I was awakened by a loud sound. I flinched, only to realize I wasn't being held by the goat-headed beast man. Instead, I seemed to be resting on a straw bed. But before I could pay too much attention to my straw bed, a sound next to me grabbed my attention.
I tried to turn my head, though something seemed to stop my head from turning properly. I reached up clumsily, but as my hands reached out to search for the obstruction, my hands wrapped around something long and hard that seemed to turn and twist in all sorts of ways. It didn't take much time for me to realize that they were horns.
"OK, this is fine," I repeated the thought in an attempt to not panic.
My hands traveled down, searching for other changes. And to my continuing horror, I realized the changes were more drastic than I had realized. As my hands continued to feel over my new face, I realized it was definitely not human. My face seemed to be longer—stretched, even. If I had to describe it, it felt like a bull's or a horse's head.
I now better understood why the man I had first seen had reacted the way he did, not that I agreed with his choice.
But before I could fall further into despair, a sound drew me out of my self-loathing. I turned more carefully, keeping my horns in mind. To any outsider, the movement would still be clumsy and uncoordinated.
What greeted me was more or less what I was expecting: a baby with the head of a goat, small nubs that could only be horns. The sight didn't settle any of my worries, but it did give me a better idea of how I might look.
I looked around the room the best I could, hoping to gather any information about what this place was. By what I could hear and see, this must be some sort of nursery. The many sounds of crying children—at least that's what I think they were—sounded more like animals than humans. I might as well have been in a crowded barn, and I wouldn't have questioned it, given everything that had happened.
I had no time to continue that line of thought as I heard footsteps.
I waited, for lack of anything better to do, though I soon regretted my curiosity when I felt a pressure push down on me. Seconds later, a beast man walked in front of me, though this one was different.
The thing was tall—taller than the beast man that had brought me here. Where they differed was clear at a glance. This one was thin—dangerously thin. If it were not standing, I would have thought it had died of starvation. In contrast, the beast man who had carried me here had been well-muscled, powerful in a way that spoke of hard labor or violence.
The moment it turned, everything froze.
I felt fear—fear unlike any other. I heard voices, some screaming for blood, others whispering words that sounded as sweet as poison. I watched as its horned head turned away. I thanked any god, thing, or creature when those red, hateful eyes turned from me. A relieved breath escaped me as the voices faded away.
I felt my body grow heavy again, as if the unnatural experience had stripped me of all my strength. Soon I was sent into the void of unconsciousness, echoes of the voices still haunting me, twisting my every dream into a nightmare.
When I next woke, it was not peaceful. I was dragged back into consciousness, and the nightmare seemed determined to pull me back into its clutches. But when I felt its last tendril leave me, I felt free—as if I had finally escaped hell itself.
Though if asked, I would not be able to explain it. All that was left was a haze. But what I did know was that I would never want to go back there again.