Happy Halloween! Free Story - Halloween Bite

Note: This is a werewolf transformation story, not giantess.

Three hours before the big Halloween bash at Marigold University’s banquet hall, Ashley Franklin was called in to see the English professor. She had a history with Clementine Vicars, one that needed to stay as low-key as possible. Why, after all these months, would Clem want to see her?

Marigold was emptied out, especially this late after the last evening class. Most teachers kept their students until almost ten o’clock, but Halloween was a big deal—especially when it fell on a Friday. Most students left to join younger brothers and sisters in Trick-or-Treating, some went off-campus to parties, and a few remained for the prestigious Marigold Lock-In.

The sun was still high in the sky, so she had time to get back to her dorm and change into her costume—provided this meeting with Clem didn’t last long.

When she reached her professor’s office up on the third floor of Connally Hall, she rapped her fingers on the door.

A pleasant voice said, “come in,” so she turned the knob and entered.

Inside, she found not only Professor Vicars, but also the history professor, Mary Boyd. Seated opposite the formal ladies was Alex Horn, one of the sorority girls from Kappa Gamma Nu. Ashley had few dealings with the buxom beauty—but it was the same dealings she had with the seated professors.

She slowly understood the common denominator of this meeting. It was about what happened at the party back in July.

“Have a seat,” said Clem, tossing back her thick, blond curls. She was a beautiful lady, far more attractive than most of the student body who were half her age.

“What’s this about?”

“I’m wondering the same thing,” said Alex. “I have a pretty intricate costume to put together and we’re running out of time.” She glanced at the window. The sun’s light was weakening, but it was still far above the mountains.

Clem and Mary looked at each other, then Mary nodded curtly.

Clem said, “We need to talk about what happened last July.”

“I figured,” said Ashley. “Look, I’ve never mentioned that to anyone.”

“Me either,” Alex said, leaning up in her seat. She had beautiful breasts—Ashley was always jealous. Her own body lacked much when compared to this sorority girl.

Mary grinned. “We don’t care about that. It was fun. But we were all drunk and the two of us did something we shouldn’t have.” She patted Clem on the wrist.

Last July, the four of them had been talking in one of the upstairs rooms at the sorority house. Drinks were had, laughs were heard, and the four of them had more fun together than any could remember. Ashley and Alex exchanged stories later and came to the same agreement: Their professors had lots of pent-up sexual frustration. They were intense between the sheets . . .

“What happened?” Ashley asked. “I . . . had fun. Sorry if that was bad.”

“We had fun, too,” said Clem. “But we got aggressive. You remember? I . . . bit you, Ash.”

“I bit you, too,” said Mary to Alex, who only blushed and nodded.

Ashley shrugged and said, “So? What’s the big deal?” She remembered the bite—it was enough to bring blood, but such was the cost of promiscuity.

Again, the professors looked at one another, sharing the secret they were about to impart.

At last, Mary said, “We’re werewolves.”

A strange silence hung in the air as the two professors waited to gauge reactions, and the students waited to see if they’d heard correctly.

Finally, Alex said, “Huh?”

“You heard right,” said Clem. “We are werewolves and tonight, you will be, also.”

Ashley and Alex laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. It was some sort of joke. The professors wanted to pull a prank before the big Marigold Lock-In. She couldn’t understand why.

But the tone of the room changed when they noticed Mary and Clem were as stoic as ever. They waited for the initial shock to wear off before continuing.

Clem said, “Tonight, once the sun goes down, you’ll start to change. And then you’ll kill someone and you’ll . . . feel good about that. But it won’t last. This is a burden you’ll have for the rest of your life, and we apologize for that.”

“But we’ll help you deal with it as best we can,” said Mary.

Alex shook her head, “Wait, you’re being serious?”

Mary nodded.

Ashley said, “I don’t believe it. C’mon, what’s the joke here?”

Clem stared at her reverently. “No joke, love. We’re being sincere. If I were you, I’d lock myself away until the sun comes up tomorrow. You’ll thank us later.”

“I am not missing the Lock-In,” said Alex, venom in her voice.

“Yeah, I kind of wanted to go to that, too,” said Ashley.

Clem shrugged. “I figured as much. Look, the Lock-In is something we started years ago. For this very purpose. I’m sure you can see the pattern if you look into the university’s history.”

