When Jon reached the bottom of the stairs, he almost ran into Zoe who was headed up.
"Get outta my way, you freak!" she yelled.
Jon gasped. She was a freak. Long, curved horns protruded from her forehead. Pointed ears protruded through her dyed black hair. Her hands were claws. Her legs were shaped like a goat's, with specially shaped shoes covering her hooves. A tail pointed accusingly at Jon.
"What're you staring at!?" snarled Zoe. She stuck out a long pointed tongue.
"Uh, never mind." Jon got out of her way. If that's what Goths look like in this new world, thought Jon, what does everyone else do with their bodies?
He noticed a few new books on the shelves around the living room TV. Formed to Perfection. The Art of Self-Sculpture. Fun with Flesh. They looked old. Must belong to my parents, thought Jon. When I said "people," I didn't realize that they'd be affected too."
Jon walked into the kitchen, where he saw his mother. "Mom!? You --" He would have never guessed what she had done to herself.
