Metamorphosis of Innocence: Gage Creed's Fateful Transformation into Zelda

In the quiet town of Ludlow, Maine, where strange secrets lay in wait, there lived a little boy named Gage Creed. Dressed in the comfort of his favorite cotton candy-colored pajama set, Gage wore the look of innocence at its very peak. His hair, a tangle of baby curls, was the shade of golden wheat under morning sunlight. His big sapphire eyes, reminders of a summer sky, sparkled with curiosity and childlike wonder. Now, Gage was nothing but a tiny, petit figure whose voice chimed like little church bells, delivering pure joy with every word it uttered. Overall, Gage was a heartening picture of youthful naivety untouched by the grim hand of the world -- too young to understand the peculiarity that lurked in the dark corners of his home. The transformation began rather subtly. On this particular night, Gage, in his pastel-colored pajamas, felt the presence of the inexplicable. His tiny spine experienced an unfamiliar tingling sensation, one that seemed to march up-and-down like an army of icy snowflakes. He felt his feet twinge with discomfort. His small hands, once warm and chubby with vivacity, felt cold and bony. The once sprightly boy began to metamorphose before his very eyes. His reflection in the mirror was transforming into something he was far too young to comprehend. This time, the boy who returned his gaze from the other side of the mirror wore a ragged lacy nightgown of a haunting ghostly white. His spine, once agile, now took on a grotesque, hunched form; hardened and curved as if sculpted by the cold hands of fright itself. His feet, seemingly elongated, now appeared larger and swollen in worn-out, faded slippers. His once chubby, tender hands now seemed to be elongated, skin pallid and veins visible, with bony fingers that ended in bitten nails. Sky-blue eyes now took on a gleaming crimson hue, terrifying yet mesmerizing at once. His voice, now echoed with a deep richness forming a stark contrast to his earlier cherubic chime, carried a tone of prolonged suffering and torment. It was reminiscent of the daunting voice of Zelda - his late aunt - who used to share her bittersweet chronicles of life and death with him. As Gage stared into the mirror, he saw Zelda peering back at him. The reflection bore the look of a worn-out soul, merely surviving rather than living. In his pint-sized heart, Gage felt an overwhelming confusion, a concoction of fear and bewilderment, seeing his transformation into a figure of eerie familiarity. His metamorphosis, uncalled and unforeseen, held him captive in a world he was far too young to understand. As Gage bore the reflection of Zelda in the mirror, the innocence within him waned, allowing the shadow of the unknown to cast its enigmatic darkness. Despite his confused state, he didn't know why this was happening to him. While watching his transformation in the mirror, he resigned to his fate, surrendering to the enigma that had gripped his tender years - a haunting glimpse into a realm well beyond his innocence.