Ashley, without giving much thought, knew she was being serious—at least where Marigold’s sordid past was concerned. There’d been lots of murders over the years, all on Halloween. Only two happened on campus—that she could remember—but Marigold Fields, the neighboring town, suffered many.

1. “I’m not . . . I’m not going to listen to this,” said Alex. “I’m seeing Brent tonight!” She slid out her chair and stood—she was a statuesque lady with long legs and perfect hips.

Mary and Clem also stood, but it was Mary who said, “Make sure you stay on campus. We really need you at the Lock-In.”

“Yeah, done!” she said, and gave two thumbs up without even looking back. She pushed through the door at the end of the hall and disappeared to the right.

“Keep an eye on yourself,” Clem said. It took Ashley a moment to realized she was talking to her.

“Is it . . . is it really bad?” she asked.

The professors tried to look sincere and understanding. Clem said, “It is at first. But you’ll get used to it.”

Mary stepped in front of her. She was a tall lady, at least a head taller than Ashley. She spun her around toward the door, then whispered in her ear.

“We’ll keep our eyes on you. Remember, don’t leave the campus.”

***

Marigold University sat atop one of the steepest mountains in the county. Its sprawling network of buildings were all enclosed within towering, granite walls. Aesthetically pleasing as they were, these walls were meant for more than just decoration. They served the practical purpose of keeping the werewolves contained on campus, and during the Lock-In, there wasn’t an inch of space that could offer them escape from the mountain. Of course, Ashley didn’t know about any of this.

She was more concerned with her costume, or she had been before the meeting in Clem’s office. Now her mind couldn’t escape what the professors had said—they were werewolves, and she was going to become one, as well! She still didn’t believe it. Ashley figured there was more to the story, that it would be revealed later on.

For now, she turned her attention back to her costume—a sexy bee, although she didn’t think herself sexy at all. Her middle was filled out with Ashley’s ‘freshman twenty’ as they called it. She’d picked up a lot more than that over the years.

The Marigold Lock-In was centered around the banquet hall, just a hundred yards from Ashley’s dorm and Connally Hall. It was a massive building with lots of people already lingering in the parking lot. She spotted a sexy variation of every childhood costume—nurse, zombie, vampire, and witch, just to name a few.

Alex, whose sorority house was on the other side of campus, drove her car over. It was a sleek BMW—bought with mommy and daddy’s money. She stepped out, turning every head in the vicinity. How could anyone look so beautiful?

She was dressed as the Queen of Hearts. Her flowing red dress trailed the ground behind her. Each step she took, Ashley could see the golden tips of her high-heeled shoes. Atop her head sat a tall top hat. Her makeup was flawless, cheeks powdered white with rosy circles and deep, blood red lipstick.

She looked Ashley’s way as if she wanted to talk, but then a tall guy dressed in a banana costume raced toward her and wrapped her in a hug. When he tried to kiss her, she threw up her hands.

“Watch the makeup, watch the makeup!”

“Sorry, babe.”

This was Brent, the guy who’d been trying to get into her pants for the last three semesters. And despite Alex’s money, she still used him for his wallet.

Everyone started toward the banquet hall, the loud monster-themed playlist already belting out with a giant echo.

As the sun began to dip behind the mountains, Ashley became aware of an intense itch inside her boots. She wasn’t sure what kind of footwear a bee should wear, but opted for black boots simply because they matched the leggings.

She grabbed the doorframe and lifted her foot, then squeezed her toes inside the boot. It just occurred to Ashley how much she’d been sweating—she could hear it when she scrunched her toes together. But she couldn’t scratch right now—that wouldn’t happen until she took the boots off.

Inside the banquet hall’s main room, she found that most people were drinking around the tables or dancing in the middle. It was early, so students and staff were still trickling in. As soon as Ashley stepped inside, she felt a churning in her stomach that almost bent her over. Again, she leaned against the wall and collected herself. It was too hot inside the room—she was going to sweat right through her costume.

As she fanned herself, she looked up to the second story, to the balcony that ran the length of the room. Both professors were standing there watching her, each with equally flushed faces. Neither wore a costume, but Mary was nursing some pale drink in glass. Clem just nodded and smiled.

As Ashley stood and marched toward the nearest table, she couldn’t shake the fact that something was happening to her feet. It was almost as if they were too big for the boots . . .

