Along Didgeri-Trails

by KorsonKeisyr

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Violence, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Human, Sad, Changelings, Diamond Dogs, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Griffons, Sex
Length: 8271

A Pack of Aussies doing what they can to survive till the next dawn

A Ponies after people story (non-cannon) ((Maybe)) based on 'Along New Tides' https://www.fimfiction.net/story/425483/along-new-tides
That was based on this story Starscribe's original story.

A Group of Australians simply caught in the middle of a series of unfortunate events.
Not everyday one goes to sleep a normal average human then wakes up a mythological creature... "What the 'eck's that noi-? ... WHAT THE SHIT ARE THOSE THINGS?!"

Join our intrepid heroes of the sub-urban jungle as they survive... or try to anyway. How many will they save?

Published 2022-09-16 04:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-07-21 22:17:29 UTC

Prologue - The truth children seek

The door slammed shut with a frustrated grunt, aided by both muscle and wind, sealing the humble but warmly decorated bedroom. The fresh sea breeze from the window sending the light fabric of the curtains into an airy dance. As light from both the sun, and few, but ornately carved enchanted light gems placed on specifically carved indents in the plastered stonework lit the room.

The rendered orange and pink stone walls were decorated in painted tulips and dragons, sweeping from one wall to the next on golden painted vines.

A painting of a family hung above an inbuilt bookshelf. A Gargoyle matriarch, her Abyssinian husband, and their gargoyle daughter sitting on both their laps, hugging her mother.

A desk sat under an expansive bay window.

The edges of several papers flapped in the aggressive autumn breeze, only thing preventing them from blowing about the room being the hefty glass snowglobe paperweight, The inside of which was occupied by a gold miner standing atop a dirt mound. Pickaxe and hat in one hand, tennisball sized gold nugget in the other, as the human yelled victoriously off into the distance. Surrounding his feat, 'Snow', or in this case. Gold leaf.

The papers read;
The History of the Event.
A Survivors tale.

And half the page had been written upon and erased so many times there was actually a hole.

The sounds of hoof falls out in the hall grew distant as an arriving ship let out a horn blast in the harbour...

A Gargoyle sprinted through the halls of the castle, her young hooves falling upon the polished white and black granite. The clip clopping sounds produced, being muffled by all the expansive woven fabric of the wall brocades hanging on the interior wall. Each six by three meter brocade depicting an event in the fortresses old 'colony' days.

Darting past an Abyssinian guard and almost tripping over his rifle, which clattered to the floor next to him, he was sitting on a carved wood bench eating his lunch. As he put down his sandwich to pick up the weapon, he simply yelled down the hallway for the just turned teen to slow down, the castle guard long since used to the child's shenanigans.

The girl let out a cheerful cooee in response to the horn blast that flowed on the wind, blowing through the castle's open windows. Giggling mirthfully as, the crisp sea breeze from said windows flowed through her hair and fur.

As she launched into a sideways skid into the next hallway, she asked a familiar drake (who was currently donned in a purple cloak) where her mother was. With which he simply pointed in the direction of the day court with a knowing smile. His guard cadre asked him something the teen didn't hear, having already launched into another youth enriched sprint down the next hall.

The sun's rays illuminated the hall in a scattering of prismatic lights, cast from the beautiful stained-glass patterns and coats of arms in this hall's windows.

As she looked out the windows, and into the castle's narrow but sizeable courtyard, she spotted a group of guards and other people, cutting up and loading the remnants of a recently killed Hydra into a wagon, The beast having climbed the closed gatehouse the previous night in an attack on the castle. She was startled, when her body suddenly froze, before being lifted into the air a few moments later.

She locked eyes with the fortresses window glazier. The much more 'experienced' in life unicorn tilted her rigid form in the air to examine her hooves, and after a moment he nodded, setting her down gently back onto her hooves. Releasing the young Gargoyle from his magic, he spoke in his hoarse voice, "You should really be more careful there, Emily! Look at what you nearly ran into!" He said in a calm but serious tone.

The young gargoyle leaned to the right to look in the direction the Unicorn was pointing. Four of the ornate windows in the hall a mere few feet away were reduced to a recently swept up pile of prismatic glass shards. A castle hand moved deftly to mop up the last of a once expansive blood pool. Staring at the pile of glass shards for a few moments, Emily had noted the presence of scales with a metallic sheen to them, wyvern maby?

Looking back to the Unicorn she nodded in his direction, even if he was already pouring all of his concentration into fitting the replacement window back into the frame.

As she started into a jog and transitioned back into a sprint, Emily heard the glazier call her name and warn her not to sprint down the east tower's stairs. Since they didn't exist any more, from the second floor up to the fourth.

Choosing an alternate route through the fourth floor, Emily extended her wings and glided down the three-story cavernous aquaponics chamber. Pausing halfway through to examine a Murray cod swimming in between the roots of a strawberry bush tray.

