Attack of the Were-Inflatables!
It doesn't matter what it is, if you're approached by any strange figures in the woods, that might be the time to start running... or else you might suffer the curse of the were-inflatable!
Just a little Halloween story to get into the mood! The idea actually came from https://www.furaffinity.net/user/trubbol a few days ago, and I loved the idea so much I had to make a story about it... might actually come back to the idea in the future, I enjoyed it that much!
You’d think that if something over twice your size and shrouded in darkness was lumbering at you from the mist that you’d be afraid, right? Immobile with fear, trembling in your boots as an unnamed horror stomped ever closer. Or, if fear ain’t your thing, maybe standing there in utter shock and awe, taken aback by something that could easily rip your throat out and leave you for dead.
It was the season of terrors, after all.
But the unnamed thing in front of you, somehow, gave neither of those emotions.
You still hadn’t tamped down what exactly it was. All you could see was a very round, very dark figure somewhat hidden behind a tree, slowly stepping towards you. Immediately you could tell something was wrong; this thing walked in a waddle, and the sqrks and squeaks accompanying it definitely signalled something outside of the norm.
Looking back on it, you should’ve ran or grabbed one of the nearby sticks to fight back with, but in your confusion and in the moment you didn’t even think of that. Instead, you simply stared as the thing waddled ever closer in a cacophony of plastic creaks and squeaks.
It wasn’t until the moonlight hit it just right that you finally got a good look at it.
It was a pooltoy.
A pooltoy almost twice your size, nothing more than a parody of a hyena standing on two legs, a fake smile plastered under unseeing eyes, locked directly onto you. The moonlight shone directly through it, illuminating the painted spots and printed paws from both within and without. Plastic, through and through, not a jagged edge in sight inbetween the inflated thighs, the plump stomach filled to the brim with air and a head that gave the term “airhead” new definition.
No jagged edges… except for two.
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d ever seen a pooltoy with fangs, but sure enough this one had some. Hard plastic points made from the same material as the handles on its back and legs, and the closed valve stuck into its belly. As it sauntered ever closer, the sound reminding you of a raincoat rubbing against itself, the moonlight threw those fangs into sharp definition, quite possibly the only sharp thing about this monster.
By the time you gathered your wits to take a step back (out of confusion, not fear), the thing was already close enough to grab you. And grab you it did; simply picked you up in a giant hug, pressing you into its squishy vinyl chest. Some part of your mind, whatever rational portion hadn’t been frozen by the utter absurdity of being approached by an inflatable, had reasoned that maybe this thing was simply a person in a costume, a bad actor simply after another Halloween prank. Even though you’d seen directly through the thing as the light still continued to shine through it, you were grasping at straws trying to justify its very existence. But as you sank into the thing’s hollow chest, it became undeniably clear that this thing was pure pooltoy through and through, nothing more than vinyl and air.
Then the thing laughed.
A light, airy sound, like a hyena’s cackle jacked up on helium. The thing’s eyes stayed glued to one spot, yet you knew that it was staring you down, sizing you up. It bent towards you, smothering you in vinyl, and you started to struggle under its iron grip. No avail.
You were at its mercy now, whether you liked it or not.
A million thoughts flashed before your eyes. Memories, every family member you’d ever loved, every friend you’d ever had, every enemy you’d ever made. What did this thing want with you? Why was it here? How was it here? As it bent down, inflated plastic head getting alarmingly close, you squirmed- but the thing held you in a death grip, and all you succeeded in doing was rubbing against the thing with unhelpful creaks and sqrks.
Was this it? Was this the end?
Two pinpricks of pain on your neck. The hyena giggled again, that sound unnervingly familiar yet so foreign at the same time. It released you; you tumbled to the ground, clutching the new holes in your neck as the inflatable turned away from you, seemingly losing all interest. You scuttled away from the thing as it lumbered away in its odd, bouncy locomotion, the creaks of vinyl growing fainter and fainter as it disappeared back into the treeline, back into the forest.
