A dark haired, unassuming form ducked through a deserted hall in near silence and complete darkness, darting from one pedestal to the next as it flashed deeper into the structure by the minute in careful leaps and bounds. The form had a name, Wes Holland had been planning this for years – a lifetime, really. The greatest heist of his lifetime, an irreplaceable artifact said to give those who held it with sufficient desire and reverence power beyond men. 

 It was something he had obsessed over since he was a child, something he had had calling to him from this very hall almost his entire life. Millions of thoughts, thousands of plans, serious and criminal to silly and childlike alike. His eyes remained transfixed upon its’ small display pedestal across the cavernous space, positioned beneath the skylights. It was little more than a polished pebble the size of his palm, a carefully carved chimerical fetish, a mess of myriad animals on cold, dark stone. 

 Unassuming as it may have been, it was the central focus of several legends, and more than one war in humanity’s past – something that had the man convinced there had to be something more to it, on top of its’ continued valuation even in the modern day, when it was generally regarded as hocus pocus. 

 It was off-putting, if he was honest, how quiet it was in the halls. He’d only seen a single guard in his entire trek into the depths, confusion settling more deeply by the minute. This was the largest museum in the country, housing countless items worth more than his brain could fathom, and yet they seemed totally unvalued, ripe for the taking. 

 An offer that while he wasn’t going to overestimate his situation and get careless, was more tantalizing with every inch he crossed towards the small, clinically sculpted pedestal. It had been moved to this hall originally to renovate its usual home, placed in an easier access point temporarily, and that been a decision they would shortly regret. 

 Close enough his hands were starting to twitch and shake, details he’d only seen a handful of times in person getting near enough to fully make out, salivating from adrenaline as his heart raced, he made his final move. Skulking across the remaining marble flooring in a fluttering of black cloth, he lifted glass with clammy hands, setting it aside with little more than a hollow clunk. 

 Shivering with the rush of excitement and trepidation signifying the point of no return, the man reached out with trembling hands and a heart beating like an engine, thrumming out all other sounds while cold sweat peeked from between his pores. A wispy, stuttering breath was all that left his form, echoing across silent walls as he made contact with the stone, deceptive warm and light, he cradled it with the careful reverence that only obsession and adoration would allow, wide eyes darting across its’ visage, drinking every last detail as though he had been days without water. 

 He’d touched it, held it – it was in his possession, and it was never going to leave it again. His vision closed in and distorted as the revelation settled, his heart and mind struggling to cope with all of the excitement. 

 And then there was a loud, soul rending pop in his ears, simultaneously near silent and loud enough to deafen as his entire body seemingly jumped and vibrated with its’ sheer force. Suddenly the rush was gone, only the sweat remaining to signify it had ever existed, quietly seeping heat away from his skin as it evaporated in the empty hall.

 Clicks met his ears an instant later, loud and heavy, like the hardened sole of boots. Closing rapidly, though not in a rush. He froze as he debated his options. It was a patrol, coming towards the hall he was in – the stone would have be put back, if only for a moment – if he could get past the guard after they’d left, he would be home free, but he needed them to think that nothing had happened at all. 

 With seconds left before the guard rounded the corner, he snatched up the glass and replaced it carefully atop the pedestal, moving his hand to place the stone back in its’ wire mounting. 

 Except the stone wasn’t in his hand. 

 His heart stopped and he choked on his own saliva as he searched desperately in the area around him, looking for anywhere he might’ve dropped it, horrified that he’d done such a thing, even though he wasn’t aware of doing so – maybe that popping feeling had been something more concerning than he’d ever realized. Unfortunately his search was entirely fruitless, unable to spot it anywhere around the pedestal, and he was out of time. He ducked behind the block of stone.

 Not a second too soon, as he found out when he’d barely managed to stop rustling before the clicks rounded the corner, and entered the same hall. A beam of light swept lazily across the wall in front of him, and didn’t return as the steps continued on their rounds, entirely uninterested. They hadn’t even slowed. 

 He risked a peek around the stone, and nearly failed to stifle the gasp of confused horror at what greeted his eyes. Some kind of mythical beast wearing the clothing of a night guard, clearly made to fit, same with the equipment they carried, and yet somehow their legs were bent awkwardly, almost broken looking, supporting a strangely blocky form and beefy neck that carried a head adorned with pronged horns and a long muzzle. His brain took a few seconds to even register that the figure was furred, a large pink mass bulging from their stomach lining, at first he’d considered the fact he was now locked in the space with some kind of monster – a minotaur, maybe – but the longer he stared, the less sense it made. 

