Of all of the good things in Charlene's life, none were as enjoyable as Spirit. Nothing else could come close to her constant torment of the girl, a symphony of insults and harassment that were some of Charlene's brightest memories.

In truth, she didn't know why she did it. Perhaps it was because she took the girl's name as a challenge, something to break. Perhaps it was because Charlene was secretly a sadist, and Spirit was the easiest girl to torment. Or perhaps it was simply because Charlene was bored, and the timid girl was the easiest target in the office.

Whatever the reason, Charlene practically skipped into work on Monday, in defiance of the dismal attitude that typically followed the end of a weekend. Her stride slowed as she noticed a somber air in the building, and she looked around to see everyone in the office was frowning.

Her boss, Bradley, was the first to approach her, a frown on his face and worry in his eyes. "Charlene! It's good to see you." He announced, an odd greeting that triggered her curiosity.

"You're saying that like you weren't expecting to." Charlene chuckled anxiously, her heart beginning to race as she saw several police officers in her boss's office. One of them noticed her as well, beginning to approach her to her immense displeasure.

"Yes, well... I really wasn't." Bradley stepped to the side, allowing the officer to fill the space he'd vacated. "I believe Officer Sherman can explain why."

"Miss, what do you know about Spirit DeGracia?" The police officer asked, not missing a beat before interrogating Charlene.

She smiled anxiously and tilted her head. "W-what do you mean? I think she's one of our recent hires. Is there something wrong with her?" The woman put on a feigned concern, praying that the woman hadn't called the police on one of her more extreme pranks.

"She's dead." The man said gruffly, looking down to his notebook. "Suicide." He added the next word as an afterthought, before sliding his eyes up to meet Charlene's. "Her suicide note mentioned you."

Charlene blinked and gaped in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hold on! I don't know what you're getting at here, but I never bullied her that much! Besides, Sally and Taniqua made fun of her just as much as I did, if not more so!" Charlene hurriedly name-dropped her cronies, hoping she wouldn't go down alone.

"That's irrelevant." Officer Sherman spoke, in two words deflating her faint hope that she might escape judgment. Then he spoke again, his next statement sending a very different kind of dread through the woman. "Spirit's suicide note also mentioned them. This is why I'm here. Both of them are missing."

"M-missing?" Charlene asked, her eyes wide. "That can't be, I just talked to them last night!"

At that, the cop visibly started, his eyebrows shooting up as he flipped through his notebook. "Hold on, are you sure about that?" He asked, an entirely different being from just a few moments ago. Earlier he'd seemed in control; composed. Now; however, he seemed confused and almost paranoid.

"Yes, we Skyped before bed; our usual pre-workweek thing." Charlene's head swam as she tried to get a grip on what was happening. "Did... Did Spirit do something to them?"

Officer Sherman's lips quirked into something between a frown and a look of confusion. "That's what we'd thought... But the ME's report puts Spirit's death at around three o'clock on Saturday morning." He looked down to his notebook; then up to Charlene once more. "Her suicide note mentioned that her death was only the beginning... And the note was written in her own blood."

Charlene realized the odd look in Officer Sherman's eyes was fear, and she couldn't help but chuckle nervously. "H-hold on... You don't really believe that, do you?"

The man chuckled anxiously and shrugged. "It's my job to tell you that I don't; but honestly? Spirit DeGracia had no friends; no recent calls or emails; nobody who'd help her with the disappearance of your friends. So either there's something we've missed; or..."

Bradley cut in before Charlene could properly react to the man's words. "We'd like you to take the rest of the day off. Officer Sherman has offered to put a protective detail outside of your home until we can find Sally and Taniqua. I'm sure they're okay."

While the last sentence smacked of insincerity, the first and second were enough to somewhat calm Charlene's nerves. "O-okay." She stammered at length, nodding slowly.

Not once in the woman's life had she ever thought that she'd be leading police officers to her house, but that black-and-white cruiser followed her all the way to her house, parking behind her sedan with a faint creak of breaks.

Charlene gave an anxious smile and wave to the officers, only to realize they weren't going to follow her in. She didn't know why she'd half-expected them to stand guard outside her door, but it made sense; them following her would probably be some violation of her rights.

That said, she might just invite them in if her day got any weirder. The brunette chuckled anxiously as she unlocked the door to her house, swinging it open with a worried smile. Nothing seemed out of place, so she stepped in and locked the door firmly behind her.

