Creatures of the Night

This was the other story I wrote last Friday alongside the horse story - since they were both leading in the $10 tier poll generated by the $5+ crowd.  The description from the patron was:  "I have a hankering for bats, so I was thinking something similar to the paladin werewolf inspired by Ravenloft - a vampire huntress (or hunter, I'm fine with a male perspective), finally tracks down what she thinks is a vampire, only to discover that vampire is actually a werebat who intentionally pretends otherwise to avoid people bringing the right anti-monster materials, and gets infected."

The full moon dominated the clear sky.  Pale and clear, the silver tinged with grey with a faint electric blue halo ringing the enormous orb.  The light streamed through an open window high above the room.

"It killed last night," the Bishop said.

She sat before him, hands folded in her lap and her head bowed as he rubbed his thumb against her forehead, from her hairline down to her nose and then across.  The dry powder burned as if it were lit.  She grunted quietly but otherwise showed no emotion.

"If we act now, we have a chance to track it to its lair before it moves on," he continued.

She prayed silently as he continued his work, marking her with sigils that would grant holy protection against the creature.  A pair of priests blessed thin stakes on a table nearby, coating them in holy water before letting them dry.  Her mace, modified to add the blunt edge of a mallet, lay to the right of her belt with empty loops for the stakes.

"I thank you for volunteering, Sister Agnes," the Bishop told her, stepping back as he finished his work.

"If it saves even a single life, I would give mine in return," she said, making the sign of the cross as she finished her prayers.  "Amen."

"Your purity will serve you well against him," the Bishop told her.  "He will be unlike any of the beasts you've encountered before.  Weapons alone won't be enough.  A woman who has known the touch of a man would be ensorcelled immediately, but your immaculate faith will protect you, as will the marks I've made against your skin."

The priests began to slot the stakes in the loops on her belt.  Sister Agnes bowed as the Bishop stepped back from her and she stood, straightening the robes she wore.  The priests likewise stepped away from the table to allow her to approach.  She touched the stakes carefully, turning each in their loops to ensure their sharpness before finally lifting the belt to settle it on her wide hips.  Her mace was next and she inspected it as well before hooking it to her belt.

"May God protect you on your journey," the Bishop intoned. "Your carriage awaits in the yard."

Sister Agnes took her cloak from the back of the chair where she'd sat earlier.  She spun it around her shoulders before tying it at her neck.  The Bishop and two priests bowed their heads in prayer as she passed, sweeping through the doorway and into the torch-lit hall.

She glanced at the building to her right while she walked.  Sisters Elizabeth, Mary, Margarent, and Patience would be sleeping by now, exhausted after a day of training.  They were recently admitted to the convent and not yet ready to venture beyond the walls of the old keep.  Sister Agnes clutched the cross she wore beneath her robes, thankful that they were safe in her stead.  She prayed for the day their services would no longer be needed.

The carriage was parked in front of the gate with its driver standing at its side.  The man bowed deeply when she approached, but she waved her hand and he stood straight.  She entered the covered carriage from the rear to sit with her bent knees to the side.  When the carriage began to move, she unhooked her mace to rest it on her lap.  She closed her eyes to pray while the carriage bounced and swayed.  Exhaustion began to settle against the edges of her mind until she focused to clear her thoughts.

When the moon rose to its highest peak, the carriage slowed to a stop.

"We's here, Sister," the driver grumbled.  The cart shifted as he stepped down.  She stood on trained, steady legs to walk to the back and leap to the ground, ignoring the offered hand from the driver.

"Thank you, I know the way," she said, staring up at the rough, ragged path that curved around the mountain.  "Wait for my return.  If I'm not back by dawn, return to the keep.  They'll need to know what happened."

"Yes'm," the man said, doffing his cap to press a knuckle against his dirt-covered sweaty forehead.  "I'll be right here, waitin' for ya."

