It was dark as I drove Molly home that night. I kept stealing a glance back at her whenever I could, as she writhed and moaned in pain from the passenger seat. In the dim light, her skin looked unnaturally pale, with a sudden bluish tint to it that I assumed was just the moonlight through the windshield...
I had to keep my eyes on the road, but I put out my hand to comfort Molly. She held onto it tightly, even as her own hands trembled and shook, her whole body jerking back and forth violently out of the corner of my eye. I could feel her skin against mine as it grew cold and clammy, her fingernails suddenly seeming sharper and scratching at my flesh. But I knew she didn’t mean to hurt me, and I wasn’t about to let go.
The obvious thing to do would’ve been taking her to the hospital, but I was afraid to try that. We’d just escaped from the sick clutches of this madman who had a whole stable of mutant-creatures at his disposal - who could say how deep his connections went? I didn’t trust the authorities to help. And it didn’t really register with me what was happening to Molly. I thought she was just traumatized...
But by the time I pulled into the driveway, I could see that something more was happening, something I could hardly believe. I realized that Molly was bending so far forward because something was stuck to her back - no, growing out of her back - and wedged against the seat. And whatever it was, it made a fluttering motion as she fumbled with her seatbelt and got out of the car in a daze.
Only now did I really get a good look at her, and my jaw dropped. Molly was barely recognizable, her clothes ripped and in tatters, her skin not just cold but covered in a layer of blue scales. Her face was the only reminder of who she was supposed to be, and even that had taken on the same vaguely reptilian appearance as the rest of her. I watched as a long, thick tail slipped out of the door behind her, large lizard claws stepping out of her shredded heels and onto the pavement.
And despite everything, Molly seemed oblivious at first, stumbling to the door as if she didn’t notice her strange new feet. “Are you... feeling okay?”, I called after her, not quite sure how to broach the subject.
“I’m fine,” she replied stubbornly, the house key slipping out of her claws as she pressed it against the lock. “I just need to lie down right now, and in the morning, all of this will go away.”
I stepped up right behind her and tried to help with opening the door, only to get a face-full of... wing? Yes, somehow those were wings sticking out of her back, large and flat and leathery, and involuntarily moving as her muscles twitched, no matter how much she might prefer to think it was all a bad drug trip. And in case there was any chance that I was the one hallucinating - well, the way my mouth smarted after that accidental slap left no doubt in my mind.
She eventually got inside without my help, and I followed right behind her, wishing I could do something for her. Her wings, which moved aimlessly behind her, scraped against the sides of the narrow hallway and knocked a couple pictures off the wall - pictures of the two of us together. But the real trouble began when Molly walked past the mirror. She did a double-take at the sight of her reflection, then stared at herself with wide eyes as she put her hands up to the surface, her claws digging deep gouges into the glass. She screamed in horror, but the sound soon escaped her normal vocal range and turned into a vicious roar. And that, of course, only frightened her more.
“Are you seeing this?!”, she cried out to me, still wanting to believe it was all just in her head.
I knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but I couldn’t lie. “Yes,” I said calmly. “It’s real.”
She bent over and started sobbing, her wings instinctually wrapping around herself like a protective blanket. “They got me,” she cried. “I’m a monster! Get away! Don’t look at me!”
I leaned forward and put a hand on her back. “Molly,” I said patiently, “I will always love you. It doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside, because I know it’s you on the inside.” What I didn’t tell her was that I actually kind of liked the way she looked on the outside, too. Her reptilian features weren’t hideous to me, they were exciting! They reminded me very much of an old cartoon character I’d had a crush on in my childhood, and a part of me was bursting with enthusiasm, wanting to know if she had all the same powers. But I knew it wouldn’t make her feel any better to say that. Maybe there would come a time to admit it, but not now.
Molly eventually calmed down enough to go to bed. I could tell she enjoyed the feeling of my touch more than she ever had before. She must have become cold-blooded, the way she curled up against me and absorbed my body heat. And I didn’t mind the other end of the cuddling at all - it was like having a pillow that never stopped being cold. Exhausted from the bizarre day we’d just had, both of us fell asleep quickly.
In the morning, I woke up slowly, feeling something cold and round under my outstretched arm. The memory of the previous night came back to me, and without opening my eyes, I could guess that it was the curve of Molly’s breast. She didn’t seem to mind the way I was unconsciously fondling her - she didn’t jerk away from my touch or anything - so I kept my hand right there.
But her skin wasn’t just cold, it was hard, and the texture was strangely rough. I slowly opened my eyes, curious. I saw Molly lying on her back in the same altered shape she’d gone to bed with, but her skin had changed from blue to gray - a uniform color over every part of her, from her hair to the tips of her sharp claws. I probably should’ve seen it coming the moment I remembered what character she looked like. Molly was a gargoyle, and now, in the morning light, she’d turned to stone.
“Molly!”, I shouted. “Can you hear me?”