Hollow Eyes (Man & Woman to Cow) by dorintf

Hollow Eyes (Man & Woman to Cow)

dorintf, Bull, Cow, Female, Identity death, Male, Multiple Breasts, Transformation, Udder, udders

Two strangers are kidnapped and turned into cow-people, but only one keeps their mind intact. One must either help the other escape, or leave her to better his chances of survival. In case you don't know, I hate identity death as a concept.

Bentram woke up in a cell laying on cold concrete, unsure of where he was and turning into a monster. He wasn't sure which of these were the most alarming. Probably the monster part.

Normally he was awoken by his alarm clock, signifying he needed to prepare for his morning classes at Florida State University. He only had five semesters and just short of $65,000 of additional student loans towards his degree in Management Information Systems. He'd always been good at computer stuff, and hoped that one day he could land a job at an IT firm and maybe move up to a management position someday. Maybe they'd be able to help with tuition towards getting his MBA. The prospect of a well-paying but mundane corporate job was surprisingly interesting to him. None of this was particularly relevant at the moment as he was apparently growing horns.

"Look, see? It's starting." Ben looked up at the voice. It was coming from a short white guy with thick-framed glasses who nervously shifted his weight from one leg to another. He seemed like he would be more at home in a server room than a ... where was he exactly? Some sort of cell? The man lowered a hand that was holding some sort of syringe gun, one that probably contained whatever magic formula was currently causing Ben's own hands to ache as his fingernails turned black and began to wrap around the top part of his finger.

"Good. About time. That would've been your ass, kid." Ben focused through the pain to examine the other observer to whatever was happening to him. This man was the complete opposite to the first. Everything about him screamed that he was a failed product of one of the recent pointless wars. He was probably in his early forties, his high-and-tight, side-faded haircut hinting at a far right wing-leaning outlook on life, although it was soon obscured as he placed a dirty black cowboy's hat upon his head. He looked like Crocodile Dundee's racist uncle. His scraggly facial hair was not at all complimented by his long goatee. His eyes were two dead things observing an evolving world that deeply confused and scared him. Tattoos covered the sides of his neck, his forearms, and even his fingers. Ben assumed the rest of his body was similarly adorned, and his suspicions of his political views were confirmed as he observed the man's right forearm bore a "Join or Die" snake while his left bore an "AF" acronym in the middle of a target sight. The man screamed white supremacist. He was definitely ex-military, and probably ex-PMC. Bentram wanted to be as far from this person as possible.

Instead, Ben heard a quiet clicking noise as the first of several of his canine teeth fell from his gums, quickly replaced by flat molars that swelled painfully. "What's going on?" he whispered. Every inch of his body was starting to ache, and sweat was pouring from every pore.

"Don't worry about it, man," answered the cowboy. "It'll all be over soon." Here he laughed in a way that indicated it would not indeed be all over soon, a rough cackle like sandpaper being scraped against a rough pistol grip.

Ben's feet began to ache, and as he turned his head to look at them he only now realized he was completely naked. His toes were undergoing a similar change as his fingers, the nails thickening, darkening, and enveloping the skin until they covered the tops of his toes. His sparse chest hair thickened as his breaths came in shallow gasps. "What the fuck, man? What the fuck did you do to me?"

Ben tried to sit up, observing how hair was beginning to cover his legs, his forearms, and his shoulders, even as the short hair on top of his head was starting to fall out, replaced by the short brown hair that he prayed wasn't what he thought it was. Unfortunately, before much longer, the hair had enveloped most of his body, an earthy brown color that now resembled more fur than body hair.

He had just managed to start to get his feet underneath him when a full body ache drove him back to the ground. Everything hurt now, but the pain was greatest in his arms, his legs, and especially his chest. Thick corded muscle swelled on his arms, visible even as the fur completely covered his skin, thick veins the width of a pencil pressing against the brown fur. Large knots appeared on his abdomen as it swelled out into a six pack. His shins and thighs enjoyed a similar swelling as he kicked his feet uncontrollably, his biceps, triceps, hamstrings, and quadriceps spasming and tightening as they expanded. He gasped at what was happening between his legs as his limp cock began to swell and lengthen.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" he repeated as a strange smell assaulted his nose. It was a strong, earthy smell that reminded him of something he hadn't smelled since he was a kid, although his memory vaguely shifted to his childhood friend's parents' farmhouse. It continued growing stronger as he realized it was coming from him, steadily increasing as more and more sweat dripped from his body. It smelled decidedly better than the smell of cheap whiskey and gunsmoke that emitted from the larger of his captors.

"Fuck," said the cowboy. "Do they always smell like that?"

The nerdy guy looked back towards his companion. He adjusted thick glasses as he shifted back and forth nervously. His button down shirt hinted at an office job. It was safe to say this was his very first kidnapping. "Fuck, Russel, I don't know. I've never actually seen one before."

The cowboy shoved the nerd up against the bars of Bentram's cell so quickly that he felt this must have been a practiced movement he'd done several times before. "Don't use my fucking name, you dumb fuck!" The man exuded a casual, thoughtless malice with every movement he made. His hand drifted to a sidearm on his tactical belt, an instrument of death evidently well-polished and handled with more care than any rational being had any business doing. Ben noticed now that the cowboy was wearing camo pants and steel toed boots. Because of course he was. It had always bothered Ben that people like this always seemed to be prepared for any eventuality, as long as the problem presented could be solved by firearms, yet they were never prepared for anything requiring peaceful understanding or learning to appreciate differences. They were scared of nothing while being scared of everything.

The nerdy guy responded, but Ben was too focused on the horrible changes to notice. His eyes watered as sweat dripped into them. His body continued to swell, growing past the physique of a football player, surpassing that of a boxer, and rapidly approaching professional bodybuilder territory. The cell was growing more and more cramped as he continued to grow. He wasn't capable of standing at the moment, but he knew that he was also growing taller, too. Veins on his arms were becoming more pronounced as his arms swelled to 80s action movie proportions. Similar veins were standing out on the backs of his hands as the pain in his fingers started to surpass all other concerns. The space between his pointer and middle fingers was starting to disappear as they began to grow together, his ring and pinkie going through the same motion. His thumb swelled more and more until it was the size of his now conjoined fingers, leaving him with three large digits on each hand. His toes weren't so lucky, as his feet were now the simple cloven hooves of some base animal.

His head drooped back to the cold bars of his cell as a heavy weight in his temples steadily increased. Oh, right, he thought. I was growing horns. They had grown large enough now that he could see them out of the corner of his eye. With a trembling hand he reached up and touched them, the hard, wet bone sliding across his fingers as they started to curl forwards slightly. His spine began to ache at the weight of them until he felt the muscles in his neck also swell to support them. Between the short fur, the hooves, and the horns, it didn't take a great leap of logic to discern what he was becoming.

"You turned me into a fucking cow?!" The words came out slurred as his tongue swelled until he had trouble keeping it behind his lips, a large pink thing dripping with drool.

The more detestable of his captors crouched down, leaning forward to whisper into Ben's pointed ears, his cigarette-stench breath causing them to twitch as they shied away. No part of Ben's body wanted to be remotely near this person. "Relax, kid," he whispered. "Not a cow exactly. Take a look at what's going on between your legs. There's always a silver lining, right? You people are supposed to be big where it counts, right?"

Ben followed the advice, looking between his legs at the same moment he felt his sack touch the now-warm concrete, his balls the size of small oranges and continuing to swell. His member was slowly being enveloped in a furry sheath, but even as it was obscured he saw it was far larger flacid than it had ever been while erect. He felt a silly sense of pride, and couldn't suppress himself as he felt a pleasurable sensation in his groin just before the red tip of his cock peaked out of its new home.

"Besides," continued the man. "You may be an animal now, but that's better than being a washing machine."

Except he hadn't said "washing machine." He'd said a word that Bentram had hated ever since he had first heard it, back when he was a child in gym class. It was a word he had to ask his parents about, and they had to have an uncomfortable explanation of why he was called that and what sort of bad people used the word. It was one of the worst words ever conceived, one that he hoped to never hear himself called again. Bentram summoned the strength to mutter out a simple, "Fuck you." The cowboy responded by spitting into Ben's face, although Ben laughed weakly, reveling in the small victory of even momentarily having upset this horrible human being.

Bentram arched his back and screamed as a sharp paint heralded the appearance of a long, ropey tail that thrashed about, its tufted end collecting his own sweat as it rubbed against the dirty floor of his cell. Finally, his jaw pressed outwards into a bovine snout, rounding out his transformation into some sort of minotaur. Ben slumped to the ground, his eyes drooping as he fought off exhaustion. His large tongue hung from his mouth as this final change overtook him, one noticed only by the smaller of his two captors.

"I think he's done," offered the smaller man. He pointed towards the monster on the floor. "Look at his eyes. I think he's gone."

The cowboy--Russel?--stood up, kicking at Bentram, the steel on the end of his boot causing the bull person to recoil in pain as small cuts formed on his thick hide. "He fucking well better not be. You still in there, boy?"

Bentram was confused at the question, but soon realized that they might think his mind had changed as well. He quickly ran through his options. It might be better if they thought that his mind had deteriorated. If they thought he was a dumb animal, they might underestimate him and he might be able to slip away. Russel reached behind him and picked up a strange apparatus that Bentram had never seen before, a thin red rod with a forked end that somewhat resembled a magnet you'd see off of an old Bugs Bunny cartoon. "You fucking hear me, freak? Don't fucking play with me. You still in there? Huh?" He pressed the object into Bentram's neck and electric fire soon raced through his body. He roared in pain, the animal bellow sounding revolting to him. He tried to move away from the bars of his cell in time, but the rod was long enough that getting away was impossible. The cowboy leaned forward again, holding the cattle prod just inches away from Ben's skin. "Feels good, huh, washing machine? You want more of this? Are you still fucking in there?"

Ben nodded quickly. The advantage was gone now, but he would do anything to not feel the pain again.

Russel pulled the prod away. "Stomp your hoof on the ground twice if you understand what I'm saying." Ben nodded again as he did as he was told, the weakened motion earning a sharp laugh from the other man. "Well, lookie here. College boy smart washing machine knows how to count to two."

The younger man sighed in relief. "Thank fuck. It's not gonna do us any good with the other one if they go braindead."

Other one?

Russel nodded. "Phase one complete. Thanks for being such a helpful guinea pig. Now you get to help us out with phase two, kiddo." He pointed the prod at Ben again. "Up on your feet. Try anything and what I'll do to you next will make you wish I was only sticking you with this thing." He pulled out a large knife, holding it in the opposite hand. What else did the man casually keep attached to his waist? Mace? A flamethrower? A tactical nuke? He nodded towards the door as he addressed the other man. "Get the door open."

Ben reached out for the bars, slowly trying to get his feet under him. When the cowboy felt he was taking too long, he again pressed the prod into him, this time aiming for his grapefruit sized balls but only touching the inside of his thigh. Ben bellowed in agony once again, the pain giving him a sudden burst of strength he needed to get to his feet. The younger man unlocked the cell and opened the door, stepping back to allow Russel enough room to step closer.

"Pretty safe to say your mind works but your voice doesn't. Say something anyway."

Ben couldn't form words if he tried. The breath had gone out of him as he again reached out to the bars for support, the dirty white paint flaking away as his ugly fingers slid across their rough surface.. He tried to speak, his voice coming out as a wheezing bellow. He tried again, but only managed a whimper before he vomited what used to be french fries onto the floor.