Sister Agnes touched each of the stakes in sequence on her belt as she stepped onto the path.  Despite her training, her heart pounded.  She'd faced countless monsters in the past yet none of them approached the level of a vampire.

The higher she climbed, the harsher the winds that whipped her robes.  Her cloak fluttered, tugging at her neck and body until she untied it to let it fly away.

After nearly an hour of steady climbing, she spied a rough hewn opening ahead of her, further along the curving trail.  She stopped to rest her hand against the mountain while staring at the entrance.  She closed her eyes in a futile attempt to hear anything past the roar of wind.  When she continued, she gripped her necklace once more with her left hand while her right clenched against her mace.

Her slim hope that the reports and witness accounts were wrong died when she stepped into the cave.  Three lambs, not long dead, lay on their sides just past the entrance.  She knelt to touch their sides and feel the fading warmth before standing and taking the necklace from beneath her robe.  She snatched a stake with her left hand while lifting her mace and her boots grinded silently against the rocks lining the cave's floor.

When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her hearing fading, overwhelmed by the pounding of her heart.  She crept through the tunnels in halting movements until she reached an enormous chamber.

A dark form hunched over the corpse of a great beast.  Sister Agnes swallowed the whimper she felt rising at the back of her throat.  Her faith, chastity, and the cross, painted on her forehead with the willing blood of innocents, would shield her.

She crouched low and moved as slowly as possible.  It was difficult to tell how tall he was since he was bent over but he had a large frame with his cloak draped wide over long arms.  He was hunchbacked - deforrmed in a grotesque way that matched his true nature.  Her stomach churned over the wet sucking noises she heard.

Although her boots were silent, the creature froze and she stopped as well.  Blood pounded through her body, mixed with hormones that left her nearly vibrating in place, ready to move.

And then it stood and she looked up at the horror of its face while it raised its spindly arms.  It wore no cloak, she realized - too late, as it flapped huge black wings that pushed her back.  There was no humanity in its crushed, bulbous face.  She saw nothing that gave a hint of the emotions swirling within its towering body.  Blood dripped from the fur covering its face.

Sister Agnes rolled to her knees with her toes bent beneath her.  She braced herself as muscles coiled in her legs and her knuckles tightened on the stake and her mace.

A half second before her leap, it screamed and the world exploded in white pain.

She woke to it straddling her and she kicked, but its weight trapped her legs.  When she tried to raise her weapons, its wings whipped down to grab her wrists with the three finger-like claws attached to the end.

It stared directly into her face without flinching.  She could feel the naked chain of her cross against her neck and still the creature showed no pain or recognition of the relic. Sister Agnes struggled uselessly in its iron-like grip.

The creature hissed and leaned closer to her.  She stared down at it, her face screwed up into an angry challenge that was deflated when she spied reddened skin emerging from brown fur at its waist.

"No!  NO!" Sister Agnes screamed.

She twisted and bucked but the creature bent down to her shoulder.  Pain flared from her upper arm.  She closed her eyes and prayed as it fed from her but intrusive thoughts broke the chain of her worship.  A gentle numbness spread throughout her arm and shoulder.  When it reached her fingers, her hand opened and the stake rolled away from her.

Why hadn't the cross worked?  Why didn't the mark work?  Were they so outmatched by the abomination that even God's power was useless?

It grinded against her while feeding.  She could feel the disgusting touch of its devilish tool rubbing against her belly - back and forth, back and forth.  Sister Agnes continued her private litany, hoping beyond hope that the creature would simply kill her.

Weight shifted against her body.  She glanced up to see the creature staring into the tunnels from which she came.  It cocked its head one way and then the other.  Giant feathery ears spun atop its head as it listened to silent echoes cascading through the cavern.  Suddenly, it leapt back and screeched again, quietly this time before bounding away.

Sister Agnes waited for several minutes before rolling to her stomach and pushing herself up.  Her left arm dangled, completely numb to the touch but she ignored it while retrieving her stake.  There were no documents detailing what would happen if a vampire's victim wasn't completely drained, but she had no intention of waiting for it to return to find out.  She wasn't turned yet and she needed to report back.  She would deal with the consequences afterwards.

