From Geek to Beast

Part 4

The house was eerily quiet when they finally returned home. The clock on the kitchen wall glowed 3:00 AM in cold blue light, and the air felt thick with exhaustion. Allison barely remembered the ride home from the hospital. Her mother had been silent the entire drive, her hands tight on the steering wheel, her eyes darting nervously to the rearview mirror every few seconds.

Allison couldn't blame her. She wasn't sure what was happening to her either. It felt like a fever dream—pain, confusion, and a wound that wouldn't stop throbbing. Every step she took was heavy, but at the same time, there was a strange weightlessness in her chest, like something was... shifting.

When they walked inside, her mother didn't hesitate. "Go to bed, honey," she said gently, guiding Allison toward the stairs. "You need rest. I'll let you stay home tomorrow, just until we know you're okay."

Allison didn't argue. She didn't feel like arguing. She could barely keep her eyes open. Her body ached, her mind swam with fragmented thoughts, and the world around her seemed to blur as she made her way up to her room.

She barely heard her mother call from downstairs. "I'll check on you in the morning."

Allison just nodded, pulling her oversized hoodie off and slipping into her bed. Her sheets were soft, and the familiar comfort of her room seemed to make everything feel... distant. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and before she could even register the thought, she was asleep.

When she woke, it was late morning. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting faint lines across her bedroom. The room was warm, but not unbearably so, and yet, Allison felt an intense heat coursing through her body, spreading from her chest and radiating outward. She could feel it even in her fingertips, the sensation like being bathed in warm sunlight, but it wasn't just external—it was internal, as if her entire body was burning from the inside.

Confused and dizzy, she pushed herself up, the heat continuing to pulse beneath her skin. The burn didn't hurt—it was more like the discomfort of a fever, but it was unlike anything she had ever felt. It felt like it was changing her. She stumbled toward the bathroom, needing a shower, needing something to cool her down.

As she stepped into the bathroom, she flicked on the light and stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection was a blur at first, the usual tired eyes and pale face too familiar. She rubbed her face with one hand, trying to shake off the grogginess. But when she looked again—really looked—her eyes went wide.

The woman staring back at her wasn't the Allison Becka she had known her whole life.

Her skin was smoother, clearer—vibrant, even. Her face had a glow to it, and the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared. Her body... was different. Her once-round features, her chubby cheeks, the soft, awkward curves—all of it had changed. The excess weight that had always been a part of her—like a cloak she could never shed—was gone. She stared, unblinking, at the new shape of her body. She was slim—so much slimmer than she remembered—and she had the body of someone who'd worked out relentlessly, toned muscles where there had once been softness.

Her legs were lean, her arms slender, her stomach flat. She ran a hand down her side, the sensation of her body feeling completely foreign to her. Her hips were narrower, her chest less full, but it was all in the right proportions. She was... beautiful.

Too beautiful.

Her breath caught in her throat as she turned this way and that, checking every inch of her reflection. She touched her face, her arms, as if making sure it was real.

How was this possible?

The heat she had felt earlier still simmered beneath her skin, but now it was fading into something else—something she couldn't explain. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it. Was this... the wolf bite? Could it have done this to her? Was it some kind of mutation? But that didn't explain why she felt so... alive.

She turned off the shower and stared at herself again, the steam filling the room, making the mirror fog up slightly. Her reflection was a stranger's, someone more confident, more vibrant. More perfect.

But she wasn't perfect. She couldn't be. She had never been perfect.

She stepped out of the bathroom, her head spinning. She needed to tell someone, but she didn't know who. What could she even say? That she had just woken up skinny and radiant? That she felt like a different person, inside and out? Her heart raced at the thought.

She could hear her mother downstairs, talking to Leah. The usual sounds of breakfast—the clink of silverware, Leah's laugh that always seemed too loud, too carefree. It was a reminder of everything she had been—and everything she now wasn't.

Before she could think further, her mother's voice floated up the stairs, calling her name.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Allison's hand gripped the doorknob tightly. She could feel the change in her body, the uncertainty in her heart. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to face them. Was this real? Was it even possible? She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

But as she stepped into the hallway, the answer seemed clear.

She had no choice but to find out what had happened to her—what this bite had really done—and what she was going to become.