Wayne’s Nocturnal Griffoning

Wayne gargled and swished a mouthful of water for a few seconds before spitting into the sink. He rinsed the white basin clean, shut off the tap, and lifted his gaze to his reflection in the mirror. He casually pushed at his short but unruly brown hair before smiling at himself and winking his brown eyes playfully.
“G’night, handsome.”
He shut off the bathroom light and stepped into the hall, tugging at the collar of his loose t-shirt and casually adjusting the elastic waistband of his shorts as he headed down the hall to his room.
“Wayne,” his mom shouted from the kitchen, “are you headed to bed?”
The young man stopped at the door to his room, “Yeah, mom.”
“Good night, son, remember you’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
Wayne chuckled and sighed, “Don’t worry, I already set my alarm.”
He entered his room and closed the door. His room was decorated with an eclectic collection of possessions from his teenage years; old video game posters hung on the walls above shelves of action figures and generations of gaming consoles. Shelves of books too young for him but too sentimental to get rid of sat on shelves along with a smattering of the first volume in several YA series and classic novels, some illustrated, some not.
The stand out, however, was the large collection of plushies that occupied every empty space and filled every nook. His collection when an aunt gave him a small squirrel with an oversized fluffy tail for his sixth birthday. His innocent joy regarding the fluffy toy encouraged his family to continue buying them for him over the years, adding to his collection until it filled most of his room. Though the gifts slowed down as he reached his late teens, that was about the time he was old enough to get part time work and buy them for himself. He adored his entire collection, from Nutty Squirrel and Mad Munchkin Roo to Fendror the Hydra and Bernard the six footed dragon.
But his favorite had a special place in his room. The cat-sized stuffed animal rested on his pillow, looking out across his room with all the other plushies facing his general direction, as if he were holding court in a throne room of down feathers and woven cotton instead of hewn stone and polished masonry.
Electuroo, the proud yellow griffon. His majestic wings were folded gracefully against his back and his avian head looked on proudly, feathers of black, yellow, and orange styled in the rough shape of a human hairstyle. Though Electuroo’s head was mostly that of a bird, it was adorned with two pointed ears like those of a feline or fox. His leonine body was supported by four firm legs with his tail held out behind him, curled slightly towards the tip and ending in a tuft of yellow fur.
Wayne pounced into bed, sliding along the sheets and snatching the plush in his arms. He gave the worn toy a loving squeeze before turning to make sure his phone’s alarm was set. He placed it on the nightstand and snapped off the light. As he’d done nearly every night for the past decade, he pulled the plush close to his chest, pulled the covers over them both, closed his eyes, and peacefully drifted off to sleep.
His peaceful rest quickly warped into a vivid sea of color and lights. Calm darkness was washed away by successive waves of bright yellows, deep grays, saturated oranges, and inky blacks. They road on a strong wind that swirled about him, pulling him in every direction. He tried to find his footing, but there was only emptiness beneath his feet. He tumbled through the chaos, spinning about the colorful void as he was pushed about by a wind he was unable to identify as an updraft lifting him up or a downdraft pushing him deeper into the endless space. He couldn’t get his bearings enough to know which way was up, and the swirl of colors surrounding him left him with nothing to orient to and gain a sense of direction.
As his fear and confusion ramped ever higher, Wayne realized the colors closing in on him, pulsing brighter and larger as they somehow filled more of his vision. He tried to cry out, but his breath caught in his throat as nothing more than a weak rasp. In desperation, he curled into a defensive ball and covered his eyes with his arms in a final effort to keep the light from consuming him completely.
Wayne let out a pained grunt as he flopped to the floor next to his bed, his blankets chaotically twisted around his body. He squirmed weakly, still half asleep, in an effort to remove himself from the bedding bindings. His shirt and shorts were twisted up as well, pulled tight around his midsection and partially choking him.
After a few seconds of increasingly determined struggling, a warm shiver ran up his spine, a wave of exhaustion spreading out over his body and forcefully relaxing his muscles. He slumped against the soft cloth hanging from his bed and considered simply sleeping like this. It didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable now that he was used to it, and he could just tough it out till morning.
Wayne rolled his shoulders and wiggled his hips, sinking against the suspended sheets to get as comfortable as he could. He found a comfortable position and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh that dwindled into a soft purr. He was just starting to drift back to sleep when the sound of tearing fabric reached his ears. He tensed, the sound of more fabric ripping sounding out as he did. At the same time, a sting of pain like he’d hit a nerve radiated up his spine, further encouraging him to get up and examine his situation more thoroughly, or at least find a more comfortable sleeping position.
