Second Day of Outbreak: Late Morning.

"Scanning. Please Keep your camera pointed towards the subject."

Bea grimaced as she tugged at the last scrap of skin still bound around her thigh as the Rotom continued its scan. She was uncomfortable having to keep holding up the Rotom phone. It had been several minutes already, and her arm was starting to cramp, making it challenging to keep her torso within the camera's view. Just one of many minor annoyances that had plagued her recently.

Before scanning herself, Bea had called her manager as soon as she was sure her body had fully stabilized. Or whatever passed for stable for her freakish physique. Her shrewish agent hadn't been happy when she requested that he cancel all her upcoming appointments and exhibition matches. The bean counter had truculently whined that her absence from the off-season circuit would significantly hurt product sales and her superb celebrity reputation.

However, Bea had devised a cunningly convenient excuse to finally get him off her back and shut him up. Namely, the quarantine mandate that had been hastily enacted. He had retorted that, to the contrary, she could use her status to easily bypass the lockdown and continue her career as Gym Leader. Bea had snarled angrily at the entitlement implied by that statement. She bluntly countered that as a Gym leader, she had a responsibility to Stow-on-Side no, to the region that she to be a good role model to both to her fans and the many aspiring trainers that would pass through her gym. Thus she had no other choice but to obey the emergency laws. He had grumbled something under his breath about Bea being a bitchy brat before reluctantly submitting to her wishes. Bea was still grinding her teeth in simmering frustration just thinking about him, but he wasn't the only thing rattling her nerves.

The leotard that Bea had spent several aggravatingly long minutes struggling to put on was beginning to feel rather confining around her chest and waist. She had hoped, in vain, that wearing even a part of her everyday workout outfit might have helped restore a sense of relative normalcy. However, due to her mutations, Bea had been forced to make some alterations to reduce chafing.

She had ripped a large hole in the back of the outfit for her wings, then a smaller one for her tail. Disappointingly, only after squeezing inside did she discover that the one-piece tank top was now several sizes too small for her. The spandex material was now stretched comically thin across Bea's breasts. Her already impressive cleavage was further exaggerated as they were crammed together. Already holes were tearing open in the abused outfit. A muscle under Bea's eyebrow twitched from the stress of being denied even the most minor luxury of being able to clothe herself.

'Crap, and this is my favorite one too. And now, this stupid body has ruined another part of my life. Ugh, What the hell's taking so long? Why hasn't the Dex just snapped a simple photo and spat out an entry describing the species like it always does? Grr! There it is again! That sparkle.'

Strangely, every time Bea's eyes drifted away from the front of her phone, she would catch speckles of strange colours around the forward-facing camera lens. They were otherworldly. She had never seen such impossible hues before. However, the nameless colours would vanish if she tried to focus on them.

'Oh great. Now I'm either hallucinating, or I've been "blessed" with yet another random mutation from my grafted genes. This is just F-ing perfect.'

While waiting for the scan, Bea had thumbed through the National Dex. In the index she had quickly found the entries for the Pokèmon that had been mentioned by the human in her memories. The Dex page describing the Yanma hadn't been all that helpful, other than confirming what Bea already knew from the news broadcast. That they, in fact, did not live in the Galar region at all, nor were they known for parasitizing and transforming humans on a genetic level.

As for Tentacruel, the online pokèdex had confirmed Bea's hazy memory of hearing that their territory extended around the Isle of Armour off the eastern coast. Once again, the Dex hadn't mentioned anything about a forced bodily takeover. Although, if the jellyfish pokèmon's D.N.A. was now entangled within her genes, that would partially explain the gross tentacles she had been sprouting. It made Bea queasy just thinking about it, but the revolting malleability of her internal organs also made a lot more sense now.

The last page entry Bea had checked out was on the Parasect species. It had been the true goldmine of information compared to the others. Like Yanma, Parasect was yet another Bug-type pokèmon not native to Galar. However, Bea had quickly noticed that they differed in their secondary elemental type: Grass. The reason for the duel typing was eerily familiar to the colonized Bea. Parasect and its pre-evolution were all victims of a species of parasitic mushroom known as Tochukaso. Given enough time, the fungi would completely overwhelm the pokèmon's body and nervous system. Eventually, the ravaged bug pokèmon would be little more than an empty husk puppeteered by the mushroom. This did not bode well for Bea.

