"Dean! What's going on?"

Russell laid on the floor, opening and closing his hands as best as possible, slowly touching one paw to the other and poking his left pad with a claw. Walking closer to Russ, I carefully stepped around his legs, kneeling and holding out a hand as Russel put one of the large paws into it.

"Are they real, Russ?"

"They can't be real. It has to be those mushrooms or something!" Russell shouted as he closed his eyes. Grabbing one of his paws, the feeling of the fur and the shape of the appendage confirmed they were real. Somehow, Russell's hands had turned into bear claws, and I had what appeared to be feathers sprouting from my neck.

Reaching to the back of my head, I grabbed a pinch of feathers and yanked them. The skin of my neck resisted before they pulled free. Sharp, stabbing pain shot up the side of my face. Without hesitation, I took another pinch with my other hand, pulling more feathers out. My face began to throb, and my eyes watered from the pain.

"Dean, stop it! Your face is all white!" Russell shouted, pointing his brown paw at me.

Pressing my hand against my face, there was now feathers covering from neck to cheeks. More feathers were growing up my temples and into my hair. As I ran my hand across my hair, small amounts seemed to stick to my hand. Moving my hands to the back of my neck left blood on my fingers from where I hastily yanked the feathers out.

"I'm bleeding, dude. This can't be a hallucination; where is that phone? I'm calling Ted to get us," shouting at Russ, holding my lightly red hands in front of me.

Russ started to get up but struggled, unable to grip any surfaces with his giant paws. Helping him to his feet, I pulled on his arms. Russ ran over to his bag. Tugging at the sides, unable to grasp the zipper, he growled in frustration, "just open up, stupid bag!" With a rip, the bag tore open, spilling its contents onto the bed and the ground. Attempting to pick the large phone off the floor but failed with his giant paws. Reaching down and picking up the phone with my hand, the weight of the large orange device surprised me. The device felt like a small brick in my hands.

"How do I make a call on this thing?" I asked, fumbling with the brick-like phone.

The front of the device had a small screen and a cover. Opening the lid revealed a tiny keypad. A small switch on the side turned on the phone. The screen was basic, with only two lines of text. The small screen read CONNECTING.

Russel ushered me out of the room, eventually forcing me outside under the clear sky, holding the phone out for Russ to see, struggling to navigate the menu.

"Ted should be in the contacts. Just tell him to get here quickly." Russ paced in front of the cabin, rubbing his paws together.

Finding the contacts on such a simple display took a lot of work. But with enough trial and error, I found a listing that seemed to be for Ted. Starting the call, the phone stayed on a connecting screen for a few moments before the dial tone started. It was repeatedly ringing until it reached a voicemail.

"Ted? It's Dean and Russel. We need you back here as soon as possible. If you can't get a hold of us, just return to the cabin. Weird stuff is happening, and we don't know what's going on," hanging up the call and redialing it led to the same voicemail. "Do I call emergency services? I can't get Ted to pick up."

"No, no, no! If this is just some drug thing, I don't want to get in a mess with the police. Ted will fix this!" Russel shouted, "Let's at least wait a bit for Russel to call back."

"I don't know, man. That doesn't sound like that great of a plan." I darted back.

Attempting to call Russel again, we reached the voicemail. Closing the phone and setting it on the chair, Russel shook his head at me. All we could do now was wait. Scratching at my neck led me to find more blood on my hand. Walking past Russ and into the cabin, I grabbed the nearest cup and walked to the sink. But there was only a basin and no faucet.

"Where is the water faucet?" searching under the sink found only a bucket attached to the basin.

"There is no running water out here, Dean. If you need something to drink, you gotta boil the water first."

Walking out of the cabin, Russ followed me to the edge of the lake, "no, I just need to wash the blood out of my hair."

"You mean feathers?"

"Hair, feathers, I don't care, and they can be scales for all I care," scooping the water and dumping it onto my head felt cool and refreshing. Seeing myself in the reflection, white feathers covered my head, and it seemed almost as if my head were covered in a white hood, feathers peeking from my hair. Washing my head in the lake water multiple times, hoping that would take care of all the blood.

Standing up and turning to Russel, he gave me a nod of approval. Attempting to get as much water out of the feathers, I tried to run my hand across them, but they still felt wet and heavy.

Wanting to get my mind off the weird experience, I volunteered to make lunch. Russ instructed me to get a pot of water and boil it on the stove. He tried to assist, but his paws made him mostly unable. Bringing the water to a boil, we mixed two silver packets labeled "TOMATO SOUP". The resulting mixture smelt tremendous but came with its problems. Pouring the soup into two bowls, Russel looked worried. Reaching a spoon toward him helped me see why.

"I uhh, I can feed it to you. Or do you want to drink it from the bowl? Do you have a straw or something?" Russel shook his head in embarrassment before giving a light nod.

For the next ten minutes, I spooned the soup to Russel and myself. Embarrassed by being hand-fed like a child, Russel eventually asked me to stop and began slurping the soup from the bowl. Uncertain if that helped the embarrassment or not. I pretended not to notice Russ's loud sounds while drinking, but at one point, he looked up, and something seemed off about his mouth. He moved his head down for another go at drinking, and his lips seemed thinner this time.

"Russel?"

Russ looked up. His bottom lip hung low, revealing his bottom row of teeth, "huh?"

"Sorry, it was nothing. I thought I saw a fly or something."