His renewed struggles brought more rips and tears, his fingernails somehow getting caught in threads of his sheets, tearing the woven cotton apart as he worked towards freedom. He’d barely gotten to his feet when another wave of warmth rippled through his body, cascading from his spine through his limbs. Soft numbness dropped him against the mattress, his arms clumsily catching himself as the wave burbled up his neck as a wave of pleasant exhaustion. 
His head dropped against the soft bedding as the wave fizzled through his head. He struggled to move his body and pull himself into the bed, his concerns faded under the warm promise of a good night’s rest. The haze lifted, albeit a little slowly, when he spotted his hands in the moonlight.
More specifically, he noticed his fingers were shining under the moonlight.
His senses woke up and he pulled his hands closer, slipping back from the side of the bed to his knees as he examined his black nails and the reflective yellow scales that covered his fingers. Fingers that were slowly swelling in size and growing pointed.
Something twitched against the seat of his shorts, snatching his attention from his hands to his backside. Looking over his shoulder to see if he’d sat on something, two sights fired twin shocks of fear through his mind.
The first was that the twitching wasn’t something he’d sat on, it was a strange lump pushing out against the seat of his pants from the inside. It twitched and shivered with each passing second, slowly extending against the stretchy material it was encased in with each increasingly active motion. The second thing the scared him was his feet, which were covered in short yellow fur that was steadily advancing up his ankles. His toes looked bloated as they painlessly swelled against each other.
“Wh, what the hell?”
He put a hand on the mattress to steady himself as he pushed up from the bed, tensing slightly as each of his blackened nails picked at the mattress, leaving small tears in the material. He rose to his feet tentatively, looking over his body to take in the ongoing changes. His breath caught in his throat as the strange growth at his backside swished as he turned, the unnatural sensation of it naturally helping him find his footing added further confusion to his mounting fear.
Wayne gasped as warmth filled him once again, the now familiar wave of numbness causing him to stagger and weakly catch himself against the bed. The waistband of his shorts stretched as the growth pushed out, twitching in anticipation as its length nearly doubled. The fur on his shins rushed past his knees as the yellowish scales moved up his forearms, blooming into a tuft of yellow fur around his elbows.
His ears twitched and pulled into points as the warmth pooled between them. Wayne’s eyes drooping slightly as the desire for sleep pushed back against his fear and confusion. Was it really that important to stay awake when he could just sleep it off? He had work in a few hours and needed his sleep. He should just curl up and take a nice, long, nap until morning.
He was halfway into his bed before his senses resurfaced, his eyes focusing on Electuroo.
Or what had become of Electuroo.
His prized plushie and best friend from childhood was deformed, with details missing and lumps in odd places. At first, Wayne thought his sharpened nails had damaged Electuroo during his fitful sleep, his heart racing at the thought of hurting him, but calmed down a when he noticed there was no splits in his seams or spilled stuffing on the bed. The changes happening to his plushie didn’t seem to be causing any outward damage.
He pulled himself along the side of the bed to get a better look at the alterations to his stuffed griffon. His tail was about half the length it should be, ending in a nub of yellow fabric instead of the soft brush of a tail tuft that belonged there, and his legs, which were usually held stiffly in a balanced four legged stance, had sagged, with his forelegs halfway flopped to his sides and his hind legs bent towards the mattress on either side of his shortened tail. Additionally, the normally yellow limbs had taken on a pinkish color that faded to the expected yellow around the shoulders and hips.
The young man jumped back as the plushie shivered and bounced. He felt another wave of the sleepy haze ripple through him like a cozy drink of hot cocoa as he watched the animated plushie dance about. He struggled to keep his eyes open as Electuroo’s wings crumpled, first folding down and then pulling into themselves. The stuffed tail also continued to withdraw, pulling further into the torso of the plushie.
Warmth pooled between Wayne’s shoulders then cascaded down his back in short pulses and washing over his upper back in a large burst. He slumped against the bed as the strange growth at his his backside gained even more mass, straining the loose material of this shorts to the point the elastic was stretched tight around his hips.
Before he could look back, however, the haze reached his head and his eyelids fell like sandbags and his head flopped to the mattress. He struggled to get his arms under him and push himself back up, but the warmth sapped the energy from every part of his body, making the ordeal an uphill battle.
Just go back to sleep.