***

Alex, having forgotten the words of her professors the moment she saw her costume in the mirror, looked across the room with scornful eyes. She hated these get-togethers, but opted to stay this time because of Brent. He had been trying to get into her pants for months now and lucky for him, she’d just grown tired enough of the campus fuckboys to give him a shot.

Tonight could’ve been a lot more fun—her sorority sisters were all going into town to O’Jamesons, the local-famous bar. Brent had better bring his A-game, she thought. He’d better be worth it.

Like Ashley who was seated at a table all by her lonesome, Alex was feeling the intense itching and sweating on her soles. She plopped down next to Brent and lifted her foot into her lap, then placed the shoe on the table. Since she was wearing red-colored hose, she couldn’t get to her bare foot, but she rubbed her hand across the material, anyway. It was so sensitive—almost like her nipples when she was close to her period.

And like her period, she was experiencing hot flashes. If she didn’t get cooled down soon, her makeup was bound to run down her cheeks. She turned to her imbecile man-child who was dressed like a banana.

“Aren’t you hot?” He wasn’t even sweating.

He leaned toward her and smiled, and for a moment she forgot that he was all looks and no substance. That was, until he spoke. “Not as hot as you.”

She rolled her eyes and continued to watch the guests pour in, happy in the knowledge that her costume was far better than all the rest. When she put her shoe back on, she didn’t like the fit of it. Something was wrong.

She banged it on the table, thinking she’d picked up a rock or something, but when she slipped it back onto her foot, it felt odd, as if it were made for someone much smaller.

Brent brought them drinks and she sipped slow, feeling that her mouth was just as odd as her feet. What was happening to her? Those professors got into her head, she realized. Never again would she get drunk and sleep with authority figures.

Two drinks later, Brent nudged her in the shoulder and said, “Look over there.”

She followed his gaze to the dimly lit hallway beyond the main room. A single doorway hung open, illuminating a dark room beyond. If her memory served her correctly, it was a party planning committee’s office. She connected the dots that Brent so easily laid before her and she grinned.

“Want to blow this place?” she asked. “I have no interest in watching shitty costumed people do the Electric Slide.”

“I don’t know what that means, but we can fuck in there . . . yeah?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well we’ll just see how it goes . . . yeah?”

He grinned like a kid in a candy store.

Brent lifted her to her feet and she almost collapsed against him. Her head was swirling—was it the wine? It couldn’t have been. She’d only had a two glasses and Alex was famous for holding her liquor.

“Damn, babe! Are you getting sick?” he asked, and put his arm around her.

“I don’t think so. I’m just . . . dizzy is all. It’s going away.” She stood up straight but couldn’t shake the feeling that her feet were . . . off. Her toes felt crammed into the shoes.

They walked the upper perimeter of the dancefloor and entered the hallway beyond. Above them, the professors watched, their skin looking darker in the low light of the windows.

***

Ashley barely noticed that Alex and her boytoy had crossed the dancefloor and disappeared into the hallway beyond. She was too busy assessing her own changes—her body felt . . . weird.

She glanced up at the windows and saw the purple light—the sun was almost gone. Did the professors really mean what they said? Or was she simply a ball of nerves based purely on her paranoia?

She was sweating through the costume now. The horizontal lines across her body were stained at the pits. When she rolled up her sleeve to scratch her forearm, she winced at the pain her nails caused. They were longer, she was sure of it. Ashley had never let her nails grow out so long.

After the dizziness left, she blinked and looked across the room. At once, she could pick each person apart by their scent. In that moment, she knew that the professors had been telling the truth. Why in the world did she insist on coming to the banquet hall, with so many people?

She stood and felt her knees popping beneath her black pants. They made her pitch forward awkwardly and she hoped no one noticed. Luckily, she was still behind the table, so she leaned over and put her palms on it.

“You okay?” came a sweet voice. “Andrea, right? No, that’s not right.” It was the custodian, Chuck—an older man who was always kind to her.

“I’m fine. Just . . . lunch isn’t sitting well.”

“Ah, say no more,” he said, then pointed down the hallway, opposite of the one Alex disappeared into just a few minutes ago. “I just cleaned the bathroom. It’s right down there.” Then, he turned and pushed his mop bucket away.

