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Every Lunar New Year, the quiet countryside village shuddered under the weight of its cursed tradition. The villagers rarely spoke of it aloud, but everyone knew: one man would be chosen to serve the temple. One man would vanish overnight, his body twisted and transformed into something unrecognizable, leaving the village until the next year’s ritual. The Rubber Shrine, they called it, stood at the edge of the forest, shrouded in mist. Its blackened latex walls gleamed in the moonlight, pulsating faintly as though alive. Legends said the shrine was a portal to another world—a place where the Zodiac God demanded its servants. And this year, the animal was the Snake. This year’s chosen was Bao, a reserved young man with sharp features and a quiet temper. He was a simple farmer, known for his temper and strong-willed nature. When the village elder handed him the ceremonial red silk robe, his heart sank, but he didn’t resist. Resistance was futile—no one ever refused. The villagers avoided his gaze as he was led to the shrine under the dim glow of lanterns. That night, the ritual room in the Rubber Shrine was eerily silent, save for the faint squeak of latex as Bao stepped across the polished black floor. He was dressed in a ceremonial loincloth, his bare skin already beginning to glisten with the slick, rubbery essence that oozed from the shrine’s walls. Candles flickered, their light casting shifting, serpentine shadows that seemed almost alive. At the center was a circular ritual platform with intricate zodiac carvings, each shimmering as if alive. This year’s animal, the snake, glowed with an ominous green hue. Bao stepped forward hesitantly, the door slamming shut behind him. Bao approached cautiously, feeling an unnatural heat radiating from the symbol. As he knelt, the sigil flared brightly, blinding him for a moment. When he opened his eyes, a thick, black goo was dripping from the ceiling, falling onto his skin in heavy, viscous globs. It began. The goo clung to his body, spreading rapidly, encasing his legs first. He gasped as his muscles seized, his thighs pressing together until they fused into one long, sleek form. His skin tingled, then burned, as the rubber reshaped him. Bao’s legs elongated unnaturally, their bones dissolving into flexible, serpentine muscle. The transformation spread upward, his abdomen tightening, swelling with impossible strength until it resembled the coiled body of a naga. His chest heaved, each breath filling his lungs with the acrid scent of latex. His arms were the last to be consumed, the goo slithering up his biceps, encasing his hands in smooth, glistening black rubber. His fingers flexed, their tips sharp and claw-like. He raised one hand to his face as the transformation reached his head, his reflection shimmering in the altar's surface. The last thing Bao saw of his human form was his own wide, terrified eyes before the goo enveloped his head entirely.