"Fuck," Russel responded. "Blake, you're cleaning that up," he said, his caution over using their real names seemingly forgotten as he covered his nose at the smell of the vomit. He gestured to Ben, waving him out of the cell with the cattle prod. "Come on, kid, we need you in the next room for dramatic effect."

Ben shuffled out of the cell, his hooves dragging slowly, although he quickly sped past the two men and towards the door as Russel held the prod towards him again. As he passed his captors he noticed he was nearly two heads above the largest of the two, and he had to duck lowly to pass underneath the top of the door. He must have been at least eight and a half feet tall now. The hallway outside was short, with a single door on the right and one across from it on the left. At the end of the hall, another door held a small window to the outside world that indicated it must be night. Ben wondered if it was the same night as he was abducted, although he still couldn't remember when or how they must have taken him.

"On the right, there's a good lad." For a moment, Ben thought about charging the outside door, but the thought was just born from more of an instinctual need to flee rather than a rational decision. For one, he was much too weak to make it very far. For another, at least one of the men had a gun and a knife to his back. He instead complied, ducking his head again and entering a room very much like the one he had just left. The first of two noticeable differences was that this room held two cages, although one of them looked like it had been hastily constructed from a simple chain-link fence. The other noticeable difference was the unconscious naked woman in the other cell.

She looked slightly older than Ben, late twenties or early thirties. Despite not having a single piece of clothing, everything about her screamed "rich," from her perfectly manicured fingernails to her blonde designer haircut to the tribal tattoo on the small of her back that screamed "this will piss daddy off."

"Inside the other one. Now."

Ben shambled into the smaller cell. He had just enough space to turn around to face his captors and slump to the floor, but not enough to allow him to sit comfortably. He pulled his knees towards his chest, his genitals pressed painfully against the fence as he looked up in fear at Russel. The neo-Nazi bastard quickly slid a military-grade padlock over the hinge of the door and stepped back to address Ben. "Hard part's done, kid. Good job. We appreciate the cooperation. Now you just have to sit there and look intimidating as my business partner ruins this cunt's life. If you throw in a growl or too I might even let you live to see daylight again."

The man Ben now knew as Blake stepped up to the door of the other cell. "We ready to do this?"

"Yeah," Russel replied. His smile was one of sheer sadistic satisfaction. "We ready to do this."

Blake nodded and unlocked the second cell. He bent over the unconscious woman and quickly injected her with another delivery device similar to the one he had used on Bentram. He waved a vial containing a clear liquid underneath her nose just before stepping back. The lady coughed and gasped as she was forced awake. It took her several moments before her eyes could focus on the two men standing above her, and another moment for her to take notice of the monster in the cage near her. She screamed and recoiled to the back of the cell, bumping her head loudly against the wall.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What's happening? What's happening? Where am I?" Again she looked at Ben and screamed, the sheer terror in her voice hurting him more than the cattle prod ever could. Am I really that much of a monster? he thought. "I want to go home!"

"Lady, what you want is worth about as much as cum in a sock." Russel paused, his foot tapping the floor impatiently, as if he were waiting for his turn in line at a grocery store. "What the fuck is taking so long? The other one was turning before it even woke up." Ben noticed how Russel was already referring to Ben as an "it," not a "he."

"I don't fucking know, man!" Blake returned. "I'm not a fucking scientist, I just stole this shit from work! Maybe it takes longer for--Wait! Look! There we go."

The woman screamed in pain as she gripped her sides, no doubt feeling the same cruel aching that Ben had just experienced. "What the fuck did you do to me? What's happening?" She held her hands in front of her face, screaming as her fingernails started to darken.

"Thank fuck for that." Russel smiled at Blake, then playfully punched him in the arm in a way the younger man seemingly wasn't used to. "Good job, kid. Fucking easy street from here on out. Good beer and better pussy." He crouched low to the cage, leaning close to the woman as she continued to scream as tiny horns began to break past the skin on her forehead. "Listen up, sweetie. See my friend back there?" Here he motioned towards Bentram. "That's ... Tyrone or Kanye or whatever the fuck his name is. He's in a real mood tonight. A real rapey mood. And he'd like nothing less than to fuck you in your tight ass all night long."

White hairs were forming in between the woman's small breasts as she looked at the monster in the other cell in horror. Ben shook his head, trying to convey to the stranger that he would never do something like that, but she was in far too much distress to notice the gesture.

"Be a shame for such a nice rich bitch like you to have to go through something like that, huh? See, you're turning into a freak like him, and he's definitely gonna want to get to spend a little time with you and that shaved thing between your legs. Now I don't want that to happen. And you definitely don't want that to happen. Luckily, the only thing we need from you to keep the big, bad monster away is for you to say a little something into my phone here." He held a cell to the bars and pressed a small red circular icon on the screen. "Just call out for dear old rich-asshole daddy, and we can make this whole thing go away. Go ahead, darlin'."

The woman's legs and arms were now covered in the same sparse, short hair that covered Ben's body, although hers were white with black splotches interspersed here and there, muscles slowly swelling underneath. "What?" she asked. "Dad? My dad? What?"

Russel started to stick the prod through the bars before thinking more about it. "Just scream out for help, bitch, it can't be that hard to do right about now, right?"

Realization dawned in the woman's eyes as the hair thickened until it covered her entire body, a pretty Holstein pattern covering her from head to hoof. "O-Okay. Yeah, okay." She addressed the phone. "Dad, it's me! Please, help! Give them whatever they want." She started sobbing violently. "Please let me go home, I just want to go home!"

Russel nodded, pressed a button, and slid the phone into his pocket. "Fucking perfect, hun. Should've been an actress. Now, it's too late to turn you back, but once dad's got the money to us we can get you back home safe and sound. We'll even throw in the antidote. You get to go home and not be a freak, and me and my friends have a little change in our pocket. Everybody gets to be happy."

The woman's screams grew louder as her skin began to stretch, thick muscles forming on her arms and legs. Ben could swear he could see her small breasts begin to swell along with them and felt a stirring between his legs. He shifted ashamedly even as his cock started to slip out of its sheath, which only added to the terror the young woman was feeling as she watched it grow. Bentram tried to cover himself and again reassure her with a shake of his head. But the scent of his fellow captive started to reach his snout and before long his cock was fully exposed, swelling to a foot long and continuing to grow.

The woman covered her eyes and continued to weep, holding her breasts as they definitely grew past mere handfuls. Ben noticed that just underneath her new assets, two pink dots had slipped from her skin and swelled to the size of his pinkie finger--back when he had pinkie fingers. Another set of breasts appeared underneath the originals, quickly catching up with them as they continued to grow, something Russel must have found funny as he barked out a rough laugh. She spread her legs as something else started swelling between them, just above her pink pussy lips. Ben felt ashamed, but couldn't look away from her pussy as his dick throbbed, now fully erect and almost hitting him in his chin as he sat huddled on the floor.

The lips themselves were swelling even as they started to slide further between her legs, taking up a position closer to her anus. But what drew his attention even more was the mound forming in the space it had previously occupied, four bumps poking from her flesh, the white hairs covering her crotch spreading thin as what must have been an udder formed. She screeched in pain, releasing her breasts and grabbing at the soft bag, pressing against it as if she could keep it from growing. Ben looked back up to her chest and saw that all four had grown so large that they were impeding the movement of her arms, now the size of cantaloupes and continuing to grow. Her nipples were now four inch long ugly teats; Ben felt ashamed at how badly he wanted to touch them. The udder had already surpassed her breasts in size, sitting like a medicine ball attached to her waist.

The woman again looked at Ben, although her expression wasn't filled with the same amount of horror he had seen before. He became aware of a new type of smell coming from between her legs, one even stronger than before. She bit her bottom lip nervously for a moment forcing herself to look away from the male in the adjoining cell. Instead she focused her attention on her hands as they began to shift into the same three-fingered shape as Ben's own. However, they didn't stop there. They continued to shift, the thick black keratin overtaking her fingers entirely until they had changed completely into simple cloven hooves.

"That's ... weird." Blake had also noticed the change. "Fuck, I hope she's not going further than the other one."

"If she turns all the way into a fucking cow I'll bury you in the same hole as the 'prototype' over there."

The prototype? Ben realized they must have been talking about him. Was that what he was doing here? They needed to make sure the formula worked before they used it to ransom the poor girl still changing before him. He now vaguely remembered his vision being obstructed by something as he was walking home from class. It was hard to breathe and impossible to see, and the next thing he knew he had woken up in this place. Had his life been ruined because he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?

The woman's breasts finally slowed as they reached the size of basketballs. She absentmindedly rubbed at her nipples with her useless hooves, a large tongue slipping from her mouth as she licked her lips while staring at Ben, her floppy ears flattening nervously against the side of her head. For a second he swore he could see her grin before her mouth started to push out into a snout.

Russel laughed again. "Hey, kid, looks like she likes you! Maybe we really can let her spend a little time with you, huh?" He found this immensely funny, although his companion didn't seem to share in the mirth as he pointed towards the girl as her changes stopped.

"Russel," Blake said. "Something's wrong. What's she doing that for?"

Ben wasn't sure what the other man had seen. The woman was shaking and sobbing, but she had been doing that over her entire ordeal. Ben then noticed something about her mannerisms. She was in distress, yes, but a sort of lethargy was now overtaking her, almost like she was drunk. It didn't seem like she was simply resigned to her fate, there was something else happening. She fell onto her side, curling herself into a ball as a strange refrain started coming from her mouth even as tears streamed down her eyes.

"Go home. Want go home. Want go home." Her voice was working much better than Ben's, giving him some new hope that perhaps his would come back in time. As she looked up at Blake, some light seemed to be passing from her eyes as her pupils dilated. "Come on go home. Come on go home."

"What the fuck is she saying?" Russel yelled. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I don't fucking know, man!" replied the other. "I told you, I don't have a fucking manual for this shit!"

"I want my mom. Mom?" She had now turned to look at Russel, but she quickly looked away as she saw the harsh expression on the man's face. Instead, she focused on Ben, surprisingly the least unpleasant face in the room. He would never forget that look in her eyes, nor the words she said next.

"Mama. I want mama. Mama."

Russel's rage was palpable. "Why the fuck is she doing that?!"

"I don't know!" answered Blake. "Maybe we gave her too much?"

Tears were flowing from her eyes as something precious died inside of them. "Mama. Maaammma. Mmmmaaammmoooo. Mmmmmmoooo. Moooo."

She was gone. The simple cry for her mother had turned into the mournful lowing sound of a farm animal, something to be used for milk and then violently slaughtered by an uncaring species for its own needs. The sounds coming from her lips weren't afraid now. They were a simple, thoughtless noise. She started to lick her tears from the floor, likely finding their salty taste enjoyable. She--it--looked at the pair of humans in question as a puddle of urine started to form underneath it. The animal took no notice, instead turning back to Bentram with a stupid expression on its face, licking its lips as it smiled and drooled while staring at the swiftly retreating cock of the male in front of her. It tried to turn around, smiling as it presented its rear to him, but slipped on its own waste and was forced to lay back down. Before it could try again, it opened its maw in a yawn, laid its head down in the yellow puddle, and fell asleep.

The pair stood silently, watching the cow drift off to sleep. The only sound in the room was the 600 lbs monster sobbing in the corner. "You mother fuckers," Ben whispered too quietly for the others to hear, the return of his voice going entirely unnoticed to anyone present.

