Betty felt something sharp poking at her lower lip, then the pain went away as her mouth reshaped itself. Without thinking, she raised her hand to her mouth, then realizing that she could move her arm again. She felt her new tooth, a projecting fang. Am I becoming a vampire, she thought. For some reason that didn't seem right. Her new body felt healthy, not undead. I'm breathing, she thought, so not a vampire.
Betty moved her legs. She got out of bed, and looked down at her body, now covered only by a nightgown. It was brown with a faint tinge of green. Some kind of monster, then. For some reason, that didn't bother her. Right now she was too excited about moving again to care about her particular species. She went in search of a mirror.
Betty looked into her own face. Although it had the standard eyes-nose-mouth-ears arrangement, it clearly wasn't human with a nose that looked more like a pig's, cute little fangs, and elaborately whorled ears. Suddenly a new thought entered her brain. I'm an orc. I hope I'm one of the modern revisionist orcs that are more sort of non-human barbarian types than Tolkien-style evil by nature orcs. But Tolkien hadn't had female orcs, and Betty was definitely still female. The nightgown had metamorphosed into a tough but flexible suit of leather armor, but it didn't conceal her breasts.
Raar! Betty roared and flexed the powerful new muscles of her arms. Watch out humies, here comes Betty the orc!