She slipped under the chain blocking the fence and entered the park, it would take more than a simple chain, or a warning of a potential biological hazard to stop her from uncovering the story. Some said journalism was dead, that the paper was dying and that nobody read the news anymore, but she wasn't about to let her passion die with the times. Somebody had to find out what was actually going on. Their had been men from the government in hazmat suits for days, but last night there had been a commotion and everyone suddenly pulled out. They left the park closed up and had signs plastered everywhere warning people to stay away, but nobody was talking about why. What was really going on here?
She pulled out her small camcorder and started to film herself and her investigation. The park seemed... normal. Trees, pigeons, sunshine, nothing was out of place save for the lack of people and the quiet. Even the pigeons seemed content not to coo, it was rather disconcerting. She stopped for a moment as her back began to itch right where she couldn't reach it, she tried and tried but just couldn't get to the stubborn spot and eventually gave up trying. She walked further into the park toward it's center, the itching sensation grew stronger, and seemed to spread out across her body. The itch was like a stripe that went down her back, and most of her legs and even her ears had begun to itch as well. She was a little concerned but other than feeling a bit itchy she felt fine so she continued to record herself. The tapes would document as her ears slowly began to grow longer, poking out from her hair as they gained inch after inch in size without her knowledge. By the time she had stopped recording her thoughts they stuck out a good five inches from her head and were starting to grow in small gray hairs.
She decided to inspect the park service station near the back wall and walked quickly toward it. She didn't make it far though, her shoes didn't seem to fit right anymore, and her feet ached inside them. She took off her shoes and stuffed them into her purse before walking barefoot down the trail. Normally the small rocks of the road would have been uncomfortable to her delicate soles, but her toes were already starting to merge together into a hard black shape that had little feeling. She itched her back again, and was confused when she felt some hair, she really needed to get a haircut if it was getting that long in the back she thought. What she really needed was to get her clothes off though, she felt so hot and itchy in all of them. She didn't notice as the back of her jacket lifted as a long tail with a tuft of hair at the end pulled it astray.
Finally she reached the station and was shocked at what she saw. The door of the station was broken, it looked like it had been battered by something small and hard, almost liked it had been kicked apart, and there were hoof prints all over the trail around the station, like it had been attacked by horses or... donkeys?
The word felt strange in her mind. Important even, but she couldn't place why. She filmed the wreckage of the station until she caught her own reflection in a small mirror on the wall. She had... her ears were... She dropped the camcorder to the floor, it's screen when black for a moment and then flashed back on, all the lens could catch was the frantic movement of a pair of hooves as the intrepid reporter panicked.
The tape ends shortly after this.I do not own the rights to the original image used for this photo-manipulation, if the owner requests its removal I shall do so