Commission for  tuxedoedpenguin

A member of the CIA's SAC/SOG is tasked with infiltrating a terrorist compound, but finds that his stay may be a little more permanent than he expected...

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Agent Mike Jones checks his watch as the black SUV continues down the road. He reviews his orders with his team lead one last time, he’s being deployed to a small compound owned by someone suspected to be part of an international terrorist organization, New Dawn. New Dawn has been suspected of kidnapping people, though most of the people they kidnap are never found.

“Get in, grab any laptops or other documents you can, and get out. That’s all.” The team lead sternly instructs Mike as they approach the insertion point at a high speed.

“Got it. Rules of engagement?”

“Tight. We don’t want this to be on the news.”

“Understood. I’ll be quiet. Looks like this is my stop.” The van pulls up into a small, dark parking lot along the side of the highway. Mike gets out of the van and checks his gear as the van drives away, and he starts making his way further down the road towards the compound.
The compound itself is relatively small, consisting of a few single-story buildings, some streetlamps, and guard patrols. As Mike approaches the compound, he slips further off the road and starts scouting out the complex. He mentally makes note of the two guards patrolling the front entrance, the one on the roof of the main building, and the one patrolling around the remainder of the complex. He starts making his approach, being careful to stay out of the open when possible, as there’s a full moon out tonight and the moon is reflecting enough light for him to be seen in the open.

Mike approaches the compound and stays hidden in a bush, seeing a guard coming. Once the guard passes, he gets out his wire cutters and starts cutting a hole in the fence, then climbs through. Once on the other side, he looks around, then feels a sharp pain in his neck. He looks around and sees the guard on the room aiming a weapon at him, then lowers it. The guard seems to be speaking into a radio, and Mike starts swaying side to side as he starts to lose consciousness.
His eyes flutter open and he finds himself in a locked room that looks like an exam room at a doctor’s office. Soon, a man wearing a lab coat walks in and starts silently washing his hands and preparing something, though Mike can’t see what it is.
“Wh-Where am I? Who are you?”

The man does not answer. Soon, he has a syringe ready, and calmly starts approaching Mike. Mike gets up off the exam table and runs back into a corner out of panic and raises his arms in defense. The man does not say anything, but quickly grabs Mike’s arm and stabs it with the syringe. Mike starts trying to pull his arm away and strike the man, but he was too slow, and the strange substance has already been injected into his bloodstream and is being pumped throughout his body.
The man pushes Mike against the wall and quickly leaves before Mike can scramble to his feet. By the time Mike makes it to the door, it’s already closed and locked. Mike starts pounding on the door, out of sheer desperation, then he notices the hair on his arms getting thicker. It turns a brown color and sweeps up and down his arms. His hands start to cramp as his fingers shrink, thumb shriveling away and moving up his hand. His fingernails turn dark and black, then sink into their nailbeds as his thumb finishes becoming a dewclaw. The pounding on the door gets lighter as Mike notices the changes happening, and it then stops as he looks at his hands. The palms and fingertips begin swelling, then turning black as rough, leathery pawpads grow in.
“What the fuck? What is this?” Mike looks at his hands, panicked. “Why are my hands…paws?”

As he pokes at his new pawpads out of curiosity, the fur reaches his shoulders, and his shoulders begin to melt and flatten as they reform. Chocolatey-black fur soon covers his shoulders and starts sweeping across his back, as the brown fur continues down his chest and abdomen, which are thinning out along with his arms. His arms shift forward, leaving him with a couple of forelegs dangling in front of him, and his chest weakens as it gets smaller.
Mike runs up to the window and tries to break it, but finds protective bars on the window and thick, reinforced glass. He manages to scratch the window with his claws, but that’s about it. “Please! Please stop this! Let me out!” Mike’s head is soon covered in black and brown fur, and his jaw begins to stretch forward. He reaches up to feel the lengthening muzzle. His nose turns black and rounds out, then becomes wet. “Mmff!” Mike tries to speak but finds it difficult with the muzzle growing in, teeth sharpening and tongue growing longer all at the same time. His hearing sharpens as his ears grow longer and move to the top of his head, soon flopping over from their length.

“Plea-aaawroooo…” Mike’s desperate pleas are cut off by a sharp pain in his throat as he loses his ability to speak, only being able to produce whines, barks, and growls now. As he continues whining pitifully, he lurches forward and falls to the floor, the fur spreading down his back and sides. It soon reaches his thighs as his joins crunch and compress, becoming haunches. His feet grow longer, and heels slide out of his shoes which are much too large now for his shrinking feet. His toes cramp and grow smaller and toenails grow sharper as they become claws. Soon, there’s a german shephard wearing a suit of tactical gear where Mike was standing not too long ago. Mike paces around, unsure of what to do. His ears perk up as the door opens.
Two guards come in, one of them holding a leash and collar. They quickly go to tackle Mike, and Mike lunges at one of the guards, and feels a sharp pain as he is struck with a taser. He falls to the ground and starts convulsing, and he is soon leashed and collared. Mike gets up, whining, and is led out of the room to begin his new life as a guard dog.