4/5 Audition - Divine Inferno

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I've always wanted to do a transformation sequence. I haven't yet because they looked hard... I was right. I'll just leave the better depiction of this scene to the writing...


Scroll down for the written story!

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Nicodemus Woolwine
Mortal Reference: [Link]
Demon Reference: [Link]

Cover Page: Divine Inferno - Cover Page
Page 1: Audition - Page 1
Page 2: Audition - Page 2
Page 3: Audition - Page 3
Page 4: YOU ARE HERE!
Page 5: Audition - Page 5


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..:: STORY ::..

Nicodemus Woolwine began to frantically rummage around, gathering various components that he had been working on to cure the plague. None of them were yet proven to work, but he would do anything not to die from this disease. The very thing he had been working so hard to protect people from.

His face was screwed up in concentration, but inside he was about ready to burst. He wanted so badly to scream, shout, cry. He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t! He still had so much to do, so many things to accomplish, so many people to save…

He washed his wounds in holy water, hissing when it burned his rent flesh like white-hot fire. Seeing as there was nothing else to lose, he drank some for good measure, and grimaced as it went down like he had swallowed a live coal. He reached for a small bottle that contained an experimental cure, and was horrified to see the changes had already begun to set in on his hand.

The black radiating from the wounds was traveling across his hand, and his fingernails seemed to be growing out to a sharp point right before his eyes. The black quickly spread across his arm, and his nails formed black, shiny claws.

Suppressing the urge to panic, he grabbed a syringe and drew some fluid from the bottle. He quickly stuck himself with the needle. He may as well have been dumping magma into his veins, with how badly it burned inside him. He'd never heard of such a thing happening, which only multiplied his panic.

His feet began to itch, and the itching quickly turned to agony, his arms following suit. In a panic, he didn’t even stop to think when he tore the sleeve from his arm to get a better look at what was going on. Strange plating was growing down the back of his forearm, reminding him vaguely of a bird’s foot.

Nick began to whimper pathetically now, his head had started to pound with a pain that made a migraine seem like a paper cut next to an amputation. He clutched his head, half believing he was holding it together. He felt something move under his fingers, and he stole a glance at a reflective sheet of metal on the side of a sample refrigerator. He saw two white horns growing from his temples. His hair was also fading to a darker color, and seemed nearly black in some places.

The pain traveled down his spine and he heard ripping fabric. He doubled over in pain as six white spikes began to protrude from his spine. The pain continued traveling downward until it hit the base of his spine, and strangely, kept going. Well past the tailbone. Upon further inspection, he found there to be was a tail growing! He watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as the tail grew longer, finally sprouting a scorpion-like barb at the end. He fell to his knees as his balance was thrown off from his twisted, morphing feet.

His legs were the focus of the pain now, and he noticed a shift in his balance that forced him to stand on his toes. However, he was too preoccupied by the agony that he began to topple to the floor. He caught himself on the edge of the counter and lowered himself to his knees.

His body still wracked with pain, Nick managed to grab the last bottle of medicine from the counter. As he reached for the vial, he caught a glance of himself in the reflective surface of the small fridge. The reflection showed dark circles around his eyes, making his face look like a skull. It was then he realized the rest of his face was indeed turning white as bone. In contrast, his hair had faded to black, as well as part of his skin around the neck. Feather-like patterns tattooed across his skin, slowly becoming 3D feathers.

Nicodemus downed the contents of the medicine bottle. This one didn’t hurt as much as the holy water, but that may have been because he was already in so much pain everywhere else that his nervous system couldn’t be bothered to act on any more distress.

Nick was full-on crying now, tears flowing freely down his sickly white face, his body in spasms from the agony. He fell to his knees, and watched through blurry eyes as his face began to extend. His lips hardened and became immovable, and his face morphed and mutated until it settled into a beak shape.

With one last final burst of unspeakable pain, Nick released a choked, crow-like cry, and slumped to the floor, unconscious.

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