Clucked! - 3 (Patreon)

Something was beeping. 

It didn’t sound like my alarm clock, but it must have changed its sound. I raised my arm, or tried to, but something didn’t let me and I was SO TIRED.

The beeping continued.

I didn’t want to be awake. Awake wasn’t what I wanted to be.

The beeping.

I opened my eyes. I wasn’t in my room, though I was in a bed. It took a moment for the clouds in my head to clear.

Hospital. The beeping was a heart monitor. Felicia sat in a nearby chair, and mom sat in another. 

“Mom?” I said. Both of them looked up at me.

“You’re awake! Thank god!” Mom said, coming to my bed. She was behind some kind of screen though and I couldn’t move my arm to see what it was.

“You're in a containment bubble, Jimmy. They want to make sure you’re okay.

I frowned at that but was too tired to panic.

Felicia stood next to mom, looking down. “How you feelin’ chicken-boy?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.”

Felicia laughed at that. “You did, baby. They say if you hadn’t been wearing that chicken suit it would have killed you too.”

I tried to glance down, but something held my head immobile. “I can’t move my head.”

“They have you in a brace, Jimmy.” Mom said. “Until they can see the results of the x-ray they don’t want you to move at all.

I nodded—tried to nod.

“Thanks for coming,” I said to Felicia in my rough voice.

She shrugged. “When someone do something to one of my chickens, I comes running like a mama bear! Watch out!” She held up her hands and bobbed her head.

I chuckled.

“Seriously though,” Felicia said. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Jimmy.”

“Guess I won’t make our date on Friday.”

She chuckled at that. “You jus rest up and we’ll see about that, chicken boy.” 

I tried to nod, and closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, the doctor had pulled back my eyelid and was flashing a light in it. He wore a tyvex suit as did the nurse beside him. They looked strange, like aliens, and I really didn’t want to be there anymore.

“Am I gonna live doc?” I said, my voice coming out raspy and kind of high.

The doctor nodded and made a few notes on his clipboard as he examined me, silently.

“Well? I said after about 45 minutes in which he poked, prodded, tested, verified and documented.

“I think we can remove the quarantine,” the doctor said, unzipping the plastic bubble, and shedding his suit like a second skin.

“Whew,” I said. “Wasn’t much air circulation.”

“Yeah, we don’t have a good containment procedure.”

“So?” Mom said. “How does he look?”

He took off his glasses. “Apart from a back sprain, I’d say he’s in excellent physical health.” He frowned as he flipped the page on his clipboard.

“However, your bloodwork has some concerning issues in it that we need to watch. You were exposed to some kind of unknown but radioactive substance that in turn was subjected to heat and to the biologic and latex implements of your suit. This has fused a bit somehow on a molecular level and is quite concerning. I’ve sent the results to the University of Arizona medical center, and they will be sending a hemotologist up to confer with you some more. For now, get some rest, and let that back heal.”

“Okay, doctor.”

I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to claim me again.

***

Later that afternoon another group of doctors arrived. They all wore a green breathmask as they again poked, prodded, drew more blood, tested, verified, and documented me for an even longer time.

A few days passed as I slept and healed from the back sprain. Mom, Felicia, Alton, and some of the guys from work passed through. I vaguely registered them since they kept me doped up, slipping in and out of consciousness. At one point I heard the doctors conferring with Mom who was crying, and I really wanted to waked up but had a difficult time opening my eyes.

At some point—(a few hours, a few days, a few weeks?) later, they removed the neckbrace and allowed me to sit up and drink some ice chips and a little water.

“How you doin?” Felicia said, holding my hand. She’d changed outfits and was wearing a black turtleneck sweater.

“Okay,” I said, my voice very raspy from disuse.

“You had us goin’ there a little while, Jimmy.” Mom said, appearing next to her.

“What’s happening to me?”

I could see the tears standing out in Mom’s eyes as she turned away.

Felicia gripped my fingers. “Don’ worry about that, now. Jus’ rest and we’ll see what happen. Them doctors don’t know what’s wrong, really.”

I was able to look down my body. It was covered with a blanket. For some reason my toes felt funny, and my left arm was numb. I felt prickly all over, and hot.

“Can you get them to turn up the A/c? I’m really hot for some reason. I moved my left arm to try to pull down the blanket, but it felt like something was holding it back and I was only able to thrash a bit.

“Sure, Jimmy,” Felicia said. Don’t try to move though, they got you restrained a bit.