She sprinted the remainder of the way through the castle. Revelling in the glorious scents of the castle kitchens filling her nose, the cooks each working with the productivity of three others of their profession. Emily indeed did look forward to the banquet tonight!

Upon hearing the voice of the 'no nonsense' garrison commander, she slowed her pace to a walk as she moved through the banquet hall. She watched, as castle hands worked together with the practised teamwork and precision of planning to hurriedly finish prepping the room for the upcoming celebration.

Leaving out of the frankly huge double door to the banquet hall, she felt a gloved hand rest on her shoulder. "DAD!" She squeed with joy as she leaped up onto the Abyssinian and wrapped him in a dual hug. Her arms around his neck and her wings around his torso. "You're back! Mum and I were worried you'd miss the banquet!" She exclaimed after having planted a peck on his cheek. "Where have you been?"

"Wouldn't miss my pavlova for the world!" he said as Emily playfully swatted him over the head with a wing. "Also." He reached into the satchel that hung on his hip, and pulled out two wrapped boxes. "I didn't forget." He stated.

"Of course you didn't!" She said as she hopped down and accepted the gifts graciously. Opening the smallest one first, she went wide-eyed at the silver necklace inside. Every second ring was holding a small pure sapphire that matched her eyes. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed whilst putting it on.

"Thats sterling silver. So you never have to take it off, even to bathe, the silver won't tarnish. And all those sapphires are enchanted, they're mana stones."

"No! This must have cost you a fortune!" she mumbled whilst fiddling with the chain.

"Anything for my daughter, I have one for your mother too. I know how you both have issues with using magic." he said with a wink. "Now for the second one." he said with an encouraging, knowing grin.

The moment the paper was ripped Emily shredded the rest of it, opening the light weight wooden box she laughed and looked up at her father. "Dad, your going to kill and bury my diet damn it" she remarked as she popped a Turkish delight in her mouth and placed the lid back on the box.

"The confectioner wanted to thank the both of us. So he gifted me those to gift to you. Also. If you do something that reckless with a manticore again, I will tell your mother. You really should've been indoors, sweetie, We don't want you hurt or worse." he cautioned as she hopped into his arms.

As she climbed up and happily received a piggyback from her father, Emily simply replied with an honest, "But It's what you would have done. Mr. Petrovskys daughter was about to be eaten, besides, it's not like using a portal's micron thick edge to cut the thing's head off was actually dangerous you know, I'm not a little kid anymore!" she stated.

"Indeed. But you still do love your Piggybacks and bedtime stories dont you?" he asked.

The gargoyle on his back simply crossed her arms. "Low blow" she mumbled with a stern pout.

As the pair arrived at the iron banded double doors that lead into the day court, the guards on the inside pushed the doors open to allow those inside to exit into the castle's polished granite foyer.

Looking around, Emily spotted her target, "MUM!" She shouted across the din of conversation in the room.

Her father locked eyes with a particularly pregnant gargoyle of sand coloured fur and rather odd naturally blue hair. The matron made her way across the room to the pair before giving the Abyssinian a death grip of a hug. "I heard your train derailed! I was so worried about you, Jericho!"

"Sorry to have made you worry, Liam. We expected them to board us. Not to derail us... It was like the Kelly gang's last stand all over again, but this time it went to plan. If Desmond didn't think fast with that teleport." Jericho shuddered.

"Oh shut you! You are alive and healthy! That's all that matters!" She mumbled into his shirt. She kissed him and said, "But seriously though, if you get yourself killed, I will make a spell to bring you back, just to kill your goofy ass myself." She said with a playful punch to his gut. After pecking, hugging and complimenting Emilie's new necklace, Liam asked the teen had been dreading, "And how's your homework going young lady?"

With a groan of annoyance, Emily replied with a noncommittal, "It's getting there. I'm just not very happy with it... It's just. So conventional... How many times have the same things been read and copied from the history books. With such a broad topic as, "History of the event", you would think it's easy to make something original!" she griped.

Liam nodded along whilst thinking about her daughter's complaint. Her mind latched onto an idea that could both give her Daughter the information from a fresh perspective she wanted. And also get her hubby and her some alone time for the few hours before the banquet was to begin.

With a practised wave of her hand, Liam opened a dinner-tray sized portal to the secret vault in her room. Reaching into the void she fished around, after a few moments she 'Ahah'ed and pulled a thick hard covered book from the magical void. "This is my Diary from the event. It covers the time from when I first returned, to the beginning of the building of this castle." She entailed, Before promptly being cut off by a,

"Yoink! Thanks mum!"

"Huh," Liam mumbled. "That went to plan." She commented.

"Went to plan?-" Jericho began to question, before spotting a particularly well acquainted expression on his wife's face. "Righto then. Bedroom? or vault?"

"The vault, don't have to worry about her coming in asking questions." Liam commented.

"Yes my little Satyr.-" His joke was cut off by a friendly swat over his head by a leathery wing. "Yes M'lady."

