Chapter Text
The young man woke up in a daze, thinking that he had just fallen asleep after a rough bender.
Although, is that really what happened last night?
There’s no way he could go through all the events. But there were at least some foggy remnants of what could have happened.
Flying down the road…Pink Floyd…was there another car? Oh Christ, did I hit somebody?! No, no, no. I would have remembered that. But…I remember flipping. Once. Twice. Maybe a shitload of times. Maybe I was just high…I remember something about a drug test.
Christopher managed to open his eyes. He saw the view of an alley somewhere downtown.
Yeah, I was definitely high. No fucking question about that.
He did, however, question his ability to see so well in the dim night. He could have sworn it was bright outside, but one look at the sky told him that wasn’t true. The street lamps looked so yellow, Chris could have sworn they had fire in them. Same goes for the headlights on the roads. The cars sounded like thunder, and he could hear them coming from further away than he ever could before. It made his feeling of unnaturalness even more intense.
That’s the only way he could describe it right now…unnaturalness.
“Ugh, Christ. My fucking head.” Christopher said to himself. He lifted his hand, trying to hold pressure to his throbbing brain.
His eyes winced while rubbing. He ghosted his digits over his face before slowly opening them up again.
They opened much quicker once he had seen them.
“What the fuck?”
Christopher’s strong vision held itself onto the pink paw pad with five equally pink toes surrounding it. Orange fur encased the area, with darker orange stripes running across.
He flexed the muscle in his hand (his hand? What hand?) and it revealed five sharp white talons emerging from their nail beds.
Christopher’s eyes widened, allowing himself to focus more on the appendage. He felt the urge to sniff at it too; which he didn’t think was so weird, since he had never smelt this weird way after a night out.
“AH - fuck!” Christopher leaped up in surprise, suddenly standing himself up.
One of his ivory claws had come too close to his enhanced eye and, well, Chrissy got to find out for himself how sharp they really were.
Shaking his paw, and wincing his eye, the mafioso could practically feel his hair stand on end from the shock.
Wait..was it?
He now realized he had stood himself up. But…it felt different? Just like everything else was, sure, but…he was lower. Still low to the ground even though he could tell he was fully standing up now.
Christopher shook his head and took in his surroundings. A dumpster filled with trash bags and buzzing flies. A chain link fence behind him. Bright lights. The sounds of honking cars and cussing passengers. Sounds of a typical New Jersey alley in a typical New Jersey night.
But everything up until this point was very atypical. Even though Chris couldn’t put his finger (claw?) on it. Was this a dream? That would definitely explain his hand looking like a cat’s paw. Then again, so would a bad trip. Had he really taken that much last night?
As these thoughts crossed the mobster’s mind, he found himself slowly walking, attempting to take in his surroundings. This was a habit he picked up from previous drug hallucinations and nightmares, though with mixed results.
His exploration was cut short as he stepped in a puddle. The wet sensation was the same as stepping with your bare feet onto something wet. This felt worse somehow.
Christopher had the same reaction of shaking his paw rapidly, holding it curled up above the ground once it was shook. Except now…he wanted to lick it clean?
Fuckin’ disgusting. He reminded himself. As if that would stop the temptation.
His train of thought was halted again when he caught a glimpse of his reflection.
Christopher looked back at two bright green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Framed around it was an intricate tabby pattern. Bright orange, you could tell even in this light. A small pink nose replaced his large one that he remembered being teased for. He even saw his own nostrils flexing in the reflection. Chris moved his head closer to the puddle. Not that he needed a better look, his vision was great. He supposed it was an alternate to pinching himself.
Once the damp feline nose collided with the water, Chris felt himself jump and his hair (fur?) involuntarily rising again.
Actually, when the ripples calmed, he saw his reflection. An angry, puffed up cat; like a Halloween decoration his mother had. His eyes looked entirely black now, much like his deep brown eyes from before this weirdness began. They began to shrink once he relaxed. His fur settled too.
Chris blinked. He continued to stare at his own reflection. Maybe part of him thought he would snap out of it. But minutes passed, and the cat was still there. Looking back at him. He looked back at the cat.
This is some fucking trip…