48 - 21 - Own Creation

What morphs did I have?

Birds. Fish. Mammals.

Nothing that would do me any good!

I needed to be a plant. No orifices. Something huge and hungry and dangerous.

Suddenly, I felt myself melting. Like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz.

Or maybe - withering. Like a tree starved for water.

Was I dying? Was this what death felt like?

My fingers lost their sensation. Human sensory ability - just gone.

Instead, they grew rubbery and ultraflexible. Not numb but - impervious to pain, to pleasure.

My lungs ceased to burn for air.

My legs! They were fusing. Braiding together at the hip. Where my feet had been, stretching out like tentacles!

Or like vines or branches . . .

Suddenly, I realized what was happening.

I wasn't dying.

I was being born.

I was becoming a living being that didn't even exist on this planet!

That I'd only imagined!

That I'd conjured into being with the force of my will!

I was morphing into something my DNA bank had absolutely nothing to do with.

A killer, carnivorous plantlike thing of my very own creation.

The red goo was no threat now. It couldn't choke or strangle me. I felt no need for air.

But I did feel hunger. And the goo looked delicious.

I bent my head, now a huge, green, veiny pod. It opened up like a flower unfolding, and a long proboscis shot out. Like the sucking organ of a giant butterfly.

I dipped it into the goo and began to drink.

The goo pulled away, startled and frightened. Began to slide across the room.

I chased it! Determined to eat it.

I approached on my magically gliding, trunk-like stem.

Thrust forward my pod-like head.

Close! Almost!

And then the goo began to morph. And in what seemed like only seconds, I found myself facing Visser One's stolen Andalite form again.