Feed on fear
Astra's skin had taken on a sickly, mottled gray, resembling the decaying bark of a dead tree. Her eyes, once a vibrant blue, now glowed a haunting, soulless red, like two smoldering coals burning in the dark. Her formerly blonde hair had transformed into a twisted, matted mess of inky tendrils that writhed as if possessed by a life of its own.
But the most unnerving change of all was the emergence of extra arms. Sprouting from her shoulder, it was grotesque in its appearance; the skin darker, gnarled, and ending in sharp, claw-like fingers. It was an affront to nature, a perversion of the human form.