# The Fox’s Treasure
The window opened smoothly on greased hinges, allowing a dark form to slink in from the shadows outside. It dropped to the floor, revealing itself to be a Nickit. It crept stealthily around dusty shelves and old wooden crates, eyes darting back and forth.
No alarms. No guards inside the room.
Could it really be this easy?
Alright, Glenn, he thought to himself, Get in, get out. Easy.
Or at least he hoped it would be.
He allowed himself to relax a little, though he continued to strain his ears for the sounds of approaching footfalls. After a long moment, when he was satisfied he’d been undetected, he began to examine the contents of the room he found himself in. It was a kind of old storeroom, long-untouched if the layers of dust were anything to go by. Boxes were stacked in haphazard piles, old crates and barrels in various states of decay were pushed into the corners, and some of the shelves leaned crazily, threatening to topple over at any moment. Glenn noted those. He’d have to be extra careful not to touch them, or the resulting crash would have the whole town down on him in a heartbeat.
Though the place didn’t seem like much, Glenn had it on good authority that some real treasures were hidden here in this musty old building, and they were due to be moved again soon to who-knows-where, so he’d had to plan quickly. He needn’t have troubled himself so much, however. There had only been one security guard on duty, an old Arcanine who was probably large and imposing, but he’d been snoring loudly as Glenn had snuck his way past. There was an alarm pad by the door, but a loose window seemed to have been overlooked. Sloppy. Negligent, even. He’d expected the window to be wired, too, but to his surprise, it opened without protest, though he’d had to coax the hinges a little. It had been too easy. Maybe his intel had been wrong after all. It wouldn’t be the first time. Surely there could be nothing of any real value in this decrepit dump. Glenn frowned to himself. If that were true, he’d wasted not just one night but also the entire day before with preparations, though he supposed he should be grateful not to have been caught in any case. He’d might as well give the place a good once-over, though, just in case.
He nosed through several ruined boxes, finding little of interest. Water damage had ruined many of the clothes and books that had been stored here, and more than once he had to stifle a sneeze from the dust clouds he dislodged. Maybe this place had been worthwhile once, but those days seemed long gone. He sighed and turned to make his way back outside when he suddenly noticed a detail he’d almost missed. In the far corner, the dust had been partially cleared away around one particular stack of crates. Recent activity? The Nickit tried to push the large wooden boxes out of the way, but they were quite heavy, and he grunted in exertion. His efforts were finally rewarded as the stack slid a few inches to the left, grinding against the stone floor, and Glenn flopped down next to them, panting hard. The resulting gap was just barely wide enough for him to slip through, but when he saw what lay on the other side, his eyes widened.
A large wooden chest sat pushed into the corner, hidden away. It had a flat top and paneled sides, more like a piece of bedroom furniture than a pirate’s treasure chest, but the huge heavy iron padlock on it told him that whatever lay inside was likely valuable all the same. He plucked a lockpick from his tail and set to work. First he poked and prodded the thing all over, checking for secret booby traps. He’d been speared by a hidden needle once, and the resulting illness had left him bedridden for days. It was an experience he was not eager to repeat. The mechanisms inside were thick and heavy, and his little lockpick almost bent itself out of shape trying to move them, but eventually he got the inner workings arranged just right, and the lock sprang open. Success. Glenn laid it carefully on the floor and gently raised the lid.
He wasn’t sure exactly what he had expected to find. Fine clothes, maybe. Silver dishes. Old pocketwatches. His source had only mentioned that there were “some kinna artifact or somethin’” Bound for a black market buyer, no doubt. After all, if it were going to a proper museum, why hide it away in a dilapidated building near the edge of town? Surely, then, it would be just as well if it walked away in the middle of the night. But he hadn’t been prepared at all for this.
