Hiding in The Genetic Park - 1
What went wrong? I asked myself that repeatedly during the trip like a department store television on an annoying loop. Listen it wasn’t my fault I spotted the guy printing counterfeit money in the basement of the apartment building, I stumbled into it. That… is… it. Wrong place, right time, and uncontrollable shit. The next minute I’m a witness to an internal mafia crime and the criminal threatened me I’ll be whacked. Which is why I was sitting in a black Ford Taurus, parked in front of my temporary home. Past the rainstorm smacking against the tinted window, the resort’s name shined through. I felt sick looking at it.
The Genetic Park. Headaches stirred already, not caused from jet lag. The rain didn’t help quell my frustration with the place.
“Mr. Phil Mavis, the CIA is behind you one-hundred percent,” said the woman sitting beside me. “I understand witness protection is difficult, but in previous attempts, this resort is the best option to protect your identity.”
I rolled my eyes, she didn’t see it, or maybe she did. “Yeah right, just shoot me in the leg,” I whispered, rubbing my tired eyes. I haven’t slept well for three days from traveling. Maybe... three hours total. One time I looked in the mirror and I swear my eyes were bloodshot.
“You are the fourth citizen to do this,” the woman continued. “Mr. Malcolm has a strong reputation with the government to house witnesses. Not really my place to go for protection. I would have preferred Brazil or in the middle of Maine.” I know she was referring her tastes. To me, Maine sucks during the winter.
A lightning strike went off in the distance, I counted ten seconds. I felt her poking my back. “At least turn,” she said. I obeyed as always since I met her. My eyes fell on a blonde middle-aged woman, but none of it said “mom working for the CIA.” More like “I love the gym, look at my rock hard thighs. Go patriotism.” With her black suit, white blouse with a few buttons loose exposing her partially tanned neck, and shiny high heels her body calmed me sometimes. I can tell she can run a mile, or two. Her cool green eyes pleased me every time. Still, my situation wasn’t making things happy.
“I’m not liking it,” I said to her. She asked why, like she forgot. “You know. The choice. I didn’t choose the park, you superiors chose it for me. Its like I’m being punished.”
“You signed the papers, it is official. You can’t back out on this one, unless you’re one of those witnesses with a death wish.”
“Death wish?” I asked. “No, I’m not the one to expose myself and get whacked. I’m the one that goes back to the resort that screwed me over.” I turned back at the sign and the rain. “This must be a nightmare,” I whispered.
Yeah that’s right, I’ve been to The Genetic Park before. Except, the first time was officially/not-even-close my last. The woman had the guts to remind me and cause a vein in my head to pulse.
“Yes, we know,” she said low and forgiving. “I’m sorry your former friends put you through that. Going in, changing… experiencing the opposite gender.” She either held back a laugh or felt sorry for me. “But as it explains, you have to follow the rules, even changing back to protect your life.”
This might be the time to explain. Between the window and the park’s gate sits as what travel journalists call the revolution of resort entertainment. A resort covering an immeasurable amount of land, including a beach, to hold several hotels, hosted activities, sporting events, even a commuting train between areas. You can find and do just about anything, even find love. I am one of those late bloomers to notice new things, especially the park. I spend too much time looking at 3D vectors for advertisement posters to care. Sadly my friends - former friends - invited me over for a week. Except there is one extremely huge detail I overlooked.
To actually go here, you must transform into an animal. Not like your family pet, more like a half-human/half-animal being, an anthro. It has something to do with a serum, changing DNA temporarily, and having the reflexes and dexterity of the animal you choose, stuff I didn’t hear about, or listen clearly Different story for me. I let the serum generator choose for me. Bad mistake. Did I mention the serum, if you decide, can change gender? Guess I didn’t, or the woman did for me.
Oh yeah. Guess who turned into a female snow hare for five days and suffer severe mental trauma. Now you can take a stiff drink because I sure do need one.
“Miss Parker,” I said. “I’ve spent a year in therapy, then another year regaining my career. Lets not forget I’m still in therapy.”
