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The flames of the torches began to dim as a black orb began to for around the throne. The wraithes began to snap and hiss as they began slowly fadding away. Jammie could only watch in horror as the man before her changed.

Jammie could hear her father praying on the ground next to her, a strange sound as he was never particularly fond of religions, "O Lord, Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Saviour, forgive my sins, just as You forgave Peter's denial and those who crucified You."

His hands crummpled inwards with pops and crackels as if every bone where breaking. His fingers, although short stubs now, where twice the size they'd once been. His nails grew out wards into fine points and popped again. The skin and muscle from the short stubs crawled upwards in thick strings that looked almost like worms.

His shoulders came up wards closer to his head then popped outwards trippling the size of his chest. The cloth rob around him ripped the reveal a flesh as black as obsidian, most of it pure muscle. His arms shot up to touch his shoulders only for the elbows to shoot outwards and double the arm length.

Jammie looked to Iid and yelled over the noise of the wind being sucked in towards the thing that had once been a man, "Iid, do something."

Iid forced a smile her way, "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Jammie asked, panic striking her.

Iid pointed at the bubble, "You see that? If I touch that he absorbs me too."

"This can't be happening!" Jammie cried.

Her fathers prayer continued, "Count not my transgressions, but, rather, my tears of repentance. Remember not my iniquities, but, more especially, my sorrow for the offenses I have committed against You."

Owl's spine shot outwards and grew in length as he cried out in pain. Spikes as long, sharp, and thick as his thickend finger nails shot out from each vertebra, ripping skin and muscle away. His spine stretched upwards adding to his pain as he grew to 14 feet and still stretching.

His legs began to thicken to support his increasing weight as they too stretched. His knee caps spilt open revealing yet another sharpened peg of bone portruding outwards. The bones crunched and crackled, skin ripped exposing muscle and flesh as the legs spilt from two into four.

Jammie realized her father had gotten to his feet, "I long to be true to Your Word, and pray that You will love me and come to make Your dwelling place within me. I promise to give You praise and glory in love and in service all the days of my life."

Owl's mask snapped, revealing a thick jawed face that was once human. Tusks shot forth from the creatures teeth, its nose began to crawl back wards into its face as cheek bones rose upwards narrowing its now glowing eyes. The hood ripped as the head grew in both size and thickness, stretching upwards and outwards.

Professor Jones turned and hugged his daughter tightly, "Jammie, forgive me. With all my heart I wish there was some other way."

"Some other way for what?" Jammie asked holding father close.

"Iid," The professor called, "Take care of my daughter."

Iid frowned and took Jammie by the shoulder, "Yes, sir."

Her father smiled at her, "I love you, Jammie. With all my heart and my soul I love you, never forget that."

"Why?" Jammie cried, "What are you doing? What are- no."

Professor Jones stumbled towards the ball of purple light.

"No, no, no," Jamie cried, "Iid, Iid, stop him! Iid, please!"

"I can't Jammie," Iid said softly but loud enough to be heard, "The Order of Balance believed that only the pure of heart could stop one of us."

Her father reached out towards the light.

"And your father," Iid told her, "Just made the purest sacrifice for you."

His hand touched the ball.

Call me weak or pathitic, but this was actually a hard thing for me to write...
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defectivevampire Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist

such a beautiful, fitting end, though.
MuteAssassin Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2012
There always has to be one good death that'll upset the people who read. To quote my father, "If you don't upset your fans every once in awhile the stories get stale."

I thought his death would be most fitting, and I'd been toying with two ideas: 1) he dies 2) he lives but permently brain damaged. I decided to kill him off, it has a more powerful feel to it.
defectivevampire Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
yeah, if you just let him live it wouldn't be nearly the same. it would have felt needless almost.
MuteAssassin Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2012
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