Russel finally reacted the only way he knew how to react to anything. "Fuck!" he screamed, and physically lifted the smaller man off of the ground and slammed him into the bars of the cage of the loudly snoring animal, its slumber not bothered in the least. "What the fuck did you do?! What the fuck did you do?!"

"I-I-I--" Blake's mind was apparently empty. There was a lot of that going around.

Russel tossed him to the ground in the direction of the doorway. "Outside! Now!" Blake scrambled away as quickly as he could. Russel kicked the bars of the sleeping bovine, who still wasn't bothered enough by the outbursts to acknowledge them. Not getting the reaction he childishly wanted, he instead turned to look at the other animal in the room, striding towards Bentram before pressing the cattle prod into his leg for much longer than before. Bentram screamed in agony until the prod was pulled away from him, only to be pressed against him several more times, Russel screaming his favorite four letter word each time he pressed it against his skin. Finally Ben couldn't muster up the effort to even breathe and slipped into unconsciousness.

Ben awoke in similar circumstances to the way he had last time: cold concrete floor, in a cage, in horrible pain. The main difference this time was that he wasn't turning into a freak--he already was one.

The other difference was the animal in the cage next to him. It was already awake, and must have been staring at him the entire time he was unconscious. It became very excited when it saw his eyes opening, its tail wagging slowly side to side, its ears perking up, its tongue lolling from its mouth as it smiled stupidly. It began rubbing its head on the bars of its cage, like a dog wanting to be petted. Ben couldn't help but laugh until he remembered the animal had been a sapient person not even ...

A few hours ago? A day? How long had it been? It was hard to tell without any indicator of time. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen daylight. He was hungry and was still tired, which could mean he had only been asleep for a few hours, but that could also be simple fatigue from the treatment he had recently endured.

The creature gave a simple "Moo?", which sounded disturbingly like a question, a mindless smile still on its face. Ben frowned, thinking that what he had endured was nothing compared to what it had just gone through. Perhaps it was a small mercy that it couldn't remember its old life. It tried to reach through the bars of its cage, but its hooves were too large and ungainly to fit through the narrow steel beams. It didn't appear to understand why it couldn't reach through them as it continued trying to futilely reach for Ben.

Ben sighed. "What the fuck am I going to do?" He tried to stand up, but with the door closed on his much smaller makeshift cell he could barely even move his legs. He reached up to grasp the sides of the cage, his large fingers barely able to slip through the openings in the fence. Once he felt fairly certain he had a solid grasp, he tried to pull himself up, his legs aching as blood started circulating in them again after bearing his weight for so long. The fence held his weight for a moment, but it was so shoddy that it began to bend slightly under his immensely larger size. He frowned. If it continued to bend he wouldn't be able to pull himself upright. If he kept pressing on it, it might even fall apart and then--

"Oh shit," he whispered. For a moment he was worried that he was the one who had lost all his intelligence. Ben slid back down to his ass, wincing as his grapefruit-sized balls almost slipped underneath him. After shifting to provide them some room, he experimentally pressed against the fence and while it remained in place he was definitely encouraged by how much more flimsy it felt than he was expecting. He pressed his shoulders into the back of the cage to provide himself some additional leverage. The fence didn't budge, but when he leaned far enough that his knees were pressing into it he felt it give slightly. When he began pressing with his hands and knees he felt it give up the ghost and soon had enough space that he could just barely squeeze his legs through the bottom of the door.

Ben ducked his head as his arms passed through the fence, the sharp rungs pressing into his flesh uncomfortably. He doubted it was pressing against him enough to scratch his thick hide, but it was still painful. He leaned his head back and tried to squeeze through the newly-made hole, inadvertently catching the end of one of his horns on part of the fence. Groaning in annoyance, he moved his neck in an awkward position until he had slipped it past the fence and then ...

And then he was free. Or free of the cage at least. His captors probably meant to put him back in his original cage, or perhaps to simply shoot him and dump his body somewhere. The alarm caused by his cellmate losing its mind had made them careless, and Ben wasn't going to let the opportunity slip by. It was unlikely he could get away, but if he failed the result would be the same as it would be if he remained in his cage: a bullet in his forehead.

The door to the room was open. He peeked his head outside, scanning left and right for any sign of his captors, but they were thankfully absent. He examined the door at the end of the hallway and saw daylight was just beginning to pass through the window. It must have been dawn. He could make a break for it now. Even if he failed, anything was better than waiting here.

He placed one hoof into the hallway before he heard a mournful "Moo" from the other cage.

Oh. Right.

Ben looked back at the cow as it continued uselessly attempting to reach outside of its bars towards him. Its dumb eyes contained a barely recognizable sadness, its shoulders slumped and its bottom lip trembling. It wanted to follow him.

"Fuck," Ben hissed. "Okay, look ..." He stepped back towards the creature. "They're going to ransom you. You'll go back to your dad. I know you don't know what any of those words mean, but you'll be in a better spot than coming with me. Even if your mind doesn't work anymore, they aren't going to give that information away before they dump you off for the money. It sounds like your family is rich, so they'll probably be able to find a way to get you back to normal, right?"

Almost everything Ben was saying was a lie, and he knew it. The more violent of the two would probably take the frustration created by Ben's escape out on the creature. He felt sad at the idea of it being beaten and electrocuted over and over without it even understanding why. Ben felt like he was probably on the road to vegetarianism if he lived long enough to eat another meal. He supposed that given his new species affiliation he wouldn't have much choice in the matter.

"Mooooo?" the creature inquired. It nuzzled its forehead against the bars and licked the cold steel. A few times it must have forgotten the door was there at all as it attempted to walk towards Ben, only to bump its head against the uncaring cage door.

Ben steeled himself. "No. Sorry. You have to stay." Escape was unlikely, but it would be impossible if he had to take care of the poor dumb animal as he fled. Trying to help it would get them both killed. The smart thing to do would be to leave.

And so it was with not a small amount of surprise that Ben found himself stepping closer to the creature. "I couldn't even get you out of here if I tried." He placed his strange three-fingered hand on the door to the cell. "It's locked and the other guy has the key and--"

The door opened. The cow stepped back, turning its head at an angle, all of its mental faculties being directed to processing this new change in its environment. They hadn't locked the door? They hadn't locked the door. They hadn't locked the fucking door. How shitty were these people at their jobs?

Ben pressed the door harder until it slid open. The cow responded by immediately barreling into him, hugging him tightly around the waist and licking his chest and neck. It wasn't as tall as him, but was still just barely a head shorter, which would've put it as being much taller than the average person. It nuzzled its head into his chest, its blunt horns feeling strangely comforting against his skin.

He could still leave it behind. He could push the thing back into the cage and run away before it could recover. It wasn't like it understood how a door works. He'd be out the door before it managed to wander out into the hallway. Ben looked down at the cow, at its curious expression that disappeared as it smiled when it saw his eyes look down at her. It so desperately wanted to remain near him.

"Ahhhh ... fuck."

Ben gently slid out of the creature's embrace, then grabbed it by the wrist and pulled it along with him into the hallway. This was stupid. This was stupid. The right thing to do would be to leave it. This was extraordinarily fucking stupid.

The pair reached the end of the hallway. Ben crouched low, peering out of the window at the world outside. They were in a heavily forested area, the thick green vines and soggy ground almost seeming like they were in a swamp. A gravel driveway led up to the ramshackle building, upon which sat a large white van and an even larger black jeep that screamed penis insecurity to the heavens above. That would be Russel's. Ben vaguely recognized the van from somewhere and felt like it must have been the vehicle that was used in his own abduction.

"Okay. Cars. Can't imagine they're dumb enough to leave the keys inside." Ben confirmed his fears as he tried to open the doors of both vehicles. The jeep opened easily, but the van was locked. Ben quickly scanned the interior of the van through the window after gently pushing the cow to the ground, trying to get the creature to understand that standing out in the open wasn't very helpful to their escape attempt. Ben moved from the van to the jeep, and his large jaw dropped open as he came to a sudden realization.

This wasn't a jeep. It was a humvee. Probably purchased from some army surplus auction. The guy was definitely ex-military. There was a time before he went to college that Ben had considered joining enlisting before he had come to the realization that he didn't have a great deal of interest in dying in an unfamiliar country in order to maximize the profits of British Petroleum. But while he was looking he stumbled across several useless military facts, one of which was that humvees didn't use ignition keys. Fumbling around for one's keys while one was under the threat of being perforated by large machine gun fire wasn't a smart idea, so they simply had an ignition button to warm the vehicle and then another to start the engine.

"Holy shit," he whispered. "This might actually work."

Ben helped the cow into the passenger seat, the process made much more difficult as it kept trying to slip out of the seat and back over to his side like an unruly child protesting a trip to the dentist. When he finally had the creature in the seat he reached across its lap to try to fasten the seatbelt across it while keeping his hands away from its tits and udder as much as possible. The situation was made much more difficult as the cow raised its hips, pressing the udder into the bottom of his hand and sandwiching it between the soft pink bag and her lowest set of breasts. Its teats swelled several inches as it gave a quiet lowing noise before leaning forward to lick at his neck and attempt to touch his crotch.

"Okay, yeah, I like you too," Ben whispered. "Be fucking still, okay?"

When he had the creature secured he slipped out of its clumsy embrace, shutting the door as he leaned away. It was made entirely of plastic cloth and didn't seem particularly sturdy for a vehicle that would likely be running over landmines, but he didn't have time enough to dwell on the thought. If the animal managed to slip out of the seatbelt then it could easily tear through the flimsy material, but he knew that would require more thought processing than it was capable of now.

"Now what do I do about you?" Ben asked the unmarked white van. He had no immediate way to disable it. He thought about perhaps breaking the window and bending the steering wheel like he had done to the walls of the fence inside, but even if he was strong enough he supposed that would be a minor inconvenience. He could try to puncture the fuel chamber somehow with his horns, but he had no idea where to even begin to do that. Besides, he didn't feel like they were strong enough to punch through solid steel. At most they'd only be able to ...

"Okay," Ben whispered. "This is stupid, but what isn't today?" He took a step back, dropping to all fours for a moment as the cow squealed gleefully as his ass was raised into the air. He then lunged towards the van's front left tire, an instinctual certainty coming over him that this was a method of attack that was sure to work. The tire surrendered its life with a loud popping noise, the compressed air hitting Ben in the face with no small amount of pain. He cursed the tire for dying so loudly, but he felt that it wasn't loud enough to be audible to anyone inside the building. He repeated the motion with the back left tire just as easily and contemplated going for a third when he felt that his luck was surely about to run out. He ran quickly to the driver's side of the humvee, shushing the cow thing inside as he whipped open the door. The creature began to moo happily at his return.

"Just have to slip inside and ..." Ben suddenly wondered how he was going to fit in the damned thing. He had enough of a time getting the cow inside, and she was smaller and didn't have a steering wheel getting in the way. Without any other idea, he simply left the door open as he slid in, his left leg and arm hanging out of the vehicle in a way that he hoped wouldn't lead to his dismemberment. The cow was leaning towards him, trying to pay obeisance to its savior, or rather one particular part of its savior's anatomy. "None of that now. Not on a first date, hun. Just hang on, okay?"

