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Brian just couldn’t take it anymore. The abuse, the insults, the scorn that the world had thrown upon him for no apparent reason and had been doing so ever since he was a small child. Now, he doubled over in the darkness of his room, mumbling a desperate prayer to Satan and pleading for people to never laugh at him again. Soon, his eyes squeezed shut, and he fainted. When he woke up, a few hours had passed. His once normal tanned skin was as white as snow, dark tendrils of hair cascaded down his back and replaced the caramel brown hair that came to just above his ears, his lips were permanently stained a dark purple color, and, most notably, the bottom half of his body has now made up of tentacles the exact shade of vomit, and slime trailed behind him. His fiancée, Claire was waiting for him to come back out from his room after his nap, putting her ginger hair up into two cute pigtails and smiling at the thought of seeing Brian again, although it had only been about three and a half hours since he had gone up for his nap.

He slithered out of his room and, with some difficulty, down the stairs, following the sound of the Ministry song Claire was playing in her room. She looked up, her vibrant green eyes filling with fear when she saw the Lovecraftian creature that was once her fiancée. He leaned over her intimidatingly, trying out his new vocal cords. A deep, raspy, pained voice forced its way out of his throat like rusty razorblades being vomited up. “P-princess?”, he hissed. She sobbed when she heard his former pet name for her, Princess. This got rid of any doubt in her mind that this monster was Brian, or what was left of him, anyway. “G-get away from me, you hideous monster!”, she shrieked. Intimidated, he slithered down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen, out the door, down the street, and into a seedy-looking back alley, and Claire was left alone with only thoughts of what possibly could have happened to Brian in her mind.

Brian lived hidden away and filthy after that, scaring anyone who dared to cross his path. But every so often, he had vague, distant memories of a girl. Her floral perfume, her snakebite piercings, her ginger pigtails, her sparkly cherry lip gloss. He couldn’t quite remember her name, couldn’t quite get a full picture of her face, but she was constantly in the back of his mind. Meanwhile, she was alone and miserable in the now almost empty house they had once shared.

That’s when she realized that she was pregnant with his child.