It was a real treasure, right out of a fantasy picturebook. Gold coins almost glittered even in the dim light and gemstone-studded jewelry nearly sparkled. He stared in shock and amazement for a long while. All this was just hidden right here, in some hole-in-the-wall back room, barely even guarded? Just one guard and a padlock? It was incredible, in every sense of the word. He wouldn’t have believed it if anyone had told him. Maybe that was the idea. He plucked one of the coins and weighed it in his paw. It felt heavy enough to be real gold, though he couldn’t really be sure without a proper scale. He bit the coin experimentally and, sure enough, left a little tooth mark right near the rim. Soft. Soft was good. Soft meant precious metals, not cheap alloys.
Glenn glanced around the room again. He half expected a dozen armed guards to suddenly burst in from all directions, but there was only the faint whistling sound of the breeze blowing past the open window. He was tempted to imagine what he’d do with all the money this must be worth, but he scolded himself.
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.
Now that he’d found the loot, he had to get it out of here, and there was only one way he was going to manage that. This was what half of his preparations had been for. He hadn’t eaten for two days, and he’d drunk several doses of a special concoction he’d created. It always made him feel sick, but the results were undeniable. It was his secret smuggling method. Undetectable. Well, mostly.
The Nickit took a deep breath…and shoveled a pawful of coins into his mouth.
They jingled softly against each other as his cheeks bulged, and he swished them around a bit before trying to wash them down, back into his throat.
Gllllrrrppkk.
He huffed, mouth now empty, feeling the coins landing heavily in his stomach. He pressed a paw to his belly, but they were imperceptible.
Good. There were a lot more.
He stuffed another pawful of coins into his maw, hesitating only a moment before swallowing those down, too. Then another. And another. And another.
Gulllllp. Gllllnk. Glrrrrk.
A pearl necklace slipped down his throat with the next batch, and then several rings with glittering gemstones. Glenn huffed and felt his stomach again. He already felt heavy, and he was only halfway there. His stomach groaned in protest, and he gave it a reassuring pat.
He’d have one hell of a stomachache after this, but he told himself that untold riches were probably worth it and pushed himself on.
Grab. Gulp. Grab. Gulp.
Bit by bit the rest of the treasure was relocated to the inside of the Nickit’s stomach, which was sagging heavily now. He jingled when he moved, though the sound was very muffled and faint. He panted. He hadn’t been prepared to find this much. Normally he’d surreptitiously swallow a valuable item or two to sneak them away with none the wiser, but this was…excessive. A lot more than he’d ever taken before.
A bubbly gurgle came from his gut, and the Nickit covered his mouth with a paw to muffle a belch. Almost done. A large round-cut pink gemstone stared back at him from the bottom of the chest, and Glenn hesitated. Something about it felt strange…ominous, even. It sparkled brightly, as if lit from within somehow, and as he stared he could swear there were swirling patterns deep inside it. It was mesmerizing.
He crashed hard back into reality as the sound of footsteps echoed in the other room, just beyond the still-locked door. Glenn’s heart raced. Someone had gotten suspicious, and that meant his time was up. He grabbed the large gem and stuffed it hard into his mouth, wedging it past his jaws and trying to swallow it down all in one motion. He gagged as it stuck in his throat, and he swallowed and struggled as he stumbled back towards the window he’d come in from.
GLLLUNK.
He let out a soft sigh as the large object squeezed down, stopping painfully in his chest before finally dropping into his stomach with the rest. He could both hear and feel the rattle as it landed amongst everything else he’d eaten. Glenn clambered up onto a table and winced at the jingling and clinking coming from inside him. This might be more difficult than he’d thought. Maybe in his greed he’d pushed himself too far. He heard the telltale beeping of a keypad code being entered.
It was too late to turn back now.
It was a monumental effort just to finish climbing back up to the window he’d entered in, and he was afraid for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to fit through, but with some squeezing, and many protesting gurgles from his stomach, he managed to force his way back out into the cold night air. With such heavy steps it was much more difficult to walk quietly, and even with his stomach sounds muffled he feared detection.