 Their entire body was like a cows’, simply walking on two legs, tail swishing in annoyance as they clicked down the hall with a lazy hand rolling the flashlight back and forth in almost imperceptible motions. As though this all was totally normal. As if they’d always been that way. 

 His head spun at the mere thought of it, a new species to science was walking around this museum, under everyone’s noses, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary past the fact they were employing a monster. It was baffling to the extreme, madness in full. 

 And yet it was real, as real as he could reach out and touch it. 

 As real as the burning weight on his ankle, something that hadn’t registered until now, but increasingly encroaching upon his psyche as the heat radiated past uncomfortable and towards pain. Looking down at his left leg he found the offending object, a familiar polished stone, in an unfamiliar form. A solid stone anklet encircled his ankle, unbroken. Confusion and alarm blossomed, how had that gotten there without him seeing it? Where had the artifact he’d been holding gone? He couldn’t simply accept what in front of his eyes, or even what had been as the clicks continued down the hall out of sight.  

 An unhelpful part of his brain was already prodding his mind with a confusing and concerning question, that of if he was dead or otherwise incapacitated – if he was simply dreaming or hallucinating what he had just seen, if he’d been caught and had someone sneak up on him. It would’ve explained the strange pop. 

 Unfortunately his unsaid question was answered only the generation of more as the heat the anklet was generating began to spread through his body, an epicenter forming in his core before it distributed elsewhere in waves. The intensity only grew with every pulse, every new heartbeat, and every breath. Within seconds, something was burning at him from the inside, leaving Wes to clutch at his chest and stand, anything to get away from the sensation. 

 Leaning against the chest-height pedestal was the only true option, crumpling against the small rim that surrounded and positioned the glass over it as something incredibly wrong pulled at his body. 

 A body that was distorting in small fits and spurts, flesh twitching and twisting beneath his skin as it began to change. First, his thumbs began to fuse to his pointer fingers, his wrists growing to more fluidly transition into his arms. His toes, in comparison, were fusing in two pairs, while the remaining big toe pulsed and inflated as though being filled with flesh from the inside, his entire foot lengthening awkwardly along with his toes. 

 His shoes rapidly running out of space, he kicked at them awkwardly, pawing at what he could reach in a fumbling panic, any way to get them off, even while his brain failed to process the fact he could simply untie them. The wasted seconds would have been vital, as the faux leather began to strain, constricting an appendage that demanded release. 

 Nails fell away in the tight space, only for new, sharp claws to sprout in their stead, pressing increasingly at the straining material from within. The creaking footwear didn’t offer much resistance against the new stress risers, tearing through at the apex within seconds with a shred of fabric and rubber. 

 The tearing made his heart stop. What had emerged from the gaping wound in what he had been wearing when he walked in were not his own feet. They were alien, dark and sickly looking, far too wide and tipped with long claws that didn’t belong. The only thing he could process was that he was hallucinating, he had to have been – there must be fumes from the nearby construction site, or maybe in the glass casing that had held the artifact, a strange anti-theft device. 

 Whatever was happening, he couldn’t possibly fathom or entertain the fact that it may be real. Unnoticed was how his back had to bend increasingly to lean on the stone block for balance, what had once been a want for comfort becoming relied on as it rapidly went from chest height to hip height, joined by pointed pain.  

 The root of his tailbone twitched and exploded with discomfort in time with the waves of warmth, pressing at his belt, and then the seat of his pants in a snaking, increasingly strange sensation. Something was snaking slowly down his pantleg, all while the same extension of his body forced its’ way against his belt, sending it digging into his hips more by the second. Hips that were widening, only worsening the situation. 

 Straining denim creaked and protested as it was filled to and then beyond capacity within moments, thighs and rear rising like dough while a newly minted tail lengthened and ballooned beside them. Seams popped and split, textile flayed, and within seconds the clothing was entirely reduced to tatters. His belt, however, had been holding on strong – what lay below it, had not. 

 His crotch burned and tightened strangely, a tightening that he felt into his stomach, unlike any cramp he’d felt in his life. Among it, his genitals began to reshape and recede, sliding away from straining cloth and inverting into a simplified opening, joined in short order by the migration of the only other opening in the area. Internally, his guts writhed and twisted, bulging and lengthening awkwardly, causing his stomach to start bloating with their increased volume. 