It was gone, just as suddenly as it had appeared.
Panting, you took your hand off your neck, barely registering the blood dripping from the wound. You glanced back at where the thing had disappeared to, then scrambled to your feet, running in the opposite direction, back towards wherever you’d come from.
Back to safety.
You groaned, turning over and rubbing your eyes. Checking the clock at your bedside, you barely made out ‘2:47 AM’ over your blurry vision. Rubbing your eyes again seemed to put it into sharper focus, if only barely.
That damn dream again. If- one could call a memory a dream, that is. The events of that night a couple days ago had been playing nonstop every time you fell asleep, only getting stronger and more intense as the moon had waxed. Now, on the night of the full moon, the memory had been so intense it’d actually woken you up.
Yawning, you tried to sit up, only to realize you felt… off. Bloated, somehow. Confused, you moved your covers aside, only to be met by an oddly terrifying sight.
There was a plastic valve sticking out of your stomach.
The valve looked the exact same as the one on that inflatable hyena, the one that’d bitten you only a few days ago, and it sat in the exact same spot on your swollen stomach. You tried to pull at it, but your fingers just wouldn’t grip, and slid off your skin with a squeak.
The same kind of squeak an inflatable would make.
You whimpered as your entire body inflated, filling with air and causing your plastic vinyl skin to bulge outwards as if you were being steadily pumped with air. Your organs simply felt like they’d evaporated, disappearing to make room for more and more air in your already swollen form. Your clothes strained, fabric making its own kind of creaks right alongside your limbs, and you could only watch as your bloated stomach caused your sheets to rise, showing off just how big you’d already become.
Your body began to swell past what your clothes could contain. A stubby inflatable tail pushed at the seat of your strained pants, a pair of squishy wings pushing your nightshirt to its absolute limits. You tried to yell for help, but your face was already pushing outwards, vinyl sealing your mouth and eyes permanently open into painted-on features save for those familiar pointed fangs. You were forced to watch as air was seemingly pumped into your arms and legs, inflating several times their previous size as your hands and feet swelled into clumsy, useless things, fingers and toes merging and bloating into hard vinyl claws, three on each stump of an arm or leg. Your clothes, already pushed beyond what they could hold, gave up, tearing off you and littering the bed around your swelling plastic body.
By now, your chest had joined your stomach into one continuous curve, already taking up nearly half the room. You could feel the wall next to your bed, feel it as your limbs continued to inflate several times over in the span of minutes, nothing more than plastic nubs you could move at will.
It felt… right.
You couldn’t help but let out an airy hiss as your sheets finally slid off your glossy stomach, showing that it had also changed color into a creamy white, with a distinct scute pattern printed on the front. One look confirmed your arms had too; this time, into printed black scales. You hissed again, growing more and more pleased with the transformation as it slowed, finally reaching its end.
Horns. Wings. Tail. You tried to grab one of your wings, but your glossy white claws simply skidded off the stretched vinyl with a sqrk. You hissed in delight, trying it again to the same result. You didn’t know why, but hearing your body move and squeak brought you immeasurable joy. Rolling off the bed elicited more squeaks, getting up was an absolute pleasure. You barely cared you took up nearly the entire room; squishing out the door and into the kitchen only served to fill your entire house with creaks and squeaks, which gave you even more bliss.
An airy cackle reverberated outside your door, and you paused. It sounded again. Still euphoric from the transformation, you hissed, and the cackle sounded again, as if calling to you. You hissed again, noticing the sliding glass door propped slightly open. It took some forcing, but you managed to squeeze your way outside, taking up more than the doorway in the process. But once you popped outside, you were met by a very familiar face.
The hyena.
It giggled again, tilting its head in an almost curious way. You hissed in response, elated at the prospect of finding a familiar friend. The hyena cackled again, then turned towards the forest.
Together, the two of you waddled off into the woods, off on a prospect of finding even more friends… of sharing the bliss of vinyl and air.
For who could possibly be afraid of a couple of giant inflatable pooltoys?