Metamorphosis into the Lord of Hell: A Child's Journey to Become Lucifer Morningstar in Hazbin Hotel

As you read the last line of the novel you've been engrossed in, a strange feeling begins to wash over you. Your eight-year-old heart beats fast, as if akin to the drum solo in your favorite song. Out of nowhere, your now baggy clothes shrink against your skin, morphing into a high-collared white suit. The fabric is smooth, much higher quality than anything you've ever owned. Surprise fills your young mind, but it is instantly overshadowed by a sense of dread. You're changing and you don't understand why. The world spins and it seems heights reach out to meet you. As if some grotesque play on Alice in Wonderland, you see the world grow around you, or rather, you're the one growing. Suddenly, you're taller— too tall. The familiar perspective of looking up at everything is gone. Now you look down, at an adult level. Your mind screams in protest, begging for intervention. "Mom, Dad!" you cry out, but the world around you starts to distort, walls stretching, buildings collapsing and reforming until the sheets of reality peel away to reveal a new world full of ghouls and ghosts - the added vibrancy that is Hazbin Hotel. Try as you might to fight off these changes, your mind starts to erode, like sand slipping through your small fingers, replaced by a titanic wave of memories that are not your own. Recollections of Hell, memories of ruling, of puns, quips, and jokes, and an overarching flamboyant charm. These are Lucifer Morningstar's life, overwhelming yours. You struggle, a young boy trying to keep hold of his humanity, but slowly, your memories are wiped clean, replaced by centuries of sin and indulgence. Your skin brightens into a startling white, complementing the blonde hue growing from your scalp. Your eyebrows darken while your lips turn stark black, your mouth suddenly filling with sharp teeth and your face, void of any recognizable human features like ears or nostrils. In their place, however, were the vivid yellow eyes with slitted red pupils contrasting brightly against the purple eyelids and red cheeks. Your changed hands reach up to rest on your broad shoulders, a force of habit for a habit that is still foreign. Your hand meets a black bowtie, before trailing down to a red undershirt. A white top hat adorns your head and an elegant black cane balancing by your side - both decorated with a motif of a golden snake coiling around a red apple. A sense of regality consumes you, indicative of your new status. The world no longer held an eight-year-old human boy but a serpentine king. Uneasiness settles on you, this is not what it feels like to be you, yet you belong. This is your life now. You glance at your reflection, only to be faced with Lucifer Morningstar. The king of Hell himself, the doyen of sin, the love of Lilith Morningstar. "Is this my fate? To reign as the king, no longer a human, but a demon?" You ponder, voicing out your thoughts. "Such melancholy doesn't suit you, love," a voice teases lovingly near you, it's familiar, Lilith. Your wife. Everything urges you to correct her, you're just an eight-year-old boy, but the words lodge in your throat. The last tether to your humanity, your past life slips away; you're not the innocent human boy anymore. "Perhaps you're right, my dear," you reply, a pun forming on your lips that wouldn't look out of place in the modern world, "let us have some fun." And with that, Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell, lives on, while the young boy’s past vanishes into oblivion, a distant echo consumed by the eternal fires of Hell. There's no going back; transformation is complete. The reign of the immortal, charismatic, and witty Lucifer had indeed begun.