had a loving family, a good job, a great direction, and some amazing hobbies and plans. Everything was finally going my way after three years of trials and angst.

Then...

Well, let me start from the top.

Comments

[ThatWeatherstormChap]

'I wanted my balls back.'
Huh.