As soon as she was sure there were no more eyes on her, she turned and hobbled toward the edge of the room, then leaned against the wall. Something inside her was twisting and turning—she could hear it. This sounded like meat being hit with a hammer. Her body was certainly going through a change.

In the adjacent hall, she felt better, less exposed. The bee costume was coming undone because her body was changing. At the far end of the hall, she could see the purple glow fade. It was nighttime . . .

When her fingers came up to grab at the too-tight collar of the costume, she saw her nails, long and curved. The fingertips were turning brown, sprouting with tiny, coarse hairs. She grabbed the collar of the costume and ripped to accommodate her widening shoulders.

Just before the bathroom, she fell to her knees, then rolled onto her side. Ashley stared down at her feet as the boots began to writhe and wiggle as if something living were stuck inside them. But she could feel her toes elongating, now with nails long and hooked like her fingers. They ripped through the ends, spreading out the material as if it were no more than rice paper.

The tops of her feet were thickening with dark, coarse hair. Every patch of skin was disappearing, soaked up by the new growth. She tried to roll over and put her leg into her lap but couldn’t manage it. Right now, her bones and muscles were a funhouse mirror, a work-in-progress. There was no way she was going anywhere until the change was more underway.

***

A few minutes before the sun’s final rays disappeared over the mountains, Brent pushed Alex onto a sofa in the office’s front room. He’d already kicked the door shut and locked it—just two more items that should’ve been on her red flag checklist.

“What . . . did you give me?” she asked, vaguely aware that she’d sunk to her knees and that he’d slipped the bottom half of his banana costume to the side.

“What? Don’t be like that, babe. You just had a little too much to drink, that’s all.”

But she hadn’t and she knew she hadn’t. He’d put something in her wine. So when the change started—the change that Clem and Mary warned about—she didn’t realize it at first.

“Okay,” she said, momentarily buying into his words.

He pushed her into the floor. Already her legs were popping out of the hose. Thick, coarse hair was hidden beneath the veil of red. She kicked out of one shoe, feeling her toenails slice through the hose. The other foot spread out until the golden heel split right down the middle.

“Just let me take care of you,” said Alex. She fumbled for his pants as he relaxed, spread his arms across the sofa, and laid his head back. Her fingers were long and unwieldy and she hardly noticed that they were turning black.

She pulled his cock out and started to stroke it. Something about his heat drove her wild—she could detect his scent in a way she’d never experienced before. Brent didn’t notice her—he was too busy enjoying her lips around his cock.

It felt good to change. The beast inside was fighting the little pill she didn’t see him slip into her drink. Her body contorted, shoulders folding back, legs elongating. She had trouble bending at the knees. Black fur sprouted at her crotch and ran down her thighs until it dripped off her toes in long tufts. The dress was mangled beyond repair, the hose looking more like Swiss cheese.

Alex pulled off the top hat, her normally silky hair now stringy and coarse. She didn’t even notice how long her ears had become, nor how they were curled back in anticipation.

“Oh yeah, babe. Oh yeah. Keep that up and you’re gonna get a mouthful.”

But Alex’s mouth was also changing.

She had great technique, so even when her teeth began to taper and sharpen, she managed to hide them from the unsuspecting creep. The only thing he noticed was her tongue—now twice as long and wide.

He was beginning to realize something wasn’t right but by now her lust had taken over and it had driven out the effects of the roofie. She stood up, now a head taller than she’d been before, and straddled him. It was difficult in mid-change, but lucky for her, she still had all the right girl parts.

“Holy sh—”

“Shhh,” she said, and put a long nail to his lips. He was afraid, his body going numb. But a man was a man and she slipped him inside her and started to ride. Her fingers gripped the sofa next to his shoulders, the fluffy padding flying into the air . . .

***

“No one’s noticed yet,” said Clem, a floor above, lying on the tile with her clothes in tatters. She’d experienced this same thing every single year since her nineteenth birthday and it never stopped being arousing. Over the years, she’d experimented with different outfits—materials that would create different sensations, and she always opted for a pair of blue jeans and a silk shirt. The jeans always felt nice at her crotch just as her bush ballooned out.