“Once a month to be exact,” she reminded me. “We are aware of your mental health and the restraining order. We had a meeting with the relationship coach and ‘TG’ therapist in the resort to continue with your sessions. She has plans to help get through your fears and help relax a bit.” She stopped talking and let me steam and flex my fingers. She handed me a wrapped folder. “Inside are your credentials for your new identity. Recap. You are to be changed, both species and gender once inside. You are forbidden to mention your old life, don’t trust anybody. Once the week is over, you are reverted to your old self, then take your case to court to send Wholmac’s son to jail. Just to note this is a step closer to be rid of that mafia.”
I took the folder, I didn’t bother to open it as I read the name. Riley Daniels. “Then why the hell are you reopening my wounds?”
Parker didn’t answer clearly. “Try to give the resort a second chance. At least you have nobody to be with, you have loads of time to think.”
“Yeah. Boredom. That’s what I’m worried about.” Like I said. What went wrong?
Parker nudged her head and the driver got out. He held out an umbrella when he opened my door. Outside the streetlights lit my way to the lobby. Rain kept on pouring, yet the secret agent driver wasn’t affected. Nobody else was there.
“Let’s go in,” she said. I looked at the gate again, a gaping maw waiting to swallow me back into hellish embarrassment.
I said nothing and went, using the driver’s umbrella to keep the rain away. I didn’t feel like fighting with Parker, those legs might kick me to Lake Erie.
I always hated the Genetic Park, blaming them for my mental trauma. Now the government was sending me back, both to protect me and maybe torment me. All three of us walked into the lobby, the air smelled sweet and artificial. Parker talked to the receptionist for my reservation with her assertive tone using my new name. I answered the right questions and signed the dotted lines on their waver forms. So much for blaming anything on them, I’m liable for my own actions. I didn’t glimpse at the new TG clause.
I think I caught the receptionist noticing me with a cocked eyebrow. Maybe she knew what happened two years ago. God I hope not. Parker slipped a wad of cash to disregard anything we say. Can the government do that bribe?
I had no possessions to forego. Parker handed me a set of grey sweats and a keycard. I know that the sweats are standard, able to adjust to all anthro forms during transformation, but never had the keycard before, something new I guessed. Parker left me alone to dress in the public lockers, putting my smelly clothes in a locker (three days without a wash) and dressing into the park’s clothes, with provided underwear. Even I tried to forget the resort, I still knew what to expect. It was a grey jogging suit I wore with the Park’s icon on my arm, although they were a bit tight for my body. My stomach was showing, the legs went up to the middle of my calfs, and I was barely chocking on the shirt. The hole where my future tail would be was open, the velcro strained from my wide waist.
No doubt fit for a woman. Damn her.
I had reason to believe Parker had something to do with it. The outcome I predicted looked grim. She called for me and I came out, feeling mighty embarrassed. She smirked, the driver was nowhere.
“Don’t start, woman, I’m still not in the mood,” I said. “Coming here was a mistake.”
Without a word we went to the DNA computer in front of several sliding doors, the boundary between human land and anthro land. She was first to it. “You’re not allowed to know what you’re becoming,” she said while pressing on my chest.
“Oh come on, give me a break,” I complained but spoke softly to not raise eyebrows from the receptionist. “If I find out you changed me back into a bunny girl I will pummel you to the moon.”
“Phil, I’m not that heartless. The species is different. Take a few steps back and no peeking.” She went to the computer, I stood there feeling nervous. I kept messing with my rentals. “Cheer up for once. Nobody comes here when it’s raining in winter. Be grateful for that.” How could I?
She inserted my keycard into a slot and made several commands on the touch screen. Parker made it look like she been here before. “You know, I never have the chance to come her for a vacation,” she said. Okay maybe not.
“Really. Sometimes I spent time on the website’s anthro maker. Heard about the wing additions, wonder how that will work.”
“Sounds like you’ve been trying to go since it opened,” I said.
She nodded and gave a quick glance at me. “Serving my country is my top priority, Phil.” Yep, patriot to the core. Must be hell for her love life.
