Tail - Alternate Ending

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Tail

-

The day after the birth, the baby disappeared from his arms. Ryan was aghast, and didn’t know what to think of it. He almost wanted to pretend that it hadn’t happened at all.

And yet, there was an abundance of evidence. His swollen belly. The tail languidly swaying behind him. The bloated breasts still dripping on his chest.

For days, he laid in his bed, not eating, not sleeping, just trying to come to terms with it all.

It took Ryan almost a year to lose the weight. He did it through a combination of long-term fasting, exercise, and more fasting. By the time he was back to his old self, he could have cried from relief. His breasts were gone, and his stomach flat, not one roll of extra weight occupying his body. He tried to put his ordeal behind him, and began to steadily repair his relationship with his family.

The tail remained present, but they were getting along better than ever before. The tail no longer acted impetuously and out of control. It no longer seemed to require food, and Ryan was able to resume eating through his mouth, which had become almost unusual to him.

Occasionally, Ryan thought about erasing the last bit of evidence of his strange, alien pregnancy. He thought about going to the hospital to inquire about getting the tail removed, but much as he deliberated it, Ryan couldn’t bring himself to do it. They had formed a bond, as odd as that bond was.

After coming home from the gym one evening, Ryan took a shower, changed into his pajamas, and dropped himself to his bed. Life was good, and he had no complaints. He closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

Ryan awoke in the middle of the night, and was slightly perplexed by it. There was a bright white light beaming from his bedroom window. He climbed out of bed and found himself gravitating towards it. The light was so powerful, it was almost blinding.

And then there was only blackness.

Ryan awoke strapped to a cold, metal table. There were people hoovering over him, and he wanted to scream, but was unable to. It was as though he had gone deaf, or mute, because all was utterly silent.

The people hoovering over him weren’t people at all. The four of them had long, beak-like noses, small, pursed mouths, and abnormally large eyes, as well as faint orange skin.

“You have been a good host,” said one, in an almost melodious voice. “You will continue to serve us well.”

Wait, no—! Ryan tried to say, as a mask was lowered to his face. His efforts to speak were cut off when he lost consciousness.

When Ryan awoke again, his tail seemed to be almost buzzing with movement. It felt slightly sore for some reason, as though it had…eaten…for the first time in a while. Ryan’s eyes quickly darted to his stomach, where he spotted a small lump under his flesh just below his navel. He stared at it in alarm.

“You’ve been fertilized,” informed the lilting voice.

Oh god, not again! Ryan thought in panic.

“These are a different species,” said the alien, its pluralization leaving Ryan further alarmed. “You can only provide them nutrition through the consumption of live animals.”

Ryan was sure he had heard wrong. Before he could protest, he was suddenly back in his bedroom, standing by the window, in his pajamas. In fact it was still dark out.

Had it all been a dream?

Ryan made his way to his bed, laid back, and heaved a sigh of relief. Just before he fell asleep, he felt a compulsion to check something, just to make sure. He slid up the hem of his T-shirt, and trailed his fingers over his lower stomach.

There was a gentle lump beneath his skin.

Ryan turned his gaze to stare at the ceiling, and didn’t get any sleep after all.

-

Over the next few days, Ryan was hungry.

He continued with his clean-eating habits, though increased his caloric intake. When that wouldn’t help, Ryan stuffed himself with peanut butter sandwiches, but that didn’t assuage his hunger either. He even tried allowing the tail to eat. He offered the tail a chocolate truffle, which is prodded at in curiosity, then proceeded to ignore.

Finally, Ryan tried eating meat, even though it contradicted his new healthy diet. He ate a chicken leg, but it made him feel nauseous much like everything else seemed to. He thought back to what the alien had dictated.

You can only provide them nutrition through the consumption of live animals.

But that was just disgusting.

Ryan was losing weight fast. His arms and legs slimmed out, as did his abdomen, making the small lump in his gut all the more blatant. Soon his muscles diminished, giving in to his ravenous body, but he tried to ignore it, despite the dizziness and the continuous feeling of malaise.

