I had a feeling it would take more than a brief glancing at, so I came prepared. I was entering the medical building with my phone properly tucked in a pocket. I was wearing actual pants, and even my laptop bag was draped over me. I had everything I needed for a long wait if it came to it. But wait I would! I needed my fingers, darn it all.

It was a different secretary, a man, but he reacted about the same way when I told him what I was there for. "Just that way." Why did my doctor seem to never have a line? The other people there, and there were other people there, were all waiting patiently, but not to get to him. Were they waiting before going home? Were they freshly poked and feeling dizzy?

Would their eyes get weird? Speaking of that, while the people waiting there that had noticed visibly flinched or gawked or just looked away, the secretary didn't seem bothered by it at all. A common side effect, right?

Commonly fixed, I hoped. I went past the front desk and down the hallway I had been down once before to knock on Doctor Miller's door. "It's Laura."

"Laura," came his voice before the door swung open, him standing there and waving me inside. He wore a surgical mask and had gloves on. "You came prepared, but I didn't need you to do any computer work?" He closed the door behind me and turned to me fully. "Let me have a look."

That's when he began peering into my eyes, shining a light into either, making so many little notes in that impossible doctor's scrawl that only a doctor could read. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I have a cold." I spread my fingers, the two in the middle resting closer than the others. "But this is more important. My fingers are my livelihood. Is this also a 'common side effect' and do you have something to fix it?"

"Type D," he muttered under his breath, though he sounded unsure about it. "The other fingers, they move normally?"

I wriggled all of my fingers, even if the two were insisting on being together unless I focused on them. "As normal as can be. Type D?" I didn't like having any types, except maybe a blood type.

He sat at his desk. A loud c-thunk of a click came from the door. "I will explain, but if you would, have a seat, and hear me out until the end."

"I... think you just took that choice away from me." That had taken a sudden turn I didn't like. "Tell me why I shouldn't be dialing 911 right now?"

"You're not a prisoner," he promised. "But you are in a delicate place, and potentially contagious. We want to take complete care of you until it's done."

"Done?" I didn't like the way he said that. "Look, I'm an adult." I sat then, looking at him across his desk. "Just tell me what's going on. Assume I'll understand so long as you keep it to three syllables or less."

"The treatment we're testing is, in part, based on the genes of... That's not important." Yeah, I didn't believe that. "Sometimes, rarely, a vaccine recipient, like you, has a specific reaction. On the positive, you are completely immune to the disease, and most other human diseases for that matter.

I blinked dumbly. What the heck could be happening to me that would make me immune to most diseases? "Because I'll be dead soon and corpses are bad at catching things?"

"Nothing that morbid," he assured with a little chuckle. "You'll still be alive and well."

"Great!" I said in perhaps a bit of a squeak. "So, type D?"

"The reaction can take several courses. The fact that your fingers are affected at all implies one path, that they aren't all affected is another clue. Going into details when we can't be certain isn't helpful. Just know that you're alright." He looked towards the laptop bag sitting in her lap. "Actually, maybe it was a good idea you brought that. We'll help you get online from your room. You'll still be able to talk with your friends. The outgoing bandwidth is limited, so video call sites are filtered. Incoming works great, so it's time to Netflix and Chill a bit."

I was feeling so not chill at that moment. "Worst case scenario, what am I looking at here, Doc?"

"Your body will return to a sort of 'second puberty'. Cells will be broken down as others revert to stem cell state and begin migrating around your body. Over the next month or so, you will grow into the new genetic state that is overtaking you."

That sure... "Wow. That sounds very extreme, if you don't mind my fucking saying." I slapped a hand over my mouth. "Sorry, I don't normally curse, but... damn wow... That sounds like something that'd kill someone."

"Lethality rate for this is well under 1%," he stated with so much confidence I briefly wanted to punch him. "It's... fascinating when it's not you, I admit."

"So have you experienced this?"

"I have not." He pulled out a flat card and slid it across the table towards me. "This is your door key. Think of this as a vacation, on us. We'll be giving you everything you need, at no cost. This possibility was in the contract."

Well, fantastic... "Look, you said I could get online, so I'm not taking a vacation unless I have to."

"That's entirely fine." He stood up. "Let me show you to your room. I know this is an awkward time, at best, but we'll make it through, together."

What was I even turning into? A thousand possibilities danced in my mind as I followed him down new hallways. I was, perhaps, in a state of shock. I wasn't really paying a lot of attention, unable to even get my thoughts in order. Then we were in front of a door with a slot to the side, one of those slot locks you'd see at a hotel. He put the card he had shown me into it, the light turned green, and he opened the door before offering the card to me.

