"That was his wish?" she asks, her tone dripping sarcasm. "To be a stupid dragon? He didn't even look like a dragon. What-"

Innkeeper begins to move down the corridor without her. In three long strides she catches up, watching as the Innkeeper pulls a pack of bubblegum from its coat pocket. Holding out its arm, the Innkeeper offers the packet to Victoria then fixes her with a piercing gaze.

"What is a dragon supposed to look like?"

Victoria fumbles the gum, nearly dropping it.

"I... they're supposed to be...”

"How big should a dragon be? Should they breathe fire? Can they really fly? How powerful is a God?”

Victoria's shoulders droop with the gravity of the situation and stares at the floor. She watches her feet, bare and elongated, cat-like, as she follows the Innkeeper. They soon stop at another door. The Innkeeper places a hand on the knob and pulls the door slowly open.

Victoria raises her eyes from the strip of gum in her hands and then surges backward, flinging the entire packet. Her nose wrinkles and forces down the edges of her mouth as she tries to control the sudder feeling of nausea. In the center of the otherwise empty flagstone room is a mass of writhing flesh. Its colors and shape change constantly from blue to green, from gold to bronze, from ochre to white with blue veins. Fur changes to scale, skin to feather, patches of uncovered muscle and tendons writhe over continuously shifting clusters of ligaments, fat, and bone. Limbs protrude at random from the mass, continuously being sucked back in after a few seconds as new ones balloon out. Digit-grade legs with paws and hooves, long tentacles that split apart to reveal a mass of partially formed hands inside; a large pustule containing a writhing human arm quickly changes into a horse's skull with eyes dangling from the sockets on purple cords of nerve. The mass shudders and groans in myriads of voices as it thrashes about on the floor.

Mouths form in various places - with or without tongues - gnashing rows and rows of mismatched teeth. Sounds pour forth from each orifice as it appears, screams and yells, bellows and screeches, before the opening closes again, giving the creature's sounds a horrific echoing effect. Every few seconds a sound seems vaguely recognizable, as though the mass is attempting to speak.

Victoria scrambles away from the entrance as the Innkeeper steps back out of the room and closes the door. Victoria stares at the Innkeeper in mute horror, awaiting an explanation.

"That was a man named Don Beckett. He wished to be what he called a shape-shifter."

Victoria stares back at the closed door, eyes wide, The Innkeeper sighs sadly, rolling its shoulders forward slightly as it bends to retrieve the gum that Victoria has dropped.

"He never considered specifications. You have to; the wishes can not make themselves. Could he control the changing? How often would it happen if not? Would his mind shift with it or change to the mind of what he was changing into? All of these were questions that were left unaddressed... and some things had to be assumed."

Victoria's mouth is set into a tight, grim line. She stands as the Innkeeper offers its hand again.

"Why are you showing me this?"

The Innkeeper pauses, looking at her over its shoulder.

"You seem unsure in your desire for your wish. There are many whom I have turned away because of their indecisiveness. There are many I have turned away who have been glad of it; there are some who have cursed me for doing so. You may be one of them, you may want to stay. That isn’t up to me, but if you are questioning the logic of your choice, then I am only too glad to assist you.”

Victoria nods stiffly and follows the Innkeeper back to the staircase.