The journey back down to the base of the mountain was harrowing.  Her blood loss left her feeling faint while the pain of feeling returning back to her arm distracted her every step of the treacherous path.  By the time she was near the bottom, she began to run.

No horses were attached to the carriage and the driver was missing.  Sister Agnes said a quick prayer for the man before setting off back to the convent.  When she felt able, she ran and when she felt her heart might burst, she rested.  A part of her wanted to return before sunrise.  If she were infected, the sun would kill her, but she wouldn't be able to give vital information.  And so, with the gray sky of pre-dawn surrounding her, she breathed a sigh of relief when she spied the keep.

The Bishop sat awake, waiting for her.  Pure white touched his face when he saw the blood covering her arm and the sleeve of her dress.  He jumped up and waddled back from her.

"The cells, quickly!" she screamed, racing past him to the stairs hidden behind a column in the courtyard.

He followed her slowly, but she ignored him as she jumped from the bottom of the stairs and into the room, startling the guard when she landed. She ignored him as well to grab the key to the cells.  He yelled after her, but she jumped into a cell, locking it with the key she held before throwing the key back at the guard.

When the Bishop arrived, she had pushed herself into the corner of the room.  Her mace and stakes were laid out on the table after she'd tossed them to the guard.

"What happened?" the Bishop asked.  He stood well clear of the cell where Sister Agnes resided.

She recounted the incident as clearly and concisely as possible, omitting only the foul member the creature rubbed against her.

"The mark did nothing?" the Bishop asked incredulously.  "Nor your cross?"

"It didn't even hesitate or react in any way to either of them," she told him.

"That's- that's impossible," he said.  "We've had trusted word from other parishes where the same has worked."

"Perhaps he was a greater vampire," she ventured.  "Indeed, his form was not at all what I was expecting."

"I've heard they can take different forms, and often a bat," the Bishop said.  "Perhaps...  I must send word immediately."

"You must kill me," she told him.

The Bishop hesitated.  She stared at him, but he turned away without another word.  A few minutes later, one of their alchemists came down the stairs.  He held a pouch and an array of vials in his hand.  She watched him toss an empty vial into her cell.

"There's a needle on the other end of the cork," he told her.  "Fill the vial with blood so I may test it for corruption."

She didn't often traffic with the alchemists beyond the few times when they shared a new formulae or weapon for her fight.  What was asked was unusual, but she trusted them completely.  After retrieving the vial, she did as told, sealing the vial before rolling it through the bars.

The alchemist laid out a thick leather mat upon which he set a dish and an array of containers.  He carefully placed gloves on in order to pick up the vial of her blood in order to empty the contents into the dish.  Once finished, he placed his gloves into a new bag that he set aside.

The man muttered to himself as he dripped the contents of one vial after another into her blood.  When he sat back with a confused look on his face, she allowed herself to have hope.

"You haven't been corrupted," he told her.

"Are you certain?" she asked.

"Yes, very," he replied.

"And, if you're wrong?" she prodded.

"Hundreds of years of research into the beasts we hunt have gone into these chemicals.  I am not wrong.  I'll inform the Bishop."

She was released with little fanfare afterwards.  The guard stood aside and ready, but the Bishop welcomed her back with a firm hug.

"I'm truly safe?" she asked.

"They tested for every known specimen of vampire and their minions," he told her.  "They found nothing.  Yes.  Yes, you're safe.  Return to your room and sleep.  We'll speak more this afternoon."

She nodded and shuddered while sighing.  The stress she'd been holding faded away to nothing and tears threatened the corners of her eyes.  Suddenly incredibly weary, she trudged through the halls and into her private room.  She was asleep seconds after her head touched her pillow.

A desert filled her dreams.  Endless black sand beneath a cruel red sun.  She wandered, cresting dunes in the hopes of finding an oasis.  None existed.