As the two begun walking back to their room, a Dreake in a purple robe walked over and greeted them. They chatted for a time, simply old friends catching up. Before long the drake took his leave, wanting to return home before night fell.

Walking up the stairs hugging one wall to a balcony. He, and his cadre of winged guards of various species took flight. Higher and higher they flew, before turning towards the setting sun. They could see they're home, a Citadel in the mountians a roughtly ten to fifteen minute flight from this mountaintop in the distance, silhouetted in the setting sun.

Looking over his shoulder, under the flapping wings of the armoured Griffon carrying him. The drake saw the castle atop the lone mountain range shrinking with distance. Across the seemlingly perfectly level, flat terrain of Melbourne. The city that gave the surrounding area its name sat, breaking up the horizons line with its many man made lines. There it sat. Crumbling away at the hands of time and mother nature...

Patchworks of orange and pink light reflecting off the scattered windows that still remined in the still standing skyscrapers...

Chapter 1 - From dew of night, to scorch of day.

The pitter-pattering sounds of rain hitting the road filled my ears, many hundreds of droplets falling from the heavily laden trees. Sparkling in the artificial light bracketing the street.

The white light from the streetlamps overhead causing everything to glisten. A gust of cold wind struck suddenly, causing a barrage of droplets to fall from the many bushes and trees lining the nature strips of the neighbourhood. The cold wind, compliments of Antarctica, felt as though it cut through the wool and cotton of my dressing-gown and the pyjamas under it.

But the cold and the wet never bothered me. Heck, as far as I was concerned I could move to Britain, and sunbathe quite happily.

That earned a chuckle, I turned my head in amusement, the chuckle had left me as a cloud of solid white fog that blew down the street on an errant wind. “I can be such a cheeky prick sometimes” I mumbled to myself. A glance down to my bare feet showed they were pale white from the cold… ‘Meh, Better than overheating in summer’. Boy was I glad that the season had passed, bring on winter!

I stopped in front of a sapling on the left nature strip, to admire the glistening orbs of water hanging from the many leaves of a soon to be wattle tree. For a few moments I stared into the tiny reflections of the surrounding street, before stepping back out into the centre of the road and continuing my walk back home. Just a few doors down from my sister’s house.

Living in the north-east quarter of town, the crime rate was basically not a worry in my neighbourhood. Almost the majority of families living in this part of town could trace themselves back several generations to around about the towns founding. However, given the crime rates in the southern and even western sides, that fact didn’t abate the nagging anxiety that clung onto the back of ones subconscious. The driveways of each property hideen behind thick greenery or tall fences, provided a great many possibilities for ambushes.

Thus. Why I always walk in the middle of the road. Not to much threat of being hit by a car. It was one of those neighbourhoods were everyone drives slowly out of anxiety of someone's kids running out into the road. Of course the speed bumps every one hundred or so meters also helped.

The reason for my nine PM walk down the street in my pyjamas? In the rain? My nephew had left his pizza and garlic bread in my fridge. Again. At this point it was part of the weekly ritual, my nephew comes over on Friday, sleeps over the night. We would watch movies, play console games together, then he’d leave on Saturday or Sunday in the evening, accidentally leaving half his things at my house in the process. Thus leading to me carrying his things back down to his house at the end of my street.

As usual, the one and only amber light in the entire street was in front of my driveway. The bulb itself decided that tonight’s fun activity would be flickering spastical- ‘why is every light in the street flashing?-’ Crossed my mind, before the sky lit up in a spectacular display of aurora’s that I'd never thought i would get to enjoy. But that thought shattered when my body was wrapped in a cloak of pain as I struggled to stand.

A pained yell left my mouth as I clutched at my aching body, it was almost like I could feel my atoms tearing themselves free of their bond brothers. I screwed my eyes shut when my teeth started throbbing as I smothered a yelp of pain through them.

Night. Meet day. Instantly, for good measure of course. The darkness of nine in the evening being replaced by the blaring Australian sun.

“What the- Argh!” I winced in the added pain of a migraine as my night vision was brutally slain by the sudden wall of light. I raised my arms up to shield my face, but the action shifted my weight far more to the rear than it had any right to.

‘Why am I overbalancing backwa-’ was all that raced through my mind as I stumbled backward five or six paces. “Oh Shi- Owf” I exclaimed as, and fell flat on my arse. A sudden pain shot up from the base of my spine, on knee jerk reaction I rolled to the side.

I found out for some reason that was also a bad idea. As a sudden lance of pain shot through my lower shoulder. Accompanied by the searing pain of having your bare skin come in contact with an Australian road in the summer heat. Such temperatures could burn even the most asbestos footed Aussies.

Phantom limb syndrome be damned. That burning feeling combined with the abrasiveness from the road was actually causing physical pain somewhere that shouldn’t anatomically be there. The thought of it being my back itself was banished, as logic was dancing around on the hot coals of pain in my head as I flailed to get off of the scalding brimstone that was the road. My mind spinning its wheels, but even in its addled state it had worked out;
‘One. You’re wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown.’
‘Two. That pain isn't on your back, its out of it.’

