A virus has his the world. But, it's not the one we know. It's much worse. And Alex, a junior in High School, sees how it affects people every day. Even his closest friends. He just never thought it would hit so close to home.
I've had this story rattling in my brain ever since I started reading gainer fiction and just thinking about the fandom in general. people have done things like this before, but not to the level I kinda wanted it. So, I took matters into my own hands! I'm trying to write this thing! We'll see how it goes. This is my first furry/weight gain story, so any critiques would be awesome. Hope you all enjoy!
Introduction
The first case was in Malaysia. Some backwater village off the coast of the Sulu Sea. It was nothing like scientists had ever seen. A genetic disease that was as infectious the Black Death, and supposedly just as dangerous. The pathogen was unique. Unidentified. The molecules of the disease behaved almost like a living thing. But, the virus was like a cold-hearted husk when it hit the world’s population.
Only hours after the first case was identified, three more cases popped up in that same village. The same disease, but different results. The same common denominator, but different answers. This is what made the virus itself so hard to pin down. The ever-changing nature of it. The impossibility to predict the personalized consequences of the disease.
A quarantine was put into effect for the entire world population as the virus’s case totals reached well over 55,000 in Malaysia alone after the first week. The pathogen began to slowly climb its way up the archipelago of Southeast Asia, the case numbers climbing slowly into the hundreds of thousands. As soon as that baby hit the Himalayas and passed through the Chinese border, all hell broke loose.
Numbers skyrocketed as the frantic disease took the world by storm. Millions of people became infected overnight, the effects sending waves throughout hundreds of countries. New cities and countries across the world reported their first cases popping up in port cities linked to China or Asia. Entire towns were swallowed in it as lockdowns were put into effect. Economies crashed as governments around the world tried to account for this new curveball Mother Nature was throwing at them.
The world was thrown into a panic. It was a new epidemic. Black Plague 2. And the world was helpless to stop it. Their only hope was to contain it, hoping some of human civilization could skirt around the effects of the horrendous disease.
Walls were erected in once tightly-knit communities. Families were divided as to keep the disease at bay. Children were taken away from mothers, fathers. The governments of the world put out executive order after executive order to try and stall the virus’s spread. To see if they could possibly get the upperhand in the situation. Segregation of the infected and non-infected ensued. Constitutionality was thrown out the window as the greater good of humanity hung in the balance.
But that first case. In that little Malaysian village. People thought the devil had possessed that little boy, or some trickster God had sent a curse upon their perfect child. This wasn’t an ordinary sickness. An ordinary sickness wouldn’t turn the world upside down, while choking it in a stranglehold.
No. When his mother walked in on him that morning after he contracted the virus, she shrieked at the sight. For her beloved, young, handsome son had the ears, fur, and muzzle of a dog.
No. This wasn’t an ordinary virus. No, indeed.
Chapter One
“Alex!” It’s time for breakfast!”
I shot up from my bed, my eyes flinging open from their dormant state. “Coming!” I yelled, jumping out of my bed and rushing to the door, sans clothes. Before I rush to the door, I glance in the mirror. My brown hair was matted and messy, nothing unusual for my typical bedhead. My gangly frame looked even thinner without clothes to pad my look. I smiled, happy that nothing had changed overnight. I pointed finger guns to my reflection, whispering, “Hey, good-lookin’.”
I turned toward the door again, ready to embark to my breakfast feast. I stopped when I grabbed the door handle, feeling the rush of air on my thighs as I did so. Instinctively, I grabbed the robe hanging on the hook on the wall, throwing it on before I opened the door. I raced down the steps to the first floor. The smell of breakfast filled my nostrils and I smiled. At least one thing was still sure in this world: my mom sure did know how to cook breakfast.
She looked over from the kitchen. She had her signature red apron tied around her waist. Her brown hair was tied back into a pony-tail to avoid the grease and the occasional strand mixing in with the food she was preparing. She hummed a happy tune as she worked, and halted when she spotted me. “Hi, hun. Grab yourself something to eat.” She turned back to the pan of eggs she was frying, but not before she added, “And after maybe put on some real clothes?”