His ears twitched and tugged at the sound of the thought. It was his, but felt distant, separate somehow. Despite the surreal nature, it was solid advice. The warm embrace of sleep became more inviting with each wave of warmth that rippled through him. However, the changes each wave brought with them kept him from wholly surrendering to slumber.
He managed to pry his eyes open again, his gaze on Electuroo as the malformed plushie once again started to shiver and bounce. The griffon’s wings and tail diminished further, becoming nothing more than non-descript mounds of cloth and stuffing, three nubs of cloth on its back that would be easy to miss if you didn’t know they were there. The hind legs flopped fully to the bed, the yellow color fading from them completely.
Wayne tensed as he felt the warmth once again was over his body. He did his best to push back against the incoming tide of exhaustion, taking several deep breaths as new changes assaulted his body.
His hips and knees popped softly and shifted, his legs pulling under him as joints realigned. His pointed ears twitched at the sound of ripping fabric and the tightness of his waistband eased somewhat as the material finally gave way to his changes. Looking over his shoulder, Wayne’s eyes grew wide in realization.
His shorts had been pulled out far enough to expose his backside and the strange growth. He looked from his yellow-furred posterior to the strange object, a long tube covered in soft yellow fur. It twitched and tugged, trying to escape the strained confines of his shorts. With a pop that made his entire body jump, it managed to flop out above the waistband of his shorts, the loose material still having enough elasticity to snap back against his backside weakly, causing his legs to instinctively kick out.
It was a tail.
Wayne could feel it, each movement sending shivers up his spine, as did the sensation of air conditioning against its soft fur. He recognized that tail, save for one thing.
A wave of warmth rippled up the tail in response, reaching the tip and blossoming into a thick tuft of yellow fur.
It was Electuroo’s tail. He had Electuroo’s tail.
He turned back to the plush, cringing as twin points of pain in his upper back twisted uncomfortably against his shirt.
Those would be his wings, then.
His chest fell against the bed once more as sprinkles of warmth tickled his brain and enticed him to slumber once more.
Just sleep until you’re ready.
His ears stood upright, stretching slightly as fur sprouted from them, and he held his eyes half open, gritting his teeth as he made every effort to fight the mounting exhaustion. He felt his hips shift further, growing out and pushing against his shorts, the weakened material falling limply down his legs. Something tripped in the young man’s mind as his shorts got caught up around his knees, an instinctive need fired down his spine and into his legs, causing them to kick sharply.
“H, hey, s, stop that,” he mumbled, unable to stop his hind legs from kicking, clawing, and shaking in an effort to rid themselves of his ruined apparel. He grabbed the bed with his forelegs, claws digging into the mattress as he steadied himself. When his legs finally managed to kick the torn garments from his body, his hindquarters calmed down enough for him to catch his breath and regain some focus.
He turned his gaze to the plushie once more, watching as the last of the tail vanished into pink skin and a familiar looking pair of black shorts materialized around Electuroo’s realigned waist. Wayne clumsily scrambled onto the bed, pulling his hind legs under him as he drew closer to the plushie for a better look at the ongoing changes. Before he could investigate further, though, his budding wings swelled, punching sharply against his nightshirt, pulling the material tightly across his chest and yanking him back from Electuroo.
“W, wait, stop,” he pleaded tearfully with whatever unknown force was transforming them into each other.
Wayne watched as Electuroo’s wings vanished completely into his body, leaving a very human looking form with a bright yellow griffon head. The young man shivered weakly as the familiar warmth built inside him once more.
His shirt strained around his front as his wings gained definition and proper bone structure. The once comfortable fabric chaffed the fur and feathers that covered his chest, eliciting a strangled squawk of aggravation that radiated a tense numbness through his lips. New muscles stretched and joints popped as the wings grew too large for their cloth confines.
They needed to be free.
He barely noticed as clawed fingers worked at his shirt, plucking at the collar and splitting the fabric bit by bit, releasing the pressure and allowing his wings to unfold a little more with each successive attempt. About halfway down his chest, the material started tearing on its own from the intense pressure. His wings seized the moment, tucking down for a moment and then springing out, launching a full strength offensive against the material. The wings tore free and spread to full length, launching his shirt across the room. Turning his gaze expectantly to the plush, he watched as it gained a shirt just like the one he’d discarded.
His wings flapped with his heartbeat as his breathing slowed, an involuntary purr escaping his numb lips at the surprisingly pleasant sensation of his wings being free.
You’re almost ready.
