Sewers. Yup. That’s what I saw when my eyes opened. They smelled like shit, obviously. The pungent odor assaulted my nostrils, making me want to gag. But beyond the smell, something else felt off. The first thing I noticed was a lack of pain in my neck. Not something you should lack if you fractured your neck after falling from the balcony of your first-floor apartment. A lack of neck pain is suspicious. But not as suspicious as being alive after you fractured your neck because of falling from the balcony of your first-floor apartment.

I'm sure I heard my backbone crack as my face hit the floor. That hurt far more than my nose kissing the asphalt. The memory of that moment sent a phantom pain through my body. I remembered the sickening crunch, the explosion of agony that radiated from my spine, and the brief moment of panic before everything went dark. Thankfully, the pain lasted only a couple of seconds before I blacked out. But those few moments were hell nonetheless

A part of me was relieved, knowing I was alive. But the other part was retching because of the horrible stench around. And although my face and neck didn't hurt, my body felt tired. Exhausted, really. I couldn't even move a finger with how tired I felt. I felt the cold floor below me, its chill seeping into my bones. It took a couple of minutes for my olfactory senses to adjust to the smell. Once adapted, my eyes focused on the surroundings.

They were huge. I felt like Gulliver in Brobdingnag, a tiny speck in a world built for giants. The walls were tall, stretching up into the darkness above me. The sewage pipes were massive. And the wastewater channel? It looked more like a river than a drain. First I felt awe, then fear. The darkness didn't help. Everything appeared in hues of black and blue, as if I was seeing the world through a murky filter. The only movement was of the sewer water moving a couple of feet away from me, its surface rippling and gurgling in a way that seemed almost alive.

Even though no one was around, I decided to call out. Maybe someone would hear me. Maybe I wasn't alone down here in this oversized, stinking labyrinth.

“Meow?”

What the F-? I’m sure I said hello. Not -

“Meow”

Panic started to rise in my chest. What was happening? Why couldn't I speak? I moved my head down to check my body and voila!

I’m a cat!?

My body had turned into a cat. Not only a cat but a kitten. Lying down on my side, I saw my little hands, no paws, covered in fur. They had small triangular nails, sharp and delicate. Moving my paws aside, I looked down at my belly. Yes, covered in fur. My back. Yes, covered in fur. My balls. Phew. Still a male. A tail swishing around, covered in fur. I’ve read enough fantasy stories of people getting converted into some other gender. But in most of those stories, the protagonist ended up as a human. Or some other humanoid race. The chances of ending up as a feline in those stories were low. Knowing that I wasn’t human anymore was a shock. My hair, I mean fur, stood up in goosebumps.

I tried to process this information. How was this possible? Was I dreaming? I attempted to pinch myself, but my new paws weren't exactly built for pinching. Instead, I ended up swatting at my own face, which would have been comical if it wasn't so terrifying.

My body looked malnourished. The hard, uneven stone floor dug into my back. I touched my belly and felt the absence of any fat on my ribs. This explained why my stomach was growling. I was starving. The hunger gnawed at me, a constant reminder of my new, fragile state.

I moved my body from lying on my side to lying on my belly. The floor felt colder under my stomach. Too cold. I pushed myself up. My hands, which were now legs, and legs ached. At least my paws didn’t feel too cold from touching the floor. Small mercies, I suppose.

I slowly crawled towards the sewer canal. My body felt so tired that I was dragging my hind paws half of the time. The water looked as dirty as it smelled. I spun away from it and started inspecting my surroundings. The surrounding stone walkway along the sewer looked so clean as if someone scrubbed them regularly. The walls looked neat as well. I was pretty sure that even the sewers in the most advanced cities of the modern world wouldn’t be so clean. It felt unreal and created a sense of unease in me.

I always wanted to be a cat, but I didn't think it would come with a complimentary sewer tour.

How did I go from falling from my balcony to being a cat in a sewer? Was this some sort of afterlife? A bizarre purgatory where people turned into animals? Or had I simply lost my mind?

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I decided that I had to get out of this place or the sewer fumes would kill me. The thought of dying again – this time as a cat – was not appealing. Plus, I was starving, and I doubted I'd find any cat food down here.

Now the problem that arose was, Which way do I go? The canal most probably flowed outwards from whatever city I was in. I assumed it was a city because a village wouldn’t have such an elaborate sewage system. Moving in the direction opposite of the canal’s flow will take me into the city, but I’ll probably come across a crossroads and won’t know which way to go. Though if I’m lucky, I might soon come across an exit. Moving in the direction of the canal will help me reach the end, as the sewage must be flowing out to some river or lake. But, I don’t know how long that’ll take.

