The second thing Dan noticed as he stepped into the room with his right hand still holding the door open, was how there was no dust visible anywhere. Decades worth of dust coated every other room in the house, as one would expect in a place abandoned for at least twenty five years. The bedroom he'd just walked into appeared freshly cleaned. Admittedly the green and orange floral print wallpaper looked awful, but not because it was dirty or worn. The pattern and colors were out of date by at least fifty years despite appearing freshly hung.

The entire room held that same color scheme, appearing dated even as the individual items remained in perfect condition, fresh from the original packaging. An orange and white floral print comforter lay atop the full sized bed. The plush, olive green carpet stretched from wall to wall, clashing slightly with the brighter green in the wallpaper. A dark wooden desk stood against the wall to Dan's right. The old time black typewriter perched on the top of that desk beside a tin can with various pencils sticking out the open top. Resting on a back corner of the desk, an old time, pumpkin colored rotatory phone maintained the room's color scheme. The orange, metal arm of a lamp reached over to bow it's similarly colored, half spherical lamp shade over the middle of the clear area where one might read or write.

As his gaze wandered the rest of the room, the young man continued to find more things from his grandfather's time. The rocket shaped lava lamp with a green tint to the fluid in the upper area sat on a corner table next to a small record player. Nothing in the room broke the orange, green and dark wood pattern or the olden time feel. Sure, retro items might be able to remake the appearance of the room, but despite all of it looking new and pristine, the room just felt lost in an older time.

Even the window in the wall to his left looked like time and dirt had not touched it. Around the main, clear pane of glass, a mosaic of different animals was done in stained glass. The glass forming the orange tiger, red fox and yellow lion stood out much better than the brown bear, smoky black gorilla and gray wolf. There were other animals as well, including a rat. The sunlight streaming through projected the many colored patterns across the bed and carpet, adding to the feeling of a room from an older time.

Leaving the door open, Dan let go of the handle he'd been gripping. He tried the light switch out of a force of habit. The only result, unsurprisingly, was some dusty fingerprints left on the switch. There was no power even in this oddly pristine room. Whatever had caused the lights from this house the other night, it wasn't the actual lights in this room, apparently.

Dan walked over to look out the window. It showed the overgrown front lawn and the winding, long driveway that wound between multiple ancient trees before meeting the street. If things were better cared for, this would be a nice place. He didn't know why it had remained abandoned so long.

A loud thump followed by a sharp crack sounded from below, making Dan jump. He turned to see dust raining from the ceiling of the filthy, half rotten hallway he had just come from.

“Goat fucking, bullshit damn doors!" Troy's curses rolled up with a softer thump.

“Need any help?" Dan called out, grinning at his best friend's colorful curses.

“I'm fine, pipsqueak," Troy yelled back. “Ain't no door tougher or more stubborn than me."

“That's the way, Troy, show the doorway who the real man is. But, whenever you're done flirting with it, I think I found where the music and odd lights came from."

“Great! I'll be there after I show this door who's the boss," Troy shouted back, not responding to the teasing comments.

Dan grinned and shook his head. Troy had been his best friend since grade school. As kids, both of them were often mistaken for twin brothers, their blond hair and green eyes helping with that assumption by strangers. Once they hit puberty, though, their bodies took different routes with how they grew into adulthood. While both of them were athletic, playing in every sport they could fit into their schedule, there was no mistaking which blonde one was seeing. Troy grew to eventually reach a height of six foot nine with a build more heroic looking and ripped than Chris Hemsworth did in Thor 4. Dan only ever reached four foot nine inches tall. Sure, Troy would occasionally tease Dan about the two foot difference in their heights, but it was always playful and either before or after Dan teased Troy about being too tall to fit through doors.

Both blondes could be described as strong with wide shoulders – built like a brick shithouse, he'd heard it put in the past. But differences existed beyond their size. Dan didn't have the cut look that Troy did, and not just because he grew barely visible blonde hairs everywhere while Troy's chest and back appeared hairless.

Troy's second attempt to force open whatever door he was fighting reminded Dan of the first thing he had noticed before entering the room. It was actually what made him skip a few doors to try this one. Even from the hallway, the door appeared perfectly hung and showed no aging. It had opened up without any squeak or resistance.