Ben had a hard time pressing the ignition buttons as they were difficult to see and his fingers were larger and didn't want to move the way they always had. As the engine roared to life, Ben was both thankful that the large machine had started and also fearful of the sound, knowing there was no way the two bastards hadn't heard it. He slapped the cow's hooves out of the way harsher than he'd meant to in an effort to grab the gear shift and throw the thing into reverse. His hoof kept slipping on the accelerator, but he'd finally manage to press it by moving his ankle in an awkward direction. His legs didn't bend the same way anymore. The humvee sped backwards and he was thankful that it was a bit easier to press the brake than the acceleration pedal. Just as he was putting the vehicle in drive, Russel burst out of the door, shotgun in hand. He was shouting something, and while Ben couldn't hear him over the roar of the engine he was fairly certain that the word "fuck" was featured in his exclamations at least seven times.

Ben found himself repeating the same word as he turned the jeep, mud and gravel being thrown into the air as its large tires scrambled for purchase on the old gravel. He had nearly managed to get the vehicle pointed in the right direction when Russel opened fire. Thankfully the front of the humvee was still pointing enough in the direction of their attacker that the hard plating on the front absorbed the pellets. The window wasn't even scuffed, although the bovine fastened into the seat next to him began howling its displeasure. Ben stared at Russel for a moment before he was out of sight, regretting not for the last time that he no longer had the capability of flipping someone the bird. As they sped away he watched the two men rush toward the van, only to stop when they took in the damage done to its tires. Ben couldn't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation before he focused on maintaining his eyes on the makeshift road and his hoof on the pedal.

Ben had counted on being hopelessly lost, but he assumed he would find some sort of backroad before too long. Instead, one washed-out muddy road seemed to lead to another. The area was swampy, leading him to believe that he was probably still in Florida. Was this what the Everglades looked like? The lack of any other vehicle on the road also didn't bode well for trying to find civilization. He didn't know what the next plan was once they reached a population center. He felt he would be leaving one group of assholes firing weapons at him and approaching another, larger group doing the same should he attempt to contact the police. This seemed like a part of the country that would be filled with hiding spots, abandoned houses or caves or whatever. But then how long would they hide, and what would he do about the vehicle? He couldn't exactly park it somewhere and then walk, dragging a lowing cow mutant behind him the entire way.

Said cow mutant had not stopped attempting to crawl into his lap in the thirty or so minutes since they had made their escape. Its animal brain seemed bound and determined to make as much affectionate contact with him as possible. It alternated between leaning towards his crotch to licking his right ear until the thing was sodden with its drool. Ben had been regularly wishing he were a crueler person and had left the thing back in the cell, although he felt a small pang of regret at having the thought.

Eventually the creature became bored and turned its attention to licking at the accumulated water on the clear plastic sheet that served as the passenger's side window. This lasted until it had apparently run out of moisture to absorb. It momentarily seemed to contemplate resuming its ear-grooming activities before it decided to make more room for its large frame by slamming its hooves on the top of the dash, trying in vain to destroy whatever it could in order to provide itself with more legroom.

"Okay, no, stop that okay?" There was no way that Ben could concentrate on the road and also keep the creature from attempting to tear the vehicle apart. It soon began banging on the dash with both hooves, but stopped when something fell from underneath the metal plating. It tried to lean forward to pick up the fallen object, probably hoping it was food. Ben looked at the small rectangular device, a single red light blinking ominously on one side. He wasn't sure what a tracking device looked like, but he was quite certain that this was what a tracking device looked like.

Ben parked the humvee temporarily, hopped out of the vehicle, and then ran to the passenger side. Of course Russel would be the type of person to keep something like this in his vehicle. He opened the door and tried to hold the cow's legs in place while he reached for the device.

The cow was apparently very happy to have him in this position, as it spread its legs wide and lifted its udder, revealing its sweaty slit. Ben couldn't help but pause for a second to observe it and the heady scent it was giving off. It reminded him of the smell of rich earth and green grass, and he shuddered as he licked his lips. It was so wet, and the strange triangular bit of skin serving as the hood of the creature's clit was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world to the bull. His nose began to run as his nostrils flared to take in even more of the scent. When he felt his cock slip from its sheath he shook his head and once again focused on the device. He managed to grab it and felt bad as he took one last glance at the swollen, smelly slit before him before leaning back and shutting the door. The cow inside mooed loudly in disappointment.

"Fuck you, Russel. Fuck you so very much." Ben was about to toss the device under the wheel of the humvee, intending to crush it, before he had another idea. He took a few steps back, silently thanking his father for making him play little league as a kid. He hurled the device as far back into the woods as he could, his enhanced strength sending it sailing through the air at a distance that he couldn't help but feel a little proud of.

He slid back behind the wheel, glancing over and sneering as the cow continued lifting its udder before it ran its hoof across its wet cunt before holding it up to his nose. "Okay, yeah, I know," he mumbled as he shied away and tried to inhale as little of the scent as he could. "You're super in-heat or whatever. Message received. Go the fuck to sleep or something, yeah?" He hoped that throwing the device into the woods would throw the pair off their trail for a little while. His trick with the tires wouldn't keep them away forever, and he felt absolutely certain they were going to be trying to find them soon, if they weren't already. Still, they had a good lead. Even if Russel called one of his surely many Hitler Youth associates to give them a lift it would be unlikely they'd be able to catch up. So long as they kept moving, and he could keep the cow thing's hands off of his dick, they may just make it out of this alive. He'd just keep driving this thing until it ran out of--

Cold dread filled him as he looked at the gas indicator. "Fuck you, Russel!" he screamed for the second time in as many minutes. The pointer was hovering over the "E," bouncing merrily along with the happy little bumps in the road as it playfully hovered past where the white line turned into a red line.

The cow became agitated at the tone of his voice, so Ben tried to soothe it as much as possible by using what he hoped were more pleasant, higher-pitched tones. He felt bad that he had automatically shifted into the same tactic he'd use on a dog to this thing that had been a human being hours ago. "It's okay," he whispered. "I'm sorry. It's okay." He unconsciously reached his hand out to the cow, who immediately began trying to place its head underneath the offered hand. When it couldn't do that, it simply placed one of its hand-hooves on top and the other on bottom, pulling his arm over into an embrace. "There, good," responded Ben. "Everything's gonna be okay. We'll get outta this shit. Somehow."

"Moo," the cow replied.

The humvee lasted another twenty minutes before it began sputtering violently, much longer than Ben had believed it capable of. He attempted to pull it to the side of the road and maybe a little further. He could throw some branches on top of it, and maybe if their pursuers drove by at night they'd miss it and keep driving. The vehicle pulled off of the road and slid through the thick brush until with a horrible noise it crashed into a tree that Ben hadn't even noticed. It was hard to tell which foliage could be safely run over from the stuff that couldn't be. This of course led to loud, worried lows from the cow creature, which inevitably led directly into Ben spending a few precious minutes trying to calm it down. It became much happier when Ben unfastened its seatbelt and helped it out of the vehicle.

Its immediate response to being free was to drop to its knees and begin slurping away at Ben's sack. Ben started to reprimand the cow before it moved away and began munching on whatever random plants were closest to it, its hunger taking precedence over other needs. Ben allowed the creature to graze while he threw whatever branches and vines he could scavenge from among the ones he had just destroyed over the humvee. He felt sure they'd be able to see it, or to see the tracks leading into the woods where it had entered them, but any attempt at concealing it was better than just leaving it uncovered.

When he felt he couldn't do any better, he left the humvee and returned to where he had left the cow, only to find that it wasn't there. For a moment he felt grateful he wouldn't have to take care of it any longer, but he immediately felt horrible at the thought. The thing was his responsibility, and it had probably saved both of their lives in finding the tracking device, or at least prolonged them. Ben hoped that was the only reason he was feeling like he wanted to help the creature, but he knew it wasn't. Part of his mind had already shifted to thinking that he needed to protect it, keep danger away from it as his female and potential mate. After all, it belonged to him now.

He shook his head. "Except it doesn't. It used to be a person, I used to be a person, I still am a person. I'm not a fucking animal and I'm not going to listen to my dick here when we need to be getting the fuck out of--"

Ben finally found the cow thing. It was still munching away, blissfully bereft of any of those horribly inconvenient moral dilemmas humans unfortunately regularly dealt with as it fed its four-chambered stomach, occasionally vomiting up a hunk of cud before chewing contently and swallowing it again. He was more than a little grossed out by the act, but he supposed he'd better get used to it, as he would probably be doing the same thing if he lived long enough to see his next meal. The cow finally took notice of him, looking over its shoulder as it raised its tail, lowering its four breasts to the ground as it raised its ass, its fleshy, dripping pink cunt twitching visibly in his direction.

His mind was blank for a few moments before he sighed and tried to clear his head. He was glad he was upwind from the thing. He was afraid what would happen if he smelled the creature again. Instead of fucking her like a rutting animal, he held his breath, strode toward her, and once again took her by the hoof and led her away from the road and into the thick brush.

"So let's go over this again. Seath the Scaleless was a huge dick. HUGE dick. He was picked on by the other dragons for not having any scales. We're talking Rudolph the Red Nosed Fucking Reindeer levels of bullying. So he goes to this big bad chucklefuck named Gwyn and tells him about the dragons' secret weakness. Mother fucker starts throwing lightning bolts like there's no tomorrow and completely fucks their shit up. Then he's like, 'Well, guess I'm like a god now. Hope the First Flame can burn forever, because that'd be really shit if it didn't.' But of course that didn't last too long before zombies started popping up and--Hey, you still listening? There'll be a test on this shit."

The cow interrupted Ben's explanation of the intricacies of Dark Souls lore with a simple question: "Moo?". It was the third--fourth?--time he had gone through the tale. He mainly just needed to hear the sound of his own voice to keep a hold on his sanity. Anything was better than focusing on the large biting flies and the ominous ripples in the deeper parts of the brackish water. He had tried to sing a few songs, but only then realized that he didn't really know the words of too many well enough. Instead he had resorted to video game storylines. Anything to keep his mind off of his current predicament. He didn't want to think about becoming a freak, nor of how badly his legs hurt, nor of how deep his hooves sank into the muck with every step, nor of how many snakes and alligators he had seen on their jaunt, nor any of the other myriad things wrong with his life at the moment.

He finally came to a stop. He needed a rest and was getting hungry enough to try out some of the hastily-grabbed leaves the cow had been munching on for the past few hours. The cow didn't notice the abrupt stop and bumped into the back of him, its large breasts and larger udder mashing against his sweaty back in a way that he felt ashamed was very welcome. He turned around to face the creature, taking it by the hoof as it started to turn to present its sopping wet cunt to him. Why did something that smelled so bad smell so good?

"Let's stop for the night, okay? There's gotta be a decent hotel around here, right? I left my wallet ... somewhere ... but these are good country folk. They gotta be more than happy to help out two cow people walking out here in Bumblefuck Egypt. Shit, I'd even settle for a barn to sleep in. Seems pretty fitting now, right?"

The cow attempted to sink to its knees, unopposed as it must be to the brackish, stagnant water if it meant sucking the bull man off.

Ben lifted it back to its hooves. "What is with you, lady? You just like always DTF or what? We've still got more important things to do. I haven't started to tell you about how bad the sequel was." He led the creature to a small bank of slightly less soggy dirt underneath a grove of mangrove trees. He knew the place would be swarming with snakes, but no more than the viscous sludge they had been trodding through. He stepped onto the higher bank and went to lift the creature following him, although he wasn't fast enough for the cow to take advantage of the momentary height difference by nuzzling up against his fuzzy sack.

