My Model (BL)
“Whatever you are, whatever you’re trying to become—I’ll cut it down.”
Lazarus’s grin widened, his pupils splitting into vertical slits. His voice deepened, echoing as though spoken by a thousand mouths.
“You can’t cut what has no form.”
His body convulsed, bones cracking, flesh warping. Black tendrils burst from his back, writhing like serpents. His skin turned ashen, his veins glowing with red fire. Horn-like protrusions pushed from his skull, and when he opened his mouth, the voice that came out was no longer human.