Star Zaraki:
September 6, 2025
13:37 CST
S.A.F. Medical Facility
Cedar Rapids IA.
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Lying in the hospital bed, I watched in disbelief as Director Staroko began to transform before my very eyes. His and Cayro's growls filled the room, each of them locked in a primal stare-down. Dr. Volkova tugged urgently at my arm, trying to pull me from the bed, but I was frozen, paralyzed by the horrifying spectacle unfolding before me.
“Star, you need to move. Now. They’re locked in a dominance challenge,” she urged, her voice frantic.
But I couldn’t move. My gaze was fixed on the Director, who was ripping off his shirt as fur began to sprout from his skin. Every instinct in my body screamed that he was going to hurt Cayro, and I couldn't allow that to happen—not again. A third growl joined the fray, low and feral, and it took me a moment to realize it was mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. Volkova backing away cautiously. Then, in a blur, Director Staroko lunged at Cayro.
Time seemed to slow, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Dr. Volkova was reaching out, trying to stop the Director. He was mid-leap, his monstrous form hurtling toward Cayro, who had taken a step forward to meet him. And then, something inexplicable happened.
One moment, I was sitting in the bed; the next, everything went pitch black. When my vision cleared, I was standing between them, arms outstretched. The room exploded into chaos—objects crashing to the floor, people thrown against the walls—yet I remained the only one standing, untouched in the epicenter of the storm.
I heard Dr. Volkova gasp, her body plastered against the wall near where she had been standing moments before. I turned my head slowly to look at Director Staroko. He lay half-plastered to another wall, half-crumpled on the floor, his wolfish features twisted in shock. It was almost comical, seeing this fearsome creature looking up at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. A low growl rumbled through me, surprising even myself with its vicious, almost guttural depth.
“Don’t ever touch Cayro, or I will personally turn you into a fucking rug,” I snarled, my voice unrecognizable, even to me. The ferocity in my words was matched only by the fire in my chest, a protective rage I’d never felt before. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me, and turned to face Cayro.
He was staring at me with the same look of shock, his eyes wide, disbelief etched into every line of his face. I reached out a hand to help him up, but he flinched, leaning away from me as I bent down. That’s when I noticed it—something was terribly wrong. My vision caught on my arm, and for a second, I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing. Blinking hard, I brought my hand closer to my face, trying to make sense of it.
It wasn’t my hand. Instead of the familiar sight of my own skin, I saw a claw—covered in iridescent black scales, each digit ending in a three-inch-long talon, slightly curved and deadly. I flexed my fingers, watching the claw move in sync with my thoughts, as if testing the reality before me. The scales, dark and glossy, faded into skin just before my elbow.
Panic surged through me. My breath quickened as I examined my other hand, finding it identical—scaled, clawed, inhuman. I shot to my feet, the medical gown fluttering around my legs, which were similarly covered in those same scales. My toes ended in shorter talons, scratching against the floor.
I looked back at Cayro, still sprawled on his back, staring up at me with a mixture of awe and fear. The terror on my face must have mirrored his as the full realization of what I had become finally sank in.
“What happened to me?” I cried out, my voice rough and gravelly, sounding foreign to my own ears. Panic surged through me as I clasped my head, trying to make sense of what I was feeling. My fingers brushed against two sets of protrusions just past my hairline. The first pair was slightly larger, the second set smaller, all four angling backward. Horns. I had horns.
Desperate for answers, I spun around, my eyes darting toward Dr. Volkova and Director Staroko. Their faces were masks of shock, mirroring the terror I felt inside. My gaze then landed on the bathroom door, and without thinking, I bolted toward it, flipping on the light switch as I reached the sink. The reflection staring back at me was someone—or something—I didn’t recognize.
I was frozen in place, horrified by what I saw. My face was framed by ridge-like scales tracing my jawline and upper cheekbones, giving me a sharp, angular appearance. The scales continued along my ears, which had elongated into pointed, elfin shapes, but black and scaly instead of soft and human. My once familiar amethyst eyes were now glowing brightly, the pupils elongated into slits like a cat’s. But the most shocking were the four horns jutting out from my head, just past my hairline.
Horns. I had fucking horns.
I stood there, paralyzed by disbelief, my mind reeling. Scales, claws, glowing cat eyes, and now horns? What the hell was happening to me? Panic clawed at my chest, tightening its grip with every passing second. I barely registered Cayro’s presence as he approached from behind.
“Star? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tentative, as if he didn’t already know the answer.
“DO I LOOK LIKE I AM OKAY?!” I yelled, my voice a mixture of rage and fear as I spun to face him. “I have scales, claws, glowing cat eyes, and fucking horns! No, I am not okay!”
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Cayro bit his lower lip, trying—failing—to suppress a smile. His amusement only fueled my anger.
“WHAT?!” I snapped.
“You forgot to mention your tail,” he said, his grin finally breaking through.
My eyes widened in horror. A tail? I spun around, trying to see if he was serious. Sure enough, if the horns weren’t bad enough, I was sorely mistaken. I had a gods-damn tail. I grabbed it, bringing it around to examine it, still in disbelief. It was long and slender, covered in the same iridescent black scales as the rest of my new, alien skin. It ended in a broad spike, shaped like an arrowhead.
I just stood there, holding my tail, staring blankly as my left eyelid twitched uncontrollably. The absurdity of it all was too much to process. That’s when I heard Cayro start giggling.
“Your eye is twitching, Star. It’s really cute,” he said between giggles.