A shout came through the window behind him, and he quickly darted away. He barreled past the guard station and saw that it was empty this time. No sign of the Arcanine. Which was just as well, since he didn’t fancy his chances in a fight with a big heavy weight in his stomach slowing him down. An alarm rang out behind him, but it was too late now. The Nickit slipped off into the night, a very heavy dark shape crawling from shadow to shadow through alleyways and across empty streets.
Despite his relative lack of stealth, he arrived back at his hideout without further incident. He hadn’t encountered a single other Pokémon wandering the streets at night, something he was thankful for. The last thing he needed now was staring and awkward questions. Witnesses. Glenn locked and bolted the door behind him and, when satisfied it was nice and secure, collapsed onto a large beanbag cushion.
UUUuuuorrp.
He blushed as built-up air escaped from his mouth, his stomach trying to churn around his heavy “meal.” It groaned loudly, bubbling as it worked, and Glenn massaged it with one paw, drawing out the soft sounds of metal clinking against metal. He’d never felt this heavy before, though he supposed a pile of gold would do that. He must be the most valuable Nickit in the world right now. Though he wasn’t looking forward to getting all of it back out again…
He breathed deeply and looked up at the small rectangular window. The curtains were drawn, but he could see that dawn was still pretty far away. He felt exhausted. Carrying his loot home had been murder on his short legs. The Nickit let out a huge yawn and slumped lower over the beanbag. He told himself he’d just close his eyes for a few moments, then drag himself into bed properly, but the instant he laid his head down, he fell into a deep dream-filled sleep.
---
He dreamed he was a Caterpie, inching his way along a branch, nibbling the leaves he passed. He’d freeze each time a bird flew past, and then resume his sluggish routine again soon after. He needed to eat. Soon he lost himself in the sensation of eating, first leaves, then twigs and branches. He ate and ate. Forest creatures. Entire trees. It took a long time before he finally felt satisfied, and began to spin a cocoon around himself, changing himself slowly into a Metapod.
In this new form he could barely move. He still felt full of food, so he waited out the seasons as year after year started to whirl past. No other Pokémon disturbed him. Metapods weren’t good prey, they were too tough to bother with. Better to go for something softer, more worth the effort.
Ages passed, the changing seasons became a blur, but finally he felt a strange sensation that drew his attention back to the present. His belly tingled, and he wiggled all around, swaying from side to side until suddenly, with a loud crack, he split open. He spread his new wings as a Butterfree, still wet and slowly drying in the warm sun. He flew up and up, higher and higher, and the sun kept getting warmer and warmer. In fact, his entire body was warm. Unpleasantly hot.
And then he woke up.
---
Glenn’s eyes opened slowly and he groaned. His whole body really did feel warm, feverish even, and a shiver ran all through him. He tingled, and his head was pounding. He imagined this must be what a hangover felt like. He pushed himself up to his unsteady paws and tried to remember what he’d been doing the previous night. Drowsiness and the remnants of his strange, vivid dream clouded his mind.
UUUUuuuooorrrph.
A huge amount of air escaped from his mouth all at once, and he suddenly remembered. The treasure! He looked down at himself and froze.
His body was not as he remembered it.
His reddish-brown fur was gone. Soft hot pink fluff had somehow taken its place, with creamy white markings instead of black. He also realized, his cheeks reddening intensely, that he was somehow now actually a she. A glistening slit now peeked out from between his hind legs where his fuzzy sheath had once been.
And more than that, the treasure was gone.
His belly was as smooth and flat as it had been days ago, with no sign of its former contents anywhere. He pressed at it, but felt nothing. It was empty.
Where had all that treasure gone? Surely he couldn’t have digested it. It wasn’t the first time he’d swallowed gold or gemstones, and he knew his stomach acids couldn’t even strip away the top layer. But it was gone all the same. His stomach growled softly, calling to be filled again, apparently uncaring.
He gulped nervously.