I rolled my eyes. “I like my robe, though.” I turned, the cloth moving with me. “It gives me some room to breathe.”
“But, it isn’t proper school attire, don’t you think?”
I tried to retort, but she had me. “Fine. I walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a plate from a stack that had been laid out. Bacon, eggs, biscuits, gravy. Breakfast of champions, I’d say. And I wanted to try every bit of it. I piled food onto my plate and began to chow down, everything tasting like heaven. My mom was an especially good cook, and she would be what some would call a “try-hard” in the world of cooking.
Making things from scratch is the mark of a true artisan, she always said. Shows true quality in your work. But, for me, all that really mattered was the taste. In my humble opinion, everything tastes better from scratch. I’d had enough store-bought breakfast foods, and nothing compared to when my mom decided to get down and dirty and make me something a little special. These were always my favorite days.
“Everything is delicious.” I say, cheeks full of sausage and egg.
She looked at me, disapproving. Familiar lines creased on her face as she feigned a frown. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You’ll choke.” I roll my eyes. My mom was definitely an over-worried type, especially in recent months after school changed so drastically. After my plate began to dwindle, she hustled me along back to my room to take my shower and dress myself for the day ahead.
I finish pulling the shirt over my chest, my hair still wet from the shower. I look into the mirror, admiring my outfit for the day. Blue jeans and a black tee, with highlights of blue and red to keep it fresh. I grabbed the toothbrush and paste on the counter of my sink and began to scrub away the remains of the banquet my mother had made me.
After my teeth were properly cleaned, my hair needed just the right amount of fixing. Not too much to look like a combover, but not too little to make it look like bedhead. My hair was a tricky piece of equipment, and needed just the right about of fine tuning to figure it out. After some annoying trial and error with the brush, I finally had a look that was somewhat satisfactory. I let go, not daring to touch my hair again, grabbed the hairspray can, and let loose enough of the vapor to freeze any man in place.
I walked down the stairs, shoes and winter coat adorned. I had a small swagger in my step. Maybe the breakfast had done something for me. Maybe it was just one of the lucky days I feel good about myself. Whatever it was, I was enjoying it deeply.
“Looking good, hon.” My mom said as I walked down to the kitchen to say my goodbyes.
“Thanks, Mom. Will you be working late today?”
She shook her head. “I’ll actually be home in time to cook you dinner. Around 7 or 8 I imagine. Nothing too crazy.’
My eyes lit up. This day was just getting better and better. “Sweet! I guess I’ll see you at 8!”
I hugged her, squeezing tight. Her hands wrapped around my bookbag in a motherly embrace that I wish I could wrap up and take with me, but unfortunately, I had little time before the bus arrived.
“Good luck at school today.” she whispered.
“Good luck paralegal-ing.” I replied, pulling away from the hug.
She handed me a small mesh of cloth as I pulled away. “You don’t wanna forget your mask, do you?”
My cheeks flushed red. “No… that could’ve been a disaster.”
“You’re right about that. Don’t let that happen again!”
I ran to the door. “I won’t!”
“And don’t get-”
“I won’t!”
I slammed the door behind me, breathing in the cool morning air. A mist formed and pushed into the air as I exhaled, the last few moments before sunrise penetrating the wood of the world with a wave of calm. I began my trek to the bus stop, eager to get to school. As I look back now, I should’ve heeded my mother’s words more carefully. At that point I should’ve simply turned around and finished my schooling from home like so many other kids were doing.
But it was too late. Things were already in motion.
The suburban streets outside the city were quiet and dark. No cars passed by as I walked down the sidewalk. Each house looked pristine, as if cut from the 1950s and placed into the 21st century. The lawns were always green, and the homes never looked dirty or dilapidated. It was a perfect place to live.