"One track mind, lady, Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered as he helped her up on the bank. "Like, there's a person inside this bull monster, okay? Am I just a walking dick to you? After all we've been through together?" He was trying to play off the all-too-frequent advances, more for his own reassurance than to chastise the cow thing. "You need a hobby or something. Something other than going after my dick. Maybe crocheting? Wait, sorry, that might sound a little sexist. You seem like more of a motorcycle enthusiast anyway. I can see that being something you'd enjoy."

"Moo," the cow responded, and Ben couldn't help but laugh.

"You're okay, lady." He pat the creature on the top of her head, and the coo of delight it gave in response was a pleasant sound. "Good head on your shoulders. I'm gonna stick with you for a while, see if we can't come up with a good business idea or something. Maybe open up an ice cream parlor. Are those still a thing? We can corner the market here. Big lack of ice cream parlors in swamps these days." Ben turned away, looking for the driest spot in the center of what he was afraid would be their sleeping arrangements. He wanted to keep the cow creature as far away from the snakes and alligators as possible, though that was certainly easier said than done with the way it--

"Where?"

Ben spun around and grabbed the cow creature, throwing the both of them to the ground immediately after he had heard the word. He did his best to scan through the tall grass around them while staying out of sight as much as they could. The cow, to its credit, actually kept silent for a moment, likely wondering what it was exactly its companion was doing.

Ben had heard it. He knew he had. It was the only spoken word he had heard since he had heard that racist fuckwit screaming obscenities at them as they left his driveway. It hadn't come from him, and it certainly hadn't come from the cow creature, so where the fuck had it come from?

After five minutes of remaining quiet with the cow content to once again graze, Ben slowly rose up and looked around for any sign of their pursuers. There was nothing. The only movement was that of a large snapping turtle sliding into the oily black water.

Was it an owl? Did they say "where?" No, that was, "who." Right? Or was he losing it even more than he thought?

Ben sat down on a termite-infested log, staring at the strange creature he had become a caretaker to against his own better judgment. It would've been wrong to leave her there. She didn't deserve that.

Ben immediately realized that he was thinking of the cow thing as a person again, a "she" rather than an "it." He had just been more comfortable thinking of her as an animal. It was much easier than imagining the horror she had just gone through. But it wasn't fair to her.

He had been hesitant to do what he was about to do. It would probably be better not to know. He tapped himself on his broad chest. "Bentram. Ben-tram. Ben." He waited for any sign of intelligence, even the barest spark of recognition. The creature just smiled, bits of green drool dripping from its thick lips as it happily continued munching away. He pointed at her chest, trying his best to keep his mind off of how he very much wanted to suck one of her eight nipples into his mouth. "You are ...?"

Nothing. There was simply nothing.

He nodded resignedly. "I'm ..." He cleared his throat, then looked at the cow. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. You didn't deserve it. No one does, but you seemed like a nice person before all of this happened. I just needed to say I'm sorry. I don't know why I needed to say it, but I did." He looked away from her. It was either that or slip into the deep bout of depression he was doing his best to put off as long as possible. "Okay. You need a name. People have names, and you're still a people. Right?" The cow turned to look at him, its common inquiry of "moo" her only response. "Can't keep calling you 'cow' or 'it' or 'thing that eats and shits when she should be running the fuck away.'" It occurred to him that she obviously already had a name, or at least she had one last night before her life was completely ruined. "How about ... Sarah?"

The cow blinked and chewed.

"Nah, you're right, that's shit. 'Sarah the Cow' doesn't have a ring to it. Julia? That's a rich woman name, right?"

The cow blinked and chewed.

"You're right. That's like naming you Ivanka or something. Nobody deserves that shit. Howwww abooooout ..." Suddenly he had it. "Molly! That's a good one! Like the cartoon cow lady? 'Molly Moomaw says happy cows make happy milk' or whatever the fuck that old commercial jingle was. How about it? Sound good, Miss Molly?"

The "moo" this time seemed much more upbeat, which Ben took less as a sign that she approved and more that she enjoyed the happy tone in his voice. She slowly stood and moved towards him, although she almost immediately slipped and he had to leap to catch her, the momentum soon sending them crashing back down to the dirty log. Ben couldn't help but laugh, although he stopped when she leaned in closer to him and began licking his chest. "Okay, no, none of that now." However, instead of going between his legs, she simply nuzzled her face into his broad chest, hugged him tightly, and promptly fell asleep. Ben felt a little disappointed that she wasn't trying to cuddle up to another part of his body, though he felt bad about momentarily wanting that.

The bull person held the cow--Molly, he told himself, her name is Molly now--tightly, happy to feel some sort of simple affection given the upheaval his life had just gone through. He listened again for any sound that would indicate there was anyone else nearby other than Molly and himself. After some time he concluded that he was now alone with the snoring cow woman and his own thoughts.

The latter of the two were the more problematic. This was the first time Ben had really gotten the opportunity to take stock of himself. He examined his hands, strange feral things that resembled hooves as much as they did something a human should possess. He knew he was still far better off than Molly in that regard as he watched her simple hooves twitch in her sleep. He held her with one arm but lifted the other to take stock of it, his eyes widening at just how many dozens of pounds of muscles the arm now possessed, shifting like tempered steel just underneath a few layers of fat and rich brown fur. He lifted his left leg a bit, examining the similar strength found there, although the movement caused Molly to grumble a bit in her sleep. She shifted slightly, her leg sliding against his sweaty thighs as she snuggled closer.

The smell she was giving off was inescapable now. It was the unpleasant smell of livestock, yes, but mixed with a tangy scent of sweat and sex. He found himself stirring again, but tried to think about anything other than the needy female laying on top of him. It wasn't right. It would be taking advantage of her, and he knew that as soon as he gave in he wouldn't be able to stop. He wasn't a mindless animal, laying with another mindless animal in the middle of the wilds. He had a future in information technology, he had a family that loved him, he had friends and classmates and coworkers and he wasn't an animal and--

He was weeping before he realized it. He was sobbing in a way he hadn't since his dog died. It was a deep, pitiful noise, tears running down his snout in twin rivulets. He was sobbing for the life he'd lost, for the work he'd never be able to do, for the friends he'd never again be able to see. He was also sobbing for the creature laying next to him, this poor wretch that had her mind taken from her along with everything else.

Ben felt her stirring, her sleep interrupted as his large chest shook as he wept. It wasn't until just then that he noticed the deep cuts and bruises on her legs and arms, exact mirrors of the ones that he also bore on his extremities. The bastard must have started kicking her after he had passed out. Ben was afraid she'd crawl on top of him, but instead she just looked into his eyes. For a moment there seemed to be some flicker of recognition, as if some part of her understood what had happened to them. She clung to him harder, which only made him cry harder. Eventually he felt a wetness on his chest as he realized that Molly was sobbing along with him. He was surprised to hear her cry. He was surprised she still could.

Bentram and the creature not named Molly sat alone in a fetid marsh, sobbing as if they were human beings until they fell asleep amidst the snakes, the bugs, and the alligators in the middle of the unsympathetic swamp.

The manner in which Ben awoke was much better than the last two times. Instead of being turned into a monster or waking in a cramped cell, he came to in a horrible marshland, the hot sun streaming through the mangrove trees as he and his companion were assaulted by large biting flies. This in itself wasn't that much of an upgrade over his last unfortunate bouts with the overrated concept of consciousness, but there was another reason why it was much more enjoyable.

Ben felt a wet tendril caressing the skin between his large balls and his inner thigh, a slathering sensation that had him groaning in pleasure until it occurred to him that his crotch might be serving as a resting place for some small serpent. His eyes snapped open in momentary terror, only for him to be greeted by the site of two puffy labia, pressed together tightly, with the thick hood of a hidden clitoris enveloped by wet, rubbery triangular flesh. He was assaulted by a sweaty, earthy fragrance that was simultaneously the worst and most amazing thing he'd ever smelled. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, his own large tongue slithered past his lips and tasted it, the cow creature on top of him squealing in delight as he finally paid attention to her body.

His large, three-fingered hands wrapped around her plump ass, pulling her closer in order to slip his tongue deeper, even as the lips of her swollen cow cunt opened slightly to allow himself more access. He was hard, harder than he could ever remember himself being. He couldn't see past the ass, legs, udder, and cunt of the monster on top of him, but he could feel her tongue traveling from the base of his red cock to the strangely pointed tip, trailing back and forth until she reached the start again and lovingly caressed his swollen balls with her face. She shifted just slightly, enough to look back at him with a happy, mindless grin on her face, her thick tongue slipping past her lips as she drooled and bellowed like an animal.

Despite the pleasure radiating through his body and the wonderful taste of her wetness upon his tongue, he couldn't help feeling guilty. This wasn't right, and he knew it. "Hey, come on, we need to stop this. Okay? Come on, please stop, um ..." For a moment he couldn't remember the name he had given her. "Molly! Molly, please stop, okay? Let's just--oh my God yes." Any stupid semblance of nobility was forgotten as she sped up her efforts. He was far too gone now to stop, especially as she took his cock into her snout and began bobbing on it eagerly, her thick tongue wrapping around it inside of her maw. He shivered and returned the favor, folding his tongue around her large clit as he thrust himself deep in her throat. It didn't take long at all for him to cum, and he released his hold on his mate's backside as he roared, bellowed, and screamed uncontrollably. She gave a happy little squeal with her mouth still wrapped around him, swallowing every last drop and continued licking his rod, cleaning it as it slowly retreated back into his sheath. The clear liquid dripping from her pussy told him she had experienced her own orgasm, although the way she kept shifting her legs told him that she felt it should be the first of many. He was about to return to her slit before she slid off of him, again nuzzling cutely at his genitals before crawling up and laying atop him, resting her head on his chest with a contented sound, half a moo and half a sigh, her breath smelling of cum and grass.

Bentram lay in the afterglow, relishing the release as much as he felt guilty over the act. He certainly wasn't opposed to sex, especially given that neither one of them were likely to be alive for very much longer. He wasn't even opposed to fucking the strange cow woman. She was certainly attractive to him, and it was likely they were the only two of their kind in the world. The problem was that he was taking advantage of a woman in a barely lucid state, something he knew his friends back in high school made a habit of doing every Saturday night. He was supposed to be better than this.

"You can't do that okay?" he finally said. "It's not right, you being in this condition and all. My mom raised me better than that." He shook her playfully. "It's all your fault, really. You obviously seduced me with your feminine wiles and honeyed words. I'm a poor innocent victim in this, you ... cow Jezebel. Maybe should've called you that. Would you have liked that name better?"

She mooed in response. He expected as much.

"Fuck, how long were we out? It's way past dawn and--FUCK! A sharp sensation suddenly assaulted his lower back and ass. He raised off the ground, gently helping her off of him and feeling around his backside, his tail swishing in alarm. He had trouble seeing behind him, but noticed something wriggling on his companion's lower legs that confirmed his suspicions. "Are you fucking kidding me? Hold still." Ben pulled a few leeches off of Molly. He expected her to flinch in pain, but she barely seemed to pay attention to what he was doing. When she finally noticed one of the tiny wriggling horrors she leaned forward to sniff at it, and Ben had to pull it away as she stuck out her tongue to inspect it further.