He began to pace around the room, and as he did so he noticed a lot of other things were now missing, too. The couch cushions were gone, as was the remote for his small TV. His refrigerator was empty, bare shelves staring forlornly back at him. Even the bottles and cartons had vanished. His cupboards were similarly bare, cans and boxes having disappeared along with everything else. A quick survey of his bedroom revealed that it had been similarly emptied. His wall clock was gone. All his scarf and sock drawers were empty. The pillows and blankets were missing from his mattress, too, and the corners were even frayed by what looked like teeth marks.
Had he been robbed? But that didn’t quite make sense. The door was still locked and barred, exactly how he’d left it. The window didn’t even open–he’d sealed it a long time ago–and it hadn’t been broken at all. His stomach growled at him again.
Glenn felt dizzy. At first he thought it must be shock, but the hot sensation returned, and he began to feel heavy. He panted, trying to cool himself off, dragging himself over to the kitchen sink and drinking straight from the tap when he realized that his belly was starting to swell all on its own. An inquisitive press revealed the presence of several small, round objects inside, but they didn’t stay small for long. They were growing quickly, weighing him down and making him feel full. So full. He squirmed, pressing at them helplessly as he dropped to the floor, but they kept right on growing. Soon his little legs were kicking at the air as his paws left the ground, his stomach so huge now that he couldn’t even stand. He let out a whimper, when he felt a sudden shift of pressure inside him.
It wasn’t his stomach.
They were eggs.
Fluids leaked from the Nickit’s slit as he whined, feeling the first of those large round shapes starting to force itself out of him. His muscles contracted, instincts somehow taking over…instincts he didn’t know he’d had. He pushed, straining hard, his new slit not used to the stretching, but he felt the first egg moving, squeezing past his hips, exposing itself bit by bit to the outside air, and then…
Pop.
He squealed as that egg almost shot out of him, rolling across the floor. His relief was short-lived, however. Another was already on its way out. Maybe even another behind it.
Squeeze. Push. Squeeze. Push.
Pop.
They were very insistent.
He laid egg after egg, completely losing count of them all, so stretched and tired, his muscles protesting the endless effort. It didn’t hurt, though, at least not more than any other strenuous activity. In fact it almost felt…good. The Nickit blushed intensely as he realized he actually rather enjoyed the feeling. It was nice to be so full, but even nicer to push the eggs out, feel them exit his body, lessening the weight inside him with each one.
He moaned out loud as the last one finally pushed its way out, leaving him a blushing mess on the floor, gasping for breath. It took a while before he could even turn his head. There were eggs everywhere, all over the floor where they’d rolled as he’d laid them, glistening softly with half-dried fluids.
And they were all gold.
From what he could see, they were all identical, at least on the outside. Glenn pulled himself upright and staggered over to the nearest one. The egg was heavy, much heavier than he’d expected it to be, and his sore muscles struggled to lift it at all.
It was heavy like gold.
Solid gold.
The fox who laid the golden egg. Or twenty.
He began to laugh. It was a soft chuckle at first, but soon he was lying on the ground, rolling back and forth, his body shaking with laughter. He laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he had to wipe them away. He couldn’t tell if he’d finally gone crazy, or if it really was just that funny. Maybe both. After all, who would ever believe him?
After a long while, he finally rolled himself over and began to gather all the eggs into one corner. They were nearly too heavy to pick up, so he settled for rolling them across the floor. He counted twenty-one in all.
Twenty-one solid gold eggs.
Sure they weren’t coins or jewels, but they’d be worth a fortune all the same.
Each.
His stomach growled and he looked down at it. He’d almost forgotten that he had no food. Or that his fur was hot pink now. And he was a girl, and he had no idea how to change back.
He blinked as he realized this meant that nobody would recognize him now. His criminal record, gone, just like that. He could start over. He’d need a new name, and a new place to live, but if he kept the eggs secret, only sold a few at a time, he’d probably be set for life. But first, he reminded himself, he needed some real food. He looked over the pile of golden eggs one more time and shook his head, still half-disbelieving.
There was so much he was going to have to get used to.