Still completely blind from the god rays flooding my eyes, I turned to face the left naturestrip on my hands and knees before crawling over to the gutter.

The phantom pain behind me feeling not only physically burning, but the cruel sting of carpet burn and scrapes as well.

The soft but warm embrace of the grass was nice and welcomed change, but why did it feel like I was crawling through a barley field?

I finally stopped for a moment once I felt the shade of a familiar Jacaranda tree shielding me. I sat there, the preassure of the trees narrow trunk pressing into my back and trying to relax, however, my confusion wouldn’t abate. After a minute I slowly cracked open an eye.

Blinking as I felt the god-mother of an impending migraine wrap its fingers around my head. My eyes were thankfully beginning to adjust to the luminance as I took stock of my surroundings.

The grass of the nature strips were completely overgrown. The lush green grass carefully cared for by their respective homeowners had been allowed to grow unkempt. The ground cover reverting into the wild plant that it was. The stalks of sun dried barley grass almost waist high either side of the street.

. . .‘Why is the world so much clearer now?’ Having been blinded by the oppressive tyrannical overlord that is the sun aside… I already had twenty/twenty vision, but this was like when you turned your Ultra HD TV’s sharpness up to as far as it would go. It was rather distracting trying to not stare at every detail everywhere I looked. The movements the grass made in the lazy breeze drawing my eyes everywhere as I tried figuring out why everything I saw had ghosts of itself in separated RGB colour.

The cloud that had provided me solace from the cancer seeding Australian sun continued away on its winds, allowing the heat and light to wash over me once more.

I brought my hand to my face to shield my poor eyes…

It was then that I noticed my hand… The sight of the appendage made me do a double-take. My eyes trailed down the arm that could not have been my own in disbelief. The limb leading from the CLAWED hand that was covered in black fur back to what could only be my shoulder-errrrrrrrrrrRRRR “WHY DO I HAVE TITS?!” I Exclaimed… Well… Screamed, in as manly a way as possible given the circumstances.

Movement in my peripheral vision caused my eyes to naturally snap to my left before I could assess the validity of their existance. With a Jerk of surprise, I fell over onto my right side with a hiss of sharp pain. I had been startled by the sudden knowledge of the presence of a large, maroon coloured and fairly fuzzy bat wing.

Incidentally. In being startled and falling over to my right, I had landed on its opposite brethren, both wings having sprung out in my surprised state.

Looking in the direction of the percieved movement, I spotted nothing, it must of simply bee nthe grass swaying in the gently increasing breeze. Nether the less, I felt like prey. A sense of existance I not only had never felt before. But thoroughly hated.

“What… The hell?” I mumbled to no one in particular, as my breathing quickened and anxiety and a not insignificant amount of fear gripping the inside of my chest. Still looking myself over.

Arms? The upper half was covered in tan fur, from the elbow to my fingertips being black fur. They built of lean muscle, about the same fairly built and toned musculature as before, but minus the small amount of fat from my predominantly sedimentary lifestyle. “What the heck… What- How- why...”

Legs? Short, but built rugged, and ending in stout hooves. They were digitigrade, not dissimilar to that of an anthropomorphic Disney character, or a furry.

Adding further fuel to the current string of blazing emotions; Shock, surprise and fear currently having an animated sabre duel for the top position. From what I could feel as my clawed fingers ran over my form, I had an hourglass form to my waist.

Looking up and down the street, I took notice of all the grass and carefully maintained hedges that used to adorn the property lines either side of the street had declared open rebellion against their caretakers. The treacherous lawns were belly-high on me, and I ain’t short being six foot two.

“Oh no… Am I?” I mumbled as I took stock of my height compared to the neighbours fence. Sure enough, it was true. I had lost about a foot and a half of my former height at least. It could have been more along the lines of two feet.

After opting to bury all this as far underground in my thought processes as possible, at least until I made it the rest of the way back home. I pushed myself up into a standing position, the Jacaranda tree bracing me.

This was going to be difficult, I was standing upright, but the addition of my new wings was Really throwing my balance off.

“Baby steps…Baby Steps Liam…” With a breath, I push off. “One step… Oh boy, that’s so different… Two-woo-oo-” Stopping at the gutter I very nearly overbalanced again onto my face. I looked at the road before me. It's black bitumen very dry. The heat swirling and radiating from it did nothing to boost my confidence as I felt it radiating uncomfortably against my shins. The path the cars took most often showing wet glistening tar.

“Pfft- To hell with that idea,” I mumbled to myself whilst awkwardly turning to walk across the overgrown nature strip. “Alright. Left foot. Right foot. Left. Right. Left. Right.” My pace began to speed up with the occasional wobble and threat of a trip here and there. By far the most distracting thing for my attempt at walking was the fear of rolling my ankle. The narrow and very small treading surface offered by my new hooves forced me to subconciously make sure they were level before putting my weight on them. Which substantially slowed my pace.