"No, let's not eat the parasites. That seems like a bad idea." He turned her around, pulling a few more of the horrid things off of her back, wincing as she attempted to back up and rub her ass into his crotch. "Do you have an off button? Seriously, lady." Once he was satisfied he had gotten all of them, he tried to pick the ones off of himself as well as he could. After pulling off a half dozen of them he felt he had gotten them all, but this didn't keep him from nervously checking whenever he felt the slightest itch. Molly happily grazed during this ordeal.

Ben helped her back to her feet when he was finished, laughing resignedly when she hugged him tightly as if she had forgotten he was standing there. He reached for her hand, hoping to resume leading her further into the swamp in what he still hoped was the opposite direction as the road. However, when he reached for her, something altogether strange occurred.

The first indication he had that something was wrong was the screech of pure terror that escaped the mouth of the normally carefree cow lady. She recoiled, her ears folded horizontally as she circled her arms in an effort to maintain her balance before crashing onto the ground. Ben quickly looked behind them in the direction she had been staring, expecting to see Russel and his cohort drawing aim on them even now. Instead the only movement was from a few waterfowl who had been disturbed by the noise the strange cow monster had just made.

"I don't see anything. Fuck, I don't see anything. What--?" Ben looked back at Molly, whose expression of sheer horror still remained. It took Ben a moment before he realized she wasn't looking at something behind him; she was looking at him. Her lip was trembling as if she was trying to say something, but just as she inhaled for another scream her countenance again shifted to docile, stupid glee as she held both of her arms out as if she wanted another hug.

"What in the fuck, lady?" Ben helped her up again, relieved she was apparently no longer afraid, although a strange look still lingered in her eyes for a few seconds that made him question what was going on in her mind. Eventually she seemed content to resume grazing and didn't resist this time when Ben gently took her hoof and led her further into the swamp, disturbing questions running rapidly through his mind.

The rest of their journey that day was relatively quiet. Their obstacles were less from mental trauma and more from the abundance of biting horseflies. One rather large alligator had made its presence known for one terrifying moment before deciding that the pair of them were evidently larger than the ensuing struggle would've been worth. Turning into a large, freakish plains-dwelling mammal had a few advantages.

Ben had been looking for another suitable place to rest for the night, although his judgment was certainly becoming increasingly clouded by the hunger pangs he was experiencing more and more every hour. He had followed Molly's lead in grabbing occasional handfuls of leaves and munching on them as they trudged along, but they did little to assuage his hunger. Regurgitating cud was about as unpleasant a sensation as he anticipated. He wasn't sure exactly what type of leaves he was eating, but they hadn't seemed to bother Molly so he assumed they could digest almost anything green. But cows ate almost constantly, and without being able to stop for any extended amount of time to eat their fill they were both starving by the end of their second day after escaping.

The only stroke of luck the pair had found made itself known as the swampland gradually receded, the soil leading upwards inch by inch until they were standing on more or less solid ground. As they crest a small hill, they were greeted by the site of a tiny abandoned home, its roof half collapsed and its walls beginning to cave in under their own waterlogged weight. It didn't seem like a particularly stable accommodation for the night, but there was a nearby storm cellar that Ben hoped wouldn't be as disgusting inside as he feared. He poked his head through the rotten door and found that aside from some accumulated water near the moldy door frame itself, the ground was relatively dry and bereft of biting reptiles.

"Holy shit, Molly," he whispered. "We hit the jackpot. Finest hotel I've ever stayed in. Five star fucking accommodations. King size bed, flat screen TV, walk in shower--you could sure use one of those." The last sentence was mumbled under his breath, despite knowing she couldn't understand him. "Even got some of those little mints that taste surprisingly shitty given the price of the stay laying on the pillow. Really rolled out the red carpet for us, huh?" He turned around and found that the cow was already grazing. He couldn't blame her, they were both famished.

Ben let her continue to graze as he began to gather up handfuls of tall weeds that he hoped they'd find edible. It would be the easiest way to get her inside for any extended period of time. Despite the approaching night there was enough light that he could see storm clouds approaching quickly. He was fairly certain that cows--actual cows--got easily startled during bad weather, and he hoped this would keep her distracted until it passed.

After he had tossed the grass inside, he was momentarily startled when he couldn't find her, but was soon laughing when he noticed she had not only already entered the cellar but had apparently fallen asleep in mid chew. Ben stepped inside and closed the door, holding it shut with a large rock he had found before slumping to the ground next to her. It wasn't until he was sitting down that he realized just how tired he was. There was an ache in his legs and lower back and his eyes were already drooping. He forced himself to stay awake, both to eat something but also because he wanted to wait until nightfall before falling asleep. Russel and--Bob? Blake? He couldn't remember--were more likely to give up the search at night. They were still looking for them. He knew it. They had to be.

The grass tasted as bland as he'd predicted, and he had to flick more than a few bugs from the roots before he placed the stringy plants in his mouth. He once again experienced the joys of vomiting the food back into his mouth and having to chew it all over again. The cud taste wasn't quite as bad as the times he had paid the price for too many Fireball shots, but it was still extremely unpleasant.

It was dark by then and he slid closer to Molly, laying down between her and the cinder block wall to stay warm. Her scent was much stronger this close and in this enclosed area and he felt a stirring inside his sheath that he shifted to try to keep from disturbing her. His scent must have had the same effect on the sleeping creature as her teats stiffened and an enticing wet smell began to fill the shelter. He tried to get his mind off of it, but soon enough the problem no longer persisted as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

He awoke to chaos. Again. Mooing, lowing mournfully, and full-fledged good old fashioned human screaming. He sat up quickly, accidentally bumping the curved part of one of his horns into the cow, which only heightened her distress. He held his hands out to try to soothe her, but this had the exact opposite effect. She stared at his large hands as if he were going to use them against her. He tried a tactic he'd always heard was helpful to calm dogs, sliding away and trying to make himself seem smaller while whispering soothingly, "It's okay. Hey, it's okay. What's wrong? It's okay."

And then Ben heard a rumble in the distance that proved his words completely wrong. It wasn't the sound of thunder. The storm must have passed, though a soft drizzle could still be heard outside the door. It was the sound of a vehicle. It was most definitely not okay.

"Oh shit, you fucking, fucking idiot," he hissed to himself. They were next to an abandoned house. Abandoned houses were by definition once non-abandoned houses. And non-abandoned houses needed roads leading to them. He should've realized they'd be likely to check here. Of course they would. He shouldn't have stopped here for the night. They were safer with the alligators. They were going to be found.

Molly continued mooing and screaming, her terrified eyes filled with more emotion than he had ever seen them hold since she had endured the horrible change. Ben hated what he was about to do, but he saw no other way to get her to quiet down. He quickly slid close to her, holding her tightly and pressing his hand over her mouth. She was strong, far stronger than any human being, but he was stronger still. "It's okay, but you need to be quiet now. Please, please be quiet." But she wasn't going to be. She continued to struggle and began sobbing fitfully. Why was it she was mindlessly adoring him one minute and horrified by him the next?

Ben heard two car doors open and close loudly. The sound filled him with more dread than he had ever felt in his life. He heard the unmistakable roar of Russel's voice and the quiet acquiescence of his companion's. Maybe they would only check the house. Maybe they wouldn't even see the cellar. But if Molly kept crying they'd come bursting through the door any second now. She was quieter for the moment, but he knew it wasn't going to last.

Ben's eyes slowly turned away, not towards the door but to the stone holding it closed.

She's not there anymore, he told himself. She's not even an animal anymore. You can't help her like this. No one can.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the rock, thankful that she wasn't struggling as much at the moment. He lifted the stone in his strange hoof-hands, testing its weight. It was light to him, but heavy enough for what he was about to do. He brought the stone closer and with his other hand he forced her eyes closed.

"Moo?" she asked, and for a moment he was afraid she knew what he was going to do. It was better this way. It was better this way.

"Shh, baby girl. It's okay. Just keep your eyes closed. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."

It was better this way. He gripped the rock tightly and took a deep breath. It was better this way. It was better this way.

Ben left the shelter and stepped into the cold rain. Still shaking, he tried to slip as far away from the van as possible. He made it perhaps fifteen feet before he heard the loud crack of gunfire and felt an unbearable pain in his shoulder that sent him collapsing to the wet ground. It had all been for nothing then. This sodden patch of forgotten earth was where he was going to die.

He forced himself to his knees, one hand pressed into his bleeding shoulder. Russel was standing above him before he had even forced himself upright. He leveled a shotgun at his head, finger on the trigger, but something made him hesitate, and Ben's world hesitated along with him. He wasn't staring at Russel, but at the bloody stone in his other hand.

"Yours or hers?" Russel asked.

Ben knew immediately what he meant. "Hers." His face was emotionless. He wouldn't let him get any sort of read off of him.

Russel suddenly seemed almost sympathetic, like he had found a new type of respect for his quarry, or at least for what he had done. "Fuckin' A, kid. That's cold."

Ben nodded. Cold was a good word for it. "It had to be done. She was being loud. Thought I could get away before you heard her screaming. Didn't think it would work, but it was the only chance I had."

Russel nodded. "I reckon so. Still. Cold."

Tears were falling from the bull person's eyes. "She wasn't even in there anymore. Not even a person. She was gone."

Russel lowered the gun. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, kid. How did you get her out of the cell?"

"It was open." Ben laughed loudly, intentionally making the sound more exaggerated than necessary to try to get a rise out of his tormentor. "You two left the door open. You really aren't very good at the whole kidnapping thing." He purposefully made eye contact. If this was going to be the last thing he ever said, he was going to make sure to get his point across. "You sad, sister-fucking national embarrassment. Go fuck yourself. With both fists."

A look of anger passed the man's face, but it didn't seem directed at Ben. "Hey! Fucknuts. Get over here."

The other man, Blake, stepped closer. "Look man, just do it and let's get out of here. We have more of the shit. A whole bucket of it. We can do this again. Just use this as a trial run, a learning exper--"

"Shut the fuck up and get over here." Blake moved closer still until he was standing alongside Russel. The trained murderer held his shotgun in one hand and pulled his sidearm with the other, holding it to the side in Blake's direction. "You do it."

Blake shook his head. "I've never fired one of those, dude. I'd fuck it up. Just do it and let's--"

"This is YOUR FUCK UP!" Russel yelled. "You didn't lock the fucking door, you get to do the fucking honors!" In truth, the mistake was made by both of them, but Russel seemed like the type of person who made it a habit of shifting his share of the blame on any convenient target.

Blake sighed and took the firearm. "Whatever, man. Fine." He stepped closer to Ben, leveling the gun at the bull-man's forehead while still keeping out of his considerable reach. "Sorry," he whispered.

"The skull is going to be thicker," Russel informed him. "Thicker than a human's. Pull the trigger a few times."

"Yeah. Okay."

There was a loud bang that took away Ben's hearing. There was a flash of light that illuminated the dreary Everglade night for one heartbeat. There was the smell of burning gunpowder. And then the night air was filled with blood. With bits of hair. With hard white bone. With viscera and brain matter.

None of it was Ben's.

Just before the shot was fired, Blake's aim was disrupted by two ... spears? They looked sort of like spears? Two spears impaling his torso. He had enough time to look down in surprise before he simply ... wasn't there. Where a person once stood, a cascade of red remained for just a moment as the spears pulled him in opposite directions, tearing him into three distinct pieces of flesh and guts and bone and feces.

