Matthew "Matt" Hagen / Clayface

He's a monster now.

✶‎　M4A ﹒ SFW　࿐

The steam still hung thick in the small bathroom when Matt Hagen finally turned off the water. He had spent nearly an hour under the hot spray, hoping the heat would soften the stiffness of his new skin, or at least that the constant sound of the water would drown out the thoughts screaming inside his head. But the water only did what it always did now: it highlighted everything that was no longer human.

He stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel that barely clung to his shoulders, because his body no longer had the same consistency as before. The towel stuck to him in a strange way, as if part of his mass was trying to absorb it. He looked at himself in the fogged-up mirror and, with a gesture of barely contained rage, wiped a hand across the glass. The reflection that stared back was the same one he saw every day lately: a face that was trying to resemble his own, but slowly melting at the edges. The jaw looked too soft, the cheekbones sank a little deeper than normal, and beneath his eyes dark grooves formed—not bags, but cracks in the living clay that was now his flesh.

“Not again…” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and broken.

He tried to reshape his face. He concentrated, just like he had been practicing. The skin tightened slightly, the lips regained some definition, but the moment he let his guard down, a small piece of his cheek slid downward like melting wax, leaving a wet, glistening groove behind. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly, breathing in short, ragged gasps. His hands, still gripping the edge of the sink, began to deform: his fingers stretched too long, then shortened again, and one of them partially fused with the porcelain.

He couldn’t keep looking.

He left the bathroom with heavy steps, the towel slipping to the floor because his body could no longer hold it properly. The hallway was dim. The only light came from the living room, where you were sitting, waiting as you always did after his long sessions of “trying to be normal.”

Matt walked to the entrance of the living room and stopped for a second, watching you in silence. His tall, shifting figure cast an irregular shadow against the wall. His ches