In the dim candle light of her study, Scytik held her breath as she made the last chalk line of the ritual circle. Contacting Abyssal Lords was messy, and precisely imprecise; a heap of trash and broken furniture littered the study and she stood in the center impatiently waiting for whichever chaotic entity might take notice of her.

You... you have... so much...

She was suddenly filled with the sensation of being watched, her anxiety bubbling in her chest.

"So much? Power? I am asking you to speak with me, asking you to make a deal..." She spoke the words in a hoarse whisper, not wanting to wake her family, unsure if she would be heard by whatever was speaking in her mind, "I have studied magics for two decades and still… still I am made a mockery of in the University. Give me strength and I will do whatever you desire."

Strength... yes... you have it in you... I will give you strength...

The words... the images in her mind held such an ominous, slow tone. Unyielding, undying. She already regretted her offer, she supposed people held their cards a bit tighter to their chest when making deals with demons. She did start to feel... something. A calm, a patience. Maybe she had nothing to be worried about, but the burbling in her chest persisted.

So... many... thoughts... Shed... release... So many... worries... Shed... release... So... much... Power...

She began to enter a trance of sorts, her fears and self-conscious thoughts melted away. She could feel her innate arcane power rising to her skin, the way it did when she would touch the weave and conjure the most powerful spells she knew. It came now unbidden, and she was giddy. "Yes, shed, release. I am yours, if this is the power you grant." She could see the light pulsing beneath her veins, and she grinned. The blood bulged, bubbled under her skin.

So much... flesh... shed... Release

A tendril of ichor and blood broke through the flesh in Scytik's palm, sparks arced from the viscous fluid. She could still feel the power, but now it was wrapped in pain. Pinpricks of bright hot pain dotted her entire body as more blood pooled from every pore. Her extremities began to go numb, the nerves burning away with the sheer arcane force. She forced herself to form a thought, forced through the pain to ask, to beg, "Why? Don't kill me!" The words gurgled in her throat as hot bile spilled forth.

No... no kill... never die... Too much power... too much... flesh... use power... shed all flesh.

Scytik closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the pain, trying to will the magic storm that raged without her back into her, trying to hold her skin and hair and bones together. For a moment she was aware of the room, as if looking from outside herself. Huge bulbous blisters covered her body, distorting her features, she did not recognize what she saw as human. More blood than could have possibly been inside of her oozed and pooled in the wooden floor boards of her cluttered study. At some point the pain subsided, but a pressure filled her. She tried to open her eyes, willing all of the past few months to be a dream.

Scytik burst. Emulsified bone and gore splattered the walls. Blue sparks arced between the rivulets of ichor and blood.

Yes... now... shed... their... flesh...

The words came to a disembodied consciousness, as what once was Scytik the Wizard, the human, the wife, the mother, began to coalesce and move with purpose. They now knew what entity they had reached, Juiblex, the Demon Lord of Ooze and Slime. Their patient power knew only the bounds of flesh. All of which would be dissolved... in time.

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A large scale mini of Juiblex, tendrils of slime covered in eyes and teeth. Perfect for DnD or whatever table top horror game you have in mind.