Monstrous

The light was dim. Yet Lois Lane's eyes were wide, taking in all she could see. Reporters noticed details, remembered things carefully. Every instinct told Lois that there was something momentous happening here...or monstrous.

A bright red splotch appeared on Angelica's breast, over the heart. It almost looked like she was bleeding. It grew, slowly, irregularly, like a cancer eating up the pale soft flesh of Supergirl. As it spread, the skin and bone left behind began to change...

The reporter had been down in South America once, doing a report on an ancient line of birds. The chicks hardly looked like birds at all, with claws and without feathers, like tiny grizzled dinosaurs, stuck halfway between the ancient forms that were and the more refined forms they would one day become. What Blaze became reminded Lois very much of that strange, intermediate shape.

The crimson stain covered all of Blaze's chest now. The breasts, once so big and jiggly, flattened and sagged against the suddenly bony rib cage. Underneath the topmost pair, a second, tiny pair of pink nipples emerged and swelled...two sets of breasts, one above the other, each tit small but...uneven, unbalanced, the left side bigger than the right, the nipples and areola didn't quite match...

Bones shifted beneath the skin, stretching it out further. In the dim light, it looked to Lois like red leather, with dark black hair creeping up the belly. Those thin shoulders hunched and jutted, shoulder blades poking out the back like the half-formed bones of wings trying to be born.

Red stains grew down the limbs, which were longer now, somehow apelike, and ended in six-fingers hands. For a moment Lois thought about turning away...and those hands grasped her head, holding the reporter's gaze fixed. They were so big...so warm...that Lois felt like her skull was an eggshell trapped between the two vast palms.

It was almost over. The whole body was blood red now, the lower legs lost in a mass of black hair, which even crept up the shaft of the pink, animalistic cock still embedded in the reporter's sopping cunt. Only the face remained...and there was a tragedy in that face, because it was almost human, almost beautiful. The eyes were wells of light, pure white without pupil or iris, set deep in skull-like sockets surmounted by dark, curling horns...but the mouth was wide, the lips full and generous, the nose straight and almost classically beautiful.

"Now you see," Blaze said, and the voice was deeper than before. "What heart could love this face, this body?"