Transformation Melody: Gage's Metamorphosis into Rachel - A Bewitching Morning Awakening

Gage Creed awoke in a haze, the morning sunlight trickling through the curtains and casting a warm glow around the room. He blinked sleepily, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The bed felt unusually large, the sheets silky against his skin. As he sat up, he noticed a peculiar sensation—a heaviness in his limbs, an odd tightness in his chest. Glancing down, Gage's confusion deepened. His small arms and legs seemed to stretch before his eyes, subtly growing longer, leaner. His pajamas, oversized and colorful, seemed to dissolve, transforming slowly into a more mature ensemble. The fabric wove itself into a soft, cream-colored blouse paired with a floral skirt that flowed around his legs. Instinctively, he reached for the ends of his clothing, brushing against delicate fabric and feeling its unfamiliar texture. As he fumbled with the sheets, he felt a weight by his feet shift, drawing his attention to the shoes now encasing them. His little sneakers morphed into elegant flats, their black polish gleaming in the morning light. Each transformation left him feeling more foreign, yet eerily comfortable. His hair, once tousled and short, cascaded around his shoulders in soft waves. Gage caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a reflection in the vanity mirror across the room. Instead of his small face gazing back, he saw Rachel Creed. Or, at least, someone who looked very much like her. He blinked, confusion lacing his features, a word forming in his throat. "Mommy?" he whispered, a voice that was neither his nor entirely hers escaping his lips. The reflection mouthed his words with seamless precision, but he still couldn't reconcile the truth—a truth he couldn’t yet grasp. Gage raised a slender hand to touch his cheek, watching as the woman in the mirror mirrored him perfectly. He turned his head side to side, the world tilting slightly, his identity unfurling like the layers of clothing now enveloping him. He felt adrift, reaching out to her, the woman staring back. The room was wrapped in silence, broken only by the beating of his—no, her—heart, steady and rhythmic, a drum guiding Gage in this bewildering dance. Lost in a sea of unfamiliar feelings, he tried to anchor himself, focusing on the comfort of the familiar scent lingering around him—his mother's perfume mingling with his own uncertainty. And still, the question lingered on his lips, "Mommy?" Soft, seeking, searching for an answer in the reflection, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she would give him one.

Within the eerie confines of the ominous Creed residence, the morning sun casts an uncertain light into the gloomy rooms. On this specific morning, the room that once belonged to Rachel Creed appears untouched and drenched in a somber silence. On the bed, an uncanny scene unfolds — the small figure of Gage Creed stirs beneath the covers. Waking amidst cool satin sheets and plush pillows, the young boy squints into the slivers of sunlight piercing through the sided curtains. He's dressed unusually, in his mother's floral nightgown which feels plainly odd against his tender skin. Silken fabric drapes over his small figure, the oversized garment barely clinging to his small shoulders. Running his small hands over the fabric, he grows increasingly confused. His gold-hued plaid pajamas have been replaced by an adult woman's garment. The comfort he usually receives from his bedtime attire had been traded for the unfamiliar feel of delicately embroidered edges brushing against his palms. Mind reeling with bewilderment, Gage ventures out of bed, feeling strange under his bare feet. Peering down, instead of his warm snuggly slippers, he sees a pair of his mother's black pumps, at least three sizes too big, yet snug on his small feet. Driven by mounting anxiety, he rushes to the vanity mirror in the corner, seeking understanding. However, the reflection staring back at him pushes his confusions to the depths of fear. His blonde hair seems to slowly darken into the chestnut hues characteristic of his mother's. His previously soft cheeks seem to mature, taking on the tint of regular makeup. Disconcertingly, his bright blue eyes, once bursting with boyish energy, now reflect the same emotion carried within his mother's gaze — a haunted look that hints at old pain and untold secrets. He reaches out to touch the mirror before hesitating, his hand hovering in the air, trembling. His innocent confusion yields to a greater sense of despair as his physical transformation advances. In a soft whisper, a desperate question slips, "Mommy?" Yet the voice that rings in the room is neither small nor boyish, but a melodious maternal tone — the familiar voice of Rachel Creed. In an uncanny twist of fate, Gage Creed wakes up in his bed, physically turned into his mother Rachel Creed - dressed in her nightgown and shoes, reflecting her appearance, voice, and beyond. Can he comprehend this unfathomable transformation - remains an obscurity. Stripped of his innocent childish nature, Gage is left smarting from his transformation – innocently confused, frenzied, yet with no idea of what is happening to him. He's submerged in an abyss of bewilderment, wistfully staring into a mirror that no longer mirrors him, but his mother. The house, draped in the morning's deceptive glow, possesses one more secret, a chilling testament to its haunted nature and lurks at the edges of an innocently uttered "Mommy?"