Thirst consumed her.

Her sweat evaporated almost immediately, cooling her until she was drained and still the sun punished her.  Not long after, she began to pray for nightfall.  To pray for the moon to cycle overhead in order to provide relief from the heat consuming her.  Drops of blood emerged over her body in place of sweat.  The beads rolled down her body without dissipating or providing relief.

When her head throbbed and her throat rasped and her teeth ached, she touched one of the drops of blood, wiping it away to bring to her lips.

The taste of it dropped her to her knees.  She felt revitalized, but, more than that, it ignited something deep within that left her panting on her hands and knees.  Aching.  She knelt back, sipping from her blood until her fingers tore at her clothes to leave her naked.  Sister Agnes suckled from the blood soaked into her clothes until they were clean and then continued with the drops forming on her body.

The excitement pulsed throughout her, an alien feeling that left her trembling and sliding a hand down between-

She woke with a gasp, sweating in her bed.  Her dream faded as they always did and she was left with a general sense of unease.  Sunlight cast golden shafts through the wooden shutters above her bed.

Sister Agnes sat up in her shift.  She turned to place her bare feet on the stone floor, staring at the bars of sunlight in front of her toes.

Voices carried throughout the yard.  Her Sisters.  They were speaking of her and she listened to the wavering voices as they worried over her health and what would become of them.  She scrubbed at her ears to try to rid herself of the high pitched ringing sound that mixed with the voices, but it continued.  Sister Mary wondered loudly what kind of creature she'd encountered and what would be needed to defeat it.  She continued to listen until the women were called to practice.

As slowly and as carefully as she could, Sister Agnes slid her foot forward, pausing only briefly before letting the light touch her toes.  When there was no pain or burning, she sighed and relaxed.  She stood and rubbed her nose hard with the palm of her hand before scratching just beneath her eyes.  The floor was marked with faint, ghostlike gradients of yellows, reds, oranges, and greens as well as a light blue.  She rubbed her eyes and shook her head but the strange muted colors remained.  They shifted constantly in her sight, varying slightly in intensity while retaining their primary coloring.

Voices called out through the ringing in the courtyard and more joined in - servants cleaning the quarters and gossiping in the most atrocious way.  Her face blushed red as she heard them and she charged from her room, ready with a sharp tongue to chastise those who dared speak ill of her.

Nobody stood outside her room.  She crossed the hall, throwing the opposite door open, but it was empty.  Sister Agnes followed the voices from room to room and her heart sank with every one.

Has my hearing increased from the brush with death? She asked herself.  She'd heard some say their senses sharpened when they came close to dying but never that it stayed sharp.

She returned to her room to dress before going into the courtyard to greet her Sisters.  They swarmed her, hugging her and crying out with joy until she felt dizzy from their touch and the warmth flowing throughout their bodies.  She swallowed behind trembling lips and smiled, chatting with them as well as she could until she excused herself.

It was an hour before the evening bell.  The Bishop would want to speak with her again so she made her way to his chamber to seek him out.  He was surprised to see her and she excused herself before entering and sitting by his desk.

Now that the panic and concern had passed, he asked her to again recount the details of her trip so he could record them to send to the other parishes.  She spoke slowly, beginning with their preparations and continuing on.

When she reached the part where the creature had tackled her, she squirmed in her chair.  It had sipped her blood.  Tasted her.  Desired her as it grew excited and rubbed against her.  Despite the situation, she could see it clearly again.  The fur swelling to expel the curved, red tip of its- its-

Sister Agnes' folded hands, placed against her lap, pressed between her thighs.  She stared at the Bishop as he carefully wrote her words and she wondered if his was the same.  Goosebumps tickled her neck before tracing a line down her spine and brown fur spread in their wake.  Sweat soaked into the front of her dress and her hands sawed slowly back and forth as she wondered if his cock were hidden within a furry sheath as well.  If it was as red as the creature's cock or as big.

