One

People who claim they don't let the little things bother them have never slept in a room with a single mosquito – Anonymous

Chance knew that something was wrong when he woke to find a woman in his bedroom, standing over him as if she knew him.

He didn't know her, and she was hideous.

Her breasts were too small, almost non-existent, and her nose was gigantic. She looked like someone who spent most of their time on the street with needles in their arms, and the scars along the veins running up either arm did not do much to change the perception. She looked to be about thirty or so, with scraggly blond hair in a messy ponytail. She was wearing plain jeans and a white t-shirt, which was a size too large. She wore those ridiculous crocs on her feet, which were huge. Her muddy brown eyes gazed down at him in utter adoration.

Was someone playing a joke on him? He did not like desperate drugged-up prostitutes to begin with, but putting one in his bedroom without his permission was just presumptuous. Besides, she was an absolute slob, and far too thin. He preferred a body with a little more curve to it.

"Um... hi?" he said.

"Hello, Chance..." the woman replied. Her voice was squeaky and weak, and she sounded wasted. "I... I need your help."

He had been drinking earlier. Maybe he was having a delusional hangover dream. It would not be the first time. Maybe he had purchased a good time on the way home from the bar...? If so, he remembered nothing. Which would be the first time. Chance made a habit of remembering sex, good or otherwise.

"Did we fuck?" Chance asked. He moved from underneath the quilt and stood. He was naked, and the woman was not surprised to see him without anything on. Which made the sex idea seem a little more probable.

"... No..." the woman replied.

Okay. He had not hired the fugly woman to sleep with him. Which meant that she had broken into his house or something. But how did she know his name...?

Well, it was obvious. She had seen his work, learned where he lived, and decided to find him. After all, people like him had lots of money to steal.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, although he already decided that the little whore was there for drug money. That was what all those lazy street people wanted: money to fuel their disgusting drug habits.

"I came to see you," She murmured, her weak voice repulsive to his ears.

Chance got up with a sigh. The woman moved to touch him and he backed away quickly. He did not want the disgusting thing anywhere near him.

"I need help." The woman murmured, her words almost becoming a sob.

Chance went to his vanity, and for the barest moment, he allowed himself to take in his gorgeous reflection. Even with a little bed head his chocolate brown hair was beautiful, and it shifted gently with his every move. His icy blue eyes looked back at him, their glittering anger apparent even in the darkness. His body, perfectly toned, moved supply as he opened a drawer to retrieve his wallet.

He was a male model, and he knew that he was gorgeous. He made a living just by being pretty.

He looked for a moment over the twenty and fifty dollar bills, wondering what would make the bitch leave. Then, with a grin, he took a few coins from one of the pockets and, turning towards the woman, he threw them at her.

A quarter bounced off her chin and she put her hand to her skin, a hurt look spreading over her ugly face. She lowered her hear and her shoulders hunched miserably.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you fugly druggie bitch." Chance growled. He moved towards her and grabbed her, throwing her away from his bed. "I don't remember letting you in and I sure as hell don't want you here, so piss off and maybe I won't call the cops."

She woman looked up at him, and the look in his eyes made her flinch. He was at least a foot taller than her, and far stronger.

"I… but I need help." She whimpered. "You can help me. Just-"

"I'm not helping you. Get out of my house."

"Please, just give me a minute-"

"Get... the fuck... out... of my house." He muttered. His voice, usually so compelling to women, was full of hatred. He pushed her towards the door and she crumpled to the ground, hurting her wrist. She whimpered and cradled it to her thin chest, looking up at him. He saw her junkie teeth now and nearly gagged.

"I just-"

"Get out, or I will knock you out and throw you out." Chance glanced towards the window, where white snow was falling from a darkened sky. "Unconscious people don't do well in bellow-zero weather. If you want to live to see the next needle go in your arm, I suggest you get the fuck out."

The woman began to sob, and as she did so her voice became stronger. Finally, when she spoke, it wasn't squeaky or confused. It was powerful.

"You're a beast."

The moment the words passed through her lips, a searing pain passed through Chance's backbone. He cried out and fell backwards, crumpling to the ground. He glanced up at the woman, expecting her to go for his wallet. Instead, she watched him with dry eyes.

Was it just him, or were her breasts suddenly bigger?

She stood and moved towards him, glancing down her huge nose and into his eyes. Hers were strong now, no longer a muddy brown but a strong, beautiful colour.

"Beast," she whispered again, and he screamed as his backbone crunched. He struggled to his knees and she repeated, "Beast," and he screamed as his ribs began to lengthen, pushing his flesh to its limit.

As he grew more misshapen and deformed, the woman grew more beautiful. Her hair began to grow full and long, discarding the ponytail for an elaborate updo. Her plain clothes became something out of a fairytale, the clothing of a magnificent queen. Her nose receded until it fit her face. Her teeth became straight and her body became curvy. Her skin was perfectly unmarked. Soon, she was too perfect to look at.

