A Devilish Transformation: The Tale of an 11-Year-Old boy Becoming Lucifer Morningstar

I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, transfixed by the compelling narrative that played out on my TV screen. Hazbin Hotel, an adult animated series that introduced me to an unfamiliar world of the supernatural. Engrossed in the show, I found myself fantasizing about these fantastical characters, imagining myself as part of their thrilling escapades—especially that of Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell himself. This fantasizing soon grew from a simple desire to a deep yearning, a bizarre thought flickering away like an untamed flame. Little did I know that the thought would soon evolve into a transformative power far beyond my comprehension. A strange warmth washed over me, like I’d stepped into a sunbeam. I felt my body growing, as if I was a tree shooting up towards the light. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was certainly unexpected. As I hovered in the air, I watched in awe as the world around me began to morph. The white walls of my bedroom blurring and dissolving into the fiery landscape of Hell. My once peaceful neighbourhood was replaced with the chaotic scenery of the underworld. I could hear the deafening cheers and raucous laughter of the demons that the Hazbin Hotel housed. Next came my clothing. First, my simple cotton t-shirt disintegrated, replaced by a high collar, white suit. My threadbare beige shorts transformed into polished knee-high heeled boots. I watched my hands morph, fingers thinning and lengthening, veins amplified under the paper-white skin. A gold ring materialized on my left pinkie, adorned with an inscription that I somehow knew to say, 'To my Dearest Love, Lilith.' My feet seemed to extend, muscles and bones shifting beneath the skin. Thin white gloves encased my hands, and a black bowtie snugly fitted itself against my shirt collar. Then, my face began to change. My nose disappeared, replaced by flat skin. My ears, too, faded away to nothing. My eyebrows darkened to a crisp black—the contrast stark against my chalky skin. My hair, teen black hair, faded away, replaced by blonde locks hinting at a high level of grooming. I lowered my gaze, catching the reflection in the mirror of my new eyes, yellow red-slitted orbs that radiated an eerie intensity. As my reality distorted, my mind followed suit. Memories of my life - my childhood, my friends, my family - all began to blur and dissipate. I tried to hold onto them, to keep some tether to my old life, but they slipped through my fingers like sand in a desert wind. New memories flooded in, millennia worth of experiences replaced my brief human existence. "Father, you've returned!" A familiar voice called out. Charlie, my daughter – I'm a father? In that moment, I felt my humanity wash away, replaced with the personality of Lucifer Morningstar. My thoughts echoed his voice. For a moment, I fought off the unusual sensation; I called out to my parents, to anyone from my past. But my voice was no longer mine. It was filled with sarcasm, a touch of nonchalance, and a solid phrase that made me chuckle internally: "Smile, my dear! You know, you're never fully dressed without one." I suddenly remembered the love I had for puns, the mundane, and the taste of a good apple. Finally, I felt my heart change. A fatherly warmth, an unending love for Lilith, my wife, filled it. I was Lucifer Morningstar. Surrendering, I let the transformation complete. My old world was a faded dream, distant and detached. "Ah, such a theatrical entrance!" Lilith sauntered over to me, her smile warm yet arch. I returned her smile with a smirk, "Darling, did you expect less?" And like that, my existence as an 11-year-old boy evaporated. I was Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, father to the Princess, and husband to Lilith. But oddly enough, as I navigated through the chaos of my new home, I felt comfortably in place.