All the other doors Dan had tried here had been barely usable. Rusty hinges were common, needing to be forced open while squeaking and groaning like in a haunted house. Many entrances were difficult to get through because the wood had swollen over the years, making them stick. The one Troy was trying to break through down on the first floor was likely one of those.

The only reason Dan and his friend were currently in the abandoned house was because they had seen lights coming from the house while walking to their homes from the bar last night. Barely perceptible music that they were not able to identify seemed to flow from the same direction as well. Between the two of them, they had been just sober enough to know that they shouldn't look go into the run down house in the middle of the night while half drunk, even if some kids were likely holding a party there. Instead, they came here today.

While some trash was visible around the house outside, it was plastic bags and other litter likely blown by wind, not the empty bottles and cups one would expect from a party. They found no sign of anyone having entered the abandoned structure upon their first glance this morning, so they decided to take a look inside, which was not easy. Troy had torn off several boards that had been nailed over the back door. The house was obviously deserted, the utilities disconnected. Dan had figured, until entering this room, that there would be no sign of where any music or lights could have been generated.

Still curious about the room, and suspicious that something here might have been the origin of what they had seen and heard, Dan walked over to look at the record player.

About halfway across the room to the side table where the record player and several records were sitting, Dan paused as a hint of musk tickled his nose. It was similar to what he remembered the high school locker room smelling like, though not as heavy. There was no smell of filthy guys, just a hint of musk, like a mildly scented deodorant. It was a rather clean musk, which seemed like an oxymoron, but he couldn't think of any other way to describe it. In any case, not a bad scent, just unusual to find here and certainly a change from the stale, dusty scent of the rest of the house. Maybe some animal had wandered in or the original owner had some kind of pet. Currently, though, the room showed no obvious signs of any critter.

As he tilted his head to see if he could figure out where the scent originated, he saw himself in a mirror hanging above the dark wood dresser. Dust covered his hair and clothes, smeared along places on his face and arms. His black and gold football jersey – go Timer Wolves – looked a dull gray under the heavy covering of grime. Sure, it had seen worse during games after a week of rains made the field a mud pit, but he still reached up to try and dust the worst of it off. He managed to stop himself before following through with that action, not wanting to get the clean room any messier than he had just by walking in and touching the switch.

Looking back, Dan saw he had left a trail of dusty footprints from the door that stood out on the otherwise spotless carpet. While he felt a hint of guilt at leaving the messy tracks, he wasn't sure how he could have done anything to prevent it.

With a shake of his head, Dan continued across the room to the table the record player was on. As he looked over the five record covers beside it, he didn't recognize any of the names. Looking over them, the dates were all earlier than the 70s he felt the rest of the room was stuck in. Many were from the 50s. A little one was empty, probably for the small record on the player. At the top of the vinyl disk's surface, the words RCA Victor were above the logo of white dog with brown ears looking into the copper cone – the speaker maybe – extending from an even more ancient appearing record player. “You Don't Know Me" by Cindy Walker – Eddy Arnold was on the lower part of the record's surface, though the latter name was repeated in a larger bold font on the line under those first two. While the length of the song, 2:34 was listed, there was no release date on the surface of the record amid all the other information.

Dan reached out, thinking he would check to see if there was any power to the player. He paused briefly upon once again seeing how dust covered his hand appeared and remembering what he did to the switch. Should he really be touching anything in this pristine old room?

A light breeze suddenly swirled through the previously still room.

With a loud bang, the door to the room slammed shut, making Dan jump and spin to look at what had caused it, fearing there might have been someone standing behind the open door. The room was empty and completely clean of any trace of anyone ever being in it.

“You okay up there, Dan?" Troy bellowed from below, sounding deeper and more gravelly this time.

“Yeah, just a stray breeze slamming the door shut." Dan shouted his response before a sense of vertigo overcame him. He closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to to pinch between them. It felt like the room was spinning. He stumbled back against the table. There was a soft static sound like a scratch before upbeat eighties music started playing, followed by a male voice singing, “If I – I get to know your name."

Dan's eyes shot open to see where the music was coming from since it sounded like it originated somewhere ahead of him rather than the record player behind him.

It took him several moments to make sense of what he was seeing.