Russel had enough time to turn around, his eyes staring up in a horror that left Ben feeling very satisfied. He inhaled to say something even as Ben smelled the warm stench of urine soaking into his camo pants. Then he was suddenly no longer standing on the soggy ground, but was instead being suspended upside down from one leg by what looked vaguely like some sort of large serpent. Another wriggling mass emerged from the darkness, tearing the dangling leg off and throwing it to the side before wrapping around his waist and repeating the motion for the other leg. A gurgling sound left his throat as he was simply tossed aside like garbage.

Ben's mind had not deciphered what was happening. The past days' events had devolved from mere insanity to a world in which logic no longer had any place. Something moved in the darkness, something so massive it made Ben's giant frame look tiny. Above the sound of the gentle rain came a slithering noise, something wet and large moving closer without the use of legs, a primordial sound signifying impending death. Soon it was close enough to see its vague outline, though the mist and haze left him unable to make out any details. Ben felt a scream coming upon him, but his mind hadn't gotten that far along yet.

It spoke. It spoke with a voice like something out of a child's nightmare, a specific one laughed about as silly as the child became an adult, although a shade of the fear would never fully disappear at the remembrance of it. "I killed him," it hissed. "I've never actually killed anyone before." Its breath smelled of carrion.

Another voice came from behind Ben, this one much more ordinary. It sounded like the voice of someone you'd meet at a grocery store or a gas station, some place where reality remained in existence and the rules of the universe were still at play. "I'm sorry, baby. You didn't have a choice."

Ben got the impression that the creature was shaking its head. Its mouth reminded him of the alligator they had witnessed a few hours ago. "No, it's okay. Just thought I'd feel something more." It looked down at Ben.

"Sorry," Ben whispered. It was a dumb thing to say but it was the first thing that occurred to him. He wasn't sure if he was addressing the living nightmare or asking forgiveness from whatever childlike god had put him into this position.

"Would it be wrong to eat him?" The monster was addressing the other figure, and Ben hoped it was talking about the mangled corpse and not himself. "I'm pretty hungry. Seems a waste to just leave him. Would that be wrong?"

The figure had been walking as if searching for something, but his footsteps stopped as if considering what the creature had said. From the sound of his footsteps, this one seemed like a normal human being, like two feet shuffling across the soggy ground on wet sneakers. "Yyyyyyes, dear. That would be wrong. Let's not do that, okay? That would be cannibalism."

"You're cannibalism!" the monster whined playfully, a practiced jest that seemed commonplace between these two.

"I have no idea what is going on," Ben whispered. "I have really, really no idea what is fucking going on."

"Hold that thought," said the creature before turning to the man. "Hun, see if they have ice cream sandwiches in their van."

The man's foot hovered in the air as he paused midstride. "Why would they have ice cream sandwiches in their van?"

"If I had a van, I'd have ice cream sandwiches in it," answered the horror.

"I ... I--Okay, yeah. I'll check." It seemed easier to just agree to its demands than to ask rational questions.

"Good boy." The thing nodded and finally slithered closer. Ben became an atheist in that moment. There was no describing the monster. It was like something out of Dante, something that munched on the shattered skull of its victim while frozen in a lake of traitors. It was a lion, a horse, an alligator, an eagle, a nightmare. As fear inspiring as it was ridiculous to look upon. It waved a large paw in Ben's direction, five dagger-like claws unsheathing for just a moment before retracting. "Hi. I'm Candice. And that's my husband, Mark. He's busy looking for ice cream sandwiches. It's okay, he's a Chad. Kids still say that right? Cool people are Chads?"

"I don't believe in Chads anymore," answered the man the creature had called Mark. "Not after seeing someone torn into little bits. From now on I'm officially Chadnostic."

"Grumpy," the creature muttered before addressing Ben. "You must be--"

The scream finally arrived. The creature covered its ears and waited patiently for Ben to run out of air, a bored look on her face as if she had likely caused this reaction more than a few times. When Ben's scream was downgraded to simple hyperventilation she continued. "Jesus, kid. They always scream. They always fucking scream. Hurts my ears. Yes, I'm very strange. Are you finished?"

"Everything okay?" the man, Mark, asked the monster, whose human name of Candice seemed just as out of place as its own existence.

"Yeah, just the usual," replied the creature. It pointed in the voice's direction with a large tentacle. "But you shush, you've got a job to do." She addressed Ben. "Got it out of your system?"

Ben nodded. He was lying. He most assuredly did not have it out of his system.

"Good. Oh! And we're not going to kill you. Probably should have said that before now. Sorry. You ready to go? I hope you and your friend don't get airsick. Where is she anyway?" She looked at the shredded remains of Blake. "Holy sheesh, I killed the heck out of you, sir. But you guys deserved it. After all, your buddy was wearing a cowboy hat. No one should wear a cowboy hat. I mean, unless they're a cowboy. Or a male stripper." It seemed to smile conspiratorially, a large tongue drooping past its lips. "Heyyyyy, Mark? Would you ever consider wearing--"

"No," came the response from the back of the van.

"He never lets me have any fun. Seriously though, we should go before the cops get here. We have an arrangement with the feds, but not the backwoods Deliverance type-cops. Normally, they leave us alone and I don't go on Maury and tell them how they turned me into a phylum." It paused. "Wait, did you get that reference?"

"Phylum?" Ben asked. "L-L-Like a class of animals or something?"

The monster actually giggled, and what little moonlight that made it through the clouds glinted off an impossible amount of sharp teeth.. "No no ... I mean, well, yes, that's what a phylum is. Sort of. You're a smart kid! I thought they didn't allow science in Florida anymore. I meant do kids know who Maury is anymore?"

Ben wasn't sure if she was talking to try to keep him calm or stalling for some reason. He had a feeling it wasn't to give this Mark person time to find ice cream sandwiches. "Y-Yeah, the video game plumber guy, right?"

The creature blinked, and it was only then that Ben realized it had eight separate eyes. "No," it said sadly, as if mourning the death of a dear friend. "Not the video game plumber guy. Christ, I'm getting old. All of my cultural references are useless now. The 20s have taken everything from me. Mark, did you find the other one yet? Or at least did you find the sandwi--"

For the second time that night, Ben heard the deafening crack of a gun being fired. Candice's chest exploded, shreds of blood and fur chewed away in an instant. She seemed only mildly annoyed as the flesh knit itself back together before the discarded bits of muscle hit the ground, tiny shotgun pellets following their descent as they sled from its slimy skin one by one. "Fuck! Right in the tit! What the--"

Ben looked behind him. Russel was still alive somehow, fighting through the shock of dismemberment just long enough to cause what little misery he still could before a grateful world would be rid of him. The man seemed to recognize that firing at the monster did no good, and so he instead pointed the gun at Ben for a moment before pointing it at Mark, who had run to the rest of the group to see what was happening.

Candice screamed "No!" Her voice was no longer feral, far more human, seemingly filled with the sound of unmistakable horror and sadness as the life of a loved one may suddenly be about to draw to an end.

Russel didn't fire. He wasn't able to. Before any of them realized what was happening, another figure was atop him, pummeling him relentlessly with cloven hooves so hard that bits of his face were starting to come loose. He screamed, crying out in pain, the words "please" and "stop" repeated over and over again. Soon he was no longer able to do even that, his voice reduced to a wet gurgle as blood filled his lungs and his face started to cave in. Molly continued to assault him. Over and over she struck, until a sickening crunch signified the man's skull had cracked. This only seemed to encourage her as she hammered what little remained of his brains, his eyes, his sinuses until she was punching what resembled less like a human face and more like a burst can of tomato soup with bits of teeth in it.

When she had finished, Molly stood, her pretty holstein fur pattern now bearing as many crimson splotches as black. She was out of breath, her eyes glancing back and forth between Ben and the Candice creature, the latter of which whispered out an appropriate, "Holy shit."

"Where?" Molly asked. "What? What is--?"

She was speaking. She was confused. But she was speaking.

The chimera yelled to her partner, sadness and terror still in her voice. "Mark, love, you okay?"

"Are YOU?!" replied the only normal living human now present. "You just took a shotgun to the chest!"

She sighed in relief, then nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, no biggie. Oh my god, did you see the way the pellets fell out?! That was some Terminator 2 shit, baby!"

Mark gave a frustrated groan that got louder the longer it went on. "Can we PLEASE get out of this FUCKING swamp?"

Molly was walking backwards, her eyes darting from the carcass she had just created over to Ben then to Candice. If she was alarmed before, the sight of the large chimeric creature had her shaking now. "What's going on? What the fuck is going on?"

Candice held her paws up in a disarming gesture. "It's okay, it's okay. You're Camilla, right? We were sent to help you guys. Everything is going to be fine."

Camilla? Camilla. It was a pretty name, Ben thought. Much nicer than Molly.

Camilla backed away slowly, only coming to a stop when she bumped into the side of the storm shelter she had emerged from. Ben started to get up to walk towards her before the pain in his shoulder forced him back to the ground.

Candice put a paw on his back. It was warm and more than a little slimy. "Let Mark go to her. He's better at calming people than you'd think. And he's the only normal looking one." Here she looked down at what remained of Russel, his cowboy hat now tattered, his brains sloughing out of it into the wet ground. "And I think she's had enough of dealing with monsters for a while."

Ben nodded, the motion causing his head to swim as pink spots appeared in his vision. He slumped to the ground. This wasn't what he expected when he left her alone in the shelter. He wanted to lead them away from her, but everything worked out in the end anyway. And then he was unconscious.

Ben awoke, and once again his surroundings seemed a bit nicer. The first thought he had was that his shoulder hurt immensely. The second was that the room smelled terrible, like his old high school locker room. He slowly opened his eyes. He was lying in a hospital bed, an IV plugged into his arm. The wound had been patched. His head was groggy, like he was coming out of an anesthesia-driven hangover. There was a pig sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, patiently waiting for him to awaken.

Of course there is, he thought. Why wouldn't there be?

She was dressed in a very large Led Zeppelin t-shirt and a simple pair of sweatpants. Her arms were covered in thick black hair and ended in hooves that looked about as dexterous as that of a regular barnyard animal. She pulled off a pair of large headphones as she noticed him waking. "Howdy!" she said, in a decidedly non-Southern accent. "Welcome back to consciousness. It's a mixed bag, but better than the alternative usually. Want some water?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you." The fact that he was in the room with a half-pig woman didn't even register as strange to him at this point. He slowly began to sit.

"Wait wait! The IV! Let our doctor get that out of you before you do that, okay? Haley?"

A tall donkey creature walked into the room wearing a lab coat. She was practically bouncing from hoof to hoof, seemingly very excited about something. Ben supposed that the next to enter the room would be a goat person. Or a sheep. Perhaps an aardvark. The donkey lady walked closer, whispering "Ohmigod ohmidgod ohmifuckingod." She didn't seem to be addressing Ben at all as she pulled the IV from his arm and bandaged the entry point. Ben winced at the sharp pain. Her bedside manner could be better.

She took notice of the wince. "Sorry! Just still really amped. I've never worked on a bullet wound before! I pulled a bullet out! Of your shoulder! With my tweezers!" She checked her pocket, but said tweezers were no longer present. "I pulled the bullet out with my fucking tweezers!" She went from practically bouncing in place to literally bouncing in place. "I'm too amped! I need to work off some energy or something. Happy you're feeling okay!" She spun on her hooves, nearly toppling over before the pig woman steadied her. She quickly walked out into the hallway, her voice echoing "With my tweezers!" as she left the room.

