PART TWENTY THREE IS NOW CLOSED
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David rose from his chair, prompting a low murmur of excitement from most of the group, and beamed at the assembled boys. “We have a special announcement to make today,” he had begun. “Some of you may have already heard this news, because certain members of the Warblers” here, about half the room and David sent pointed, laughing looks at Jeff “have issues with the point of a confidentiality agreement, but we ask that everyone pay attention anyway, even if they have been spoiled for the outcome.” There was a scattering of good-natured chuckles and light ribbing directed at Jeff.
Kurt had blankly looked around the room in confusion, then turned to Blaine for a possible explanation. Blaine had just smiled warmly at him, though, before giving Kurt’s shoulder a quick squeeze. It seemed more demonstrative than the moment called for, but Kurt, though blushing like an idiot, wasn’t complaining.
“For the first time in sixty seven years,” David was continuing, “the Warbler Council has requested permission from the Dalton board for a new Canary - and the request was granted!” An uncharacteristically enthusiastic cheer rose up, those who had apparently not been up on the latest gossip taking a second longer to respond before they joined in raucously. Kurt clapped along for the sake of politeness despite his confusion, but found himself worrying about Pavarotti and whether it would mean a change in status for the bird. A faint buzzing sound came from Kurt’s bag, and he had to tune David out for a quick moment while he checked the text, only for it to be a warning of having used half his minutes for the month. Kurt rolled his eyes and vowed to talk to his dad again about getting a better plan. He tuned back in just in time to hear “…at the soonest opportunity. Requests will be accepted starting next week, though those with special clearance will, of course, have full access before then.”
Completely and utterly lost now, Kurt had started to elbow Blaine impatiently in the hopes of a recap, but Blaine was just grinning at him. For some reason, Blaine looked both proud and fond, as if Kurt had just achieved something wonderful. Kurt glanced around and saw, with growing confusion, that most of the room was giving him a similar look. He pasted on an awkward smile in response, but hissed out the side of his mouth, “Blaine! What’s going on, and why is everyone looking at me?”
Kurt felt Blaine’s hand return to his shoulder. Oddly, Blaine was smiling at him even more warmly than before, to the point of nearly tearing up. Blaine squeezed his shoulder again, but only said, “Congratulations, Kurt. It might be an adjustment at first, but this is a true honor as a Warbler. You’re going to be so much happier.”
Between the closeness to Blaine and the cryptic words, Kurt was more lost than ever, but before he could question Blaine or say anything else, there was a hand on his wrist. Kurt twisted around in surprise. David was there with two other Warblers; one was responsible for grabbing his arm, while the other was rolling up Kurt’s blazer and shirt sleeves and David was holding something he couldn’t quite make out. Kurt’s disbelief and confusion held him in place a second too long, and that second gave David long enough to hurry forward and plunge the object - a syringe - into his arm.
Kurt shouted out, but he only had time to yank his arm away and clap a hand over the injection site before a tingling began to spread from his arm to the rest of his body. Within seconds, his head was feeling fuzzy and the world became blurred at the edges and began to tilt. Kurt felt himself going limp and slumping down against the couch. His last sight was of the Warblers all standing and cheering like the prep school boys they were, and then his vision faded to black.
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Absently, Kurt rubbed at the still-sore patch on his arm where the needle had been jammed in. Now that he was upright, individual aches were becoming more obvious, and more worrying. A glance downward showed him that he hadn’t imagined it - the sore spot on his lower abdomen really was home to what looked like another tiny puncture mark. Almost numb from the bombardment of new terrors, Kurt glanced at the nearest mirror and twisted around to confirm that, yes, the similar aches on his lower back, each shoulder, and the nape of his neck were from yet more injections made while he was unconscious, and so were the areas of irritation on each ankle.
Kurt clenched his jaw and made himself walk to the cage door. He’d feel terrible about everything that had happened later, after he’d escaped and gotten to a doctor to deal with whatever they’d done to him.
Before he’d made it five feet, though, a sharp pain in his ankles dropped Kurt to his knees. A sound of pain escaped him, and he collapsed into a sitting position so he could lift a foot and see what was going on.
Nothing seemed wrong, at first. The injection site was redder than before and more irritated, but there was no sign of a new injury.
Then another round of pain shot through Kurt’s feet and ankles, and this time, it didn’t stop there. As Kurt watched, his uplifted foot began to twitch and twist in the air without his consent. To his horror, it began to deform before his eyes. The skin and muscles where his toes met the rest of the foot began to recede, making his toes lengthen grotesquely. Something was also going wrong with his toenails; he could see - and feel - them moving and reshaping until they were at the tips of his toes and shaped like claws.
