The next day... day? How would he know what was day and what was night, strapped to this
metal table in this underground tomb...

But when Aaron awoke from his restless sleep, the squirrels were all there, some perched
on the bed next to him (it tickled a bit when they tail-flicked, but he hardly noticed),
some on the cabinets or counters, and a couple just hanging upside down on the wall.

But all looking at him eagerly.

"It's time for the first dose, Aaron," Sylvie grunted. He twisted his head to the side
and saw her and three other squirrels struggling to lift a baby bottle full of something
brown and opaque up onto the bed. After several false starts, they managed to get it up,
and from there it was easy to roll it to his mouth.

"The conversion is starting," Sylvie said, and Aaron strained to look where she pointed,
and saw that indeed, a few tufts of fur... some reddish gray, some golden brown... were
starting to show here and there on his body. It was so weird... weird enough that he
managed to cringe at the color scheme before remembering that he was going to die, anyway.

"And you have to drink this, or you'll die." Aaron shuddered at the faint smell... it
was truly vile, worse than anything he'd ever smelled in his life, but somehow familiar.
He felt like he should recognize it. "We added some milk to help you keep it down,
and some SPAM extract. I'm not really sure if we need the SPAM, but it can't hurt. [flick]"

"I can't drink that! It's awful." He shuddered, dislodging one squirrel who fell to the
floor with a squeak.

"If you don't drink it, you'll die. Your choice. [flick] I'm not going to force it down
your throat. [angryflick]"

Aaron took the nipple in his mouth, and sucked... and it was truly, truly vile. The only
thing that compared was the tempera paint he'd eaten in pre-school, but it was worse than
that, and it burned his tongue and his sinuses and his throat as it went down... but
at least after a few sips he couldn't taste it anymore, and then it was just swallowing
a slushy mass as the pain grew stronger, and seemed to spread from his mouth and throat
and stomach and course through his veins...

And then it was empty, and he was finished, but the pain was still there, spreading
faster, and he panted to keep from screaming, but it was no use, and his back arched
as he bellowed in agony and struggled to break away and run, run *anywhere*! But he 
was trapped and now it felt like he was being dissolved from the inside out, and he
just kept screaming and screaming and screaming...

And when he came to his senses, after the screaming stopped, his voice was hoarse, and
the pain was still there. Not spreading anymore, and not as bad as it had been, but it
still felt like a million gaping wounds. And his eyesight was blurry, and his bones and
teeth felt... rotten. His whole body felt rotten, like an overripe cantelope.

And Sylvie was there. "You're alive," she said, "I was worried. [sadflick] I didn't think
it would be like this. God, Aaron... [chitter]

"This won't hurt a bit," she said at last, and then there was a stabbing pain in his arm,
and everything faded.

*********************

Chit shuddered with the memory of the pain, and now he knew, he *knew* that this was a
memory, a true memory. He clenched his teeth and tensed his muscles, taking comfort in
the solidity of his body.

But what had that... that... that *stuff* been? What had Sylvie given him? If he knew
that... he'd know the secret. Milk, she'd said, and SPAM, but there was something else,
something vile, that burned as it went down, like it was eating him away... but impossible
to identify, in that mixture.

But... wait... it hadn't been mixed the other time, had it?

Other time?

Oh, yes... Chit's eyes widened, as he remembered. And now, he remembered it all.