Looking up only so often to make sure I wouldn't walk into a tree or a street lamp, I continued to slowly advance down the street, making sure to keep track of my former feet, having turned hooves.

The tall grass was an interesting obstacle that I did not need right now. It was rather difficult to push over with my new, what I had hoped was ‘hopefully temporary’ anatomy. The dried grains in the grass shedding free and sticking in my fur as well as imbedding themselves in my clothing didn't help any as well. The grains causing each swipe of my body emcompasing clothing to sharply graze my body.

I continued moving down the street, in my usual way of coping… with comedy. “Left, Right Left, Hon Hon. Left Right Left Hon Hon!” I yelled in a French accent… It had some helping benefits at least. Strutting down the street as if I was the lead for a marching band was starting to teach me a cadence for walking with my new anatomy. It also dramatically sped up my progress. Helping me gain confidence in my end goal of making it inside my hopefully cooler house at the end of my street.
The ever present dizzyness caused by the buildup of heat inside my winter pajamas giving my all the excuse I needed to continue forward. Just as I lived for the cold. The heat was my one true foil, I always lamented the fact that I am Aboriginal descendant, yet I handle the heat about as well as a combine harvester handles wet harvests.

I had eventually made it to the houses front gate. Then to the balcony and the raised concrete topped Pergola that protected my front door area. Making getting back home a game of checkpoints had made it a less daunting task, one that actually felt rewarding by the time I had finished scaling the three seven inch tall steps to the shaded bench sitting in front of my front door.

I had struggled up the three front steps of my house, almost managing to fall over the first, second, and third in the process. Falling backwards would have sucked, falling a foot was ok… I guess, but falling two or three feet? Been there, done that. Definitely not fun! Especially with my very overgrown potbound cactus being rather close to those steps in the context of someone falling backwards off of them.

Stopping to sit down in the shade of the pergola on the antique bench I had restored a few years prior to rub both my scunned knees, I smiled at the fact I had managed the whole way without falling. Until I made it to my driveway. ‘This body really doesn’t like moderately steep slopes it seems…’ I thought with a cringe as I caught my breath and cooled off. A dull throbbing pulses in my back as lances of pain shot through the wings on my back.

Looking out over the street I saw the usual sight, the white picket fence of the house directly across from mine. The house next to that on the left, its white repainted brick front and modern chrome light fixtures making the old early sixty's era building look like a pig that had a terrible makeup artist over for practice.

Especially with the original toothpaste green steel bar fence. The rest of the houses were completely blocked from view by all the greenery of the nature strips either side of the road. The old and mighty ghost gum tree standing proud a hundred feet over and shading part of the block.

With a breath of ‘fresh’ air, the smell of the many roses that occupied the perimeter of the front yard, mixed with the smell of copious amounts of dust and ash from the tipped fireplace bucket that had been kicked over on the porch.

I stood, before making the last four feet of distance to my inset front door and opening my cobweb covered security door.

A twist of the front doors stout yet aged black brass door knob granted me entry. The door hinges squeaking and groaning as I gently pushed the inch and a half thick stout wood slab open.

The weighty solid redgum front door opens to the inside of the entry hallway. A blast of rotten smelling air slammed into me, almost knocking me off my volitile balance. My black furred hand smacked me in the nose as it automatically moved to shield my nose, but my muscle memory not accounting for my new muzzle.

Three beeps from the door sensor announced my entry into the home, a little addition a family friend added to the home when I was an adventurous wee’ little blighter. Many times I had given my mum a fright when I opened the door and sneaked out. Only for mum to find little five-year-old me half an hour later playing in the barley fields that used to surround our house's perimeter fence.

Taking a gulp of fresh air from outside and stepping into the humidity of my sealed up home. I slowly exhaled in careful measure to increase the amount of time I had before needing to take that next dreaded breath.

I moved through the hallway, my hooves clacking against the large rectangular grey tiles as I looked into the lounge room to my immediate left on entry. Empty, and dark. The military-style olive-drab cot is still in the centre of the lounge from where my nephew left it, still with his bedding atop it.

My fish tank light was still on. That in itself was strange, mum usually turned it off if I forgot to…

I walked to the end of the entry short entry hall, looking left into the brightly lit kitchen and dining room, then right, down the fairly dark, carpeted hallway to the bedrooms and bathrooms of my home. Opening the laundry door that sat in front of me with a bit of effort, the house's stumps having shifted long ago rendering the door barely closable. Empty. And filled with a moderately thick layer of dust. Cobwebs strung around the corners of the room like ghastly streamers.

I backed out of the Laundry and turned left. Stepping into the kitchen was a very strange experience with the clip-cloping of hooves filling the room. The shopping was still on the bench and floor from when dad brought it in, yet to be packed away when I had returned home.