I shot him a flat stare, my patience snapping. Without thinking, I punched him in the jaw, sending him stumbling out of the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, sinking to the floor with my back pressed against the door. Hugging my knees tightly, tears began to stream down my cheeks. My body trembled, the panic overwhelming me, as I tried to grapple with the monstrous reflection I had just seen.
What in the hell had happened to me? I looked grotesque, and all Cayro could do was giggle and crack jokes? My mind spiraled, racing in circles, trying to make sense of this nightmare. The cold tile beneath me offered no comfort as I sat there, feeling more alone and terrified than I ever had before. Minutes felt like hours as I sat there, my world crumbling around me.
A soft knock on the door broke through my haze of despair.
“Star, it’s Dr. Volkova. May I please come in?” she asked gently, her voice tinged with her Russian accent.
I stayed silent, too ashamed to respond. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I looked like a monster. No, I was a monster—just like Director Staroko and Cayro. A shuddering sob escaped me as the awful truth sank in.
“Star, sweetheart, I’ve sent the men out of the room. It’s just us now, so you don’t have to worry,” Dr. Volkova’s voice filtered through the door, gentle yet firm.
I stifled another sob before finding my voice, though it trembled with every word. “I look like a monster, and I don’t want to be around anyone.”
“Sweetheart, you are not a monster. I can help you shift back to your original form,” she continued, her tone reassuring.
Her words gave me pause. I could change back? That didn’t make any sense. How could I believe that when I looked so hideous, so alien? What on earth was wrong with me? Was this some twisted punishment for the harm I’d caused? Was I evil, and this was my penance?
“I can coach you through the shift, but it would be much easier if you came out of the bathroom,” Dr. Volkova insisted, her voice patient and unwavering.
Her words pierced through the fog of my panic, offering a small lifeline to cling to. She said I could change back. But what if she was wrong? What if I was stuck like this forever? A familiar presence nudged at the edges of my mind, a quiet plea for me to trust, to try. But I wasn’t ready to let it in—not yet. I could feel the message, though: “Just try. Everything will be okay.”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I stood up and faced the door. My hand—no, my claw—trembled as I reached for the handle. The panic still clawed at my insides, threatening to overwhelm me. Summoning every ounce of strength, I gripped the handle and twisted it, the lock clicking open with a small, almost insignificant sound. Slowly, I opened the door, revealing myself to Dr. Volkova.
She didn’t say a word, her expression a calm mask, though her eyes were soft, kind. She gestured toward the bed, and I followed, leaving the small sanctuary of the bathroom behind. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I couldn’t bring myself to look up, my gaze fixed on the claws that had replaced my hands.
Dr. Volkova knelt in front of me, her hand gentle as she lifted my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. She traced the lines of the scales that adorned my face, her touch warm and steady.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, her tone filled with genuine admiration. “You are extraordinarily beautiful, Lady Zaraki.”
“No, I’m not. I’m a monster,” I croaked, my voice cracking as I broke eye contact, looking away from her.
She used her other hand to guide my face back to hers, cupping my cheeks with both hands, her touch firm yet comforting.
“Star, what makes a monster is what’s in their heart and soul, not what they look like on the outside. And I know for a fact that you have a heart of gold and a pure soul. You aren’t a monster. You are a beautiful, one-of-a-kind being who is just scared. Now, let’s get you back to your normal form,” she replied, her voice steady and reassuring.
Her words soothed me, if only a little. But the insecurity gnawed at me, relentless. How could anyone see beauty in what I had become? How could Cayro still love me like this? How could the crew stand to be around me, looking like some kind of beast? I couldn’t go out in public—I would be shunned, ridiculed. The trembling started again, my thoughts spiraling out of control.
“Star, I need you to stop worrying. I can sense your anxiety spiking again. I need you to focus on me and nothing else,” Dr. Volkova said, her voice cutting through the chaos in my mind.
I locked onto her eyes, forcing myself to focus on them, trying to drown out the chaotic storm of thoughts in my mind.
“Very good, Star. Now, I need you to look inside your mind,” she instructed softly, her voice a calm anchor in the sea of my panic.
I closed my eyes, doing as she said, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was supposed to be looking for.
“Feel your inner presence,” she continued, her tone steady and reassuring. “Remember your human form. Picture it clearly in your mind. That’s who you are—focus on being that person again.”
I visualized my normal self in my mind, the version of me that felt right, that felt like home. The image of my human form stood there, arms open, beckoning me to choose her. I concentrated, pushing my presence into that familiar body, the body that was truly mine—not this monstrous shell.
“Very good!” Dr. Volkova exclaimed, her voice laced with excitement.
Her enthusiasm made me open my eyes, and I saw the excitement and wonder sparkling in her gaze as she knelt before me. I quickly looked down at my hands, and relief washed over me—they were my hands, not claws or talons. I reached up to touch my face, feeling only skin, then my head—no horns. A surge of pure joy and relief overwhelmed me, and I leapt up, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. Tears of happiness streamed down my cheeks, unbidden and unstoppable.
“Thank you!” I cried, my voice trembling with emotion.
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart,” she whispered, returning the embrace with warmth.
I stepped back, wiping away the tears, and looked up at her.
“Now, we just need to practice a bit before we let the men back in,” she said, her tone suddenly serious.
“What?” I asked, startled. The last thing I wanted was to return to that other form.
“You heard me, Star. I want you to shift back and forth a few more times, just for practice,” Dr. Volkova explained, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“Why?” I asked cautiously, apprehension creeping into my voice.
“Because if this ever happens again, you need to know how to shift back,” she explained patiently. “I don’t want you feeling trapped in that other form, unable to return to yourself.”
I nodded, though the thought of transforming again made my stomach churn. Reluctantly, I sat back down, and she guided me through the process once more.