Then she thought better of it, leaving the door unlatched instead. Nobody was getting in that way without passing through two armed police officers. And if someone was in her house, then Charlene wanted those two officers to be able to come to her rescue as soon as possible.

She stepped into her bedroom slowly, checking the room for... For what? Monsters? She chuckled nervously at how paranoid she was being, only to yelp in surprise at a strange sound.

Tik-tik-tik.

It came from her window, a slow and almost deliberate tapping.

Tik-tik-tik.

The woman's heart pounded in her chest as she walked to the window, her pupils dilated with fear as she crept to the sill. Despite all of her fear, she couldn't help but look out from the window, half-expecting to see some undead ghoul.

Instead, she was greeted with the sight of the small tree that she'd planted a few years ago. She chuckled; then began to laugh, relief flooding her form. She fell onto her bed, peals of hysterical laughter escaping her mouth. What was she thinking?

Tik-tik-tik.

Another tap at her window, and Charlene paused. Her laughter slowed as she remembered how she'd gotten the tree in the first place, a gift from Sally. She hoped the girl was okay... Taniqua too, for that matter. She sighed and leaned back against her pillow, quietly beginning to pray that her friends weren't dead.

Tik-tik-tik.

This time, the sound came from her mirror.

All of the terror that Charlene had put to the back of her mind began to swim back into her thoughts, and her eyes snapped open as adrenaline rushed through her veins. She hurriedly leaned forward, looking at her own startled reflection and giggling at the sight of her own frightened face.

Honestly, what was she doing? She'd let that cop rile her up, and-

Her reflection brought its hand up, and rapped at the mirror.

Tik-tik-tik.

Charlene screamed. Her pupils dilated and she began to scrabble at the bed as her reflection smiled, its visage flowing until it bore the face of a very, familiar blond.

Hello, Charlene.

The words flowed into her mind like water, leaving an unnatural clamminess along the back of her neck as she tried to run for the door.

The ghostly image slipped from the silver of her mirror, blocking her progress. "Aw, where are you going, honey?" Spirit cooed mockingly, only to laugh a second later as Charlene gawped at her in disbelief.

The police had said the woman was dead, and yet her she was: standing before Charlene without a care in the world.

"Y-you're supposed to be dead!" Charlene stammered, her eyes wide in horror.

"Oh, I am." Spirit laughed, light beginning to shine through her body as she shifted to something incorporeal. I suppose that's a little hard for you to understand; though, isn't it?

Charlene shuddered as that ethereal voice slipped into her head again, and she stumbled back from the apparition onto her bed. "H-how is this possible? What do you want with me?" She held out a hand as if it would somehow forestall the vengeful ghost.

I'm glad you asked. You see, as it turns out, there really is only one God in the afterlife. But he's not the only power out there. Spirit's body strode towards Charlene, her intangible footsteps silent against the wood of Charlene's floor. I just happened to find someone who worked for me. And as for your second question... I'm here for revenge.

With that, the spirit swiped her hand through Charlene's outstretched palm. The effects were as immediate as they were total. A painful, nerve-wracking cramp shot a bright lance of pain straight into Charlene's brain, and she yelped as her hand balled up into a fist.

She cupped it in her other hand and looked down to her hand with worry, only for her eyes to widen at the sight of her skin coloring. As the hot pain in her hand rose to new and unbearable heights, her flesh darkened and hardened until it almost looked like a hoof: an ungainly, cloven thing that wouldn't be out of place on a goat or a sheep.

Charlene screamed louder, flailing the strange thing attached to her wrist and smacking it against her table with a loud thump. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked back up to Spirit, finding the blond's eyes were burning with a strange blue energy.

You know, that's the same look that Sally and Taniqua gave me. Spirit spoke, her hands slipping down to pass through Charlene's feet next.

The woman screamed and bent down instinctively to grip at her ailing appendages, even as a pair of hooves burst through her shoes. The pose left her vulnerable, and Spirit passed her hands along Charlene's other hand an instant later.

The apparition's smile widened as Charlene screamed even louder, tears slipping from the woman's eyes at the pain that was filling her body. All of the nerves in her fingers were on fire, mystical energy burning them down as they became the hard enamel of hooves.

