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Description
Stock Used:

Woman: Gracie's Stock
Black Fly: Vermin Stock

Change of Life Virus
A Fly's Eye View

Crystal hated Northern Ontario. She'd grown up in the civilized southern parts around Toronto and living in small communities was a great hardship. No stores, no shopping centres and only the slowest of Internet connections. Add to that the yearly invasion of biting flies and you had a mix that no city girl could tolerate. So why was she there? A good question. Her husband was a doctor and one of the idealists that occasionally crop up. He could have set his practice up in a city and be raking in big bucks but he decided that a group of small towns needed a doctor more than he needed the money.

He was away at one of his clinics in one of the other towns, he had four of them, when she became deathly ill (or so she thought) with a strange cold that had arrived, as everything else did, via the local bush pilot. She was miserable, running a fever, achy. She decided she'd curl up with a book in the least insect infested portion of the house, bar the door and let the world go hang. The cold ran its course in only a few days but she nursed the feeling of hurt until her husband returned from his weekly rounds of his clinic. Being a doctor, he did the doctor thing and, discovering she was now well, informed her of the fact. This wasn't what she wanted, of course. She craved attention. Being stuck in a small town with nothing interesting to do was boring.

Even small towns in Northern Ontario, though, soon heard of the transformations sweeping the Middle East. People were slowly changing. Some into pigs, some into dogs. Crystal learned to her horror that the virus had been created by some madmen to punish the Arabs for the terrorists. No one quite knew who was to blame. A virus has no forwarding address. Suspicions fell on the very vocal Bishop Theodric, a fundamentalist preacher very popular for his Bible-thumping radio program that arrived every evening. No one could believe that a Man of God would be involved in such a plot. Local gossip had it a terrorist plot that had backfired and serve them right, too.

It was three months later before the world discovered that the virus had spread and mutated. It no longer only affected Arabs. Now, somehow, it was targeting women almost exclusively. Something in the male body was hostile to the virus and it couldn't grow. That was little consolation to Crystal when she discovered her skin hardening over her rump. Now she'd always been a bit vain about her looks so any changes were definitely not welcome. She, of course expecting attention from her husband, reported the changes.

Canada's north is sparsely populated. Unlike the major cities that could afford home quarantine, the remote communities had no way to handle the disease. Fortunately, there were many air bases built during the second world war that had been abandoned. These were quickly put back into commission as medical quarantine centres. Crystal soon found herself bundled away to a small, dirty and grey painted room at an old training field north of Lake Ontario. She was quickly joined by over a hundred others. This didn't sit well with her. This place was even worse than the small towns further north. There wasn't even a library here.

Soon, though, the federal government ran a new communications link to the centre and she was at last able to use Internet as it was supposed to be. Fast and efficient and access the critical resources such as eBay. Soon her horrible quarters were less horrible. Still not perfect but at least livable.

In the meantime, the hardening had covered her up to the base of her breasts and a strange bump was developing from her spine. This grew larger until it was as nearly as long as her legs. It quickly expanded becoming a bulbous flexible worm of some kind. Her legs, her lovely legs, were thinning alarmingly also. Within five weeks they'd gone from sexy to emaciated. Soon they were rubbery, too. Finally, they began to shrink, withering away until they were absorbed in the worm attached to her hips. Crystal learned to move by humping along on her stomach but found the position demeaning and degrading. Rather than face anyone in her condition, she ordered a plethora of books from eBay and only ventured out when the next shipment arrived.

She discovered a taste for meat, raw meat. She'd never enjoyed her beef anything but well done. But as her changes progressed, she moved slowly from well done, the medium rare to rare to raw. Raw was soon the only form she would eat and the greens they inevitably provided with the meal was ignored as disgusting. After nearly four weeks, her worm was as big as the rest of her body. The authorities had long since given up trying to feed her a balanced diet as she couldn't even tolerate vegetable material.

One evening, five months after she started her transformation, she began to feel tired, bone tired. She put it down to the horrible environment and lack of stimulation. She hated her husband for never visiting except over the Internet. Just because the camp was closed was no excuse in her mind. They needed doctors here, too. He should come to her and come quickly. Never mind all those backwater jerks he treated. Even getting totally riled with her husband passed all too quickly. She was too tired to even get a good mad up. She decided to turn in early but found the bed uncomfortable. She humped around the room until she found the darkest corner and curled up there. As she slept, the next stage of her transformation occurred.

