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Question: Write the POV transformation story of the male human reader (a boy of 7 years old) turning into Crimson (from the Helluva Boss series), complete with clothes change, age progression, height progression, reality/world change (the reader's real world warping and turning into the world of Helluva Boss), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personalities and memories being completely replaced with Crimson's personality and memories, despite the reader's best efforts on fighting these mental changes and his attempts to call the reader's parents for help, making the reader permanently and completely forget about his past self as a normal human and only remember being Crimson, an imp and a mafia leader). The transformation into Fizzarolli is permanent (meaning it's forever) and completely irreversible. For Crimson's appearance (after the kid reader turned into him), he is a quite tall imp demon, standing closer in height to Blitzo, with white hair, black and white striped horns, and yellow sclera. Around his eyes are white markings, with the right being larger than the left. He possesses a crooked and bent tail with white accents near the base and on the middle of his tail fork. His appearance is similar to his son Moxxie, with similar hair and shape of his horns, however larger and slightly more jagged. Unlike his son (Moxxie), Crimson's skin is a darker shade of red and his legs appear to be plantigrade (like a human's), rather than digitigrade, but still have red cloven hooves (unlike human feet). He also has short-clawed fingers on his hands. All of Crimson's teeth are sharp fangs, while one of his fangs is a golden fang unlike the other teeth (which are white). Crimson's attire consists of a red high-collar shirt that grips his neck, topped by a navy blue coat with light blue accents, thin red stripes, red buttons, and red lining. His pants are dark blue which also have thin red stripes, and his shoes are black and red-heeled dress shoes. He also wears a black fedora with a red and white band. Crimson is a vicious and extremely ruthless crime boss that controls a large army of shark-like demon gangsters. He is horrifically abusive towards Moxxie since his childhood, constantly levying physical and psychological abuse towards Moxxie, and by extension his wife. He cultivates an aura of fear in those that know him, even towards his own family members and close associates like Moxxie and Chazwick. Ultimately, his greed and power come first to him, and he harbors no remorse for his victims. This comes to the point that he appears mentally prepared to kill blood-related family members, such as his wife and Moxxie, to advance his personal goals. Despite this, he is capable of exhibiting a seemingly jovial, warm, happy, and even charismatic presence when he chooses to do so, such as during his initial meeting with Blitzo and Millie, or during moments when he feels comfortable. However, he can be quick to discard this external display of affection as required. For Crimson's preference, he likes smoking, monetary gain, organized crime, mistreating Moxxie, and hanging body parts of his victims as house decorations; he however dislikes anyone who double-crosses him, anyone lesser than him, and anyone talking back to him. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
In a flurry of colors and noises, the world around me started warping and distorting. At first, I was playing with my toy dinosaur in my living room, the next moment, everything around me was turning shades of reds and your usual domestic elements transforming into hellish dwellings. The small chaos I caused with my toys seemed like child's play compared to the mayhem that was becoming my reality. But I was just a seven-year-old boy who swapped school stories with friends and spent afternoons helping mom in the kitchen, what was happening to me? My heavens, I was growing. In just moments, my world visage changed from the kneeling toddler's eye level to standing tall and starting at mom's surprised face. My clothes, purple shirt and shorts were changing too, kind of blending into my skin, turning red. A high-collared shirt along with a navy blue coat replaced it. Down below, my favorite blue jeans transmogrified into a darker blue pair of pants with thin red stripes. I could feel something clinging to my feet, my socks woven into black and red-heeled dress shoes. When I reached out to touch my face, my mom cried out. My hands, my stubby fingernails now bore short claws. As I touched my face, I could feel the bumps from the newly formed horns, black and white and striped like a zebra's. Was my hair white now? Or was it just a figment of my hyperactive imagination? Then came the thoughts. Dark thoughts, vengeful thoughts of leading a mafia, of being a boss. I wanted to shout out, call out for my parents, tell them I was scared, but the words seemed stuck. A powerful yearning to smoke a cigar, to gain more, to hold power over others welled up inside me. I could see the fear in my mother's eyes, but, there was a part of me that enjoyed it. There, in the midst of my transformation, I began losing my childhood memories. I wanted them, I fought for them, reached out for the disappearing images of my seventh birthday party, my dad teaching me to ride the bike, but a blood-red tide of newer, darker memories washed them away. Memories of exploiting, abusing, controlling were replacing my innocent knowledge. Every moment, I was becoming more like this Crimson, his personality seeping into and ousting my own. His desires became my desires; his experiences began to feel like my own. My parents were weeping in a corner, a certain horrifying realization rising in their eyes. They were losing their son and were helpless to stop it. But as each second passed, their memories, their visages were becoming vague, soon to turn into strangers. As I stepped forward, my new reality embracing me, I could see that the boy who existed before had disappeared, replaced by the demon mafia boss, Crimson. But even as the transformation took hold, my anger swelled with the remorseless recognition that there was no turning back. Crimson was me and I was him, and I could never escape that chilling fact. Yet, as I smirked at the fear in my so-called parents' eyes, I understood that this was a transformation I would have to endure. But there was a part of me, from the recesses of my old self, that whispered: "Goodbye, my old world. Hello, Helluva Boss."
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