Jackson knew his university's cross-country team had rules in place against cheaters. But his mental gymnastics and a need to better himself somehow had convinced his mind that taking that new supplement he had found in the grocery store with the cheetah on the packaging that promised speed and endurance before his race couldn't really be considered cheating. It was allowed on other teams, after all. So, he popped the pill into his mouth before bed the night before, and another one an hour before he hit the course, washing the second one down with a glass of milk, which he had a strange craving for.
He itched at his neck absentmindedly while waiting for the starter to fire the starting pistol, consciously ignoring the fact that the hair he had shaved off last night seemed to have grown back thicker and wirier than he remembered. The only body hair he hadn't shaved off was the light mustache he had been trying to grow for the past month, and even that felt fuller than he remembered. "Oh, well," he thought. "No razors here to take care of this anyway."
The starting pistol went off and Jackson leapt forward from the starting line, dashing off at a quicker pace than he was used to. Yes! The supplement he had taken worked. Quickly, he found himself nearing the front of the pack, leaving stunned teammates and opponents in his wake.
Yet in spite of his newfound speed, there was an uncomfortability that Jackson couldn’t quite place. There was a pain coming from his behind, a pressure like something was trying to push its way through his skin. He couldn’t stop now, though, and lose all the progress he’d made. He just had to try and ignore the feeling that was growing stronger with every step he ran.
It wasn’t long before he noticed that people along the sidelines were beginning to stare at him as if something was wrong. He had long since overtaken first place and was well on his way to carving a new personal record for himself on the 5k, but the stares and watchful eyes were starting to grate on him. Maybe taking the supplement had been a mistake.
But the finish line was well within Jackson’s sight now. 100 yards… 50 yards… 25…
Jackson had never finished first before this race, let alone in the top three, so he was too excited thinking about himself on the podium for the first time in his cross-country career that he hardly noticed himself doubling over and running the last 20 yards of the race on all fours, bounding forward with inhuman speed. He crossed the finish line and straightened himself up to faces of horror and shock.
“What?” he asked to no response. Growing nervous, he rushed to the bathroom, simultaneously eager and nervous to see what about him was scaring the spectators.
Looking at his reflection, the terror made sense. Something had happened to him, and he was now an unrecognisble freak. Where once his human ears had been, his sandy blond hair had grown down and towards his chin, in thick sideburns. His ears now rested closer to the top of his head, smaller and rounded and covered in a thick layer of wiry fur. Black lines of fur had grown in from his eyes in a harp-shaped pattern ending at the seam of his mouth, which had darkened, too, and had turned leathery. Above his upper lip his mustache had grown out into white whiskers which were sensitive and overly receptive to his touch. The tip of his nose had flattened and flared outwards, a slight invagination running down the center towards his lips. Jackson found himself unable to fully close his lips now due to two sharp fangs that had taken the place of his canines which were too large for his human mouth and would poke at his gums when he tried to keep his mouth shut.
But perhaps most shocking of all, Jackson noticed, was the fur on his arms, legs, and chest; it was the same sandy blond as the hair on his head with black spots interspersed throughout. Thankfully, he still had his hands to feel his body, petting his fur all over until he felt back and grabbed onto something he didn’t recognise as his until he cried out in pain as he tried to pull it off. His tail was firmly attached to the small of his back and it was not going anywhere.
Jackson heard a knock on the bathroom door and although knowing it was futile, tried to stuff his tail down his pants and hide as much of his furriness as he could before his coach walked in. “So,” the coach said, disappointment palpable in his voice. “You tried to cheat.”
“What? No, I didn’t!” Jackson pleaded. “I just took some supplements! Everyone does it.”
“You’re right,” Coach said. “Everyone takes supplements. But not everyone takes transformation supplements.” Coach held up a familiar looking box to Jackson, the same one with the cheetah on it that he had purchased the day before. “We found these in your dorm. Did you bother to read the packaging?”
“Well… no,” Jackson admitted. Coach held out the box to Jackson, who took it and read the warning labels on the back:
WARNING: USE AT YOUR OWN RISK! Consuming this product will cause irreversible animal transformation. Species: Cheetah. Consume ONLY if you accept the terms and conditions of use, available online at our website. NOT FOR SALE OR USE BY PERSONS AGED 18 OR YOUNGER.
After reading, Jackson looked back at his coach, a man to whom he had looked up, and began to cry. “Oh, now stop that,” Coach said. “I don’t want you to cry.” Coach thought for a moment. “Okay, here’s what I we can do. You obviously can’t take first place; you cheated. You also can’t run for us anymore, since you’ve got… uh, quite the advantage now. Instead, how would you feel about becoming the team mascot?”