That was only how it used to be. Now, grass could be seen dying on some lawns. The houses looked dusty, unlived in. Moving trucks dotted the sides of the streets. People bustled about as things were carried out of select houses, the workers dressed in full HAZMATs. The people in those houses were gone, some I knew very well. They had gotten infected, and in accordance with the new executive orders, they were to be moved to a location where further spread of the infection could be limited. I sighed, saddened to see so many houses and people ruined through this virus. But, I pushed on, unhindered by the thought of what could happen.
As I reached the stop sign where my bus usually came, I shoved my hands into my pockets and waited. I could feel my driver’s license in my pocket, and a pained grimace came across my face. I missed driving. Driving to school. The freedom it gave. But, stupid orders kept him from doing so as to hinder any unforeseen spread that the school system cannot keep under control. So, that meant, no driving to school, no carpooling, and absolutely no hitchhiking. Only walking or bussing could do you any good in these situations, and it had to be walking alone at that. I heard the loud engine approaching from a mile away, breaking the silence of the morning like a rock through glass. As the bright yellow bus turned the corner, I put on my mask and stood at attention.
When the doors opened, I walked up two of the three steps, stopping and waiting for the procedure to begin. The driver whipped out a scanning thermometer, zapping my forehead for my temperature. Once I was clear, she began to list off medical mumbo jumbo that could’ve implicated me as a carrier of this deadly disease. Once I answered ‘no’ to all the questions, she let me through and I made my way to the middle window seat I usually sat alone in.
The window was foggy, the outside obscured. As I laid my bookbag next to me and sat down, my field of vision immediately encapsulated the house across the street that was being moved out. The HAZMATs were carrying cardboard box after cardboard box full of things, packed full from clothes to trophies. I frowned at the sight of a young parent, halfway on his way to becoming some sort of animal, stormed out of the house, pleading with the men to take his stuff back.
The young man grabbed a box full of pink and blue toys, ripping it from one of the HAZMATs. The young parent started yelling at the men, pleading. But the HAZMAT didn’t listen. He simply whipped out a taser as if he was a lawman in the West, shooting the man. As the wires made contact, his body went rigid and writhed. He dropped the box, the faint THUD! being heard from the bus. We pulled away from the stop sign as the young man hit the dirt, the other HAZMATs encircling him.
Normally my heart would ache at the sight of this kind of brutality. But this had become the norm. I simply put my headphones in, and turned to face the green pleather of the bus seat in front of me. The music drowned out my thoughts as the bus drove along the road to the high school.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. The soft serenade of the big band in my ears lulled me to sleep like a lullaby. I smiled as my head rested on the window, the gentle vibrations of the bus traversing a bumpy road reverberating through my body. The conditions felt like one of those massage chairs in the mall, albeit a little more hand-crafted.
My mind shook when the bus hissed. My eyes popped open as the bus lurched to a stop in the front of the high school. The bus driver opened the doors and the few lonely teens of the bus all got up in usison, leaving me still groggy in my seat. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and paused the soft guitar. I pulled the buds from my ears and stood. Stepping into the aisle, I swiped my backpack from the seat. I shouldered it as I walked toward the entrance, stopping one I got to the bus driver.
“Thank you,” I said. “Hope you have a good one.”
She smiled. “No problem, honey.”
I flashed her a toothy grin once again, then exited the bus.
The high school towered over me like the Hoover Dam. White marble walls and high-society architecture were the cornerstones of this intuition, both literally and figuratively. The two story building looked more like ten as I got closer and closer to the entrance. Some might say the building looked regal, like something straight out of DC. But, as of recent, this has become more of a stronghold. Health security measures were placed throughout the school, and blocked any unwanted visitors from getting even twenty feet from the entrance. Lines were already forming for the multiple health checks. I guess now would be as good a time as ever to join the other students. I took a deep breath, then ran over to the ever-growing lines to get into the school.