 On the exterior, he was leaning low to hold onto the pedestal, starting to give under his rapidly increasing weight while his hips continued to rise, now higher than his shoulders had been minutes before and continuing to grow. The new extension to his spine, a rigid and muscular tail, was the sole reason he hadn’t fallen, standing high in the air as it lengthened, gained mass, and stiffened. Leaving a clear view of a newly restructured, if oddly positioned cloaca. 

 A pained grunt left his mouth as his ribs creaked and cracked outwards, lengthening as everything pressed them outwards, his head beginning to explode in pain and tension. The worst headache he’d ever had, and it was only getting worse. 

 Small clinks made him jump with a huff, nearly losing balance as his eyes shot downwards, mouth hanging open in a mixture of shock, discomfort, and horror. The teeth was increasingly littered with small white caltrops, still neatly tinted pink from their previous home – his jaw. 

 His teeth were falling out. He was losing his teeth. He was losing his mind. 

 A mantra that only redoubled as he looked down at arms that were no longer his own. Misshapen, muscular, and stiff, they had rotated forwards from their usual positions, and their range of motion wasn’t allowing him to get a proper look, only worsening with his strange point of view and the increased awkwardness of them not having grown with the same rate as the rest of his body. 

 His vision shook as his face stretched without warning, brows rising and sprouting new protrusions while his mouth pressed forwards, skull stretching skin and muscle that shifted in waves. Bone cracked, twisted, grew and lengthened, his perception vibrating and fading in and out with the rearrangement of his ears and eyes. Each lurch brought a new shift, strong blade-like teeth replacing what he’d only recently lost, a horn bursting through skin where his nose had once been, nostrils long since migrated further down what had become a snout. His brows formed similar ridges of bone and keratin, rigid osteoderms riding down his spine in a singular row from the back of his head nearly to the end of his tail. 

 The disorientation and fear finally won, strange calm turning to panic as a different pressure built in his core, oblong, football like orbs stacking in his core one at a time, nearly a foot in length. It wasn’t long before a different kind of stretch was assaulting his skin, weight pulling it low, spreading it until it pressed at his thighs. 

 The lowered center of balance wasn’t enough to stop blind panic from sending his form cascading onto the stone pillar, three times its’ height at the hip. It shattered beneath his, or rather her, weight, a mass of writhing scales and flying claws. 

 The cow that shouldn’t have been came flying around the corner, hearing the commotion, stopping mid lament only to stop and yelp, making her presence known.

 Dinosaurs were supposed to be bones in the next hall over, not flesh and blood – not stopping to stare directly at her, reaching with strange, too small arms, and requesting assistance. 

 The clangs of a flashlight hitting marble and loud retreating clacks were all that could be heard afterwards. And something in the ex-holland’s brain clicked. 

 Unstable legs kicked and shifted, rolling her weight onto wide feet before pushing them beneath her center of mass, and lifting it into the air. There was prey to be had, even if her brain was screaming for assistance, to undo whatever it was.
 
 Claws dug into marble while a bellowing voice shattered the silence, somewhere between a growl, a roar, and a sheepish call of “W-Wait!” and powerful legs sent over two tons of reptile into an unstable sprint on polished floors. 

 For the inexperience with every single muscle in the chain, her movements were doing surprisingly well on instinct alone, sliding into the natural history wing with a cacophony of shattering stone, her only shared soul in the space coming into sight at the opposite end. 

 Desperate to close the distance to a more reasonable talking range, she crossed the hall in a rush, only for the new instincts to finally fail, logic breaking through having dislodged the muscle memory that didn’t belong. It was then that motions broke, and she stumbled, careening head over tail, slamming into a wire armature intended for a new exhibit, which immediately entangled the confused and panicking reptile. Each struggle only wrapped herself more tightly and awkwardly, until her feet were barely able to reach the ground among the bramble. 

 Threat neutralized, and panic slowly fading into indignant shame, she had only one request remaining. “I-I need some help.” She mumbled, voice weakened by the awkwardness of the situation she’d managed to put herself into. Of all the things, the thief had become an exhibit.

 As if she hadn’t experienced enough embarrassment and fear in the moment, her stomach once again gurgled to life, swelling noticeably as more football-like shells clicked and fell into place, the wires that suspended and entangled her straining as her weight rose by the second – before it stopped with a painful clenching cramp and small deluge of fluid. 

 She’d barely had time to breathe, to even process what had happened, what was going on with her already alien body, when the contractions repeated themselves, this time pressing a large, white bulge against her cloaca. It snaked through her tunnels rapidly, and less than a minute later, it was crowning.