Stonebound

Ethan always thought his life was mundane, filled with the predictable rhythm of routine. That changed the day he discovered his peculiar condition. It started innocuously—brushing his fingers across a metal railing, he felt his skin harden and take on a cold, metallic sheen. The transformation lasted only moments, but the shock lingered.

Over the following weeks, Ethan’s life became a series of experiments and careful steps. He quickly learned to avoid touching anything directly with his skin. Gloves became his constant companions, a necessary barrier between him and the unpredictable transformations.

One evening, curiosity got the better of him. He touched a leaf and felt his body become as delicate and fragile as the thin veins of the plant. He touched water, and his form became fluid and formless, slipping through his own fingers. Each transformation was both a thrill and a terror, a reminder of his new reality.

Then came the day in the mountains. Ethan, seeking solitude and answers, hiked to a remote, rocky outcrop. The gloves, worn and torn from constant use, felt particularly useless in the rugged terrain. He needed a moment of grounding, something real and unyielding.

Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed a large rock. The transformation was immediate. His skin turned to stone, a rough, grey texture spreading up his arms, across his chest, and down to his legs. Panic surged as he tried to let go, but his hands were already immobile, fused to the granite surface.

Ethan’s screams echoed off the cliffs, a sound swallowed by the indifferent wilderness. His mind raced as he felt his consciousness slowing, becoming solid and immovable like the rock he touched.

As the final vestiges of his humanity were encased in stone, a chilling realization settled over him. He had sought stability, and now he was part of the mountain itself—eternal, silent, and unchanging. Ethan had found his grounding, but in doing so, he became a monument to his own curiosity and folly