Kurt knew that his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t let himself shout in pain or panic for fear of throwing up.
The changes to his feet weren’t stopping. He hadn’t noticed at first, but while his other toes were lengthening, the smallest one had receded until it was completely gone, and his heel had also shrunk a tiny bit. Kurt was almost hoping it was done, but his heel had only stopped changing size to change its angle with a sickening grind of bone and tendon that made Kurt finally yell out. When it was done, both his feet were held at an angle that would have allowed him to walk comfortably on his horrifying new toes, though they still obeyed his commands and Kurt could still at least move his feet around from their new angle.
Kurt found himself whimpering and closing his eyes tightly for a second, wrapping his arms around himself as if it would shield him from the inexplicable mutations his body was going through. A sudden itch spreading outward from the tips of his toes made Kurt open his eyes again, though - he didn’t know what was happening or how to stop it, but he’d at least face it like a man.
The itching, it turned out, was the result of scales growing to replace the skin from his new claws inward. Kurt’s breathing turned quick and faint, but he made himself watch the change progress. His remaining four toes were now nearly uniform in shape and size, although his big toe was somewhat shorter and, when the scales had reached up to the new junction of his toes and foot, his big toe gave another sickening grinding sound as it rotated inward. The change happened simultaneously to both feet no matter how Kurt tried to flex his toes to go back to how they were, and by the time it was done, he had three yellow-scaled toes facing forward, and one backward.
When the scales reached the rest of his foot, they didn’t seem to progress at first - but only because Kurt’s feet themselves were beginning to lengthen, as well. The distance between his ankle and toes increased steadily, until it was nearly the length of his calf, thin and bony and entirely covered in the dull yellow scales - just like a bird’s foot, Kurt realized with a chill.
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Kurt couldn’t stand up on his new feet, but after a few stumbles, he managed to get on his hands and knees and crawl to the cage door.
“Help!” he screamed, no longer caring if he drew negative attention instead of a savior. “Someone, let me out! Help!”
No one came.
There was a prickling along his calves, and Kurt looked down with an involuntary whimper to see translucent protrusions, things that had to be feather sheaths, sprouting from his skin along what used to be his ankle, where scales and human skin met. He had to shout in pain as the sheaths fully emerged, pushing through his skin. It was over quickly, at least, and the sheaths were shed within seconds of their appearance. They revealed feathers that unfurled, scattering the skin of his lower calves with yellow and brown plumage.
Kurt reached down to touch one of his feathers with morbid curiosity, but yanked his hand back at the silky feel, confirming the truth of his situation. His breathing was coming harder now, and sobs threatened. God, he was - deformed, now, and locked up, and…
His hands tingled, and Kurt knew it still wasn’t over.
He let out another cry and helplessly screamed for someone, anyone to come as the tingling intensified, and by the time his index and middle fingers began to lengthen, he was sobbing incoherently.
Kurt tried to hold his hands together in hopes of stopping the change, but all that achieved was a crunching pain when he tried to squeeze his lengthening fingers, and he let go, flinging his hands apart with a sobbed shout when his index and middle fingers snapped together and each pair began to fuse into a single long finger.
Kurt had to close his eyes now; the sight of his ring and pinky fingers shrinking into nothing was too much. Still, he could feel the changes progressing as he held his hands out and away from himself in disgust. His now-fused fingers had stopped growing and his thumbs had only shrunk slightly, but he could feel an odd release of pressure where his nail beds were - or, he saw as he opened his eyes to peek helplessly, where his nails used to be. An odd tight feeling took over his entire arms, and they began to thin, deforming and flattening. Kurt closed his eyes again with a whimper.
He knew what was coming next, and it was almost a relief when the pain of feathers sprouting started; at least he wouldn’t have to look at his alien, bare arms and hands.
Still, he had to grit his teeth unsuccessfully against a stuttering howl of pain at the sheaths poking through his skin again. The awful sensation covered a much larger area than before and it felt as if the sheaths just kept growing and growing to ridiculous lengths, forcing the process to last far longer than it had on his legs. When it finally finished, Kurt barely had time to breathe out before a series of painful snaps jerked his arms into a new position, realigning his joints. He could actually hear a rustle over his own cry as the sharp movement freed most of the new feathers at once.