She'd never seen a man's thing.  There'd been unavoidable times when she'd spied an animal's  member, but she'd quickly looked away.  She held a rough idea of what happened between a male and a female but no more than that.

Blood coursed down to her sex and her labia grew puffy.  She bit at her lips, grinding her teeth into the soft flesh as her canines slowly, slowly curved outward, cracking their neighboring incisors to make space for their growths.  Sister Agnes jumped when her clit swelled beyond its hood and her palms rubbed against it. She snatched her hands away and rubbed viciously against her nose.  Cartilage crunched over and over while her nose flattened slightly to force her nostrils to point forward.  She pinched the bridge of her nose before rubbing her eyes.

The Bishop had a soft red glow surrounding him, brighter where his skin was exposed with a soft purple coloring highlighting him.  Sounds fought for her attention while her swollen pussy begged for her touch. She groaned and swallowed and fidgeted.

"Are you alright, Sister?" the Bishop asked.

"I- I- I- I just remembered that I haven't eaten yet," Sister Agnes said.  "I- I just realized I had such a long, stressful night and I haven't-"

A horse's whinny caught her attention.  It was a pained cry, and far off, but familiar to her.  Sister Agnes reached up to her ears, humming as she massaged the edges, squeezing them between her fingers until they unfolded.

"We can continue this later, Sister," the Bishop said.  "Your health is paramount.  Please, return after you've had your fill."

"Yes," she said faintly, turning her head while her ears itched from the intricate muscles growing at the base.  The skin bowed around the backs of her ears, curling them beneath her hair.  Tiny hairs pricked the skin as they grew from the inside of her ears and around to cover them completely.

Sister Agnes stood and left in order to follow the sound of the injured horse.  The guards allowed her passage from the keep and she continued into the woods beyond.  Her ears grew, slipping through her hair as they continued to expand and rings of short gray hairs mixed with the brown covering the inside.

A soft yellow glow lay behind green trees.  The mass of color moved and cried out and she hurried, rushing through the forest until she knelt beside the prone body of a white horse lying on its side with a gash through its neck.

Burning red blood pumped slowly from the purple wound.  Sister Agnes moaned while stroking the horse softly.  Her eyelids fluttered when she inhaled.  She could taste the blood at the back of her throat just from breathing it in and it sent shivers down her spine. Her nose cracked and widened as it flattened further with the tip pointing upward.  Her nostrils stretched into curved ovals while her canines slid past her lips and enamel flowed over her incisors to bring them to sharp points.

Sister Agnes grinded her ass against the ground with her knees spread, moaning as she leaned forward to rub her swollen clit against a large stone just beneath her.  Her head pounded while a pulsing rushing sound filled her ears.  The dying horse watched her with giant black eyes as she leaned forward.  Her tongue reached out, stretching and stretching and stretching to a thin point until it touched fresh blood and she snarled and shoved her face down to drink from it, scratching at the beast's side.  Her nails curved while hardened and growing dense.  Layer upon layer turned nails to claws while bones elongated and her fingers merged - index to middle finger, pinky to ring finger.

The taste of the blood did more than nourish her - it enlivened her, awakening dormant desires far beyond what she could ever dream.  She tore at her dress, ripping it away from her body as she had in her dream.

A web of thick, dark skin connected her arms to her sides.  The skin dangled as she leaned forward again with her ass raised and knees spread.  Wild, curly hair, matted with the cum spreading from her wet pussy, hid her sex from view.  Shorter, finer hairs spread beneath the longer ones before creeping up to her ass and down to her thighs. The webbing connected beneath her armpit continued to stretch as the skin loosened slowly down to her hips and along her arm until it connected to the sides of her hands.