Wayne nodded absently through bleary thoughts at the reassuring voice, his tail twitching back and forth softly as his wings settled against his torso. He slumped to a seated position, watching the plushie with tired eyes as it once again wiggled and danced, signaling what he assumed was the final wave of changes.
Electuroo’s proud beak melted back into his face as the yellow fur and black and orange feathers atop his head bubbled up for a few seconds before snapping out into a neatly parted scruff of brown hair. Wayne’s thoughts tickled as he looked at the humanoid plush. It looked so familiar to him, but the fog of exhaustion curling through his mind made it hard to connect his thoughts. His shoulders trembled and he lowered himself to the bed as the numbness in his lips spread up through his nose and built into an outward pressure.
His breath caught in his throat as his face pushed forward and his skin grew hard. His nose and jaw spread out as they moved away from his face, forming the strong beak of a griffon. As it reached full length, there was a soft pop and his new beak snapped together in a soft clack that caused the rest of his mouth to snap forward into place and sent a shock of fur and feathers back over his cheeks and up his forehead.
Such a handsome griffon.
As Wayne’s hair vanished beneath the wave of yellow fur and black feathers. He could see out of the top of his vision as the dark feathers came into view, each one stretching out, then shaking softly as the tip shifted to orange. As each feather gained its proper color, his thoughts felt heavier, blanketed in an ever thickening warmth. His arms gave out completely and his chest thumped to the mattress. He pulled himself closer to the plushie, nuzzling it with his beak as his tail curled in around his flank.
Time for a nice long nap.
He purred softly at the promise of a good night’s sleep. His eyes closed as black fur swirled around them, covering the last of his exposed skin in a sea of shiny fur and feathers. His clawed hands gingerly gripping his plushie close to him. His hips wiggled softly as he got into a more comfortable position, his leonine body expanding and contracting slowly as sleep finally took the young griffon into its relaxing embrace.

“Electuroo. Electuroo, did you sleep in again?”
The young griffon tensed and his eyes flared open, wings pulling away from him as though he were ready to take flight. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned to the clock on his nightstand. His tail twitched in fear as realization came crashing down around him.
He was late for work.
He pounced from the bed and landed gracefully at his dresser, pushing up on his hind legs as he pulled open his drawer and paused, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Why was his drawer full of human clothing?
His door burst open and his mom walked in, lips pulled tightly in annoyance and her hands on her hips.
“You overslept again, didn’t you?”
Before he could respond, she spotted the clothes in his drawer, “What’s all this stuff? And, oh dear, Electuroo.”
He followed her gaze to a shredded shirt and pair of destroyed shorts. How had those gotten there? He turned back to his mom, beak quivering.
“Electuroo,” she sighed, crossing her arms, “are you nesting again?”
The young griffon blushed, his embarrassment only escalating when he heard his younger sister giggle from the hallway.
“Mom, I, I wasn’t. I don’t know,” she cut him off.
“You don’t know how a bunch of shredded clothes got strewn about your room?”
He shook his head.
“You’re old enough to be honest about this stuff. I get it, and I’m fine with it, but you need to clean up after yourself and make sure you get up on time for work.” Her eyes looked over his smartphone at the foot of his nightstand, the tears in his mattress, and then to the plushie at the head of the bed. “I’m honestly surprised you’ve managed to avoid destroying Wayne in all your-“
“Mom,” he squawked, pulling her focus back to him.
The two held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, the only sound the poorly stifled giggles of his little sister.
Eventually, she sighed, “Alright, just get ready for work and we’ll talk later.”
He nodded silently and she turned and left his room.
Digging through the surprisingly large collection of human clothes, he eventually found his large work cloak, color coded in the store’s colors and proudly displaying his name on it. He quickly tied it about his neck, feeling more confident already. He padded back to the bed and looked down at the soft plushie he’d had since he was a cub. He softly stroked down its chest and smiled.
“I’d never hurt you, Wayne, you’ve always been there for me.”
He picked up his phone and deposited it into a small pouch on his work clock before taking one last look over the mysterious destruction, “Maybe I’m a sleepwalker or something?”
With one more glance at the clock, he cast the concern from his mind to focus on the day ahead of him. Rushing into the hall, he passed his sister, still giggling, and rushed to the front door. He stopped just long enough to kiss his mom goodbye and snatch the bagged lunch she made him in his beak.
Out the door, he launched himself off the front landing and took to the sky, wings beating with practiced control as he made his way into the morning air and off to work, well rested and ready to face the day.