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Question: Write the POV transformation story of a male human reader (a boy of 10 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.
The ten-year-old reader sat sprawled on his bedroom floor, reading his favorite comic book - Helluva Boss. The jovial chaos of the comic's world typically felt as unreal but entertaining as any piece of fiction. Today, however, the comic's bright colors seemed oddly vibrant. The images jumped off the page and spun around him as if possessed. The child shook his head, blinking his eyes. Some trick of the imagination, surely. Suddenly, he felt a strange itch ripple through his body. Glancing down, he realized with a shock his skin was changing, becoming darker, shifting to a shade of red… deep, devilish red. His heart pounded. He tried to calm himself, thinking it's just a hallucination... Though he was a naturally small child, he felt himself growing taller, his bones elongating, stretching in ways they shouldn't. His legs no longer folded comfortably, his feet widening, becoming hooves instead of human toes. He was terrified, but he couldn't scream or move. He braced himself on the floor, his hands forming short-clawed fingers. The black and white striped horns that sprouted from his scalp were final. He barely registered the pain. The sight of his crooked and bent tail swirling in the air was confirmation: he was transforming into something completely alien to his human existence. His clothes altered, morphing into a high-collared red shirt gripping tightly around his neck, a navy blue coat with light blue accents, and thin red stripes. His pants, too, took on dark blue colors, stripes of red accentuating them. His sneakers had been replaced by smart dress shoes, black with red heels. To his horror, his clothes were transmuting into those he recognized from his comic book — the uniform of...Crimson. The young boy wanted to call for his parents, but when he opened his mouth, sharp fangs glimmered, one a shining shade of gold. His voice sounded deep, harsh, unfamiliar. The world was no longer his - streets replaced by red skies, buildings shaded by the writhing bodies of shark-like gangster demons. It was no longer his old, peaceful neighborhood; it was the chaotic world he'd only seen penned by artists and writers. What scared him most was the change in his mind. Pictures and memories of his previous life seemed insignificant, abstract. He fought it with all his mental strength, but they were quickly replaced by current threats, the scarred faces of rival mafia bosses sprinkling his mind’s eye, and a calm desire to kill. The strong aroma of his preferred cigars clouded his thoughts, reminding him of his next mafia meeting. His personality began to lose its sweet innocence, replaced by a ruthless thirst for power, no tolerance for betrayal, a sadistic joy for control, and a flaming rage towards anyone daring to talk back. He felt a dark sense of satisfaction remembering how he'd mistreated Moxxie. He remembered his parents for a second but then… Moxxie, his son… where was his son? The boy’s parents, his home, his old life- everything was melting, evaporating. There was no boy anymore. There was only Crimson, the notorious demon mafia boss. He had always been Crimson and would forever remain Crimson. He laughed, echoing into the twisted, chaotic world of Helluva Boss; his terrifying reign had just begun. "I was born to rule this world, to cause chaos and fear", he cackled, his voice echoing in the crimson skies. "I'm not a ten-year-old, I'm Crimson. Always was, always will be."
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