“What for?”

She smiled. “Don worry about it none. Everything gon be okay.”

I nodded, trying to kick the blankets off my feet.

“Can you take this damn blanket off? I’m too hot.”

She reached down and uncovered my feet and part of my legs. Feathers extended down my shins to the chicken feet of the costume.

Feeling myself fading again, I asked. “Why haven’t they taken off the feet of the costume?”

But before I could hear the answer, darkness intruded.

***

The next time I woke up, they’d changed my position somewhat. I was laying on my side, and it felt like they had something behind my ass propping me up a bit. My body felt very strange, that sense of pins and needles and the strange numbness had had felt before. No one was in the room at the moment, and I had a hospital call button in my right hand.

I pushed the big red button, and a nurse came in, smiling, adjusting her bonnet.

“Well, good morning Mr. Goldman,” She said. “Have a nice sleep?”

“I suppose,” I said, or tried to say. My voice came out strange and harsh. I coughed a bit, trying to clear my voicebox, but was very congested.

“We’ve moved you to a different room as things have…well, progressed. Your family is still waiting for you, but they are in a waiting room. I’ve called the doctor and he should be here shortly.

I nodded, again trying to speak but only weird breathy noises came out. 

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to talk…the infection I suppose is the best word for it, has spread to your neck and throat. Just relax a few moments and we’ll get you sorted, okay?”

She walked to the window, and pulled up the shade allowing sunlight to enter.

I felt very strange, like I had to use the restroom badly. I struggled a bit, but again, I’d been strapped down. I put my hand down on the rail of the bed and tried to turn, but the nurse shook her head. “No, Mr. Goldman, you won’t be able to change positions much.”

I kicked my feet, and felt they’d been restrained too. I wanted the damn blanket off. As I thrashed my feet, it pulled up and again I could see the feet of the costume. Why was I still wearing it? 

“Ah, I see you are awake, good good.” A deep voice said, and a different doctor walked into the room. He took up a clipboard again and started looking at my chart.

I tried to clear my throat again, coughing, but he shook his head.

“As I’m sure you’ve been told, you won’t be able to speak. We’ve restrained you a bit for your own protection.”

I frowned, struggling kicking my feet, and the blanket moved a bit more too the side.

The doctor sighed. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, James. You were exposed to a highly radioactive agent under some rather extreme conditions. It has damaged your DNA, quite severely.”

I nodded, letting my feet relax a bit.

“You were wearing a costumer made from feathers, gallus domesticus to be exact, and unfortunately it has caused extensive chromosomal damage. We have pulled blood and have been able to ascertain that your chromosomes have split, fractured, and are repairing themselves in some way. This has stabilized at 78, not surprisingly and your body is responding in kind to this basic building block adjustment in your chromosomes.”

I tried to speak again, but could only cough again.

“All your bodily functions are in a bit of a turmoil. It’s been a bit touch and go, but you are surprisingly strong.”

Again I tried to speak, but could only cough.

“Sorry about that, Jimmy.” The doctor said. “Maybe this will help you to understand what’s been happening.”

He pulled the sheet down. Then released some of the straps, helping me off my side, and onto my back.

My head didn’t want to lie back anymore, the spine curved and I was staring at my front.

Which had feathers on it. I was still in the suit.

I tried to speak again, but this time a different sound came out from deep in my windpipe.

“Ahh, there it is. It looks like your syrinx is finally kicking into gear. You lost your vocal chords a few days ago, sadly.”

He pushed a button and my lower half began to sink toward the floor while my head moved higher up. I was able to see a bit more of my body in the suit, and he reached down, tugging my legs until they were freed.

I felt him tugging them. My toes twitched, and I saw the chicken toes of the suit twitch as well.

“As you can see, you are undergoing a fairly major transformation. Your skeletal structure, respiratory system, heart, lungs and kidney have already switched over to the avian system. Your digestive tract is in the last transition point as is your bowel and intestines. You have a well developed cloaca, ovaries, and crop. We’ll need to get you on some chick starter so your gizzard can begin to function as well.”

I felt dizzy as I saw what was happening. The doctor ran his hand along my shanks down over my…ribbed feet.

I lifted my right arm and saw feathers along the underside of it. My right arm had already grown into a wing.

“Open your mouth for me,” the doctor said.