Three weeks later, Crystal awoke. She fought her way out of some kind of casing that covered her and stood panting on the fragments. Stood? The strangeness of the position penetrated her sleep fogged mind. She had legs again. Looking down she discovered six legs sprouting from her belly. Her self-evaluation soon turned up other anomalies, too. She had wings and was covered by a stiff fur. Carefully picking her way to the one mirror in the place, she discovered why everything looked so strange. Her head was dominated by huge green facetted eyes. No wonder she could see completely around the room without turning her head. It was, to say the least, nauseating. This soon passed as she got used to the panoramic view. It was then she got a look at the kind of insect she'd become. Of all the things that the transformation could have chosen, it had chosen her worst enemy -- the biting fly.

Half flying and half hopping, she made her way to the door which had been sealed by the authorities. The plastic tape wasn't designed to hold anyone in or out really, just to provide some measure of privacy for the occupant. Crystal tore the tape to pieces with satisfaction and scuttled out into the sunlight. She decided that she'd best get over to the medical centre. They'd need to know she was awake again or she'd not get fed, likely as not. After scuttling on her legs for a few feet, some urge took hold of her and she began to flap her wings. Without ever having learned how, she discovered she was flying and flying well. Only minutes later, she landed at the medical centre and made another discovery.

Everyone was much bigger than she was. Now Crystal had never been a tall woman but she was quite a bit smaller now. From head to tail, she was little more than 135 centimetres long. She found herself looking up at everyone. The doctor in charge of the quarantine centre quickly hustled her in and gave her as good a workup as he was able. There was little he could do save confirm that her hearts were working fine (yes, she had several now), that her reflexes were good (actually, they were considerably better than they'd ever been) and that she seemed in good health. Her weight was down (as might be expect being somewhat smaller than she'd been a few weeks earlier) to less than 35 kilos but he wasn't sure whether this was something to worry about or not.

In the end, he merely added her back onto the camp roster and sent her back to her room. As time progressed, though, Crystal began to notice a curious slowing of everyone and everything. It seemed they were moving about in slow motion. Either she was speeding up or the whole world was slowing. Never one to question things like that, Crystal merely took it in stride.

It was then the urge to feed struck. It had been hours since she'd escaped her pupa and she was hungry. But not for the fare offered in the mess hall, she wanted, no craved, fresh blood. Quickly launching herself into the air, she followed the scent that said large mammal on the wind and soon discovered a beef cattle ranch in the nearby bush.

The next day, the farmer was shocked to discover a dead cow completely drained of blood with some strange footprints in the dust at its side. As for Crystal, she was safely back in her room...

Description
Stock Used:

Woman: Gracie's Stock
Black Fly: Vermin Stock

Change of Life Virus
A Fly's Eye View

Crystal hated Northern Ontario. She'd grown up in the civilized southern parts around Toronto and living in small communities was a great hardship. No stores, no shopping centres and only the slowest of Internet connections. Add to that the yearly invasion of biting flies and you had a mix that no city girl could tolerate. So why was she there? A good question. Her husband was a doctor and one of the idealists that occasionally crop up. He could have set his practice up in a city and be raking in big bucks but he decided that a group of small towns needed a doctor more than he needed the money.

He was away at one of his clinics in one of the other towns, he had four of them, when she became deathly ill (or so she thought) with a strange cold that had arrived, as everything else did, via the local bush pilot. She was miserable, running a fever, achy. She decided she'd curl up with a book in the least insect infested portion of the house, bar the door and let the world go hang. The cold ran its course in only a few days but she nursed the feeling of hurt until her husband returned from his weekly rounds of his clinic. Being a doctor, he did the doctor thing and, discovering she was now well, informed her of the fact. This wasn't what she wanted, of course. She craved attention. Being stuck in a small town with nothing interesting to do was boring.

Even small towns in Northern Ontario, though, soon heard of the transformations sweeping the Middle East. People were slowly changing. Some into pigs, some into dogs. Crystal learned to her horror that the virus had been created by some madmen to punish the Arabs for the terrorists. No one quite knew who was to blame. A virus has no forwarding address. Suspicions fell on the very vocal Bishop Theodric, a fundamentalist preacher very popular for his Bible-thumping radio program that arrived every evening. No one could believe that a Man of God would be involved in such a plot. Local gossip had it a terrorist plot that had backfired and serve them right, too.

It was three months later before the world discovered that the virus had spread and mutated. It no longer only affected Arabs. Now, somehow, it was targeting women almost exclusively. Something in the male body was hostile to the virus and it couldn't grow. That was little consolation to Crystal when she discovered her skin hardening over her rump. Now she'd always been a bit vain about her looks so any changes were definitely not welcome. She, of course expecting attention from her husband, reported the changes.