The room had changed. Well, similar furniture was still in place that looked mostly the same, but the color scheme had become shades of blue with a few green highlights. The bed was still where it had been, now covered with a blue comforter. The typewriter on the desk looked like a newer model. The old floral print wallpaper no longer covered the wall, which had been painted a very pale blue. The green carpet was now a wooden floor with light blue rugs placed strategically. The window had not changed and most of the wooden furniture looked the same as well. But visually, this was a completely different place.

Everything was still perfectly clean. Even the dust he had tracked in and left on the switch was now gone. But then, Dan realized, when he had looked back after the door had slammed, the room had been clean again, with the smudge and footprints gone.

It wasn't until after the music reached a chorus with several male voices singing, “You spin me right round, baby right round like a record baby," that Dan shook himself out of whatever shock had hit him. He turned around to see that the record player was now replaced by a boom box. The records were now cassette tapes. But the music obviously was not coming from that device. It was dark, powered off.

Dan frowned and turned back around, stepping forward. Was the music coming from under the bed? He moved back to the middle of the room trying to get a better idea of where the music was coming from. He looked around, pausing as his reflection come into view again.

He was completely dust free now. His jersey and shorts were completely clean. Even the old stains were gone and his clothes looked new. His skin looked like it was fresh from the shower. Just like the room, he was spotless.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the room being dust free after a breeze powerful enough to slam the door was the least unusual part of what was happening.

He needed to figure out where the music was coming from. That was why they had come in and maybe it would answer something about all the weirdness. Or at least figuring that weirdness out might make him feel less concerned about the rest of it.

Reaching the side of the bed Dan realized the music was louder. He knelt down by the bed to look under it.

He saw no phone playing the song or any other speaker. No crew of interior decorators hid under the bed. There was nothing but that musky scent he had smelled earlier. A little stronger than before, so maybe there had been a pet or some critter than had been under the bed at one point.

“Dan! You okay?" Troy's voice roared through the house, making the shorter blonde shiver a little. He could recognize the voice, but it also seemed different in some way that made his hairs stand up.

“Yeah, I'm fine Troy. Just having trouble finding where the music is coming from."

Then, the music stopped for a moment before another song began. A piano played, quickly joined by several humming voices. The music was slow and sounded real old. A male voice followed, “You give your hand to me." Dan realized this new song seemed to be coming back from the record player turned boombox.

He started to raise up, looking over towards where the music was coming from and noticed the boombox had changed again and looked suspiciously like the record player in the RCA Victor logo, a small wooden box with a large copper cone attached to the needle arm. The color scheme and tone of the room had switched again, all of it browns and light tans with wood paneling on the walls and no throw rugs on the wooden floor.

Dan got up looking around and froze.

Someone was at the desk, back to the room, head down, a pencil moving over a sheet of paper in broad arcs that suggested drawing rather than writing. Dan had no idea who the individual was. It took his brain a moment to interpret the brown floppy things on the sides of the top of his head as dog ears. Then he realized it was not some white haired old man sitting there wither naked or in some all white outfit, but someone in one of those furry mascot suits that looked just like the dog he'd seen in the logo earlier.

“What the fuck is happening?" Dan muttered to himself.

While he had meant to keep quiet enough not to be heard, the person in the canine fur suit let out a very doglike yip and jumped up, spinning around to stare at Dan. “What are you doing in my room? What are you?" the person shrieked, scrambling towards the door never turning away so he could maintain eye contact.

At first Dan had been sure it was a suit. Seeing the other individual move and talk while looking into his brown eyes, he realized that a humanoid dog was actually what was yelling at him, not a human in a costume.

The dog wore no shoes, but was in slacks and a sweater like the hand-me-downs Dan used to wear to church when dragged there as a kid.

Dan moved up off the floor to crouch, not wanting to alarm the other being while also keeping watch on him without making eye contact. He raised his hands, palms out to try and show he meant no harm, but froze as his hands came into view.

His nails were a different, pointed shape and placed closer to the ends of his fingers. His arms, always hairy, were now covered in a much thicker coat of fur several shades browner than his usual blonde hair.

“What in the mudfuck is going on?" Dan asked himself as he looked at the fur up to where his green jersey covered it on his arm.

“That was my question," the dog boy growled.