I've had this story rattling in my brain ever since I started reading gainer fiction and just thinking about the fandom in general. people have done things like this before, but not to the level I kinda wanted it. So, I took matters into my own hands! I'm trying to write this thing! We'll see how it goes. This is my first furry/weight gain story, so any critiques would be awesome. Hope you all enjoy!
Introduction
The first case was in Malaysia. Some backwater village off the coast of the Sulu Sea. It was nothing like scientists had ever seen. A genetic disease that was as infectious the Black Death, and supposedly just as dangerous. The pathogen was unique. Unidentified. The molecules of the disease behaved almost like a living thing. But, the virus was like a cold-hearted husk when it hit the world’s population.
Only hours after the first case was identified, three more cases popped up in that same village. The same disease, but different results. The same common denominator, but different answers. This is what made the virus itself so hard to pin down. The ever-changing nature of it. The impossibility to predict the personalized consequences of the disease.
A quarantine was put into effect for the entire world population as the virus’s case totals reached well over 55,000 in Malaysia alone after the first week. The pathogen began to slowly climb its way up the archipelago of Southeast Asia, the case numbers climbing slowly into the hundreds of thousands. As soon as that baby hit the Himalayas and passed through the Chinese border, all hell broke loose.
Numbers skyrocketed as the frantic disease took the world by storm. Millions of people became infected overnight, the effects sending waves throughout hundreds of countries. New cities and countries across the world reported their first cases popping up in port cities linked to China or Asia. Entire towns were swallowed in it as lockdowns were put into effect. Economies crashed as governments around the world tried to account for this new curveball Mother Nature was throwing at them.
The world was thrown into a panic. It was a new epidemic. Black Plague 2. And the world was helpless to stop it. Their only hope was to contain it, hoping some of human civilization could skirt around the effects of the horrendous disease.
Walls were erected in once tightly-knit communities. Families were divided as to keep the disease at bay. Children were taken away from mothers, fathers. The governments of the world put out executive order after executive order to try and stall the virus’s spread. To see if they could possibly get the upperhand in the situation. Segregation of the infected and non-infected ensued. Constitutionality was thrown out the window as the greater good of humanity hung in the balance.
But that first case. In that little Malaysian village. People thought the devil had possessed that little boy, or some trickster God had sent a curse upon their perfect child. This wasn’t an ordinary sickness. An ordinary sickness wouldn’t turn the world upside down, while choking it in a stranglehold.
No. When his mother walked in on him that morning after he contracted the virus, she shrieked at the sight. For her beloved, young, handsome son had the ears, fur, and muzzle of a dog.
No. This wasn’t an ordinary virus. No, indeed.
Chapter One
“Alex!” It’s time for breakfast!”
I shot up from my bed, my eyes flinging open from their dormant state. “Coming!” I yelled, jumping out of my bed and rushing to the door, sans clothes. Before I rush to the door, I glance in the mirror. My brown hair was matted and messy, nothing unusual for my typical bedhead. My gangly frame looked even thinner without clothes to pad my look. I smiled, happy that nothing had changed overnight. I pointed finger guns to my reflection, whispering, “Hey, good-lookin’.”
I turned toward the door again, ready to embark to my breakfast feast. I stopped when I grabbed the door handle, feeling the rush of air on my thighs as I did so. Instinctively, I grabbed the robe hanging on the hook on the wall, throwing it on before I opened the door. I raced down the steps to the first floor. The smell of breakfast filled my nostrils and I smiled. At least one thing was still sure in this world: my mom sure did know how to cook breakfast.
She looked over from the kitchen. She had her signature red apron tied around her waist. Her brown hair was tied back into a pony-tail to avoid the grease and the occasional strand mixing in with the food she was preparing. She hummed a happy tune as she worked, and halted when she spotted me. “Hi, hun. Grab yourself something to eat.” She turned back to the pan of eggs she was frying, but not before she added, “And after maybe put on some real clothes?”
