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I've actually gotten a request for a Husk TF in the past, but I ended up denying it cause I wanted nothing to do with Hazbin Hotel. However this time I decided to just go ahead and give it a try. So if the person who's request I rejected is reading this, I hope this makes up for it
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Mark was what people would call a ‘ramblin’ gamblin’ man’. He was in his mid-40s and had been divorced twice, leaving him with not much to his name other than his cheap, dirty apartment, the clothes on his back, a shitty TV, and whatever money he had left after he paid rent. And with what money he did have left, he went and gambled at the local casino which had a name, but nobody cared what it was. (I’m so good at writing comedy you guys)
And tonight was no different. After sitting alone and going through his voicemail filled with messages from his ex-wives screaming at him to pay child support, he hauled himself off of his moth-eaten couch and out the door. He stopped to watch two random kids mug an old man, but didn’t do anything to stop it. He always found it was just better to look the other way.
Mark soon walked into the casino and sat down at his favorite slot machine. He liked to think he’d gotten pretty good at it over the years, even though it was luck-based, he just felt…better at it.
And like usual, he would make a…not good, but decent amount of money off of it. Enough to go and indulge in the Casino’s bar for a bit. And once his mind was satisfactorily scrambled from the titanically strong drinks the casino served, he headed on over to the poker table.
Mark walked over to a door marked ‘Premium Poker’. He could’ve always gone over to one of the typical, multi-player poker tables…but somehow throughout his whole time of coming to this casino, he’d never been back here, and since he as too drunk to properly ask about what was back here, he invited himself into the room.
It was dimly and ominously lit, with one singular hanging light in the ceiling. In the center of the room was a bland wooden table with two chairs on either side of it. The room’s walls were coated with aged plywood that was painted red, and the floors were made of a dirty, cracked concrete.
Mark was snapped out of his examination of the room when someone sharply cleared their throat, clearly annoyed at Mark’s drunken gazing. Then the sounds of wings flapping stirred him further.
“Are you going to fucking sit down?” The voice asked, then Mark looked over to the table again, finally seeing who was sitting on the other side of it.
Well…he actually couldn’t quite see whoever it was… but he could make out some details. Like the annoyed, glowing yellow eyes piercing through his soul, and what appeared to be a cat-like face -complete with tufts of cheek fur-, vaguely illuminated by the nearly dead lightbulb of the room.
“…Any fucking day.” The person said, his annoyance continuing to rise.
Mark assumed whoever this guy was was just wearing a costume and sat down at the chair across from him. Though this didn’t give Mark any better of a look at him.
The cat person grumbled and pulled a deck of cards out of seemingly nowhere, then began to shuffle them. “…You already know how to play, don’t you?” The cat asked.
Mark slowly nodded. “Yeah, I do. But why’s it called ‘Premium’?”
The cat rolled his eyes at Mark’s question. “Bigger risk, but bigger reward basically. You play until you either run out of money, or just can’t play anymore. Try to leave early and there’ll be hell to pay.”
The cat then dealt out the cards…to any normal person, this all would’ve been extremely suspicious. But Mark was neither a normal person, nor sober, so the red flags went right over his head.
And so…Mark played poker. He played poker with some weird ass cat furry who was probably planning to kill him. But how could he focus on that when he was on such a great winning streak?!
The side of the table was piling up with more and more money, all of which had been won by Mark. Meanwhile the cat just seemed to get more and more grumpy the more he lost. Eventually though…he started to talk again.
“Alright bastard, since you seem to be so good at winning, I’d like to offer you a little deal. Win this next hand, and you get every little bit of cash out of my stash, but if you lose; you’ll lose more than just all your money…” He said.
And since Mark was a drunk idiot, he accepted the bet.
The cat snickered mirthlessly and dealt out the hands…
Mark excitedly looked at his hand and giggled. A four of a kind. ‘That cat doesn’t know what’s coming to him!’ Mark thought, not even bothering to trade out his last card. He looked up at the cat, who looked to be on the verge of spitting in disgust at the sight of his hand.