"Wh-wh-WHY?" Charlene shrieked, her cheeks wet with distress. Then she thought better, her eyes flitting to the door to her house. "HELP! HELP!!!" She screamed, hoping that some of the police would hear.

Spirit only laughed at that, the sound oddly musical despite its ghostly nature. Aw, poor little Charlene. Remember when you trapped me in that soundproof booth for a weekend? Well, it's the same principle here.

Charlene's hooves thumped against the bed as she scrabbled to her feet, only to wobble and fall face-first onto her cushions. It was harder to stand on the odd things than it was to stand on her own two feet; no doubt thanks to their new size and lack of toes alike.

She hiccuped a loud sob as she looked to the ungainly hooves that now marked the ends of her arms and legs. She was a freak now; and yet something in her heart told her that this wasn't even close to the end of her changes.

Sure enough, Spirit passed her hands through Charlene's hips and shoulders next; laughing as the woman screamed.

Loud pops filled the air as bones shattered and reformed, blinding agony leaving Charlene an incoherent mess as her body realigned itself to a four-footed posture. She wanted to believe that this was all a nightmare; wanted it more than anything. But the loud cracks and pops of her bones were too much to deny; as was the shooting pain that coursed along her whole form.

The woman looked up to Spirit pleadingly, choking as the girl trailed her fingers gingerly all along Charlene's face; only to bring her hands down to the woman's neck. The cold digits sent a chill through the woman as she felt them pass through her skin; then the pain renewed.

"AAAAIEEEEE!!! PLEASE, STA-AH-AHP!" A hitch formed in Charlene's voice as her wails grew louder, her skin itching as though she'd been bitten by billions of ants. Hair forced itself from her pores, a thick and white coat covering every inch of skin that Spirit had touched.

Her neck snapped and popped as it lengthened, and her throat tingled as thick mucus clogged her esophagus. A sharp, fresh level of hell forced its way through the woman's face as her nose and mouth began to extend into a blunt snout, and she choked out another scream, only to cough as the mucus in her throat thickened.

Instinctively, the woman spat a thick gobbet of it out, her cheeks burning with humiliation even as bushy, white fur covered them as well. The mucus clattered at it hit the floor, and Charlene's eyes widened as she caught sight of teeth scattered in with the spit, everything from her incisors to her canines.

Stunned, she ran a bloating tongue along her gums, only to chokingly yelp in distress at the feeling of new and broad blocky teeth filling her mouth. Pain tore through her ears as they were yanked to the top of her head, deforming to have pointed tips that constantly twitched.

Charlene's mouth opened and closed wordlessly as her lips grew thick and camelid, and she dug her hooves into the bed, her mind still utterly lost. She didn't know if she should beg for mercy; scream more for help; or try and run. Worse yet, she couldn't shake the thought that every possible solution her mind could come up with would only be met with tears.

Spirit, on the other hand, was at no such loss for words. God, you look so stupid right now. You should see your freakish muzzle, or how thick and furry you are. So much for being 'the pretty one'. Her every word was laced with a mocking condescension, and her mirth was plain on her face.

"Yeh-eh-oo mahw-ah-ahnst-eh-eh-ehrrr!" Charlene managed at length, her pretty brown hair falling out as new curly white hair covered her scalp. Her neck ached as it grew longer still, and her eyes screamed with pain as they slid to the sides of her head.

I would disagree, but lying's not in my nature. That said, it certainly takes one to know one. Spirit chuckled insultingly as she groped Charlene's breasts, rubbing the woman's belly and passing her hands throughout the woman's upper body.

It was like all of Charlene's organs were cramping at once, full of agony as they expanded and reformed in her chest, a chest that was barreling out into an animal's trunk. Her ribs snapped and popped almost in time with her back, both of them expanding thanks to the same terrible transformation, tearing her clothing to bits in the process.

"AH-AH-AHHH! THE PAINEH-EH-EHHH!" The ailing woman bleated through her screams, even her voice betraying the utter inevitability of her changes. She shrieked as her breasts merged into an udder, its hefty mass drifting between her legs. She sobbed as the curve of her spine straightened. She howled as her lungs violently expanded, filling as if to allow her to scream even louder.