“Look, I don't know what you are or how you got here, but something really freaking strange is happening to me," Dan said, standing up and turning to look in the mirror he remembered seeing earlier. It was still there but instead of his normal reflection, a humanoid rat with blonde highlights in his dark brown fur looked back. It wore a green and gold jersey with his number on it but was for the Midtown Dragons instead of the black and gold Midtown Timber Wolves.

“I live here and have for years. You're the one who shouldn't be here," the dog barked back.

Dan felt his face, which had changed into a muzzle, he supposed. The reflected rat copied his every move. “This is really happening," he sighed before realizing he had to stand strong if he hoped to get out of this strange predicament he found himself in.

“Look," he said, turning around, preparing to explain himself.

“No, you don't know me," the singer from the record player sang out one last time as the song ended.

In the silence that followed, Dan saw the room as it changed once again. The dog boy faded as the room shimmered and seemed to shift. Dan stumbled a few steps, but watched as the wood paneling on the walls seemed to melt away, replaced by light gray paint with a pink and white wallpaper border with red hearts at about five feet up. The lamp on the desk seemed to fold in on themselves to be replaced with a new light with a lampshade that looked to be a drooping flower of pink and white made out of glass. The art supplies seemed to sink into the desk as a hutch with shelves full of bottles of massage oils and lube rose up. The picture of a muscular Rottweiler that the dog had been working on vanished as condoms popped into existence.

Dan stumbled a few steps as a plush red carpet grew out of the wooden floor under his feet.

A rapid paced song started up, seeming to come from speakers that Dan now saw in the reformed and much larger bed, covered with black sheets and covers with red hearts. It took him a moment to recognize it. As a kid, his parents had often let him watch the series of animated movies about the ogre who got the princess. This song, “Accidentally in Love," was from one of those films. When younger, he knew all the words. With it playing, he figured he'd be able to sing along and get most of the lines right even if he couldn't do it without the music guiding him.

As the song reached the line about turning faster and the world following after, Dan realized that he felt the soft, plush carpet strands under his bare feet. When had his shoes come off? It had to have happened when he was focused on all the other changes.

Thunder rumbled. Dan turned and looked out the window, where overcast skies had replaced the previously sunny day. The weather had not said anything about storms today. He took a deep breath in and out. Maybe it wasn't the room altering itself, but him changing which room he was in?

He walked over and looked out the window. It was the same view it had been earlier, just now with an overcast sky. A figure walked down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. It was hard to see through the trees. During his best view, Dan thought it appeared to be a gorilla in a dress? But that was crazy. Though he had just seen himself as a humanoid rat.

Dan turned and walked back far enough to look in the mirror again.

Dan jumped back, raising his fists before him as he saw the bear. It mimicked his jump back into a fighting pose. It was his reflection. He had changed again, his jersey a brown very similar to his fur, but with his number in silver. Go Mighty Moles? Right. What was happening to him?

Dan jumped again as a bright flash of light happened barely an instant before a thunderous crack shook the room.

Wind moaned as it picked up and swirled around the room for several seconds. It gently caressed the fur on Dan's arms and the back of his neck as the music changed again.

A rapid paced orchestral piece that sounded like it was taken straight out of the trailer for the latest action film now filled the room. The light further dimmed and Troy's heavy footsteps could now be heard pounding up the stairs in tempo with the beat of the new music.

“Troy, something odd is happening," Dan managed to get out before the room shifted and changed again. This time, Dan lost his balance completely and tumbled across the room to slam head first into the wall near the door. The music skipped a beat and turned into a slow, creepy crawl from the last horror movie he and Troy had seen.

Dan swore he could feel the floor change under his feet as he rubbed his head where it had bumped into the wall. The room was completely dark. He closed his eyes again trying calm down and push his growing headache away. He reached up to gently feel where he hit his head. His fingers brushed against his animistic ears pausing at the strangeness of the new sensation before feeling to the place where he was a little tender under his fur. It didn't feel bloody, and the headache was fading, so it strike against the wall had just been loud rather than damaging.

The musky smell was much more noticeable now, filling his nose with it's thick, masculine scent. He could almost taste it it was so strong. And it had so many layers that he could distinguish, though he didn't understand most of them. His own scent was underneath the one that seemed to be part of this odd room.

“Where you at, Dan?" something that sounded only a little like Troy growled out in the hall somewhere. Dan's ears were ringing. Maybe that was why Troy sounded so strange to him?