Currently, she and Mary were in mid-change, just like the two ladies downstairs who were on opposite ends of the banquet hall. And both of them were in the proximity of the men they would kill once the transformation was complete. Clem and Mary had dealt with this before—it was a tricky situation, but manageable. Luckily, being in the werewolf club came with a long line of backers—prominent people with deep pockets who could make just about any problem disappear.

Clem and Mary had been together for almost every yearly change. They loved to watch each other become something new. Clem believed Mary was spawned by the first werewolf, as her fur came in a brilliant, fiery orange—or, Marigold.

“Do you think they’ll freak out?” Mary asked. She held Clem’s foot between her legs, massaging the sole, watching as it bristled with fur, as the toes lengthened and hooked. “The last ones sure as hell did.”

“That was a long time ago, and we didn’t get to warn them.” Clem threw her head back and said, “Last wave is coming. See you on the other side.”

She flipped around, burying her knees on the floor. Ass in the air, her tail ripped through the jeans, elongating to three feet. It slapped at the air like a powerful bullwhip. Her ears slicked back and tapered, becoming long and thin and filled with tiny, curly hairs.

No longer did she have a mouth, it had pulled away from her upper face into a snout. Her nose could discern every single warm body downstairs. When she smiled, her lips stretched across her whole face, revealing rows of sharp, pearly-white teeth.

Mary watched until her own final wave began. Each werewolf transformation was different, and this time her body seemed to stretch out and finish before her head even started. She still had her human consciousness when Clem was fully transformed. But then her own ears slicked back, her snout stretched out, and she sniffed the air. There were already two more werewolves below them. More elsewhere.

Clem looked at Mary, sniffed her, then licked her face. They were about to share this usual, sweet moment when they heard screams erupt from the main room. The girls had made their way back to the throngs of partygoers.

***

Four minutes earlier, Ashley had rolled onto her back and thrust her hand between her legs. The fingers were already long and spindly and the nails were sharp. So, she used the pad of her fingertip—or at least what it had become. No more did she have her unique prints. It was all covered over with coarse brown fur.

Her bee costume was gone. The wings separated and fell apart just as a ridge appeared along her back. She split the garment until there was nothing left. Fur sprouted all across her breasts and back. Her stomach, normally a little flabby, tightened and corded with muscles.

Her vision continued to change. Through amber-colored eyes, she saw the entirety of the banquet hall. There were others like her but those went unnoticed—she was more interested in the bright, red light that most people gave off. It was an aura—she’d read about such things in her paranormal romance novels.

Without even thinking, she threw her head back and howled, a loud piercing sound that ripped through the music. A sudden hush had fallen outside. Ashley lined herself up with the banquet hall’s main room and dug her heels into the tile. Her nails left behind long gashes.

Then, she bounded away on muscles she never had, reaching a speed she could never obtain. All at once, the banquet hall dispersed. People were screaming—girls in sexy witch costumes and guys dressed up as silly mascots for teams she’d never heard of before. But most of this went unnoticed because it was the aura that drove her wild.

Ashley shared her brain with the wolf, so she was in control of her thoughts. There was no malice there, no movie version of a ravenous killer. She was curious most of all. But in those running and hiding red auras, she honed in on one that didn’t seem like the rest.

This one was black—and this one belonged to the custodian, Chuck.

***

Neither Alex nor Brent heard the screams outside the party planning committee’s office because he was screaming just as loud. Alex had slipped his cock out just before the change completed. She was humanoid—bipedal but much taller with far more muscles than she’d ever had in her life—not to mention fur. The Queen of Hearts costume wasn’t even recognizable now.

She tried to speak but it only came out as a bark. Then, she met Brent’s screaming with a scream of her own—her mouth opened wide, lips curled back from razor teeth, and she roared. It made his hair blow back and it silenced him at once. She wanted to do it again, but now she was too enthralled with the black aura that surrounded his body.

And somehow she knew about the convenience store he’d robbed last year and the way he’d blackmailed a professor to give him a passing grade—and a blowjob. She knew about how he went out of his way to hit animals in his car. But most of all, she knew about the six girls in the last year that he’d roofied and raped. Brent was a bad guy . . .

He screamed out but it died in his throat the moment her teeth latched on and tore him open . . .

***

The main room was clear, the partygoers fleeing into the streets. They would go no further than the wall because that was their purpose. Ashley had no way of knowing that Mary and Clem had seen to it.