Was this okay? What would happen if there really was a bab—

Ryan cut of that stream of thought. It wasn’t his problem.

Ryan had picked up a course at the local college, and one day his friend and occasional study partner, Sally, stopped by. The two usually played board games together, but Ryan was too dazed to pay much attention to the chess set laid out in front of him.

“Ryan, are you okay?”

He snapped out of it, and swallowed. He was disturbed to realize he had spent the last ten minutes staring at the twitching chihuahua protruding from Sally’s purse. “I—er—yes,” he stammered.

“You look pale…” said Sally, giving him a dubious look. “And I didn’t want to mention it, but you’ve lost a lot of weight.”

Ryan was sweating. He could feel the tail shifting, uncoiling from his waist. He tried to get it to stay put, but it defied him to his shock. It was the first time it had been disobedient in over a year. “You should go!” he blurted out.

Sally frowned in confusion, but Ryan was already shuffling her towards the door.

“Not feeling well,” he rambled. “Don’t want to get you sick!” He slammed the door in her face as she opened her mouth to retort.

Then Ryan paced. This was ridiculous. He felt antsy, and weary, and absolutely starved. He spent that night standing in his window, gazing out of it, as though looking for answers. His stomach grumbled, and he felt disgusted with himself, because he knew what he had to do.

-

Rats reached sexual maturity at only five weeks, and they did not recognize incest. Their gestation period was just three weeks long, and they could give birth to a dozen or more per litter.

So when Ryan asked his aunt to bring over some of the white rats overrunning her farm, she was confused, but obliged him. She dropped off a crate of fifty.

Some were already pregnant, to Ryan’s surprise. In fact, it was difficult to determine the pregnant ones from the ones that weren’t, so he gave up on trying. In the end, he had a steady supply of the rodents, and as long as the tail didn’t get too greedy, it would be sufficient for the duration of his…condition.

Staring over the crate, he squeezed his eyes shut, and allowed his tail to hover above it. The tail had been writhing furiously since the arrival of the rats. Ryan cringed as he felt the tail dart down. He trembled slightly as he felt the tail clamp down on what had to be an especially plump one. And so it feasted.

-

“Sally,” said Ryan in surprise.

Sally pushed her way into the apartment, a board game clasped under her arm. “Hey Ryan, I just wanted to make sure you were…” she trailed off and her jaw hung.

Ryan was blushing. He looked uncomfortable in his own skin. Which made sense because he had gained weight. A lot of it. A round belly was stretching out his T-shirt. He also had small mounds on his chest, as though he was developing breasts.

“Woah…” she breathed.

“Scrabble!” Ryan quickly diverted. “Great, let’s play.” He took the box from her arms, then stiffened, his face twisting in a grimace. “Mmgghhh…” His belly quavered slightly, but then stopped, and he breathed heavily.

Sally continued to gawk at him.

“Just have to step into the next room,” Ryan said, lowering the board game gingerly to the coffee table. He headed out of the room, waddling slightly—goodness, he looked as though he was pregnant.

The door closed behind him, there was a creaking of wood, and then a sort of muffled—moaning noise. A few minutes later, Ryan returned, and she could have been imagining it, but he looked somewhat larger.

Ryan was panting slightly, tugging at his straining shirt. “Sorry,” he said, as he absently cradled the underside of his belly.

“Ryan, you look—”

“I know I’ve gained weight,” he cut her off with a sharp look. “It’s been a stressful couple of weeks. Let’s just play.” He eased himself down on the couch, and with clear discomfort, leaned down to the scrabble board.

He looked nervous, and had a permanent flush. From time to time, he would throw furtive look towards Princess Pixie, who would bark in return.

But as the game progressed, Ryan relaxed, and became cheerful, if weary. He continued to absently stroke his abdomen. His belly button was bulging outward, to Sally’s concern. And then there were those occasional tremors, and his sharp intakes of breath.

“Ryan, are you sure you’re okay?”

He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Better than ever,” he said drily.