Katie was trembling. Her bizzarre transformation finally ended, and she gathered all of her courage to look at a mirror. If she could part her oddly purple lips, a sigh of relief would have sweetened her pain. Her face was stll pretty, even prettier than usual, but a membrane of flesh prevented her to smile, talk, eat, or doing anything a mouth would require. Mumbling and moaning, she ran out into the night. She was a Little Miss Perfect, spoiled and backed up by poppa’s money, so she remembered the exotic maiden at the shop. She ran in her car, as fast as she can.
She wanted to confront the woman, make her pay and suffer for her strange condition. Katie wasn’t an imaginative lady. If she was, she would have thought that the exotic shopkeeper was a witch, with eldritch powers to not mess with. But Katie was essentially a petty tramp at heart, and she thought fairytales were essentially something useless.
She stormed in the boutique, grunting and moaning, pointing her useless mouth with broad gestures…