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Question: Write a POV transformation story of the 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.
I felt strange that day. As a 10-year-old boy, I was used to the typical bumps and bruises life had to offer, but this time was different. I ran my fingers through my hair, looking down to see a shock of white strands. "Mom! Dad!" I cried out, but as my voice echoed, I sensed something otherworldly slithering in the depths of my brain, snaking its way through my thoughts. My 10-year-old world morphed, twisted, and warped, transforming from the comforting mundanity of my hometown to a strange, alien reality saturated with hues of hellish red. I felt as if I was gripping the edges of my humanity and being pushed away from it. "I'm me, I'm... me," I stammered, the echoes of laughs and taunts ricocheted off my thoughts. The mental assault intensified, and time started to fast forward, my size increased, my height increased, while I struggled in Aguished surprise, "What's happening to me?" My clothes changed drastically — my typical t-shirt and shorts became an elaborate ensemble of a red high-collar shirt topped by a navy blue coat with light-blue accents and striped with thin red, as well as dark blue striped pants. My feet slipped into sharp-looking black dress shoes with red heels, as my mind latched onto the last thread of my human existence. I ran to the mirror, my hands shook as my eyes, now glowing bright yellow, met my reflection. "I'm not a monster," I whimpered, noticing the white markings around my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but the transformation was relentless. Sharp fangs had replaced my primary teeth, one particularly striking golden fang among them; my horns had grown similarly jagged and striped, contrasting with my blood-red skin. The implantation of new memories had begun, and as much as I tried to fight them and cling to my past life's recollection, the transformation was inevitable. I was being woven into the threads of this new reality. Somewhere along the line, the memories of my previous existence faded, replaced with a much more sinister, ruthless persona. His name was Crimson, an imp, a terrifying mafia boss that ruled the criminal underworld with an iron fist. His victims, held in an aura of fear, would tremble at the mere mention of his name. Despite the monstrosity that he embodied, sacrilegiously, he could also exude warmth, charisma and joviality when necessary. Images of smoking, body-parts hanging as decorations, intense hatred of anyone lesser or double-crossing came flooding in, as the footsteps of the past retreated, fading into nothingness. By the time my new tail appeared, crooked and bent with white accents, my transformation was complete. I watched as fingers evolved into short-clawed limbs, while the cloven hooves - the final installment - replaced my human feet. Admiration of my new appearance was disturbing but strong. I reached up to the black fedora hanging on the mirror's wall, adjusting it to match my new persona. My old self, the 10-year-old boy who loved his parents and the familiarity of his world, was gone. All there was is me, Crimson. The past was a forgotten legend; this was my reality now, irreversible and inescapable. "Welcome, Crimson," a warped voice echoed in my new reality, "The reign begins now." The world of Helluva Boss had fully claimed me by then; my transformation was irreversible and final. I looked back at the mirror, not recognizing the human that once stood there, but relishing in the demon that stands there now.
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