She made a few more commands and the card was set, popping out in front of her. She gave it to me. On the side it read my witness protection name, “Riley Daniels,” my previous gender, and the hotel I’m staying in. A TG icon was at the bottom corner.
“Riley,” I asked.
“That is your new name. Works best between genders. Remember, once you are in, you are Riley, a file clerk for a paper company based in Chicago. You work alone and haven’t had a date in three months. You came her to get away and gain insight. You can meet new people, but stay in character and be cautious. Who knows how far the mafia’s grip reached. Got it?”
I nodded but she noticed the questionable look on my face. “File clerk? Sounds like Dorkville to me. Look, Parker, this will not work. How about an FBI agent working in check fraud. That way I can have something for a social life.”
Parker shrugged and didn’t smile to my Abagnale remark. “Just stick with the plan, alright?” It was worth a shot. Looks like changing my fake profession is inevitable, considering I can pretend to be a stereotype. “One last thing,” she said and gave me a small bag. “Inside is a cell phone specially programmed to call me only. You can’t call anybody else but allowed to access the Internet. Contacting friends and family is strictly prohibited as we can monitor the activity so no Facebook and Google+. Tomorrow you will get a page from Adrian to speak with you. I insist you answer. Other items consist of a journal and pen to write things, my card, and coupons. Oh and the keycard is linked to a limitless credit card.”
I smiled for the first time. “Limitless huh? Sounds like you want me to spend tax dollars for recreation.”
“Use with moderation. It’s to help cope with the change. Those red eyes sure do need sleep. Any last questions? Requests? Grumbles?”
I held up my finger, then turned around. Parker was curious but didn’t ask as I stared hard at a mirror. I made an imprint of my body, making sure I remember my true self. My brown hair looked and felt oily, haven’t shaven in a while, and I looked pale. And Parker was right, my eyes were mildly bloodshot, light red mostly.
“Yeah, just one.” I held up the card to her. “What will I transform into?”
Parker sighed. “Its better to find out. But to save face, the species is better than a bunny,” she explained. A new species was nice, but still, the girl part is not helping. “Go in. I’ll call you later tonight.”
Without another word, Parker escorted me to one of seven doors. I swiped the card as instructed and the doors hissed open. Inside was lit by one light above, a loop on the right side hanged open. I figured that was where the serum is to be injected into my wrist. I had last minute thoughts but Parker pushed me in. As the door’s hissed, I saw Parker smile and wave at me then closed. “Good luck,” she said through the doors, then nothing. Not even the sound of her heels.
Either I felt really alone or the fact that witness protection sucked.
The computer asked to swipe the card to commence the injection. Preventing the computer from saying it in it’s annoying computerized voice I did as told. Asking to place my arm through the hoop, I spent a minute staring at it. I knew the outcome, one half is the girl part, the other half was the unknown species. “Come on, Phil. It’s your fault for seeing the guy. It’s only for a week. You have no friends to torment you,” I whispered. Standing there another minute and the voice become irritating, I inserted my arm. I felt a short prick on my wrist. I pulled it out, noticing a small dot of blood already coagulating to seal the hole.
Day one has begun.
The doors in front of me hissed open into the Genetic Park. It was raining there too in the thick forest. A long awning covered the doors as rainwater fell like streams and on the sidewalk. The platform for the tram was deserted. And by fate a tram came for me with six cars behind just three minutes later. I had to blink twice to notice the driver. He was a lion anthro, African, wearing the resort’s uniform. Last time that freaked me out, but I didn’t care to say hi.
“Welcome to Genetic Park,” the automatic voice from nowhere said. “Please approach the tram as it will take you to your hotel. During the short trip the transformation will commence. Have a wonderful day.”
Wonderful day my butt, I thought.
I sat in the tram, the car shielded me from the rain, and it drove off through the forest. Maybe it was the smooth ride, the rain, or the comfy seats but I was falling asleep for once. I know it wasn’t from the serum, I was wide awake last time. Guess that all that traveling finally caught up to me. I slumped to the side and let the rain sing its lullaby in my ears.