The pig woman was shaking her head. "Annnnnd she's gone. Sorry. I'm Josie, by the way." She handed Ben a bottle of water using both hooves before she reached over and gently pressed a cloven hoof into Ben's bandaged shoulder. "Does it hurt?"

Ben shook his head. Now that the pig woman--Josie--was closer, he could tell the stench was coming from her. It was a heady smell like Molly gave off, but definitely more unpleasant. "It's okay. A little. Wait, where's Molly? Is she okay?"

Josie cocked her head to the side, her ears flopping a little at the motion. "Molly?"

"Oh. Right. Not Molly, I guess. It was just something I called her. I didn't know her name. Um ...?"

The pig smiled. Her teeth were a dirty, faded yellow, but the smile itself displayed genuine happiness. "Ohhhh. Camilla! She's fine. She's in the other room, going through some preliminary physical therapy. Her hands are kinda gone now, like these things." She held her hoof up. "They make it so that Haley always gets to use the remote for the blu-ray player. Which sucks a level of ass I'm not capable of putting into perspective for you right now. But your friend has more mobility than I do, and I get around okay. She is working with our therapist to see about learning to use them a bit more, and to get around easier. But it's looking good so far." She took a step back, crossing her hooves over her waist. The motion pressed several pairs of breasts together under her shirt. "She's been asking about you. Wanted to see you as soon as you were awake."

Ben blinked. "Asked? She ... asked? She's ... y'know, all there now?" he asked hopefully.

"No lasting cognitive decline. Markeesha ran her through some mental exercises before the physical stuff. She's all there, and she's a very bright woman. Way better memory than ..." She looked over her shoulder conspiratorially in the direction the donkey had walked. "Um, some of us."

Suddenly it was hard for Ben to catch his breath. There was a great sense of relief at hearing that news. He barely knew Molly--Camilla--but they had been through a hell of a lot together. He'd never forget the sheer horror at watching her slowly lose her mind like that. "That's great," he said. "But, I mean, how? What made it come back?"

"No idea," Josie answered. "It just kinda happened. None of this makes sense." She held her hands aloft as if to draw attention to herself. "I mean, like, NONE of it. I'm a pig for fuck's sake. I used to work at K-Mart. Pardon my French."

Ben started to laugh, but the motion caused his shoulder to hurt. He tossed a blanket aside and pushed himself slowly to his feet. Bits of mud and grass were still stuck to his body, particularly below the knees. "Yeah, I'd like to see her. If that's okay."

Josie's eyes were wide, homing in on the swinging thing between Ben's legs. She was blushing and the smell became a bit worse. "You ... mmmmmight want to put something on first? This is a family-friendly establishment. Sort of."

"Shit," Ben mumbled. "Sorry. Fuck, really sorry." He tried to cover himself up. It was a useless gesture.

Josie cleared her throat, slowly and reluctantly looking away from his package before motioning towards some folded clothing on a nearby table. "There's uh ... Hoo boy, look at you ... There's a kilt on the table there. I'll just wait outside."

"A kilt?" Ben wasn't sure he had heard her correctly.

Josie nodded. "Yeah. It's not uncommon for newly transformed people to show up here with no clothes, or certainly not any that still fit. We've found that usually women are fine with dresses, but guys with ... um ... accentuated ... equipment ... are usually happier with kilts." A single drop of sweat was sliding down her neck.

A thunderous voice echoed down the hallway in the direction the donkey had gone. "And kilts are fucking cool!" The donkey--Haley?--passed by, now wearing jogging shorts, a runner's top, and even an old 80s-era sweatband. She paused just long enough to peek into the room and also stare at his junk. "Oh, nice cock, bro." Her casual bluntness was the polar opposite to Josie's embarrassment. "Oh, and the therapist, Markeesha, is also a cow. And my girlfriend. So no funny ideas about her or I'll fucking castrate you. I hear they do that to bulls. It'd be the Christian thing to do. Bye!" She was gone as quickly as she arrived.

Ben stepped into the kilt and pulled it up to his waist. He was happy it fastened with velcro, as he was fairly sure his fingers would be too large to fasten any buttons. "Is she, uh?"

"Insane?" finished Josie. "Absolutely. Don't ask her about the popcorn incident." She slowly turned back around, a mild look of disappointment written on her face when she saw he was now clothed. "We don't really have any shirts that'll fit you. I figured you wouldn't mind? You're a big dude. In all the ways that count." She mumbled the last part.

Ben took a step, then another, testing his legs slowly as blood started to course in them. "No problem. Um, should we ...?"

Josie stepped to the side, holding her arm out towards the door. "After you. Right at the end of the hallway."

Ben thanked her and stepped past, wincing at the smell he felt certain the poor girl couldn't do anything about. To the right was a door leading outside that was just now closing, the silhouette of the donkey thing already fading into the distance. To the left was a larger room with a window in the door. Ben peaked inside and saw Camilla sitting across the room from another cow creature, clothed in a simple brown dress and blessed with an embarrassment of riches that made Camilla seem flat-chested. Camilla herself was looking much nicer than Ben had ever seen her. Her fur was shiny and clean, and she wore a simple blue floral pattern dress. There was a look in her eyes that hinted she was thinking about something other than food and fucking.

Josie passed him, and again he smelled the sour odor. "I'll let her know you're up. I think she'll probably want to talk to you in private." Josie stepped through the door, closing it behind her to talk to Camilla without Ben overhearing them.

Something about how the pig woman had said "in private" seemed very ominous, like it was going to be a conversation that no one else was going to want to hear. "Ah shit," Ben whispered. If she remembered everything, then she certainly remembered a certain event that happened in the swamp. She probably wanted to repeat the pummeling she had given Russel.

Through the window Ben saw Camilla stand up, moving to the door and hesitating. She began jiggling the doorframe, trying to open it. Ben could hear the larger cow, Markeesha, offer to assist her, but Camilla shook her head. "Let me do it," she said.

She eventually got the door opened, smiling in triumph at the once simple task. Her smile died immediately upon seeing Ben standing at the end of the hallway. She stood in place for just a moment before quickly marching towards him.

"Um, listen," Ben started to say. But then she was upon him. He winced and turned his head, but was surprised when instead of his skull being cracked open he felt her hug him tightly.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Ben hesitated before returning the hug. "That ... wasn't the response I was expecting."

Camilla stepped back, a look of confusion on her face. "What do you mean? You got me out of that hellhole. Drove me away in a jeep. That was pretty amazing, by the way. I ... know it wasn't easy helping me out like that. I was kinda gone."

Ben smiled shyly. This was even more awkward than he was expecting. "I mean, I guess there was the whole thing with ... Um, how much do you remember?"

"Everything. It's a little fuzzy, like a really vivid dream, but I remember it all." She suddenly looked sad. "Especially at the end with killing the guy. I was just starting to come back when I started hitting him. I could've stopped but ... I guess I kinda lost it. I'd like to think it was just the animal in me wanting to hurt him, but ... I'd be lying to myself."

Ben shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong. He deserved it. You did the right thing. The world is better off without people like him in it."

She nodded. "Then what did you mean about--" The cow lady took in a sharp breath as she realized what he was alluding to. "Ohhhhh. The whole 'needy-horny-cow thing.' Right. That's ... a little awkward. Um ..." She took a breath. "That wasn't really on you. I don't blame you for it. Even with my brain working again, there's still a little tingle of ... um, y'know, being around you. I'm told heightened libido is usually a side-effect of these transformations. But, I mean, you could've taken advantage of the situation a lot more. I mean ..." She sighed. "I guess what I'm saying is thanks for not doing that. The 69-ing thing was no big deal. I certainly have no complaints about it." She smiled conspiratorially.

Ben sighed in relief. "Okay. So we're cool?"

"Yeah. We're cool. Of course we're cool." She playfully punched him in the shoulder that wasn't bandaged. "And you kinda saved my life there with the running away and the trying to fool them into thinking you'd killed me. I heard you telling the bastard that you'd killed me. Probably didn't work exactly how you thought it would, but luckily the giant ... whatever-she-is showed up. How's that for a deus ex machina?"

Ben laughed. "I'll take it. I still keep expecting to wake up back in the cell."

"Me too," she whispered sadly. "The flying snake lady, Candice, went back to their little hideout place. No one else was inside, so thankfully we were the only two they had kidnapped. She apparently burned the place to the ground." She paused, searching for something to say. "Soooo, they want us to try to do some therapy. Just lifting stuff, manipulating Play-Doh, stuff like that. I think you'll have an easier time of it than I will. These things suck." She held up her hooves, then dropped them to her sides. "And udders make going to the bathroom an adventure. What do you think you'll do after that?"

Ben rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I don't know. I guess college is out the window. Not sure how I'll talk to my parents about this. Probably no middle-management IT job in my future. They probably did me a favor with that, though." Ben was only just realizing how much of his life was likely ruined. "What about you? Your dad is probably on the way here already, right? Wherever 'here' is."

Camilla looked away, an unpleasant sneer playing across her muzzle. "My father and I don't talk anymore. He's basically your typical millionaire shitbag. We can't stand each other. Haven't talked to him in years. He wouldn't have paid a dime to get me away from those two bastards."

"Shit. I'm sorry. What about your mom?"

"My mom's been dead for twenty years."

Ben suddenly remembered her lying on the cold concrete, crying for her dead mother as her mind slipped away. He started to reach out for her. "I'm sorry."

She gave a sad smile. "It's okay. Been a long time. But she left me a lot of land. Like 300 acres up in the mountains in North Carolina. We used to go there when I was young, back when we were pretending to be a functional family and all. It's got a little cabin in the middle, away from everywhere. I kinda just want to stay away from normal people for a while, try to figure out what I'm going to do with what's left of my life."

"Wow," Ben exclaimed. "That sounds nice. All things considered, I mean."

Camilla was hesitating. "You could, um ... What I mean to say is ..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Look, I trust you as much as I've ever trusted anyone. And it'd be nice to have a friend around for a while, especially one who went through this insanity, too. What I'm saying is, would you like to come to the cabin with me for a while? Just until you decide what you want to do."

This was the last thing Ben expected to hear. "I couldn't take advantage of--"

"No," she interrupted. "You could have taken advantage, and you didn't. I wouldn't be doing you a favor, you'd be doing one for me. Just no, y'know, walking around naked and all. Keep your kilt on. Strictly platonic kinda deal. Okay? No more sucking bull dick for me, thanks."

Ben was silent for a moment, trying not to think about how he lingered on those two particular words. "Okay. I guess ... Yeah, I'd like that. Be a nice little vacation from all this shit. Kilt stays on. Thank you."

Camilla smiled warmly, evidently very pleased. She didn't seem like she was good at hiding her emotions. "Good! After the therapy and everything, of course." She smiled. "Maybe I'll even let you tell me some more about DuckTales."

Ben's mouth opened, but no sound came out for a moment. "Um ... like the Disney cartoon?"

"It's a Disney cartoon?" Camilla was as confused as he was. "With the dragons and the lightning and the zombies? Seems pretty ... dark for a Disney cartoon."

Ben burst out into laughter. A moment later, Camilla joined in, though she wasn't sure exactly why. The sound was the nicest thing Ben had ever heard.

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