Derrick giggled and slapped at the water, then said "Again!" Even as he said it he felt a mix of horror and anticipation. Part of him wanted to experience the magic, but he was afraid of regressing so far he no longer existed. The toddler brain was losing awareness of the risk, and it was harder to control his actions.
Hebe started rinsing him again, running her hands over his small body. The water clouded with mud, and Derrick stared as he dwindled once more, 18 months, then a year old. He pissed and pooped, the water once more cleaning him up. Hebe looked at him thoughtfully. "What now, little man? Perhaps not a man at all?" Just a little more and you will be as you entered the world, a wrinkled newborne babe. And then? I have so many options."
Derrick stared up at her, no longer able to talk. The words were still in his head, but the connection from brain to mouth was lost. He was confused, having trouble concentrating. What was she going to do with him?