Sounds of shouting and the clashing of swords were the first things that welcomed me upon awakening. I had thought it strange, recalling my jump from the window, to be hearing things once again.

I almost assumed that I was in a hospital bed somewhere, hooked up to an IV with my brain creating strange hallucinations. That was until a pain like no other racked my body. It felt as though every cell in my body was being separated from eachother and grafted back on again.

I tried to let out a scream but all that could be heard was shallow wheezing. I could feel that my eyes were wide open as I writhed in what I could only assume was dirt, yet I couldn’t see anything at all. Subconsciously, my arms flicked out to the side, my fingers digging into the coarse ground as my torso arched it self into the air, involuntarily.

A burning itch scratched at my eyes; colour started to permeate into my vision. The juxtaposition of red and blue danced in my field of vision. The pain that had previously assaulted my body was fading and my mind was racing to figure out what the hell was going on.

Unfamiliar sensations littered my collapsed form. My sight had returned enough for me to identify what it was I was looking at. The azure sky above, marred only by what I could only assume was blood that had pooled over my right eye. The sounds of battle in the background were drowned out by my own mind, screaming for answers. I lifted my arm to wipe the blood out of my eye.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. The hand that greeted me upon lifting it to my face was not my own. There is something surreal about not recognising something that should be as familiar as the back of your hand. It was much smaller, yet calluses littered the palms and dried blood caked each fingertip which were pointed with dangerously sharp claws.

I could feel each pulse of my more powerful heart in my chest. The thumping of blood in my head only grew louder and quicker as I began to observe myself and my surroundings.

People wearing crude, seemingly makeshift protective gear fought against soldiers clad in uniform, shining armour. We were in the middle of what seemed to be a small encampment.

Looking down at myself, still in a daze, I was barely able to process what I saw. Deeply tanned skin, wrought with scars, mud, and splatters of blood. I felt my breath hitch as I looked down into my subtle cleavage… I had cleavage.

If the fact that I was in between some kind of medieval battle between a group of what looked like stereotypical bandits and knights wasn’t enough to freak me out. Nor the fact that I was covered in blood in a body that definitely wasn’t my own; not to mention directly after experiencing the most excrutiating pain imaginable – the realisation that I had breasts made my mind jerk to a halt.

I forced myself to drag my hands towards my crotch, to confirm a truth I could already feel based on the unfamiliar emptiness between my legs. There was a sense of complete wrongness; nerves that had never existed before relaying information to my mind that it had never processed before. My body felt completely alien to me.

The shock of these foreign sensations caused me to jump to my feet. My centre of gravity was entirely different to before, causing me to stumble forward. Thankfully, my tail shot out and allowed me to remain upright.

I did a double take. My… tail? A long, shaggy tail, covered in so much grime and blood that you could barely make out its dark grey fur. It was attached to me above my apparently much larger rear. My hands shot up to my head to verify if my newest assumption was true; which it was: I could feel two large ears, which flicked back and forth at each shout of the soldiers.

“That bitch is still alive? I coulda sworn she kicked the bucket when you slit her throat, Sean.” My head snapped in the direction of the voice. The man’s words were in a language I had never heard yet understood as though I had spoken it my entire life.

Two men clad in silver armour walked towards me, separating themselves from the scuffle which had seemed to have come to a close. Unsure what to do, I raised my hands in a non-threatening manner.

I try to voice out a question to ask what the hell was going on, but yet again, all I could muster were quiet wheezes and snarls, causing me to burst into a coughing fit. Putting two and two together, I lowered one of my outstretched hands and rubbed along my slender neck, feeling a protruding scar.

My mind reeled in panic as I noticed one of the men unsheathe his sword. My legs primed themselves as I prepared to bolt, but I remained standing in place, trembling.

The man’s words ring in my mind: ‘Bitch’? Who the fuck does he think he is? A word that I had never given much thought before sets off a reaction in my body unlike anything I had ever felt before. I had always been a collected individual; I had been insulted to my face before, and I had always brushed it off.

A deep rumble reverberated through me as my mangled vocal chords produced what could only be described as an inhuman growl. Without realising, I had crouched down, as if ready to leap at a moments notice; I could feel the muscles in my face forming a scowl.

“C’mon Davey, look what you’ve done.” He said, between barks of forced laughter. “She was probably pissed enough that we put down all of her comrades. Oh well, scum like her deserve to be in a ditch anyway.”

At these words, I leaped. Blinded with fury that was not my own. Every inch of my body, fueled by a primal power that I couldn’t begin to fathom. They were dead men walking. I closed the distance between myself and the two men in less than a second. A flash of disgust, horror, and… glee filled my heart as I sunk my teeth into the throat of one of the men.

The taste of his agony was exhilarating to this body, and in turn, to me. An intense, perverse desire to maul his corpse began to seep into me as I stood, hunched over him. Thoughts that were not my own flashed through my head: regret, not for killing him – but for not making him suffer more; this regret was squashed by an intense sadness having killed a human for the first time through none of my own volition.

I managed to regain some semblance of control over myself and began to heave, hunched over with my hands on my knees. I shoved a bloody claw into my mouth and tried to force myself to throw up the chunk of flesh I had just swallowed.

Had I been paying more attention, I would’ve realised that I had completely forgotten about the other man. Not only that, I had failed to notice the platoon of the man I just killed’s friends staring at me. Each of their gazes filled with murderous rage.

“Death is a mercy she does not deserve!” One of them yelled.

“I couldn’t agree more.” The man, Davey, spoke directly next to me. He muttered something else under his breath and pointed his finger at me. I was immediately overcome with an insurmountable exhaustion and collapsed in a pile directly on top of the man I had just murdered. Once again, my world was black.