Page 30 of Possession

Still on his knees, crouched forward in a bow, the first, most obvious change is his back. The muscles and bones begin to rapidly adjust and grow, pulling against his shirt until there’s a sudden rip, followed by several more tears in the fabric. The holes in the shredded cotton reveal shifting, expanding skin and bone, turning well-earned, natural muscles into bulbous masses of sinew. The growth doesn’t stop after the shirt splits—instead, the tearing seems to embolden the change, and his muscles expand quicker than they did before.

The rest of his body races to catch up: Ryan’s neck expands and thickens, chest gets wider and tighter, quadrupling in size. His arms go from massive to colossal, with bands of corded muscle increasing inches in width at a time. By the time Aris is forced to back up again, Ryan’s unflexed bicep is five feet across and still growing.

Ryan stands as his feet break through his shoes, the leather shooting across the room from the sudden and inexplicable change in pressure. The material lands somewhere in the distance, probably putting a hole in the wall.

HIs thighs and legs grow until his pants are ruined and can hardly cover his manhood. Even that is getting bigger, and my attention quickly goes to his bones. They are literally stretching, contorting and lengthening and thickening as his original six foot-something in height turns to seven, eight, and then nine feet. His shadow slowly falls longer and wider across the room, shrouding the rays of the sun passing through the stained glass, sending an already dark room into cool, unmitigated blackness.

If I had control of my eyes, they would be wide with horror, but Aris has them slitted in satisfaction as he watches a man morph into a monster right in front of him. Because of him.

I’m giving him what he wants.

He isn’t wrong. I heard Ryan himself ask for it, but how could he want this? He has all of the right parts, but he could never be mistaken for a human being. He can never go out in public without hearing the screams of children or being recorded by teenagers. People with the calmest of dispositions wouldn’t be able to make sense of him—hell, I’m inside of an all-powerful god, and I’m still scared.

Aris takes a few steps back and even still must strain my neck to meet Ryan’s eyes. Those, at least, have returned to normal, though there’s something flinty and harsh in them now. He doesn’t appear dumbed down or like he’s mindless in any way—he looks more focused, actually, and he’s clearly aware of the situation.

“Will you serve me?” Aris asks.

Immediately, the massive creature moves, abominably muscular legs folding as Ryan takes a knee to show respect. The sudden drop in what must be well over a thousand pounds of muscle causes the floor to briefly quake, but Aris’ footing remains sure, staring at his follower steadily.

Even kneeling, Ryan is much taller than me, when just a few minutes ago he came to about my shoulders from the same position. Now, he towers, humongous and daunting.

There’s a moment of silence—not peace, since I can’t dare to hope—but an air of ardent worship before heavy breathing and clapping distracts Aris from his creation. He turns to see Silva, the man utterly overwhelmed with tears as he commends his god.

“My Lord,” he murmurs over and over until his vehemence makes him miss a clap and he falls to his knees. “My Lord, Holy One, Chaos and Dark Lord…”

Bored, Aris returns his attention to Ryan. If the name didn’t suit him before, it certainly doesn’t now. At his full height, he reaches to tear the gauze off the side of his face and balls it in his hand. The wound is completely healed, as if several months have passed, but there’s no new ear, just scar tissue. I half wonder if, now that he has the power, he’ll strike against Aris for maiming him yesterday, but Ryan does no such thing. It takes just one look at him to see the blatant adoration he holds for Aris.

Well, it’s been an eventful day, wouldn’t you say?

I’m so busy taking in what just happened that I miss what he means at first. Hang on, hang on, you want to put me back up front?

It should be lunchtime soon. Maybe it is already.

So?

Aris looks over his new creation again, feeling uncharacteristically content. His response is breezy, like he’s just come back from vacation. Mary, I thought that you liked having control over your body.

Not when I’m around him! He was scary before—now he’s like Hercules times ten!

Hm.

“You serve Mary, too,” Aris suddenly says. His voice is sharp. An order.

Leaning on one knee with his head bowed, Ryan simply nods, expression unchanging.

Happy?

Not really. If I could, I’d groan. I’d like some more time coming to terms with the Frankenstein creature, but Aris seems insistent on switching. But fine.

Like emerging from a pile of mud, I return to myself with a sickening squelch. I have to wiggle a few of my fingers before I fully believe it, but the transition works. Ryan, who seems to immediately notice the change, loses the gleam in his eye, though he doesn’t scowl… which is an improvement.

Since it hurts my neck staring up at him, I turn to Silva, who is still on the floor, muttering.

He should get up. I’m sure he now has many door frames to alter, says Aris.

Considering that you just made the tallest man alive, yeah, I’m sure he does.

He isn’t a man anymore.

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