She reached beneath her body to slide a long, curved claw against her pussy and clit and the touch drove her mad.  She'd never experimented with herself.  From a young age she'd been told to be chaste in her service to God and she'd obliged.  Now the urge was undeniable.  Her blood pounded as she supped of the horses's blood and the red only served to remind her of the male's cock from the night before.  Thick and hard with an elegant, delicious curving tip that made her groan.  She suddenly needed to know what it would feel like to wrap her tongue around it.  Or what it would've felt like if he had torn her dress away to properly impale her.

Sister Agnes reared back.  She flung her arms wide and the wings snapped open like sails when they caught the wind, causing her to slide backwards.  Fur emerged from her cheeks and between her bare breasts.  Her forearm bones burned with liquid fire as they broke and reformed continuously while lengthening and her wings spread wider.  Dense brown fur erupted over her body, covering her breasts in thick tufts before racing down her taut stomach.

Bones crunched in her face while shoving her jaw forward in stuttering increments that left her screeching in pain.  Birds took flight while animals raced through the forest.

Alone.  She was alone.  But, not entirely alone.

"Sis- sisteerrrsssss," she hissed, turning her short, furred snout to stare back at the keep.  She grunted and snarled and swiped at her face with her claws until the pain settled.

The thought of her sisters was an overridingly powerful one.  They trained together.  Ate together.  Lived together and put those same lives on the line when called to do God's duty.

Sister Agnes leapt to a low hanging branch and then again, higher.  And higher until she burst through the trees to streak through the night on silent, powerful wings.

Hours later, she sat at the open window to the dormitory.  Her claws latched against the roof to hold her steady as her brain processed the individual breathing of every Sister within - testing each to ensure they were truly asleep.

Her feet slid through her boots, popping as joints moved and muscles reconnected to bones that slid beneath her skin.  She kicked and the boots fell away to reveal elongated feet with broad, delicate toes curling as they lengthened.  Sister Agnes scratched at the wall with claws curling over her toes, but she eventually caught onto cracks into the stone.

She pulled herself through the window to glide down to the floor, landing with her back hunched as she waddled towards Sister Patience.  Sister Agnes flashed her sharp teeth and breathed deeply of the sleeping girl, savoring the scent of her blood as she stared at it flowing just beneath the woman's skin.  She reached her claws out to pull the woman's shift up to bare her thigh and then leaned forward, breaking skin with sharp fangs and moaning as she fed.  Numbness spread over the girl and she groaned in her sleep.

The smell of Sister Patience's pussy flowed to Sister Agnes.  She sniffed while drinking until she felt herself growing wet.  Claws lifted the woman's shift higher to expose the woman's sex.  Sister Agnes crawled around to the woman's feet and up, bending until her flat nose brushed the girl's blonde, curly hair.  Her tongue slipped out to give an experimental lick and the taste excited her.  Another lick followed, and another until her narrow, long tongue slipped inside and Sister Patience moaned, feeling it despite the numbness.

Sister Agnes thrust her tongue quickly back and forth while rocking her ass in return, as if it were she that were being teased.  Finally, she pulled away with a frustrated hiss.  She cleaned the bit of blood covering the other woman's leg while the anticoagulants in her saliva wore out and the bleeding stopped.  She turned and leapt, easily reaching the high window before launching herself into the air.  Her silent scream was echoed a minute later by a male and she veered off, eager to douse the ache between her thighs.

---

Birds chirped cautiously in the morning sun.  Sister Agnes stirred and groaned.  Her eyes cracked open and she realized she lay naked on her stomach on the cold stone beneath her bed.  She rolled and crawled until she could stand and she groaned again as the joints throughout her body complained.

Clear crusts flaked away from her stomach and chest.  She reached for a piece still attached to her before breaking it off to stare at it and sniff it.  The scent was strong and oddly familiar.  She sniffed again and scratched a few random brown hairs low on her belly.  Her tongue darted out to lick the fragment she held and, when her mouth opened she felt more flakes fall away from her face.  The taste made her growl and her hand slipped lower to touch her clit.  She shook herself and yet more flakes fell away from her back.

