The night air was thick with tension as Arthur stood by the ancient well, the moon casting an eerie glow on his face. He could feel the strange pull of something deep within the earth, something that whispered in a language he couldn’t understand but instinctively knew. His body trembled as his fingertips brushed the cool stone, and in that instant, the transformation began.
It started with a slight itch in his skin, a creeping sensation that moved up from his fingertips, swirling around his bones like a wave. His hands contorted, fingers thinning and lengthening, nails hardening into sharp claws. The feeling was excruciating, as though his very soul was being reshaped, bending against his will. His legs buckled as his torso shifted, twisting unnaturally, muscles rearranging in a grotesque dance. A hiss escaped his lips as his mouth elongated, teeth sharp and venomous. His body, once human, was now slithering, scales replacing flesh, shimmering in the pale light.
Arthur’s human thoughts began to blur as the serpent instincts surged within him. His vision sharpened, his senses heightened. The once-familiar world seemed so vast and cold. He no longer felt the weight of his human form, only the urge to move, to slither, to be one with the shadows. His human voice was lost in the hiss of the snake that now coiled in the darkness.
He was no longer Arthur. He was something ancient. Something primal. A serpent, born anew, bound to the earth and the night.