Russel turned his head, looking behind himself, "where at? I didn't hear him," Russel turned away, allowing a glimpse at the back of his neck. Brown fur ran up his spine and met with his black hair. I spat out a small amount of soup in shock, catching Russel's attention.

"What's wrong with you, dude?" Russel questioned, his upper lips now thinner, folded over his bottom lips.

"Does your mouth feel... funny?" reaching up and feeling my lips; they felt normal. Russel reached a paw up and wiped his lips, "mine feel fine, do yours?"

"No, mine are fine."

We finished eating in silence. Cleaning up the bowls and singular spoon, we stepped outside and looked around. Wanting to ask Russel about his mouth but could not find a good way to start the conversation. Russel came up with the idea of taking the canoe to the small lake island. Being only around 300 feet out, it would be a quick trip. Getting the changes off our minds even.

Making sure to grab the sat phone, we pushed the canoe into the water. I climbed in without issue, but Russel slipped and soaked his left sleeve in water. The thin, white long sleeve showed a tint of brown up his entire arm. But I did not want to worry him. Russel sat at the canoe's rear while I took a seat at the front.

Paddling out into the lake was only made more difficult by only being able to operate a single oar. Having never used a canoe, especially solo, made for slow progress. We made it about halfway before the phone made a sound. The sound was a lowering chime. Russ hurriedly reached for the device, fumbling until I picked it up from the floor. Looking at the display showed a message.

LOW BATTERY

Fliping down the cover and pressing a button showed it was already in a call and had been for three and a half hours. After ending the call, the phone shut off. Attempting to toggle the power switch left the display blank. The look on my face must have tipped Russel off.

"What's wrong, Dean? Did we miss a call?"

Unable to think, I looked at the phone, then at Russel. I closed my eyes and tried to stay calm, knowing our only source of communication was gone. I took a deep breath before speaking.

"The phone went dead. It won't turn on."

Russel chuckled, but his expression changed as he realized I wasn't joking. Russ's chest began to rise and fall quickly, and his eyes darted between the phone in my hands and my face. Shaking his head side to side, he spoke in a gruff voice, "No, no, no, it was fully charged before we left! When you called Ted, it was full, right?"

"Yeah, one hundred percent. But I don't know if the call ever hung up," sheepishly admitting my mistake, "the uhh, call was still going just now."

Russel's eyes widened. He franticly looked around, breathing fast and deep as his lips parted, revealing his teeth again. Brown fur slowly crept around his chin, with every breath sounding deeper, like a rumbling huff. "Eugh, eugh, euuugh". Each time sounded deeper, less human, and more like a monster.

"Russel! You're freaking me out, dude!"

Russel slowly turned to look toward me, his head hunching as he turned. His eyes locked with mine, but his gaze looked empty. His mouth opened with a roar, and he swung a paw in my direction but missed by a considerable distance.

"Russel, what are you doing?" shouting again at the unresponsive creature. Russel swung once again, and without thinking, I gripped the oar with both hands and swung. With a loud CRACK, the oar contacted Russel's head, followed by his body falling onto the canoe floor. The oar suffered a significant split on its head, and the solid wood was left with a half-inch gap at its tip.

Russel lay motionless on the floor, his chest rising and falling slowly. Navigating the canoe back was increasingly difficult with the mix of shock and adrenalin. Once reaching the edge, the canoe hit the ground, and I had to pull it to shore as best as possible. Pulling Russel from the canoe was a great plan until he fell into the water. Gabbing his arms and pulling him, I managed to get him out of the water and onto the shore.

Inspecting his body, he now had brown fur reaching from his hands to his arms and neck. Thinner brown hair surrounded his mouth and swept to the back of his neck. His lips were leaner and more floppy in his current state. Checking his mouth also confirmed he was still breathing. The hit to his head must have knocked him unconscious. The shock of physically knocking my old friend out began to set in.

What was happening to us affected Russel much worse than me. The way he swiped at me on the water was terrifying. Russel would never assault someone like that, something about his gaze was off as well. Russ didn't seem like himself, almost like he wasn't on the boat.

His body began to move, and his arms lifted and fell. Afraid he would attack again, I ran for the cabin. Looking back at the awakening man from the door like a coward. Russel rolled onto his stomach and got onto his knees; staying in that position for a moment gave me the fear that it was not the man I knew. But he slowly brought himself into a standing position, stumbling as he attempted to stand.

"Dean? What happened?" He shouted tiredly.

"Russel?" slowly approaching him, he held the right side of his head with a paw.

"Where's the phone? Did Ted call back?"

Not wanting to repeat what had transpired on the water, I lied, "You fell getting in the boat and, uhh, hit your head. The phone fell into the water, but I couldn't find it."

"Oh, well, it should float. At least it's supposed to float," Russel turned to face the water, slowly shuffling to the edge.

"Russel, wait! The uhh, just wait for a second!"

"Dude, we have got to find the phone. How else are we going to...." Russel stopped at the water's edge, looking down at the now-calm lake. Dropping to his knees, he silently stared at the water. His hands slowly reached for his face. His hands then moved slowly to his collar, gripping his shirt and pulling, ripping his chest free. Russel turned around, his torn shirt revealing more brown fur across his upper chest.

"Russel, when you fell the-" I was interrupted.

"No, that's not what happened, Dean. The phone is right there," Russel pointed to the canoe, "I have the strongest bloody headache I've ever had. The paddle is broken, and you are super jumpy," Russel dropped his arms to his sides.

"Dean, what the hell is happening to us? What's happening to me?