Brown hairs littered the floor of her room.  She stared at them in confusion before shrugging and getting dressed.  She needed a bath.  Afterwards, she would train with the others.  She felt full of energy - agile and fast and strong as she walked through the halls.

Her tongue played with her fangs while sharp claws scratched against her body and around to the thick line of fur grown permanently along her spine.  Pointed, wide ears brushed against her hair when she tracked the sound of those around her.

After a light, unappetizing and unfulfilling breakfast, she joined her Sisters in their training.  They glowed in Sister Agnes' eyes with rivers of half-visible blood coursing throughout their bodies.

They welcomed her eagerly but none more so than Sister Patience.  Sister Agnes found herself pulled to the other woman and they trained throughout the day, touching and guiding and standing together.  Sweating together.  Moving together.  At one point, Sister Agnes reached an arm out to help her Sister after beating her to the ground and Sister Patience yanked back, pulling them together until their brows touched and their eyes locked onto each other.  Sister Patience growled and her tongue slipped free to lick Sister Agnes from her bottom lip to the tip of her nose.  When they separated, Sister Agnes couldn't help but stare at the hard points of Sister Patience's nipples pressing against her dress.

They found each other later that night in the forest outside the keep as fur grew and bones reshaped.  Their claws tore at each other's clothing until they wrestled naked with Sister Agnes on top and her head between Sister Patience's furred thighs.  Sister Agnes lapped at the other woman's pussy and Sister Patience soon followed, bending her head upward to slip inside Sister Agnes.  Their long flicking tongues dripped with cum that spiraled down to her faces as they snapped and pushed outward into short, furred muzzles.

The screech of their orgasms called to the male who screamed back at them and they busied themselves until his arrival.  Sister Patience lowered herself when he mounted Sister Agnes but she crawled forward with her long, winged arms to offer herself to Sister Agnes' mouth.  The trio switched positions throughout the night before Sister Agnes pulled them apart.  She flew and they followed, slipping into the dormitory and down amongst the beds.

The remaining Sisters woke to terror that slowly, slowly faded to pleasure and an orgy of fur and fangs and claws.  They would need males for their colony, but, as the sun began to rise, they knew instinctively that it would need to wait for the next month.  The male fled while the Sisters, drunk from pleasure and shared blood, stumbled their way back to their respective beds to wake the next morning in confusion - naked and surrounded by multi-colored fur with strange white fluids leaking from their abused pussies.

They all dreamed of flying the following nights and their trainers were astonished by their increased physical abilities.  Slowly, as the weeks passed, they found themselves flirting.  Kissing in secret.  Touching.  Exploring each other.  Tempting guards with forbidden pleasures.  Biting their lovers hard enough to leave bruises in order to hide the moans from their lovemaking.  Drawing blood in small amounts to lick the drops curiously, unsure of why they felt the rising urges but unable to stop themselves.

When the first full moon rose in the new month, guards were plucked from their posts by silent creatures on black wings.  They were turned and given over to the pleasures of the blood lust, replaced one-by-one until even the servants began to dream of flight.

The fort fell when Sister Agnes sat astride the Bishop's lap, lifting at his robes while pulling his head back to bite at his neck.  Human flesh crawling with brown fur as she impaled herself on his cock, moaning and licking the blood from his skin.  Half human and excited at the changes she knew would come, pounding herself down harder and harder until the Bishop erupted within and his claws tore at her back.

She dreamed of it now, even awake during the daytime.  Of blood and dark wings and furred, eager bodies.  The pleasures of all of it, waiting for her to take them.  As the Bishop reached trembling hands against her body while thrusting up to meet her flexing body, she wondered how she had lived before.  Restricted.  Hiding away in her room.  Bound to the earth.  She screeched from her orgasm while offering a nipple to the changing man.

Others would investigate.  Something would leak out or cause concern.  It was inevitable.  If another agent was sent during the full moon, they would convert them.  Or kill them.  And spread.  More and more until their wings blotted out the sun.