It was then that an errant thought struck me… What happens when mum and dad see me? I’ve turned into some sort of monster… The realisation that I will startle my parents, and may very well have to make a defencive retreat out of my own home filled my core with a deepening sense of dread.

Yet I turned and walked back into the entry hall, continuing down the connected hallway to my front as I left the kitchen, passing the laundry on my left. Leaning against the tea set grey painted wall with my hand. Feeling the cool, texture of the wall that had taken me applying fifteen layers of the lighter paint during the partial rennovations mum and I had made sliding past.

Sort of in a dazed autopilot. I came back to lucidity and noticed mum and dads bedroom door open. “Hello? Mum? Dad? Anyone home?” I asked loudly, immediately followed by a cringe at the feminine tone my voice had gained.

The carpet felt soft under my hooves. Pressing into them as I continued. The butterflies of doubt and fear building in my stomach as my mind raced through many possibilities, from terrified screams to flying antique bedside touch lamps.

I stepped through the threshold of the door and into the dark room. Empty, but mum's small bedside fan and light were still on, and the TV on the wall next to me facing the bed was sitting diligently in standby mode. And to top it off the steel window blinds were still down.

Walking to the head of the bed I grabbed the Foxtel remote and went to the tv guide. I scanned through the channels and clicked on seven news… Static. Back to the TV guide, Channel Nine. Static… Channel six News? Static again… “Uh-Oh…” I mumbled, the static-filled screen the only witness to my presence in the dark room.

I walked (that was being nice to myself, it was more of a pained waddle due to my burning knees. Yes, I am a pain pansy. Sue me.) into the kitchen once more.

Looking at the shopping. I recoiled in disgust as I found the source of the foul smell. The bagged bread loaves were every colour, but the correct one. And there was the very tangible reek of rotting meats… Something had burst, a black, tar like viscous fluid having spread under the plastic bags and across the rather dated rounded star pattern of the glazed brown kitchen tiles.

‘Ok… Getting a little freaked out now’ I thought as I headed to the laundry door once more. Moving against better judgement in my panic I practically jogged through the cramped laundry room and into the sunroom.

I completely tripped over the raised inch high door frame, down the step, and ended up arse over tits (quite literally now) in a pile of boxes containing all the spare sets of uniforms TOLLS had even issued dad. But not before slamming my right shoulder into the corner of one of the two filing cabinets that stood next to the back door. A stack of cleaning supplies raining down from the stacked metal shelves that stood next it. My mouth hung open in soundless pain as I shielded my head from the bottles of Pineoclean, Dettol and dish detergent.

After a minute of lamenting my situation… And struggling to breathe thanks to my being upside down and my… ‘Assets’ resting on my nose. I righted myself and opened the back door with my good arm.

Bursting out into the backyard and nearly rolling an ankle in the process. The first thing apparent once I stopped stumbling and fell onto mum’s antique school desk, was the paint on dad's lawnmower had faded from its once-proud orange to a dishevelled tangerine.

Looking to my left out over the yard, the lawns in the backyard were very much the same story as the rest of the block. Knee height, but unlike the rest of the block, riddled with sprouting Box Thorns and the usual Barley.

I walked along the narrow concrete pathway that hugged the glass wall of the sunroom, and peered around the ninety-degree bend in the backyard.

Noone.

“Hello!? Mum! Dad!” I called out. My sense of loneliness being vastly outweighed by a rapidly growing sense of dread.

I hobbled through the house and back out the front door, heading back down the street to my Nephews house.

Sis’ four-wheel drive was still in the driveway. Gregs red Holden station wagon was also parked in the overgrown lawn.

“Hello? Sis!?” I yelled in desperation as my fist slammed into her front door repeatedly. Six minutes would pass before I moved to the next house down the street. Working my way back home over the course of an hour as I went door to door.

I felt tears streaming from my eyes as I slid down my neighbours front door. Just begging for someone, anyone to answer the door.

As I pulled my legs into my chest and a sob wracked me. I listened to my surroundings. Hearing nothing but absolute quiet. No traffic. No dogs. No people. Just the quiet rustling of the gentle breeze, birds singing and the sounds of insects.

‘I need to get online.’ I thought with an urgency that only panic could bring about. "At least some part of the internet must work. Maby there will be something there!" I spoke in desperate self-reassurance.

After making my way back to, and through my home to the bedroom half, I walked into the computer room. My PC was silent, but with an urgan stroke of my fingers across my aluminium keycaps the green blacklight of my keyboard and mouse pulsed and lit my room a second before my towers purple RGB added its light.

Sitting down in my Computer chair… That was mums until I had commandeered it. I placed a fuzzy clawed hand on my mouse and moved it. My screen flickered to life, all my tabs as I left them, saving my latest art commission on Krita, I closed the window, along with my music player and after searching the internet aimlessly for some information, I eventually closed my browser.