I rolled my eyes. “I like my robe, though.” I turned, the cloth moving with me. “It gives me some room to breathe.”
“But, it isn’t proper school attire, don’t you think?”
I tried to retort, but she had me. “Fine. I walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a plate from a stack that had been laid out. Bacon, eggs, biscuits, gravy. Breakfast of champions, I’d say. And I wanted to try every bit of it. I piled food onto my plate and began to chow down, everything tasting like heaven. My mom was an especially good cook, and she would be what some would call a “try-hard” in the world of cooking.
Making things from scratch is the mark of a true artisan, she always said. Shows true quality in your work. But, for me, all that really mattered was the taste. In my humble opinion, everything tastes better from scratch. I’d had enough store-bought breakfast foods, and nothing compared to when my mom decided to get down and dirty and make me something a little special. These were always my favorite days.
“Everything is delicious.” I say, cheeks full of sausage and egg.
She looked at me, disapproving. Familiar lines creased on her face as she feigned a frown. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You’ll choke.” I roll my eyes. My mom was definitely an over-worried type, especially in recent months after school changed so drastically. After my plate began to dwindle, she hustled me along back to my room to take my shower and dress myself for the day ahead.
I finish pulling the shirt over my chest, my hair still wet from the shower. I look into the mirror, admiring my outfit for the day. Blue jeans and a black tee, with highlights of blue and red to keep it fresh. I grabbed the toothbrush and paste on the counter of my sink and began to scrub away the remains of the banquet my mother had made me.
After my teeth were properly cleaned, my hair needed just the right amount of fixing. Not too much to look like a combover, but not too little to make it look like bedhead. My hair was a tricky piece of equipment, and needed just the right about of fine tuning to figure it out. After some annoying trial and error with the brush, I finally had a look that was somewhat satisfactory. I let go, not daring to touch my hair again, grabbed the hairspray can, and let loose enough of the vapor to freeze any man in place.
I walked down the stairs, shoes and winter coat adorned. I had a small swagger in my step. Maybe the breakfast had done something for me. Maybe it was just one of the lucky days I feel good about myself. Whatever it was, I was enjoying it deeply.
“Looking good, hon.” My mom said as I walked down to the kitchen to say my goodbyes.
“Thanks, Mom. Will you be working late today?”
She shook her head. “I’ll actually be home in time to cook you dinner. Around 7 or 8 I imagine. Nothing too crazy.’
My eyes lit up. This day was just getting better and better. “Sweet! I guess I’ll see you at 8!”
I hugged her, squeezing tight. Her hands wrapped around my bookbag in a motherly embrace that I wish I could wrap up and take with me, but unfortunately, I had little time before the bus arrived.
“Good luck at school today.” she whispered.
“Good luck paralegal-ing.” I replied, pulling away from the hug.
She handed me a small mesh of cloth as I pulled away. “You don’t wanna forget your mask, do you?”
My cheeks flushed red. “No… that could’ve been a disaster.”
“You’re right about that. Don’t let that happen again!”
I ran to the door. “I won’t!”
“And don’t get-”
“I won’t!”
I slammed the door behind me, breathing in the cool morning air. A mist formed and pushed into the air as I exhaled, the last few moments before sunrise penetrating the wood of the world with a wave of calm. I began my trek to the bus stop, eager to get to school. As I look back now, I should’ve heeded my mother’s words more carefully. At that point I should’ve simply turned around and finished my schooling from home like so many other kids were doing.
But it was too late. Things were already in motion.
The suburban streets outside the city were quiet and dark. No cars passed by as I walked down the sidewalk. Each house looked pristine, as if cut from the 1950s and placed into the 21st century. The lawns were always green, and the homes never looked dirty or dilapidated. It was a perfect place to live.