I lost track of time. I felt someone stirring me from my sleep. I didn’t open my eyes knowing it was the lion anthro. Also… I felt those odd, alien, and familiar feelings with my body
“He come on, wake up,” the lion said.
I shook my head and groaned. I didn’t want to go, the nap was good and I’d rather sleep in the tram for all I care. “Miss, ah… sir, I don’t want a stowaway. You’re gonna make me get into trouble.”
My leg fell, the alien leg, except from my memories this one had different toes. I moaned, giving up, but my moans sounded different. The new voice jarred me awake. The rain was still going as it rose to my heightened hearing. With my eyes opening I first noticed my improved vision with a hint of nigh vision. “That’s right. Up and atom,” the lion said. He pulled me up to have me sit square with the seat.
Blinking again my head dipped to see a sight that would make me scream. Two orbs on my chest were covered by the sweatshirt. Down below I saw smooth and toned legs and my feet were padded paws. I noticed the fur was white with black spots. I flexed the toes, as they were mine. To my side I spotted my tail, long as my legs, puffed, black rings along the length and ending with a puffed up ball of white fur. It moved to my command and I grabbed it. It was definitely mine.
The Genetic Park’s serum does it’s job well. I was something quite abnormal, but normal around here. My mood didn’t cause me to scream and cry in front of the guy, that’d be weird. I sucked in my fate the moment I signed those damn papers.
“I’m a catgirl,” I admitted. I would be startled by the female voice if this was my first time, but it’s the same voice as last time. “Well this is just great.”
“More like a snow leopard,” the lion anthro cleared up. “It’s a popular form during the winter months.”
I raised my hand to feel my head, feeling longer hair and two perfect triangle ears, flexing and flicking to my touch and all sounds. “I must’ve slept through my transformation. How long was I out?”
“Thirty minutes. About as long as arriving to your hotel. You must have a low resistance. I’m tellin’ you, being the only one on the tram, I’ve never heard anybody snore as loud as you. As your voice was changing it became quite comical.” He smiled, but I issued a nasty glare to prevent laughter.
“Did I ask for a complement,” I snarled.
“Uh… no disrespect, I’m only pointing out the obvious.”
“Whatever,” I told him. “I’m not in the mood to be laughed at.” I grabbed Parker’s bag and as I landed on the covered station, I almost fell. I didn’t count my new body, its new center of gravity, the digitigrade legs, and the paw-like feet. The tram driver caught me by the arm, inches from my new breasts.
“Whoa there, take it easy,” he said. His hands held tight on my arm. He let me find my stance, then I pulled my arm away.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
The lion anthro backed away, my voice had a tinge of my angered cat side. There were reasons why I did that. One is the lack of sleep. And two is the girl figure. Even as he didn’t know what to do next, I bit the bullet and apologized.
“It’s alright, my mistake. Anyway the hotel is right along the path. Good luck with your TG vacation.” He waved goodbye and got back into the tram. I watched the tram drive off.
The hotel’s lights were on with a pathway lit by powered and solar steak lights. The rain became lighter but was still considered to me as, “I will get wet.” Feline instincts were kicking in no doubt. Conveniently I spotted a basket of black objects with a sign saying “Umbrellas.” I took one, opened it, and made my way.
“When I get out of here, I’m gonna kill Parker,” I muttered.
Inside the hotel, I realized it wasn’t the hotel I stayed in before. This one’s interior almost, ALMOST, made my jaw drop. Imagine a log cabin in the middle of the woods, Washington perhaps, then imagine a prized and award winning architect blowing that up into a ten-story lodge. Everything echoed, and the rain made a echoing presence inside as well. At the top was a chandelier made out of deer antlers and on each tip, light bulbs were lit. All around the furniture produced an intoxicating feel of hominess. Large couches good enough to sleep in, maple wood desks, chairs, and coffee tables, a lit fireplace for the fall, and a small but closed coffee place in the far corner of the lobby. People were allowed to make their own lattes and French pressed cups.