I opened, and he reached in, plucking a tooth out. “Ahh, perfect. I’ll have nurse Davis come back in here and help with that, we wouldn’t want you to swallow any of your teeth.”

I felt myself shaking my head. This couldn’t be true! I felt my tongue in my mouth, feeling the hole where my tooth had fallen out.

“Communication is going to be a bit difficult, I’m afraid. Can you still understand me?”

I nodded, and again tried to speak but only managed that strange awk sound.

“The next major change will be to your skull, unfortunately, and time will tell if you will be able to survive it. I’m hopeful, however, seeing as you didn’t die when your avian heart began to beat, or your lungs filled with air for the first time. I suspect you will experience some discomfort, so we’ll keep you sedated if you are in distress.”

I nodded, making an awk in response.

“I was hoping you’d be some type of avian/human hybrid, however, your genomic structure is now almost completely gallus, unfortunately. You’re shrinking as well, losing about a foot per day, which is progressing. It’s really quite fascinating.”

I awked again, fluttering my wing, wanting to get him to tell me if he could turn me back somehow.

“I suspect by evening tomorrow your nervous system will be complete, and at this rate, you will be normal height…well, normal chicken height, the following evening. Then we can see what we might be able to do about reversing it. I didn’t want to try to introduce anything in case it damaged your survivability.”

I nodded, my head feeling heavy and ponderous.

“Try to get some sleep. It really does help things along when you don’t struggle.”

I nodded again, wanting to cry, but did I still even have the capability?

“I’ll bring your family in for a visit. We need to keep it short, however, until it can be a bit less…disturbing…for all involved.”

I nodded, feeling my eyelids droop.

“Okay! We’ll keep an eye on you, and you visit your family.”

The nurse led Mom, Felicia, and Alton into the room. They stared at me with wide eyes.

I awked again.

“She can’t really speak any longer,” the doctor said. “She has no vocal chords.”

“She?” Mom said.

The doctor nodded. “I’m afraid she’s becoming a female chicken. She has fully developed ovaries and oviduct, and we’ve found she’s producing oestrogen, progesterone, and androgene. All very normal for a hen.”

Mom nodded and took what remained of my hand. I could feel the feathers now, my fingers lengthening.

“I’m so sorry, Jimmy,” Felicia said.

“Dude, that sucks.” Alton gripped one of my chicken toes.

I wanted to say something, but the only sound I could make was the awk awk, I’d made earlier.

“She no longer has human vocal chords, and unfortunately won’t be able to grip a writing implement so communication will be difficult from now on, I’m afraid. She can understand our words still, though I don’t know what will happen once her brain has assumed it’s avian formation.”

Mom nodded. “So you can understand me, Jimmy?”

I nodded, putting my head on her shoulder.

“Aww, honey. We’ll figure out a way to undo this, right doctor?”

The doctor sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t understand how it’s happening in the first place. We need to fully understand that before we try anything to revert it. She’s in a very unstable state still, but it shouldn’t be long now before she’s settled into her new form and we can learn how much of her old…self…remains, that we can use.”

Alton just shrugged. “Dude, I’m so sorry.”

I wanted to tell them it wasn’t their fault, but had no way of telling them. Mom’s fingers slipped over my fingers as the rest of my wing formed.

“We’re going to have to get her on her front, instead of lying on her back. The doctor said.

Two nurses rolled in another bed that was basically just a circular platform with cushions.

“We had this specially made. Jimmy, we want you to try to stand up, and we’ll lift you onto this.”

I nodded as the two nurses lifted me under my arm…well, wing pits. I felt very off balance as my feet met the floor. It was cold, and I could feel my toes trying to grip the linoleum. I flapped my wings a bit, then  lowered myself over my feet like a catcher.

They rolled my bed out, and moved the circular one in place. Lowering it as low as possible he said: “Now try to step into the nest bed.”

I stood, and lifted one of my bird feet, flapping my arms a bit until I was in the center of the nest.

“Lower yourself so you are settled on your feet.”

I did as instructed, again crouching like I used to sit as catcher. My legs neatly folded underneath and I felt much better.

“There, perfect. Unfortunately, human beds aren’t designed for avian bodies.”

I nodded.

“Now, we have a catheter running up into your cloaca, and we’ll replace your IV since your arm has now become a wing. Don’t try to move around too much, until your nervous system has settled down.”

I nodded again.

“I’ll leave you now. See you in the morning.

I awked softly.

Shortly afterward, I fell asleep.