Another fun TF that I very much enjoyed writing! And you know what they say, 'music makes you lose control'

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18) 'Music’

You had been wandering the bustling streets of the town, going about your business while shopping for clothes and supplies, maybe a bite to eat too. A pretty standard and ordinary day all things considered. But as you sat down at the Cafe, enjoying a fresh sandwich and drink, the ethereal and soothing sound of a wind instrument filled the air. It danced in the air, filling the area with beautiful melodies. It was truly a pleasant experience.

Even after finishing your meal, it continued, beautiful, enrapturing, beckoning. And though pulled by a magnet, you followed, seeking to find the one responsible for this work of art, following it through the winding alleyways and busy streets, soon finding the one responsible. A busker sitting on a mat, playing a pungi, not even looking up as your feet carried you towards him

The closer you approached, the more the music's hold on you grew, binding you like invisible chains as your steps slowed, falling into a lethargic rhythm, until finally collapsing onto your knees before them, following the pungi with your gaze as, unbeknownst to you, your skin began to flake, shedding off your body to reveal vibrant copper scales underneath, as your torso slowly began to lengthen and thin, new vertebra popping into existence as scales washed across every inch of your body, tightening it into a cylindrical shape. Your legs, numb and lifeless, began to gravitate together beneath you, fusing together into one as the scales stitched them together, before stretching out, pulled like taffy as they lost their original shape, slowly drawn out into a thin triangular point. An elegant serpentine tail that twisted and wound, curling up beneath you to support your lengthening body as any thoughts to escape or flee were carried away by the ethereal notes of the pungi.

Your body was unable to resist the rhythmic tunes, slowly beginning to sway and wind back and forth to the music as your gaze followed the tip of the instrument, everything else seeming to fade into the background as your serpentine body danced to the music, not even the sensation of your arms slowly shrivelling into nothingness as the scales marched up your neck, which grew in size and length, your body just a single long and scaly tube now, indistinguishable from that of a snake as it twisted and slithered back and forth at the whims of the player, a forked tongue briefly flicking out from your cracking lips to taste the air, unaware, or uncaring of the itching at the back of your head. All that mattered was the beautiful music.

You danced, swaying up and down, back and forth, just as much a part of the performance as the music that filled your mind, your head continuing to follow the tip of the pungi, reptilian eyes watching it unblinking, never leaving its enrapturing appearance, even as your hair fell out, ears sinking back into your head, now just two slight holes, nor the aching in your skull as it flattened and elongated out into a triangular shape, new long, pointed fangs forcing their way out from under your scaly lip, venom filling their interiors. But no, you had no intention of using such things. Of biting the one that played such beautiful music, who held the instrument before you, your master.

As a new tune picked up, you adjusted the rhythm of your swaying to follow, stretching your body more to continue to stay level with the instrument, even as you slowly began to shrink into a more manageable size, your once discarded clothes melding together, stiffening into woven strands of reeds, forming a circle beneath your twisting body, and raising up, forming a shell around you, no, a basket. Your home.

Spectators came and went, listening to the Snake Charmer's music and the dancing serpents accompanying it, leaving behind strange pieces of metal and paper in an empty basket. You never understood why they did such things. But eventually, the music slowed to a crawl as they lowered their pungi, ending today's dance. The lid of your basket returned, as you soon found yourself slipping into a deep slumber, until it was time for you to perform once more