Approaching the front desk stood a single employee, a female deer anthro. Leaning on the desk and twiddling with a pen, I suspected they were experiencing slow business, or that it was almost eleven and she is in charge of the night shift. I stopped and she looked up. She became surprised and shuffled herself from lazy to professional.
“Evening miss, welcome to the Redwood Lodge. I trust your trip and transformation was not too difficult,” she said smiling.
“A little.” Calling me miss almost made me snap at her. Had to keep my cool for the good old CIA woman.
“Do you have your keycard with you?”
I gave a single nod and handed it to her from my sweatshirt pocket. After she inserted it into a slot on her computer, her eyes went wide and her ears quivered. “Oh dear. I-I’m so sorry for calling you miss, Mr. Daniels.”
I sighed. “It’s fine. I’m in no mood to care.”
“Let me guess. You chose the random button?”
“Not really. A friend preprogrammed it, as she paid for the whole thing. I knew this would happen, her sick humor is… tolerable.” I had to leave out Parker. I’m not much of an actor, but from my point I was rather good at it. I was running with a sick and twisted college roommate story rather read what was in the file.
“Sick as in kinky?” She asked.
“Don’t push it.”
“My mistake, Mr. Daniels. Sorry for intruding.” She typed away and pressed the screen to find my reservation. “Let’s see. I have you on the fourth floor facing the pool. One person. Non-smoking.” She grabbed a folded envelope and handed it to me. “In there are coupons to all our amenities like the gym, spa, and sauna. You’ll also find your room number on the front. And one more thing.”
She reached into a drawer and handed me a pin. Within the black circle was the letter’s TG in plain white. “All TGs have one and must be worn at all times. It helps with the confusion. Good souvenir when you leave.”
She placed it on my paw. Shaking my head I placed it in my sweatshirt’s pocket. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
The deer leaned forward and I noticed her name tag read Grace, refraining from upsetting her from a weary stare. “Sounds like you been here before. Your reservation says you’re a first timer.”
“Mmmmm… not really its…,” I started, but I paused remembering Parker’s orders. “Eh, never mind. Must be the jet lag messin’ with my head.”
“Could be. Hope you’ll make friends here.” You don’t have to tell me twice. ”Will there be anything else?”
“No, I’ll find my own way,” I answered.
“Okay, have a good night.” I nodded, but my dread was still showing.
Been around a lot of hotels, it’s the dread of traveling between marketing firms. I took the elevator, not wanting to use the stairs to explore my new found strength, or the chest. The slow season made an impression on the place; nobody was here, or they were and they are hiding in the rooms from the rain. For some reason, I was thinking Stephen King while walking down the hallway. I found my room, using the keycard to enter and close the door quick.
My room had the same design motif as the lobby, trying to have that “home away from home in the great outdoors” feeling. The usual guest room items were there: a bed, small couch for two, a chair designed for all sorts of anthros under a desk, TV, bathroom, and a covered window indicating the balcony. The air smelled like pine and with my heightened sense of smell, I detected traces of lemon scented cleaner and blueberries in the bathroom.
“Yeah, pamper the witness, Parker,” I said into the emptiness. I did two things: turned on the TV to the music channels playing some grunge music by The Supersuckers and Rob Dickinson and crashed on the couch. I had to make sure I didn’t sit on my tail. I checked the bag and what she said was there: a government-modified Android phone (spent ten minutes changing the settings), her card, the thin journal and pen, my new identity, and a packet of park coupons. I set them on the table and leaned back sighing. The orbs made their weight known to me.
“Please, this must be all a bad dream.” Looking around, my eye fell on an object I didn’t expect. A full size mirror on the wall, angled at the couch and me. I never saw my reflection after the transformation. Slumping on the cushions the girl looked quite pathetic. I had no choice but to see the handiwork. It will only be a week.