'Alright, the egg heads at the lab added Parasect D.N.A to my- to the Yanma's genetic code to try to alter its typing. Was there any chance they screwed up and unintentionally transferred the fungus's genetics too? I don't see any mushrooms growing on me. Not unless-... Wait a minute, could it be the tentacles? Did it react with the Tentacruel crap and end up developing into these freaky limbs? Shit, that would explain why they act like they have minds of their own. And my guts...'

Bea's wings buzzed as a shiver ran up her spine. 'Don't want to think about that, I might get sick again'

Shoving aside the loathsome state of her internal organs, Bea tried to steer her thoughts back towards the fungus's ability to compel the behaviour of its host. Did Parasect even notice when their bodies had been hijacked? Would She? The chitin around her neck itched from her mild paranoia.

‘But- … I don’t know. I don't feel like my mind is being dominated. Yet I keep imagining myself doing fucked up shit when I lose focus. And that whent full nympho last night and in the shower. I end up simultaneously wanting completely different things at the same time, but-... I still feel like me. It's like multiple versions of me are being layered on top of each other. Maybe that's just how it feels for the host while the fungus takes over the host.'

Bea's musings were interrupted by an electronic beep. Bea's eyes focused on the screen as the string of shed she had been fussing with finally snapped.

"Scanning complete. Processing Data. Please wait…"

Bea chewed her bottom lip nervously as a progress bar started filling up on the LCD screen. Despite herself, she couldn't help but fretfully predict what the portable encyclopedia might reveal in its database. There were three possible explanations she felt she could conclude regarding her mental condition. All of them were equally dreadful.

The first and the worst, in her opinion: The original Bea was already killed and consumed by the parasitic pokèmon. The Bea sitting here and now was the mutated Yanma after hijacking the body and mind of the host. At first, Bea attempted to debunk this idea by rationalizing that if she was the insect in question, she should feel relieved to regain her original identity and memories. A parasite shouldn't be worried at all about not being human. However, reflecting on the short memories of when the bug version of her had been conscious, she could easily see why she might want to delude herself with the real Bea's memories. Better to be a successful human gym leader than a tortured lab Ratata.

The second possibility, which Bea felt was the least plausible: Was that the yanma had been the one that was killed during the merging. The remnants of its mind were now attached to her brain like a cancerous tumour, leaking its lingering will and instincts. But there was a question that would need to be resolved, why would the bug even bother parasitizing and converting her just to pointlessly die in the end? It didn't make any sense whatsoever. Then again, during its last memories, the Yanma had felt an overwhelming need to approach her sleeping body, even as it tore itself apart. That maddening tingling in its brain had been so overwhelmingly strong.

The last option, the weird one: Was that Bea's current personality had been created during that transformation when the fugus had taken controll. Her head filled with a freakish mishmash of the memories of both the real Bea and Yanma. Thusly she would be neither human nor pokèmon, merely inheriting their desires, needs and memories. She identified with humans only because Bea had experienced a longer and more eventful life than the poor lousy insect.

However, there was no way to tell which, if any, might be the accurate answer. She had wracked her brain, scouring over the lingering memories of her past lives for clues. Had they been tampered with? No, everything seemed to be there, but then again, how would she even know if she was missing any memories in the first place?

"Ghaaa" Bea growled." This is just too much. I'm overthinking things again! ARGH! Why does this have to be so fucking difficult?!"

Just then, Bea's Rotom phone gave a negative beep as an error message popped onto the screen.

Unable to register Pokèdex data. [Retry] [Cancel]

Bea's pupils dilated slightly as she read the text, her shoulders wilting dejectedly.

"Shit. Another Dead end." Bea sighed as she slouched wearily down the sofa's cushions.

If the dex app's AI couldn’t complete the profile, then the scanner had been unable to find anything it could recognize as pokèmon. So was it possible that whatever was left of the Yanma had been corrupted by Bea's own D.N.A? Just as she had been? And if that was the case, were they even separate organisms anymore? Distressingly, it was looking far less likely that Bea would ever be able to reverse what had been done to her.

'There has to be something else I can do. Damn it. Feels like my brain is gonna leak out of my ear with all this pointless genetics shit. I can barely remember what those sick bastards from the lab were even talking about, much less guess what their whole evil scheme was in the first place. That poor sodding Yanma had spent most of its life either being operated on or stuck in that stupidly cramped pokèball. Crap...I need a break from this.'

As Bea miserably reflected, her stomach made its presence known by loudly rumbling in displeasure. Her serpentine tongue was quickly swimming in saliva as hunger pains caused her intestines to quiver under her abbs.

