You raise your hand towards the witch, recite the spell, and a bolt of ice shoots from your palm. It shatters into snow as it hits her, letting out a surprised gasp. A cold gust of wind began circling the witch, blowing around some papers, as a platform of ice formed below her.
You notice a glow on her feet. As it climbs her, it leaves behind ice; her shoes and feet have been fused together into what looks like misty glass. "It cast an ice sculpture spell; not bad for a novice," the witch chuckled.
She began to pose; even her already frozen legs were slowly yet surely moving. Was the spell controlling her body or influencing her mind, or did she choose to embrace her transformation, perhaps even expecting it? One foot in front of the other, the back foot standing on its tip, chest slightly twisted towards you, one hand on her hip, the other in front of her face as if resting on a lover's cheek.
The glow has reached her neck. Everything below it is a single piece of ice, a flawless crystal statue gleaming with the store's lights, their rays refracting across the witch's body. Her hair is joining together, each strand of hair fusing into a helmet. The witch gives you one last seductive look before closing her eyes and puckering her lips as the spell freezes her face.
The glow reaches her head, looking like a crown before fading away, and the wind dies down. A heavy silence hangs on the store as you stand mesmerized in front of the beautiful sculpture before you. You touch her arm; the sting of cold wakes you up.