I stood before it, looking up and down my anthro body. I told myself I’m a man stuck in a woman’s body. I twisted my body this way and that, gathering as much details as I could. The feet were big, pure white fur, and at the ankle where the black spots started and into the pants. My feminine legs were sharp, long, and strong, fitting into the pants like a glove to exhibit my wide waist. My tail wagged slow behind me as I expressed calm emotions. When I was a bunny girl I was limited on the tail. Now with a longer tail means more trouble to knock things over. I was devoid of my six-pack and now had a very flat stomach under the fur, and then I moved to the breasts. They looked the same as before, perfect Cs, with no bra; I didn’t take my shirt off to see you perves. My delicate arms had a small hint of muscle and my paws were like having the human side, but on my palm were circles of black pads. My face was definite female, the small black cat nose, cleft lip, short white whiskers and a wide forehead. My hair grew down to my shoulders, but I blinked when I noticed brown highlights. The ears were grey with a black trim.
If a man sees me, he would think I’m the hottest person on the block, if he had a thing for anthros. None of it pleased me. Everything felt wrong. I had the same voice, the same eye color (light green), and the same chest as last time.
“I have doubts I will have a good time here,” I said feeling how sharp my fangs were. I dared not to touch deeper of my body. Bad character. When I had enough looking at myself feeling sick, I felt like doing something.
The hotel didn’t supply me with my own set of clothes. The complementary transformation sweats felt like prison clothes. I grabbed my card leaving the cell phone behind, talked to the receptionist about any clothes stores open this late at night, and I was off walking through the rain again.
I found one not to far away from the pool, offering styles from the norm to the designer. I shook my head and got a weird look from the bear anthro at the desk as I skimmed through the male section. I would be caught dead in the woman’s section, and I had too. I only took the necessary of items, nothing to flashy, nothing to short, just clothes to said to others “touch me and bye bye throat.”
It was black pants with cargo pockets, a long sleeve black shirt with like this crazy, graffiti art in front, and this grey cargo vest with hood that goes down to the middle of my stomach. The underwear was plain white panties and white sports bra ( I hate the hooks). I knew I can’t live with the same clothes, so I picked out several pieces for a weeks worth, along with bathroom items.. The bear anthro seemed irritated as he calculated my items.
“It has been a long time since a TG came, almost believed they deleted that option,” he said.
“You don’t say,” I added. If he means that I’m the only TG in the park, I’ll be so pissed. Not that I want to hang with other TGs, it sounded like I’ll be an oddball of sorts.
I paid the items with the black hole card. Then I had an idea. “Hey, is there any way this stuff can be delivered to my room?”
He closed the register and said, “Sure, I can inform the bell hops.”
“Good,” I said. “Another. Where can I get stiff drink that can make my eyes wide?”
“There’s Rusty Pete’s two blocks from here. Open 24/7. Why do you ask?”
“Because I want to make sure I’m actually sleeping on the plane.” He understood my frustration from my tone. Nodding he put the stuff in the bag and set it aside while I went out, still raining with my umbrella open, and about to attempt to feel better.
Even if it means getting drunk off my ass and get thrown out of the park.
What Do We Know - Titan Spires
Sorry for making you feel lost but there is backstory to this one. ~MaLAgua has written a series called The Genetic Park about a restort where you transform into an anthro of your choosing, regardless of species and/or gender. The main character is Tom, who unfortunately lets the transforming technology choose his form randomly and gets stuck as a female cheeta anthro for a while. I love the character dynamics and the setting he created.
So early one after reading all the stories, i got to thinking. What would happen if witness protection got involved?
Conclusion. Phil and his week of facing his fears and avoiding the mafia. This was written in between Detox and Mana Pool but left it alone when interest diminished.
Be aware, I had this story in the cooker for a year and just this week I brought it back to life. I only written four parts with an unfinished plot line. If you want to keep me posting this story and it's parts, feel free to speak up. You can read the series from ~MaLAgua at this [link]
Also read The Taur Virus [link] our collaboration.
As always, comments are appreciated.
I would certainly like to see how this story continues. Your writingstyle fits well with this story and this is as good as Malagua's story itsself.