'Arceus, I'm so famished. Feels like I haven't eaten in weeks. There should still be some protein bars left in the kitch... So-...Hungry…Need… food…I need food now!'

Midday

Bea's kitchen looked like it had been ransacked by a rampaging pack of Munchlax. The door to the fridge had been left to swing open on its hinges, the interior shelves bare of food save the messy splashes of sauce and crumbs. Likewise, cupboards had been vandalized. Food wrappings and drink containers had been slovenly discarded around the room. The odd, heavily gnawed bone surfaced among the refuse, with even the cartilage stripped away.

The source of this destruction was sitting at the table, the scarlet mutant noisily tearing into the last protein bar with her teeth. Bea could scarcely be called human anymore as she snarled in frustration, saliva dripping freely from her chin. When she had first entered the kitchen, the varied mix of aromas had wiped any self-control from her frontal lobe. Then, in a desperate frenzy, she had sloppily devoured every last scrap of nourishment she could find, eating with her bare hands or whipping tentacles.

Bea shook her head like a Herdier, and the snack bar fell out of its wrapping. Not wasting a moment, she lunged forward, her long tongue scooping up the morsel from the table. Bea's molars soon reduced the treat to a sweet mush, her green eyes glazing over with momentary satisfaction. She swallowed, only to keenly whimper in disappointment. That had been the last of her stored food, yet she was still voraciously hungry.

'Still hungry…. Still starving! Ate all of it. No, there's more food. I can smell it. Where is it?! Need more! I NEED FUCKING MORE!!'

The smell was driving Bea crazy. She moaned pitiably as ropes of drool splattered on the floor. Her feral need riffled through her memories. She had already consumed all of her own food. Just her own food? There was more nosh nearby. Bea's pinprick pupils frantically cast about, desperately searching before alighting on one last unopened cupboard. The cupboard where she always stored a week's worth of feed and treats for her pokemon.

Bea surged to her feet, grabbing the wooden door and flinging it open. Inside were the paper feed bags that held the supply of pokèchow and a pair of decorative cardboard boxes with clear plastic windows. She seized them all, her gnawing appetite overwhelming any inhibitions or hesitation over this non-standard fair.

Thumbing back into her seat at the table, Bea unceremoniously pried open one of the boxes. The sweet-smelling fragrance that escaped from inside was causing her to slobber with uncontrollable sugar cravings. The container was filled with various colourful confections of different designs and shapes. They were frosted pokè puffs that she had imported from the Kalos region as a special treat for her Pokèmon. Her long split tongue licked her chops in lustful anticipation before she seized one, cramming the confection into her mouth.

'YES! Sweet! So sweet. Like honey’d biscuits, but better. And They're MINE! ALL MINE! ALL MINE! ALL MINE!!!'

The only thing that could be heard from the room for a while was Bea's noisy mastication as her teeth ripped into the gooey centers. Her eyes locked on each treat. The rest of the world was blotted out as her rabid brain screamed for calories. However, as rich and satisfying as the macaroon-like treats were, a deep part of Bea's secondary brain kept insisting on proteins and fatty acids.

There was the crinkle of paper ripping underneath the table. Bea's semi-independent back limbs flailed savagely, attacking the bags filled with the dry pokèchow she had discarded on the floor. With some effort, they split open the wrapping, brown nuggets that reeked of offal spilling out of the wound. Victorious, the chubby pseudopod extending from the tip of each stem scooped up a clutch of kibble from the pack.

Lost in surgery delirium, Bea's dimed awareness refused to stop chewing until she was forced to gasp for air. Seizing its chance, one of her tentacles immediately shoved a pile of savour Pokèchow in front of her icing-smeared face. Bea was untroubled by the revolting stench. If Bea had still had her wits about her, she would have gaged. Instead, her pupils pulsated excitedly as she thoughtlessly chomped at the grisly nuggets.

The tidbits crumbled underneath Bea's molars. She snatched another puff, wedging it into her mouth as another tendril hastily sprinkled chow over the frosting as if adding a nauseating condiment. It wasn't fast enough. The bag of chow was dumped out onto the table the cakes reduced to sticky mess mixed in with the kibble. The beastial gym leader could care less, sugar and gritty nuggets squishing between her fingers as she grabbed fistfulls of sweet slop.

After about ten minutes of crunching, slurping, and delighted growling, Bea dreamily licked off the remaining chocolate substitute and crumbled feed from her fingers.

'So…Delicious~... Want more... boxes empty... stupid... Crumbs? Yesss~.'