Canada's north is sparsely populated. Unlike the major cities that could afford home quarantine, the remote communities had no way to handle the disease. Fortunately, there were many air bases built during the second world war that had been abandoned. These were quickly put back into commission as medical quarantine centres. Crystal soon found herself bundled away to a small, dirty and grey painted room at an old training field north of Lake Ontario. She was quickly joined by over a hundred others. This didn't sit well with her. This place was even worse than the small towns further north. There wasn't even a library here.

Soon, though, the federal government ran a new communications link to the centre and she was at last able to use Internet as it was supposed to be. Fast and efficient and access the critical resources such as eBay. Soon her horrible quarters were less horrible. Still not perfect but at least livable.

In the meantime, the hardening had covered her up to the base of her breasts and a strange bump was developing from her spine. This grew larger until it was as nearly as long as her legs. It quickly expanded becoming a bulbous flexible worm of some kind. Her legs, her lovely legs, were thinning alarmingly also. Within five weeks they'd gone from sexy to emaciated. Soon they were rubbery, too. Finally, they began to shrink, withering away until they were absorbed in the worm attached to her hips. Crystal learned to move by humping along on her stomach but found the position demeaning and degrading. Rather than face anyone in her condition, she ordered a plethora of books from eBay and only ventured out when the next shipment arrived.

She discovered a taste for meat, raw meat. She'd never enjoyed her beef anything but well done. But as her changes progressed, she moved slowly from well done, the medium rare to rare to raw. Raw was soon the only form she would eat and the greens they inevitably provided with the meal was ignored as disgusting. After nearly four weeks, her worm was as big as the rest of her body. The authorities had long since given up trying to feed her a balanced diet as she couldn't even tolerate vegetable material.

One evening, five months after she started her transformation, she began to feel tired, bone tired. She put it down to the horrible environment and lack of stimulation. She hated her husband for never visiting except over the Internet. Just because the camp was closed was no excuse in her mind. They needed doctors here, too. He should come to her and come quickly. Never mind all those backwater jerks he treated. Even getting totally riled with her husband passed all too quickly. She was too tired to even get a good mad up. She decided to turn in early but found the bed uncomfortable. She humped around the room until she found the darkest corner and curled up there. As she slept, the next stage of her transformation occurred.

Three weeks later, Crystal awoke. She fought her way out of some kind of casing that covered her and stood panting on the fragments. Stood? The strangeness of the position penetrated her sleep fogged mind. She had legs again. Looking down she discovered six legs sprouting from her belly. Her self-evaluation soon turned up other anomalies, too. She had wings and was covered by a stiff fur. Carefully picking her way to the one mirror in the place, she discovered why everything looked so strange. Her head was dominated by huge green facetted eyes. No wonder she could see completely around the room without turning her head. It was, to say the least, nauseating. This soon passed as she got used to the panoramic view. It was then she got a look at the kind of insect she'd become. Of all the things that the transformation could have chosen, it had chosen her worst enemy -- the biting fly.

Half flying and half hopping, she made her way to the door which had been sealed by the authorities. The plastic tape wasn't designed to hold anyone in or out really, just to provide some measure of privacy for the occupant. Crystal tore the tape to pieces with satisfaction and scuttled out into the sunlight. She decided that she'd best get over to the medical centre. They'd need to know she was awake again or she'd not get fed, likely as not. After scuttling on her legs for a few feet, some urge took hold of her and she began to flap her wings. Without ever having learned how, she discovered she was flying and flying well. Only minutes later, she landed at the medical centre and made another discovery.

Everyone was much bigger than she was. Now Crystal had never been a tall woman but she was quite a bit smaller now. From head to tail, she was little more than 135 centimetres long. She found herself looking up at everyone. The doctor in charge of the quarantine centre quickly hustled her in and gave her as good a workup as he was able. There was little he could do save confirm that her hearts were working fine (yes, she had several now), that her reflexes were good (actually, they were considerably better than they'd ever been) and that she seemed in good health. Her weight was down (as might be expect being somewhat smaller than she'd been a few weeks earlier) to less than 35 kilos but he wasn't sure whether this was something to worry about or not.

In the end, he merely added her back onto the camp roster and sent her back to her room. As time progressed, though, Crystal began to notice a curious slowing of everyone and everything. It seemed they were moving about in slow motion. Either she was speeding up or the whole world was slowing. Never one to question things like that, Crystal merely took it in stride.

It was then the urge to feed struck. It had been hours since she'd escaped her pupa and she was hungry. But not for the fare offered in the mess hall, she wanted, no craved, fresh blood. Quickly launching herself into the air, she followed the scent that said large mammal on the wind and soon discovered a beef cattle ranch in the nearby bush.

The next day, the farmer was shocked to discover a dead cow completely drained of blood with some strange footprints in the dust at its side. As for Crystal, she was safely back in her room...