You know, I didn't have this luxury when working on your little stooges. Spirit cooed, stalking through Charlene's bed to swipe her hands through the woman's hindquarters. I had to make them into simple things: a dog and a cat, so that the police wouldn't get suspicious. But you... You I get to make into something special; into center stage at the petting zoo so that every attendee can see your shame.

Charlene hiccupped and sobbed as she felt her ass expand, her vagina darkening even as fur its way past her neck, coating her like a wool carpet. She stomped her legs in vain, only to start at the sensation of a tail cracking out from herbackside, spiking a lance of pain through her ass as though she'd been shot.

The transforming woman choked out another gobbet of mucus, spitting it wetly onto the floor and looking to Spirit pleadingly. "AH-AH-AH-AHHH!" She exclaimed, a camelid cry erupting from her throat. The loss of her voice brought with it a renewed wave of sobbing, such despair filling her heart that she barely noticed Spirit passing her hands through her unchanged arms and legs, transforming the last human things about her form.

Of course, I couldn't just make you into a sheep; that would be too easy. No, I think I'll make you a dopey-looking llama that can't help but hock up phlegm like a sideshow freak. A 'sideshow freak'; isn't that funny? I recall you used to call me that, just less than a week ago. Spirit's voice was tinged with victory; though in truth, Charlene barely heard her.

The former brunette was too distracted by the pain in her limbs to notice anything else, and she let out bleating screech after screech as her bones snapped and cracked, as though they were being broken and set; broken and set. When the process finally came to an end, she found herself sitting on a set of fuzzy llama legs, and she knew that her body was lost.

Oh, and of course there's one last thing. Spirit chuckled, trailing her hands along Charlene's scalp.

Charlene wondered what her tormentor was doing, only to find her body instinctively rising, clopping down from the bed; then turning and beginning to chew at the covers. Despair marred her heart, and she chomped at her down blankets hungrily. This was it; then. This was her death; the loss of her mind and perhaps even her soul.

Then, to her surprise, Spirit snatched her hands away; a teasing smile on the apparition's face. Done. She crooned with a cackle. Oh, I gave your flunkies the full mental makeover; don't you worry. But you? I think I'll like you more as a prisoner in your own body, free to forever contemplate the consequences of your actions. Well; not forever, but you get the picture. For the rest of your llama life.

Charlene looked to Spirit pleadingly as the ghost strode back onto the floor, solidifying and frightening her llama brain into letting out a loud bleat of fear. The woman winked and smiled at the llama, then screamed. "OH GOD, HELP!"

The voice that left her lips was Charlene's, and in seconds, the front door to her house was smashed open. The police were indeed fast, but Spirit was that much faster, simply walking into the mirror once more as Charlene the llama looked to her bedroom's doorway in surprise.

One of her two protective officers kicked open the door to her room, gun raised; only to lower it in shock at the grazing animal that was frozen like a deer in the headlights.

Charlene wanted to tell him what had happened; wanted to beg him to understand that she wasn't always like this. Instead, she could only chew on her covers dumbly; then spit onto the floor.

The policeman slowly lifted one hand to his radio, lowering his gun as he spoke. "This is Ratchell... I'm not sure you're going to believe what I'm about to report."

Charlene watched in horror as the man detailed a report to animal services, and she began to pray to anyone she thought might hear her pleas.

Tik-tik-tik.

The slight sound brought her attention to the mirror, and Charlene watched as Spirit, now just a reflection, simply smiled and waved, before fading from the silver altogether. With a silent scream of horror, Charlene realized she was truly damned; and she began to sink into despair.

It was a despair that remained with her through her capture well into her internment at a nearby carnival. There, she was forced to eat hard kibble, grass, and slop-all while seeing and smelling the food she had once been able to eat as a human.

While she'd never been the largest fan of funnel cakes and corn dogs, after a year as a llama, the woman wanted nothing more than to have a feast of the fried foods. Sometimes people would throw her crumbs, and on even fewer occasions her llama brain would consider them appetizing enough to eat.

That was the worst part of it all: despite her life as an animal, Charlene was only an observer in her own body. She had no control over the horror that was her life; over the shame that came with her camelid body's brazen behavior.

Her only solace fell to her prayers, a constant stream of pleas. At first, they were for a reversal to her curse. Then, they shifted to a desire for death. But now, after a year as an animal, with decades more in sight? Now all Charlene prayed for was the sweet release of an ever-encroaching insanity.