I decided to move in the direction the sewage canal was flowing. I prayed to whatever deity turned me into a cat to help me find an exit. Being a malnourished cat in a huge sewage system full of darkness will make anyone a believer. I slowly tread along the canal, keeping my eyes peeled for an exit. Every step felt wrong, like wearing high heels for the first time, but worse.

My new body was a constant source of fascination and frustration. I kept tripping over my own paws, my tail seemed to have a mind of its own, and my whiskers twitched at the slightest change in air current. It was like learning to walk all over again, but with four legs instead of two.

Pretty soon I felt a dull pain in my left hind paw. I sat down on my side and used my front paws to look at it. I moved my fur aside to find a couple of small wounds on the back of my leg. A sharp pain went up my body as I touched them.

“Hissss”

The sound escaped me involuntarily, a primal response to pain that I couldn't control. Looking at the wounds a little more, I understood that they were probably bite marks. It looked as if something small bit off a tiny chunk of my flesh. Now that I was conscious of it, it seemed as if the pain increased manifold suddenly. I hissed again and stood back up to continue my journey.

I started moving again, but now I tried to keep the hurt leg off the ground so that I didn’t feel much pain. I slowly gained ground on the black stone, limping with my left leg. Learning to walk as a quadruple was weird, and the hurt leg made it harder to walk. But once I got used to the movements, I could move faster. Focusing on the surroundings also helped me take my mind off the stench of the sewers and the pain in my leg.

As I limped along, I couldn't help but wonder about the bite marks. What could have bitten me? Rats? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I imagined hordes of rats, their red eyes gleaming in the darkness, waiting to pounce on a helpless kitten. I quickened my pace as much as my injured leg would allow.

I always thought cats had it easy—turns out, they just have good PR teams.

I felt pretty hopeful once I had covered a few tens of meters. The pain in my leg had dulled to a persistent ache, and I was starting to get the hang of this four-legged walking business. But all those hopes got dashed at once. I came across another canal. This one was far bigger than the one I had traversed. The smaller canal ended up as a feeder to the bigger canal. I was walking on the right side of the smaller canal. The bigger canal was flowing from right to left. So, if I wanted to follow the downstream, I had to be on the other side of either canal. So now I was stuck on the wrong side of the canals with no way to go to the other side. I wasn’t confident in my swimming capabilities as a cat. And coming in touch with the dirty water would surely infect my wound.

Shit. I didn’t think this through.

Now the only options were to go back the way I came from or follow the bigger canal upstream. After deliberating for a few minutes, I decided on the second approach. It being a bigger canal means the chances of finding an exit will be higher.

I started moving again. I had only moved a few meters when I came across a ladder. To make it, they attached circular iron bars to the wall. The iron bars were rusted now. It ended up in what looked like a manhole. This ladder was likely used by someone who scrubbed this place clean. I went to the ladder and tried to climb it, but unfortunately, the lowest step was about a couple of feet off the ground, just out of my reach as I stood up on my hind legs.

I decided to test the athleticism of my new cat body. I backed off a bit from the wall and jumped. A sharp pain assaulted my hurt paw, but I focused on the lowest step. As soon as I reached it, I curled my paws around it. My lower legs hit the wall with the momentum, again sending pain up my body. Hiss. I hung there for a few moments until the pain subsided. Once better, I pulled myself up. It was far easier than the pull-ups I was doing a few hours before as a human. I ambled up the iron bars, using my front paws to pull myself up and keeping my balance using the hind paws.

As I climbed, I couldn't help but marvel at my new body's capabilities. Despite being malnourished and injured, I was scaling this ladder with an ease that would have been impossible in my human form. My claws provided excellent grip on the rusty metal, and my tail helped me maintain balance. For a moment, I almost enjoyed being a cat. Almost.

It took me a couple minutes, battling mild pain to reach the top of the ladder. The circular black manhole cover a couple inches above me was the only thing barring my way to freedom. Once I planted my hind paws properly on the small metal steps, I used my right paw to push the manhole cover. It didn’t budge. I put whatever force my small body could generate behind it to no avail. The cover might as well have been welded shut for all the good my efforts were doing.

I slowly moved my other paw to help, meanwhile trying to keep my fragile balance on the topmost step. I tried to push with all my power, but it was all for naught. A sudden pain went up my hurt leg and my hands slipped.

The next thing I knew, I was falling—again—from a height high enough to kill me… again.