My mouse moved down to the taskbar as I spammed the Skype icon.

The usual twenty-second load time felt like an eternity, eventually, the little rotating 'S' gave way to a bright yet comforting application.

I scrolled through my recent chats. Most of my contacts were either offline or away. But, with a grain of hope, I noticed Will was online, with over fifty more messages since we last talked before I left to drop off my nephews stuff…

With a mountain of apprehension, I clicked the call button. My hands by now were shaking enough for me to notice. My eyes flicked over to a bar of metallic purple and gold colour on my white desk. Reaching over I unwrapped and took a bite out of the Turkish delight. The taste of rosewater jelly and chocolate somewhat soothing my frayed nerves…

“Liam! Thank fucking god dude.” Yelled a. . . Feminine voice, with a bit of scratch to it.

“Will!” I Practically yelled at my monitor, whilst trying to figure out how to wear my headset, thanks to my new pointy ears the blasted thing kept falling off! “That is you isn’t it?” I asked meekly.

“. . . Dude. What is with you're voi- Never mind. Where are you? Are you safe?!”

“I’m home at the moment, I’ve been through some scary and intense shit man,” I mumbled with a shaking voice into my microphone. “But I’m REALLY freaking out right now! My parents left the house with the door unlocked and all their bedroom lights and electronics on! My fish tank light was left on! That never happens! And my kitchen is full of mouldy and off shopping! It was fresh when I left! And the neighbourhood is an overgrown mess! And I have TITS NOW! Friggin’ BOOBS man!” I yelled into the headset's mic with panic.

“OI!” Will’s shout wrangled me from my panicked state, “You have no idea dude. . . Alright. Have you seen yourself yet? If not, take me with you on your phone. I’ll try and explain as you pace around like you usually do.”

I grabbed my Smartphone from my dressing gown's deep pocket. And joined the call on my phone.

“So. You now have the basics down. Different figure. No one is home. Overgrown neighbourhood. It’s the same here. I know that it’s been at latest, three months since this happened. I was at my computer when whatever happened, happened.”

“I was walking down the street after I said I’d be right back … Then on the return trip night became day and the place went from basically being flooded and cold to bone dry and searing hot...”

“I was just saying good morning to my Nan, when we both changed at the same time. Pop wasn’t around the house, so I assume it didn’t affect him.” I hear Will move about, and open something. “I’ve found twenty others. Haven’t talked to a few of them in a while. All of them affected the same as us, new bodies.”

There was a metallic crack, then a slurping sound. “Some of them got their gender swapped as I did, and I assume you did too, by your voice and the scream of ‘I have tits now man’.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“What do we do? Have you called the others?” I asked.

“Only Jonas so far. He was with his family. They changed. Same as us. They haven’t found any others yet. . . Have you encountered any of the wolves yet?”

“Wolves? In Melbourne. Austral-” The rest of my sarcasm died in my throat as I opened my bathroom door. The mirror that covers the entire upper half of the wall above the vanity showed me a reflection that in no part made me feel warm and fuzzy. I stood there, Staring… What looked back at me was a strange creature. Shorter than my usual height, if not only slightly shorter upon closer inspection.

The face looking back into my soul had a rather angular appearance, two large brown eyes, the same as I used to have catching the light coming in from the window to my right, as they glistened over. Two ears. Long, straight and narrow things, poked out the top of a head of long blue silken hair.

Behind me, I could see wings. . . My wings, quivering. Their scunned purple membranes make a barely audible fluttering sound with the movement. I stripped from my dark green tartan dressing gown and pajamas, nothing could be done to save the top since the thin fabric had been torn when my wings must of sprouted from my back. The whole creature was covered in khaki coloured fur. But by far, the most jarring change was the addition of two breasts in the usual position on the chest… The… ‘Assets’ being rather… ‘Generous’...

“Liam? Are you alright?”

“WHA- WHa- wha… wh-a…” Was all I could breathe out in my shocked stupor.

“So what are they? C’s? D’s?” I hear the mirthful voice from my phone.

“H-How the heck a-am I supposed to kn-know that…” I stuttered out as I backed into the wall. Sliding down until I was sitting on the floor.

Will diverting the conversation to the topic of the wolves, which went on for several minutes whilst I slowly calmed down on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom.

“-damn things burn well enough. Found that one out when Dave used a homemade explosive and blew up a parked car, taking three of them with it.” Will explained, we were face to face via our phone cameras.

He was now a Female Gryphon. With a dark blue downy head of a fur/feather combination. And a brown body, with yellow forearms. ‘Her’ eyes were a darker, dull rose red colour.

“I don’t believe I turned into a Gargoyle of all things…A Female Gargoyle” I said with frustration, my volume still fairly loud due to my fading adrenaline high. “I- I just don’t believe it's possible… I can’t fathom this reflection is mine…” I said from my position sitting in the corner between the wall and the tiled in bath, the brown tiled floor soothing the aching of my new body as i sat with my arms holding my burning knees to my chest.

