Violent

“You never cease to amaze me,” Olivia smirks as she corners an skinny, frail hoodlum in the middle of the hollow streets of parabola.

“I swear, lady,” the strange figure said. “You got the wrong guy.”

“Oh please, if you’re going to lie about stealing from the human world, at least put some effort behind it.”

Before the frightful hooligan could answers, a strange blue scripture began to crawl around his skin.

“I told you already. That gold is mine. Mine, mine,”

Olivia pulled out a handful of gold and waved it ten facts from the thief.

“Silly how you think taking stuff that’s not your automatically makes it your.”

The uncanny scribbles began to spread even further around the thief’s body face. In time, the cornered assistant curled his body as it to confront an internal pain.

“Crap, I know what those markings mean.”

The thief’s body slowly began to grew three times his on size as he transformed into a muscle bound grey skinned behemoth with knobs sprouting out on his neck and his back.