Mark laughed haughtily and slapped his hand down on the table, then looked back up at the cat. His blood ran cold at that moment.
The cat was staring dead into Mark’s eyes, with a toothy and malevolent grin spread across his face. He then laid his hand down.
“Read em and weep…” He crooned. Mark’s blood ran even colder upon the sight of the cat’s hand.
A Royal Flush. The absolute highest-ranking hand in poker.
Mark immediately shot to his feet and attempted to run out the door, but as soon as he turned the knob, he found it wouldn’t budge. Not even a little.
The cat chuckled in amusement. “Told you that you’d lose more than just your money…so let me show you just what I meant.”
The sounds of wings flapping could be heard again, and Mark suddenly felt a wave of pain shoot through him, and he fell to the dirty concrete floor. His ears began to feel like they were on fire. He yelled out in pain and grabbed onto them instinctively. Soon after he did that, Mark could feel his ears growing. They slowly thinned out and became more angular. It felt as if someone was pinching them with the jaws of life and forcefully extending them and dragging them up the side of his head.
Mark’s grey and messy hair then began to grow out all over his head, stopping around his face, which turned a ghostly white. The hair, or rather, fur then grew out from his cheeks, forming two spiky tufts on either side of his face. His nose then rotted away from his face, leaving behind a heart shaped crevice in the center of his face. The final change happened to Mark’s facial area when his eyes turned the same black and sickly-yellow that the original cat’s was.
Mark tried to get up and beg for the cat to stop whatever it was doing, but no sound came from his mouth other than pained grunting and screaming. Why was nobody coming to help him?! Didn’t anyone hear him?!
He let out another sharp cry of pain as his fingernails began to grow tremendously. But not only did they just grow out, they seemingly began to subsume his entire fingers, as the skin hardened into tough-as-steel keratin, and the edges of the fingernails began to edge out into claws. His palms then began to balloon out into bright yellow paw pads. He let out another scream of shock and pain at this moment, and it would only get worse once he felt the fur on his head coat his entire body.
The worst pain yet popped up in his back. It felt like someone had chopped into his shoulder blades with a meat cleaver and was now pulling all of the muscle and bone out with their hands. The reason for this would soon be revealed as a pair of large, extravagantly patterned avian wings burst out of his back, ruining his shirt in the process.
Mark let out his most fearful cry of fear yet as he subconsciously flapped the wings about. He shuddered as they moved under his brain’s command, proving that yes…this was all real.
A similar feeling shot up in his backside as a long, wiry tail began to grow out of it. Once it was finished growing, a large feather began to slice out of the end, searing Mark’s nerves even more. Mark at this point had tears streaming from his eyes from the relentless, stabbing pain.
Mark’s shoes then began to disintegrate as he tried to stand himself up. The floor felt absolutely grimy and disgusting under his new paws (The forming of which had gone unnoticed to him during the growing of his wings). Once he was shakily standing up, (using the chair for leverage) his pants themselves began to change, producing a set of suspenders that went all the way over his shoulders. With that his transformation was finally, mercifully over.
Mark could barely speak, could barely stand as he looked over at the cat.
“Wh….wh-what the hell did you do to m-me…?” Mark stammered out.
The cat laughed joylessly. “You lost to me, and since you were the third person that’s lost to me in a row, I’m finally free! AHAHA! You get to take my place now, good luck Husk, happy dealing!” And with a gargantuan laugh, one that sounded like the first bit of joy the cat had shown in years, the cat crumbled into ash…
Mark then stumbled over to the door and attempted to get it open once again, but sadly, it still wouldn’t open…Mark was stuck here…
…Husk sat down at the chair where the old Husk once sat. He sighed…wondering when the next player would enter…
Category Story / Transformation
Species Feline (Other)
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 21.7 kB
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