The Little Monster

The efficacy of the pills had waned, and I could sense a surge in my strength. Initially, I took those pills merely to pacify my rigid husband, who harbored issues with my natural appearance. Though the medication maintained a facade of beauty, it brought undesirable consequences—diminishing my strength, stature, and sensory acuity. The pills, concocted by my physicist husband, were designed to prevent an unsightly transformation, yet with each dose, my immunity increased.

Over the years, the pills had been effective, but their potency had now diminished. They no longer prevented the inevitable transformation; instead, they only slowed the process. Frustrated with the artificial semblance they provided, I decided to abandon them.

One evening, after putting our daughter to bed, I confronted my husband beside ours. He inquired about the pills, to which I defiantly declared my cessation. Aware of their diminishing effectiveness, I expressed my dissatisfaction with the compromised senses they offered and the unnatural appearance they bestowed.

In a desperate plea, my husband insisted they still had some effect. The argument escalated, unbeknownst to us, within earshot of our daughter. As tensions soared, my transformation commenced.

My features distorted, resembling a white fox with an elongated jaw. My body underwent a metamorphosis—increasing in size, muscle, and acquiring a dark hue. My husband confessed that it was my personality, not appearance, that troubled him. Unconvinced, I retorted, revealing my monstrous form.

Distraught, my husband beseeched me not to go, but it was too late. I left and returned hours later, having dealt with the neighbors in a terrifying manner. Concerned about our daughter, I rushed to find her missing from her room. My husband informed me she had overheard our argument and, distressed, went out in search of me, calling for "mommy."

Panicked, we searched for Scarlett, only to find her holding the lifeless bodies of the neighbors. Astonished, my husband marveled at her changed appearance, remarking that she resembled me. Scarlett confessed to consuming the neighbors, justifying it as a response to anyone calling me a monster. Concerned about potential legal repercussions, my husband and I grappled with the situation, contemplating the evidence and Scarlett's actions.

In the end, we decided to dispose of any evidence, and I consumed the remains of the neighbors to avoid detection. Despite the gruesome events, we reassured each other that, without nosy neighbors, we could live as monsters in peace. A strange sense of familial unity emerged, and my husband and I agreed to abandon the pills, opting for a diet of raw animals to avoid further complications.

As we retired for the night, Scarlett expressed her love for her father, and our family, now fully embracing our monstrous nature, found an unexpected but disturbing harmony.

Days turned into weeks, and we adapted to our newfound existence. The absence of the neighbors allowed us to revel in our monstrous forms without fear of judgment or interference. Scarlett, with her inherited traits, became an integral part of our peculiar family dynamic. Her encounters with the neighbors served as a macabre defense mechanism,

The pills, once a reluctant ally in my quest to meet society's standards of beauty, had lost their charm. As I sensed a newfound strength surging within me, I reflected on the journey that led me to this moment. Initially, these pills were a pacifier for my uncompromising husband, who couldn't reconcile himself with my natural appearance. Crafted by the hands of my physicist spouse, the pills held the promise of maintaining a veneer of beauty, but their effects came at a cost—gradually diminishing my strength, stature, and the keenness of my senses. A creation meant to stave off an unsightly transformation inadvertently fueled my immunity with each administered dose.