The sitting position keeping myself from staring in the mirror. My Laundry basket had since been relocated to the inside of the empty bath to make room for me in the cramped space.

“And yet. Here you are.” William said. Taking another drink from his fridge. “. . . On the plus side. Drinks are free. A little flat, but free.”

Looking down at the phone and opening my eyes for the first time in easily ten minutes, I noticed the phone was casting a glowing light in the cold ceramic room.

“How late is it for you?”

“Late enough that I should have got the firewood an hour ago… But I can’t really walk at the moment, let alone use a wheelbarrow or even just carry in singular logs… These wings, which I can’t even open when I want them to, overbalance me backwards something scary, and I keep almost rolling my ankles thanks to these hooves.”

“Get it. You will need it for the night.” Will said, looking through his window blinds. “Those Lumberwolves take to the streets more at night.”

“What time do they usually start skulking out from the woodwork?” I asked, my pun registering with either of us.

“Nine. From what I can tell. As late as Two.”

“Its Seven now… Shit, I think I’ll leave it for tonight, my doors an inch and a half thick solid red gum block, if they get through that, they deserve my arse.”

“Then get something long, and fireproof, that you can tie some cloth to. Like I said. They burn well.”

“I’ll just use the can of Air Freshener in my toilet. Fire freaks them out? Then I’ll give them a fucking Flammenwerfer.” I mumbled with tangible hatred. Hatred not just directed at the man eating monsters made of lumber, but my predicament.

“Crude. But it’ll scare them off. . . Liam. We need to discuss what happens next, because I have a feeling things are going to get worse. And I’d prefer it if we were within arms distance.”

I nodded. Will was only able to see my silhouette due to the light my screen gave off in the dark. “I agree. The larger a group is, the harder it is to get the drop on and surprise it.” I Noted aloud. My tactician side had made a guest appearance.

“Any ideas? Anything goes as far as I’m concerned, since we all up here agree that stealing doesn’t really mean anything anymore.”

“Remember that story we wrote? The one where we went camping on Snake island? Snake Islands an option, it’s highly defensible being an island, the only problem is it spends its low tides connected to the shore.” I mumbled.

“That’s far. I’ve been trying to drive, but I’ve found it easier to walk and glide where I can.

“Its either that or the mountains behind my place, that's even further, but it puts us between three cities. Plenty of scavenging targets, but plenty of chances to get found and atta- Oh my-! What happened to your hand!” I exclaimed in shock at seeing my friends appendage.

Said hand was only in view because Will was reaching towards the table, with only a finger and an opposable thumb left. Two stumps had replaced the two lost digits.

William retracted his hand, and cradled it in his other open one.

“I. . . We were ambushed about two weeks ago. Damn things took them.”

It took me a moment to realize the implications from the tone of Williams new voice. The thought a similar fate may have happened to my parents stoked that familiar and hated fire of panic in my core. “... Will, Tell you what. Let me sleep the night off, And maybe when I catch up on some sleep from before this whole thing blew through, I will calm down a bit…” I mumbled.

“. . . Sure. See you tomorrow.”

“G'night mate. Keep your lot safe, and I don't mean throw yourself at the living bonfires! My family is gone… That only leaves me with you guys…” I croaked out, barely catching myself before I could cry, but I'm sure my glistening eyes were showing in the video feed.

“Yeah. . . I won’t do anything stupid until we are together.” Will smirked. “Count on it. We need a plan in case the lines die tonight.”

"If all else fails, try to round up everyone who you can convince to come with you and move down here... Its much better here in terms of survival, livestock and fields everywhere, heavy industry to salvage..." With a nod as his affirmative response, I pressed the hangup call button, resting my head against the only plastered wall in the room with a rather loud Thud.

Clenching my eyes shut as they started stinging. Exhaution tugged at my limbs, my mouth was dry, And I felt sweaty and oily. Two states I personally hated.

“Why…” I mumbled before rolling to my skinned knees. Hissing as my weight pressed them into the tiles while I got my new hooves under me.

I closed and locked the bathroom door out of habit.

Standing, I walked into the middle of the room. Subsequently, putting me in front of the mirror and I stared at my new self.

Furry breasts that filled my hands were the most prominent thing that caught my eye, only until a few hours ago, being a guy was my life long norm... despite how obvious the change was, it was so jarring that it was hard to foccus on a particular thought. My addled brain struggling to do anything but acknowledge the dull throbbing of every fibre of my being.

Having a sense of adventurism wash over me. I gave my cupped breast a gentle squeeze. Feeling a strange sense of calm begin to wash over me.

My eyes then trailed down between them, but I eventually sighed, the slightly lower hight made me too short. And the mirror was too high.

Pulling the sliding glass shower door open, I turned on the water, making sure to keep the temperature low to avoid an even more painful experience than using all in one bodywash on fresh cuts and rather deep and abundant scrapes that decorated my wings and limbs.