I took it, the key to my new door. "Thank... you? Look, what if I just want to go home?"

"I couldn't allow that, not yet. You're infectious right now." He gestured inside. "Go on, take a look. You'll have free run of the place. There are others like you for you to meet. This isn't a jail, promise."

"Isn't that what they always say just before you're locked up forever?" I tucked the card away, foot sliding to keep the door from closing even if he let go of it. "Who's to say the card will work on the inside?"

He smiled at that. "It's not locked on the inside. You only need it to get back inside again. It also has a physical lock inside if you want privacy. To be fair, there are cameras too, please don't tamper with those. We're monitoring you for your sake."

Ugh... There had to be something... "I don't want this." That wasn't what I meant to say, but it slipped out.

"I'm sorry." He sounded like he meant that, but I couldn't see him very well.

I blinked my eyes clear of what was in the way. Oh, tears. He put a gloved hand on my shoulder. "We'll get through this." And into my room he nudged me, and I wasn't really fighting it at that moment, shaking and lost. "Wi-fi password is on a card by your bed." With a soft click of a latch catching, the door was closed, and he was on the other side.

I shambled, shuffled basically, into the room. It was... kinda nice actually. It had a king-sized bed, a big television, the works. It was just like a nice hotel room, except I was there because I was a menace to everyone around me and may die (Less than 1% chance!). Luxurious... I set my laptop bag down on the bed with a huff.

"Thank goodness I brought you." There was the little desk by the bed. On it was a folded card with a little map of the floor. They had a gym and a cafeteria and a pool. It really was like a hotel, just one I never asked for...

It also had the wi-fi password. I dug out my laptop and powered it up. Soon I was blissfully online. It was working! I could check my email and everything. There was one from Cindy.

You're probably still out, but when you get back, remember to call me!

I pulled up the video client, but it was busy saying it couldn't connect. I flailed at the settings, trying to get it in before I remembered that he had said video chats were not allowed.

I could still email.

Hello, Cindy,

Good news and bad news. Good news! I'm alive, and have less than a 1% chance of that changing.

Bad news, I have a less than 1% chance of dying from this. Also they're keeping me here. Speaking of here, it'd be downright decedent if I wasn't busy being freaked out about what was happening. A bright side. A silver lining? Whatever you want to call it. My typing is not getting better. From the way the doctor went on about it, it'll only get worse from here, but, please, let's email. No video chat allowed.

Freaking Out,
Laura

Good thing I had finished my work for the day, because I was not in the mindset to get anything productive done. It was, indeed, time to put on a movie and just exist for a while. So I did that.

That night, after having had no dinner, I was finally asleep. It wasn't that they stopped me from going to the cafeteria or anything, but I was kind of busy losing myself. Wouldn't you be? So I was watching movies, crying, thumping the pillows, sometimes at the same time. I was a mess.

And, finally, I faded into a fitful sleep. Now, normally, I dream like everyone does, but also forget it pretty shortly after waking up. This wasn't one of those.

Cindy was there. We were at a concert. Had the shutdown ended? She was so happy, and I was happy too, which was odd for me at a concert, but dream logic being dreamy, I didn't question it. The oddest part though was that she was under me. I was throwing my hands in the air like I just didn't care, and she was... below me, as if I was like twice as tall as I usually was.

Someone bumped into me and knocked me off kilter, but I didn't fall. Instead, I was literally knocked off balance, floating there, in the air. I looked down and couldn't really make out the details of my body, dream logic, but I knew I was floating, somehow. "Watch where you're going!" I shouted. Cindy laughed.

I woke up.

First thought, panic. That wasn't my room! Oh, right, hospital/laboratory... thing... I got up onto my still-shoed feet and realized that I really needed to change, and I had no change of clothes. Well... First thing's first. I went to the bathroom and clicked on the light. There was that eye, yellow and red. My other eye was still nice and normal.

I held up a hand, my rebellious hand. I tried to spread my fingers wide, but the two stubborn ones didn't split, even when I focused on them. I reached for my left hand with my right, trying to manually separate them, but they were almost stuck, as if I was trying to do some strange new stretch. I quickly gave up, breathing a little hard. What the heck was I turning into that didn't have five functioning fingers?

"Good morning," came a female voice from the door. "Housecleaning, can I come in?"

Did I mention that place was like a hotel? It felt more and more like it... "Uh... come on in?"