Chance was horrified to see that the arms that had once held beautiful women became covered in a fine pelt of hair. His legs began to bow out and soon they met the same fate as his arms. His hands and feet half-turned to paws and then stopped. His jaw lengthened and he cut his tongue as his teeth became sharp. Soon, as he blinked, he discovered that he had two sets of eyelids: outer ones covered with fur, and inner eyelids that covered his eyes in an opaque film.

Gingerly, as his bones stopped breaking, he touched his nose. It was wet and raised out from fur.

He looked up at the woman before him and nearly looked down again. She almost shimmered from her beauty, and looking at her hurt his eyes. She glanced down at him, her bright eyes holding only pity.

"You needed only to help me," she murmured. She kneeled so that she was on his level. "You only had to spend an hour at the most and drive me to the hospital. That was all you needed to do."

"I'm... I'm sorry..." Chance murmured, but he found that his words were hardly human. He had merely growled. "I'll... I'll take you now..."

The woman seemed to understand, and she touched his paw with her perfect, soft hand. "You acted as though you were an animal. You were handsome, but inside, you are ugly. Now your outside matches."

Chance explored his body with his paws, moving away from her as he did so. Rough pads that served as his palms travelled over his changed body. He took in fur, claws, and a curved spine. He could smell – actually smell - her pity, mixed with his own fear. Two things stood out and frightened him the most.

First, he had a tail, which felt to him like the parody of a golden retriever's. The fur was long and silky he wagged it experimentally, wondering how he was suddenly able to do so.

Secondly...

He had no penis.

He knew that animals had penises, but they were usually sheathed until mating was a priority. But this... this was just unfair. If he could not see or feel it, how did he even know he had one? How could he ever "unsheathe" it?

As if I'll get any action looking like this...

Desperately, he turned back to the woman, and her pitying eyes fell on his.

"Please," he gasped, reaching for her. His speech became even more garbled, if that was possible. "Please, this isn't fair, turn me back and I'll be nice, I swear, I'll give you money, I'll take you to the hospital, I'll fuck you, just make me handsome again!"

She shook her head. "That's not up to me."

"What do you mean? You did this! You made yourself beautiful; you can do that to me!"

She shook her head again. "It's up to you. You must change the inside before you change the outside."

"What?"

"You need to learn compassion and love. If you can learn to feel love for someone, and if someone else love you back despite your appearance, then... you will change back."

"What are you talking about? Change me back, you fuck!" Chance made use of his newly grown claws and lashed out at her, tearing gashes in her cheek. The woman's eyes were still filled with pity as she touched her flesh, making the gashes disappear.

"You will have everything you need, whether you change back or not. Magic will provide everything. All you need do is ask." She sighed. "You will not get many chances. You must learn your lessons, and apply them to your life. Elsewise, you will die a monster."

"Fuck you!"

The woman closed her eyes, and in a moment, she winked out of existence.

It took Chance over an hour to work up the courage to go to the mirror. In the meantime, he ran his hands over his new body to prepare himself.

No penis.

Okay, he could deal with that.

Fur.

Claws.

A tail.

Pointed ears.

He could deal with that, too.

Pointy teeth.

Wet nose.

Two sets of eyelids.

Curved spine.

He could deal with everything.

He could find someone. He'd had countless girlfriends over the years. They had all cried when he broke up with them. They had all loved him. He had liked some of them. One of them could change him back.

... I have no penis...

He stood, stumbled, and fell to the ground. He couldn't stand with this new body. A new thought crossed through his mind: how was he supposed to make a living? What sort of model looked like this?

Terrified, Chance crawled towards his vanity. He paused for a moment, preparing himself for the inevitable, and put his arms on the table, knocking over cologne and a bottle of imported vodka. It fell to the ground and shattered, but he paid it no mind.

He pulled himself up. This new body had immense strength, and soon Chance was staring into the eyes of a disgusting creature. Blue eyes sparkled in fear, the only remnant of his beauty.

His entire body was covered coarse fur. It was the same colour as his hair had been, but it was much thickened. Most of it was already tangled from his constantly running his hands over it.

His face was like a cross between a wolf and a lion. His nose was a black wet knob surrounded by fur, and his ears were large and erect. His chest was huge, leading to muscular arms which tapered down to his paw-hands. The torso tapered slightly into a waist, and two muscular legs emerged, bending strangely at the knee and ending in strange paw-feet.

The tail hung limply, visible between his legs.

Chance began to sob. He glanced out the window, and saw that he was not in his familiar neighbourhood. In fact, there were no houses to be seen. He was completely, utterly alone.

Finally, the strength in his arms gave way and Chance fell to the ground, his sobs becoming screams of misery. After seeing himself, he knew that no one could ever love him. He had come from a world of beauty and wealth, and now he was just an animal.

He would never be human again.

AN: Okay, so, I know I've been absent for a while and I decided to finally write my modern Beauty and the Beast. So... here it is!