She honed in on Chuck who cowered in the lounge at the far end of the banquet hall. He’d been watching television all alone, a bag of chips across his lap. Ashley ignored all the bright red auras and focused on his, because within his soul, she knew his deepest secret.

Unlike Brent, Chuck had no list of past misdeeds. He’d lived a good life—right up until a few years ago when he got drunk and pushed his daughter down the steps. When his wife found out, he did the same to her. He buried them both in his backyard and made up a story that she’d left him and took all his money. The police bought it and so did her parents, citing the girl ‘had always been that kind of flighty.’

“Wait, please!” he begged.

But Ashley could only bark her derision. She rolled her head back and howled, her jaws shaking, spittle flying. And then, she went in for the kill.

***

Will they know where to find us?

They always know where to find us.

The exchange between Clem and Mary took a while to develop. But over the years, the werewolves could communicate with a series of barks and ear flicks.

It was nearly sunrise. Ashley and Alex had disappeared shortly after their kills, but that was normal. It was instinct to hide from what you’d done.

Clem and Mary were in the forest at the northern edge of the mountain. From here, they could see the rooftop of Connally Hall, half a mile away. No one came here other than cyclists but the bike trail had been overgrown with brush for the past three years.

Mary called this place the Wolfmoot, as it was the assembly and speaking area her kind had been using for the past two-hundred years. There was nothing there but a few stones arranged in a circle. Many of them had strange, twisting spirals carved into them but neither Mary nor Clem understood them. The spirituality of being a werewolf had gone the way of black and white television and drive-in movies. Still, Mary would’ve loved to have learned their origin story—for why did the change happen on Halloween night and not at every full moon?

She settled down against a log and watched as her feet slowly returned. The hair began to sizzle at the ends, little red embers that burned away, leaving her human flesh unharmed. Her excess nails fell off her toes and fingers, then the digits began to shorten. She always needed to have a mani and a pedi after reverting from wolf form. The change left her with jagged, ugly human nails.

The last thing Clem heard with her sensitive ears was the pair of werewolves galloping up the path. Unlike Clem and Mary, the newcomers sported bloody teeth. They’d killed, thus sealing the deal. From now until the ends of their lives, they would change every Halloween.

Mary raised an arm and pointed to the small lake by the clearing. Her hair was already sizzling and falling off, revealing her smooth, supple skin underneath. And just how instinct had told Alex and Ashley where to come, it also told them what to do. They galloped toward the water and dived right in.

A moment later they emerged, half their fur gone, but clean nonetheless. They shivered and shook out the water, then hobbled over to the professors who were also in mid-change.

Clem made a little yelp as her snout slammed back into her face. The teeth dulled and her tongue thinned. She smiled and coughed, then said, “It surprises me every time!”

Mary’s legs thinned and shortened. Alex’s ears softened and blunted. Ashley’s fingers separated and shrunk, then her toes lost a couple of digits on their way back to human form.

Five minutes later, the girls were close enough to their normal state that they could talk. Alex was the first to speak up, laughing and then freaking out almost immediately after.

“Oh my God, what happened? I killed him! I killed Brent!”

“No, you didn’t,” said Clem. “Your wolf did. And the bastard deserved it.” She turned to Ashley and said, “Same for you. We’ve orchestrated this for the past year. We aren’t savages. We kill those who are deserving.”

Ashley was crying and she couldn’t see. Her glasses had been lost sometime in the transformation. “But . . . but . . . everyone will know! We won’t be able to hide from this.”

“Of course you can,” said Clem. “As we speak, there is a team arriving at Marigold University to clean up. The bodies will be disposed of and we’ll go on living just as we always have.”

That calmed both girls. The four of them sat in a huddle, completely naked. For the first time in her life, Alex wasn’t wearing any make-up—the werewolf had shed it all.

“What now?” asked Ashley. “We are alone here! We can’t go back to our lives.”

“Yes, we can,” said Mary. “We do. We always have.”

Alex shook her head. “You two are tenured professors! We’re nothing!”

Before Ashley could agree, Mary said, “We’re not all professors.”

“We?” said Alex.

And then they heard the rustling in the woods. Alex and Ashley turned to see a group of women emerging from the trees—all naked. There had to be at least twenty of them, all ages, all body types.

The girls looked back to their professors with pure shock.

Clem smiled. “None of us are ever alone.”