The door swung open and a cart rolled in before a person pushing it came into view. She was dressed in a full hazmat suit! "Good morning," she repeated, muffled by the suit she wore. "I'll get to cleaning up. Why don't you get breakfast and I'll be done by the time you come back?"

I was about to question that when my body helpfully reminded me that I hadn't eaten for over 12 hours. "That... isn't a bad idea. Which way is that? Oh! Is there a laundry?"

She pushed ahead into the room and came back with the folded card, offering it to me. "This has all that. Keep it on you until you get used to the layout."

It did have a map, I remembered. "Thank you... I'll be back."

"If I do my job properly, I won't be here," she said in almost a sing-song despite being garbed like she was ready to take on Chernobyl. "Enjoy your meal. Oh, you have your key card?"

I dug it out to make sure, then I headed out the door that was still propped open by her cart, even if that meant I had to slip around it. Outside was brightly lit, but it was artificial light. Looking at the card, I made my way towards the cafeteria. It wasn't that far, and it looked like a little restaurant really. It had round tables and comfortable chairs and a counter with someone behind it. Someone... very strange.

He was dressed in a nice clean serving suit, name badge on display. He also had long fuzzy ears that had turned towards me when I came into the area. "Good morning," He called out, waving.

I blinked dumbly at the strange person. Was that what I was becoming? That didn't explain the fingers... "Hello..." I dared to come closer. "This is going to sound rude, but..."

"What's up with the ears?" he asked. "I'm told it'll get worse before it gets better. I didn't follow the protocols just right, got infected, here I am." He shrugged softly. "On the bright side, I don't have to wear the suit anymore. Can't avoid catching what you already caught."

"Is it something I could catch?" Or something I already had. I really didn't know. "Does it hurt?"

"You're living here, right?" When I nodded, he pointed at me. "Then you already have it. Did you catch it from someone else, or were you given the shot?"

"The shot," I said in such a little voice. I cleared my throat, trying to control myself. "Sorry, a shot. Y-you?"

"Oh, alright." He reached for a tray and put it up on the counter. "You came here to get breakfast, right? Today's your first day, right? I recognize most of the people here. Want me to get something?"

"Or...?" I looked around and spotted a buffet selection tucked up against the wall. "Oh! I can serve myself." I took the tray and he didn't stop me. "Where are the forks and--" He was already pointing and I wandered that way. "Thank you... So... you've been here a while?"

"Months."

I started to serve myself. Some fluffy eggs, some broccoli, asparagus spears, and some light fruits. No bacon? No sausage? Not really any meat besides the eggs. Odd. "Do you know what's going on then? What's happening... to me, and you I guess?"

"Only what I've seen others come in with." He lifted his shoulders softly. "I can talk about myself, but, you know, confidentiality. Would you want me talking about you?"

"I suppose not..." I grabbed the slice of bread I had taken and chewed on it almost idly. "So, you then, if you don't mind? I... understand if you don't want to."

"It's different." He rested an arm on the countertop, fingers drumming lightly. "If you get it second hand, the change comes on you different. I'll never be put on all fours."

"All fours?!" I squeaked, the bread dropping to the platter. "I'm going to be on all fours?!"

"Wait long enough and you can meet the others." He suddenly set down an empty cup on the counter. "If you want a drink." He pointed to a soda bar just waiting to be used.

At that moment, I wanted something a bit harder than soda... "Alright, so, you got it second hand, so you're... not going on all fours." Unlike me. I was going to become an animal. I would lose the ability to type. My life was... over.

"I'll just look less human," he grunted, sounding frustrated. "Horse face to match the ears, a tail. Compared to directs, almost nothing, unless you're the one getting it."

I was being unthoughtful. That poor person. Jake, his nametag said, was experiencing his own collapse of his life. But he'd keep his fingers! Lucky bastard... "Horse face?" I said even as I caught up with the thought. Images I'd seen online crept into my head. "You're... what, going furry?"

Oh the sour look he gave me. That was exactly what he didn't want to hear, poor thing. "Basically," he spat. "And I'm infectious too, at least for a while. Again, you already have it, so we're safe for each other."

That reminded me as I scooped up some eggs in the bread like a little sandwich. "They said I was alright for basically any other disease. What's up with that?"

He smiled at that. "It isn't obvious? We're becoming not-human. Why would a human disease work on us? I wouldn't go running out in the streets right now. We're still close enough." He started polishing the countertop as if cleaning it, not that much had been done to make it dirty. "A bright spot in all this."

"Dogs can catch human stuff, sometimes," I noted, putting on my nerd hat. I'd watched enough videos on random science trivia. "I don't think I'll want to roll around in filth anytime soon to test what I could catch."