That was only how it used to be. Now, grass could be seen dying on some lawns. The houses looked dusty, unlived in. Moving trucks dotted the sides of the streets. People bustled about as things were carried out of select houses, the workers dressed in full HAZMATs. The people in those houses were gone, some I knew very well. They had gotten infected, and in accordance with the new executive orders, they were to be moved to a location where further spread of the infection could be limited. I sighed, saddened to see so many houses and people ruined through this virus. But, I pushed on, unhindered by the thought of what could happen.
As I reached the stop sign where my bus usually came, I shoved my hands into my pockets and waited. I could feel my driver’s license in my pocket, and a pained grimace came across my face. I missed driving. Driving to school. The freedom it gave. But, stupid orders kept him from doing so as to hinder any unforeseen spread that the school system cannot keep under control. So, that meant, no driving to school, no carpooling, and absolutely no hitchhiking. Only walking or bussing could do you any good in these situations, and it had to be walking alone at that. I heard the loud engine approaching from a mile away, breaking the silence of the morning like a rock through glass. As the bright yellow bus turned the corner, I put on my mask and stood at attention.
When the doors opened, I walked up two of the three steps, stopping and waiting for the procedure to begin. The driver whipped out a scanning thermometer, zapping my forehead for my temperature. Once I was clear, she began to list off medical mumbo jumbo that could’ve implicated me as a carrier of this deadly disease. Once I answered ‘no’ to all the questions, she let me through and I made my way to the middle window seat I usually sat alone in.
The window was foggy, the outside obscured. As I laid my bookbag next to me and sat down, my field of vision immediately encapsulated the house across the street that was being moved out. The HAZMATs were carrying cardboard box after cardboard box full of things, packed full from clothes to trophies. I frowned at the sight of a young parent, halfway on his way to becoming some sort of animal, stormed out of the house, pleading with the men to take his stuff back.
The young man grabbed a box full of pink and blue toys, ripping it from one of the HAZMATs. The young parent started yelling at the men, pleading. But the HAZMAT didn’t listen. He simply whipped out a taser as if he was a lawman in the West, shooting the man. As the wires made contact, his body went rigid and writhed. He dropped the box, the faint THUD! being heard from the bus. We pulled away from the stop sign as the young man hit the dirt, the other HAZMATs encircling him.
Normally my heart would ache at the sight of this kind of brutality. But this had become the norm. I simply put my headphones in, and turned to face the green pleather of the bus seat in front of me. The music drowned out my thoughts as the bus drove along the road to the high school.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. The soft serenade of the big band in my ears lulled me to sleep like a lullaby. I smiled as my head rested on the window, the gentle vibrations of the bus traversing a bumpy road reverberating through my body. The conditions felt like one of those massage chairs in the mall, albeit a little more hand-crafted.
My mind shook when the bus hissed. My eyes popped open as the bus lurched to a stop in the front of the high school. The bus driver opened the doors and the few lonely teens of the bus all got up in usison, leaving me still groggy in my seat. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and paused the soft guitar. I pulled the buds from my ears and stood. Stepping into the aisle, I swiped my backpack from the seat. I shouldered it as I walked toward the entrance, stopping one I got to the bus driver.
“Thank you,” I said. “Hope you have a good one.”
She smiled. “No problem, honey.”
I flashed her a toothy grin once again, then exited the bus.
The high school towered over me like the Hoover Dam. White marble walls and high-society architecture were the cornerstones of this intuition, both literally and figuratively. The two story building looked more like ten as I got closer and closer to the entrance. Some might say the building looked regal, like something straight out of DC. But, as of recent, this has become more of a stronghold. Health security measures were placed throughout the school, and blocked any unwanted visitors from getting even twenty feet from the entrance. Lines were already forming for the multiple health checks. I guess now would be as good a time as ever to join the other students. I took a deep breath, then ran over to the ever-growing lines to get into the school.
Category Story / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 320 x 310px
Listed in Folders
Pretty soon. I'm almost done with it. Sorry for the wait, but I'm having trouble finding time to actually write the thing XD. I'm glad your excited for it though!
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