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Sure enough, where his arms had been were a pair of wings, extended as if about to take flight. He felt faint. When Kurt went to move what had been his right hand, the end of a wing twitched. He was nearly hyperventilating now as he stared at the expanse of yellow feathers, broken by a scattering of duller brown plumes.
Kurt tried to put his hands - wings - on the floor so he could at least try crawling again before the changes went any further, but his new wings didn’t bend that way, and it took a second of experimentation to even fold them down against his sides and out of the way.
A crazy thought whispered to him, and Kurt laboriously extended his new wings again, and flapped them. Nothing happened. He tried again, harder, but only generated a strong breeze that whipped his hair around and almost blinded him with the last bits of dust from the disintegrated feather sheaths.
He coughed and dropped his head. Of course, he thought with another near-hysterical sob. Why would this change have given him a possible means of escape?
A tingle at the base of his spine made Kurt moan in pain and disbelief. Wasn’t what had already happened enough?
This time, the sting of feathers pushing their way out was more concentrated and went on for even longer, but when it ended, no further changes to the area were coming. Kurt let out a shaky exhale of relief. It was insane that growing a tail felt like a reprieve, but it managed to be the least horrifying of his mutations so far, and Kurt found himself almost glad of it.
Nothing more happened for the moment, and Kurt gathered himself together long enough to yell, “Help!” again. There was still no response, but he kept trying, eventually even knee-walking his way over to the bars clumsily and trying to bang on them with his wings. The movement took an unexpected amount of experimentation to manage, since his limbs no longer responded the way he expected, and he found himself sore and exhausted within minutes. A few feathers lay around him, broken off by the impacts, and he slumped back, only to jerk up when his bottom came in contact with his sharp-tipped new feet. Kurt groaned and leaned forward instead to rest his forehead against the bars, feeling tears of fear and frustration gather in his eyes.
God, what had happened to him?
A familiar tingle started at the nape of his neck.
Kurt jerked upright and stared unseeingly out through the bars. What else was going to happen to him?
As the tingle intensified, Kurt broke out of his frozen stupor and beat his wings against the bars again, screaming wildly for help, for escape, anything. “Please!” he yelled, “Someone, anyone, let me out! Please, oh my god, help me! Help!” In the middle of a ‘help,’ he felt his voice catch in his throat. He kept trying, but only a few more words escaped before they started to pitch higher and shriller. It felt like Kurt’s tongue wasn’t obeying his orders, and syllables became harder and harder to form.
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An accidental turn of his head showed Kurt his reflection in one of the many mirrors. He screamed again, the sound shrill and panicked, when he realized that he no longer even looked human - his reflection had always been a familiar constant from trying on clothes and outfits, critically examining himself from all angles, but this new appearance was alien. He had the wings, tail, and feet of a bird - a canary, his mind somewhat hysterically supplied - and now the voice of one. He broke down into sobs. It sounded more like grieving chirps now, and hearing himself only made it worse.
There was a feeling of tingling again, this time from just above his pelvis, and Kurt found himself staring downward in resigned horror, tears splashing against his belly.
God, he didn’t even know what birds had down there, Kurt realized numbly. The tingling felt as if it was dropping lower, finally settling in his balls, and Kurt accidentally made a sound like a bird’s shriek when he saw them starting to shrink and retract upwards into his body. The skin around them pulled tight, aiding their disappearance, and it was less than a second before the skin behind his cock was smooth and pink, with no sign his scrotum had ever existed. A sharp cramping inside made Kurt curl into himself, but he forced himself to keep staring blankly down at himself, terrified and somehow too proud to miss whatever was happening.
While his insides continued to feel like they were churning and pinching, his soft dick began to ache strangely. It started with another tightening of the skin where the base met his body, but then Kurt had to watch as his dick began to shrink, droplets hitting it and rolling off as tears dripped from his unblinking eyes. Soon, it was nearly flat against his skin - but then things became even stranger, because the area around his cock was altering, too, lifting into soft mounds on either side, filling the small space between his legs. Kurt could feel the process continuing farther back and out of his sight, and when he shifted his knees apart a little, he could see that the pair of mounds extended back towards his butt, and seemed pinker on the insides. His cock had almost entirely disappeared now, except for some odd protuberance where it had shrunk into, and there was a sharp pinch from near there for a second… And Kurt drew in a sharp whistling breath through his teeth as he caught glimpse of something like a very small recess into his body, and realized what the change had been. He’d never seen in person, and had looked away when the other boys tried to share around their pictures, but - oh god that made no sense… A bird’s shriek rebounded off the walls again.
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