"Probably a good idea."

The conversation faded awkwardly and I got back to eating. It wasn't bad, as continental breakfast-type offerings were. The yawning void inside me was satiated, which meant it was time to compute! I pulled out my phone and got to checking my email.

There was one from Cindy.

Lore,

Lore Lore Lore. What happened to you? Please tell me you're alright. You can send pictures, in the email, right? Show me you're alright, please. You owe me a concert, and I won't let you live that down, so if I have to break into wherever you are and get you out, I will!

All the hearts and love,
Cindy

Well, she was worried at least half as much as I was. I quickly typed that I was mostly alright. I felt less... completely frazzled than I had the day before, even if my sniffles were still there. "That reminds me." I turned back to Jake. "Why do I have a cold if I can't get colds?"

"That ain't a cold," he answered simply.

"But... Oh." It was what was happening to me. I held up my phone and took a picture of my smiling face, even if I wasn't entirely feeling that smile. Off it went. I wasn't entirely cut off from the world, just given a forced vacation of sorts.

"Thanks for breakfast." I stood up, phone sliding into my pocket in a practiced one-motion I had perfected over years of digital life. "Sorry, for before. I wasn't trying to poke fun."

"It's an awkward time for everyone." He gave a thumbs up. "You have it worse than me, I won't make fun if you don't."

"Promise..." And off I went, digging out the little card. Right, laundry! Off I went to the little hole in the wall that had several washers and dryers. One problem there. I had nothing to wear while my clothes were cleaned. So close to cleanliness, just to be denied. I didn't see a clothing shop on the little map there.

With a soft grumbling, I returned to my room. The cleaner was gone, just as she promised. I had to use the keycard, but it worked, the second time, and in I went, some privacy returned. At least if I entirely ignored the not-hidden cameras in the room.

I sat at the desk and got to drafting up the daily letter on my condition. I was still part of the trial... right? He never said I wasn't. I noted my fingers were even stiffer than the day before. A thought struck me and I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my socks.

I wriggled my toes and... yep... The same stiffness was in two of them easily missed with shoes on, then laid bare as my feet. Except, it was worse. My left toes didn't really want to wriggle at all. I could force them apart with that alien stretching sensation, but all of them were close together and didn't really want to come apart. My right foot, same as my hands. How...

Into the checkup it went. Doctor Miller would know what it meant, maybe. Not that he was sharing nearly enough about it to me. I slapped the send button and went next to work without delay and let me just say that having four fingers instead of five, which is what I effectively had, makes typing pretty annoying. On one level, it was better. I couldn't try to just 'remember' to move the fingers. They weren't moving.

It was adapting, instead of a focus thing. It's hard to explain, but I started adjusting how I typed as best I could. Work wouldn't wait, and I didn't want to quit. Typing and getting things done was a lot easier, and better, than fussing over what was happening to me as I was broken down and rebuilt in some alien form.

Would Cindy even recognize me after it was done? Would I be on all fours, unable to type ever again? I pushed aside those questions with a cringe as I struggled to even match half my usual typing speed. Still, work was getting done. I wasn't falling behind.

I heard something outside. Clip-clop-clip-clop went the sound of a horse trotting along the hallway. They had horses in there?! I understand wanting to keep patients happy and calm, but bringing in literal horses seemed a bit much.

Unless it was one of those little seeing-eye horses? I heard of those. They were so cute! Better than dogs in a lot of ways. Would I get one?

Would I be one? My good cheer deflated a bit, imagining a guiding rod hanging from my mouth for someone to hold onto as I walked them through things. "The light's red," I could call to them, waiting patiently for it to change.

A talking seeing eye horse... If I was going to become a horse, that might be the best thing I'd be able to do, my typing fingers taken away forever.

Ugh! I didn't want that. I really really didn't want that. I slapped the final button, my day's work completed. It had taken me longer than usual to do it, but I did it.

Miller had sent a reply!

Good Day, Lauren,

I hope you're getting used to the accommodations. If you need anything, please let us know.

A cure and a ticket home?

Thank you for remembering to send your update. Most patients forget that until reminded. Are you certain your left and right feet are expressing different symptoms? That's a bit odd. We'll have to monitor that. For now, relax. You're in good hands.

Thank You,
Doctor Miller

There was that. I was basically in a hospital. A very cushy hospital.

Author's Note

Day three! What is Lauren becoming? What is this strange place with so many creature comforts, except an easy way out? And where do I get my own talking miniature horse?!

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