Something slammed into one of the the doors to a different room on the second floor.

Dan opened his eyes again, hoping his vision had cleared. Night blanketed the world outside. A moonbeam coming through the window supplied the only light as it pooled on the bed, which looked worn for the first time since he'd been here. The whole room looked like it was falling apart. There was no dust, but otherwise, it would fit in with the rest of the house Dan had seen.

Another door, nearer than the last, banged open. Something growled like an old diesel truck starting up.

Dan could feel his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. This was all too strange. He wanted to call out for Troy. But the tone of the music had his nerves on edge.

What if that wasn't his best friend out there but another stranger like the dog? This one much angrier at Dan's trespassing into his territory. Even if it was Troy, what would he think of Dan's animistic appearance? He couldn't return to his job or deal with anyone if he was looking like an animal man. If there's one thing movies proved it was that anything different gets sent to a government lab to be dissected.

Dan wanted to hide.

Instead, he got up, realizing his body had changed again. He just wasn't built like he had been as a bear. But it didn't matter. At this point, Dan just wanted out of the room. If the angry person snarling and kicking down doors was Troy, then maybe his best friend could accept him as a beast man.

If it wasn't Troy, hiding would only delay confronting whatever was coming.

Dan had to get out of this room. Then, he could figure out what happened. Maybe it was all some old hallucinogenic spores, or something else in the house affecting him. Maybe Troy was experiencing similar things. Shaking the thoughts from his head, Dan took the few steps to the door and pulled it open.

A huge, burly tiger-man filled the doorway in front of Dan. For several seconds, Dan just stared at the humanoid feline in shock. He was at least as tall as Troy. The creature looked similar to the tigers from Zootopia, but with longer legs, making his build more human-like instead of the exaggerated torso and short legs from the animated movie. His fur was shaggier under the red and black jersey with Troy's number. Dan noted the sharp claws and large teeth as the big cat's fur puffed up a bit. A musky, masculine and definitely predatory scent slammed straight into his sinuses.

Maybe it was the shock, or fear or some part of himself he would have to take a longer look at in the coming days. But Dan was a little aroused. He was also quite terrified, remembering the videos of tiger attacks in India he and Troy had seen. In any case, Dan wasn't sure what to say.

The tiger tilted his head, green eyes staring down, meeting Dan's gaze.

“Dan?" the feline asked. It sounded kind of like Troy, just with a lot more bass and gravel to it.

“Troy?"

The tiger nodded. “Yeah. What happened to you. You're a kangaroo."

“What happened to me? How did you become a tiger?"

Troy chuckled. “I've always been a–"

Everything stopped. The music, Troy, everything.

Dan wasn't sure how he remained aware. It seemed like his breath and heart had stopped as well. He seemed frozen in one moment stretched into an eternity. There was no music, no motion, just the here and now always perfectly preserved.

After taking in the immediate shock of the sensation, a calm washed over Dan. There was a sense of everything hanging in the moment with him. His actions, his choice in this moment would make things fall into place. Somehow, he now understood. There had been five songs that played fully or in part, just like the five records, or tapes or whatever they became in later changes. There was no more music and only one final change.

The music had stopped. It had directed the previous changes, but in this silence, he could pick a song that would push things a certain way. Maybe more songs could be played in the future, but Dan doubted it. It would be a risk to count on that. He could go back to being human but forcing that would be his choice, the world and Troy would be something random. He could pick his original world, but at least he, and maybe Troy, standing in the doorway, would be some random species. Or he could just leave without changing anything and trust that Troy and he could figure any troubles caused by him being a kangaroo to a world where Troy was a tiger.

Dan knew together they could handle whatever the world threw at them. They always had. He'd always chose to stand with his best friend. But maybe – if not both humans on a human world, one last change would help.

There was a snap. The room had made one last change everything vanished, then reappeared, different. The hallway looked as clean and new as the room. And Troy was a–

Then, time restarted.

“–wolf, just like you," Troy finished, a grin on his gray muzzle. “So you think we should buy this place, den together since we're around each other most of the time anyway?"

Dan took a deep breath in. Troy's scent was clean and masculine. Their scents, mixed together, had been what he'd been smelling since he got in the room. In his pocket, his phone started playing “Hungry Like the Wolf" by Duran Duran.