Oops i summoned a metamo.., p.1
Oops! I Summoned a Metamorphic Monster, page 1
Oops! I Summoned a
Metamorphic Monster
Witches Love Monsters
Anthology
Opal Reyne
Copyright © 2026 by Opal Reyne
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-7643370-1-4
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No AI was used in any part of the creation of this book. The author also doesn’t give permission for anyone to upload their books, covers, or commissioned art to AI training sites.
Cover art: Morgan Lee
Editing/Proofreader: Messenger’s Memos
Author’s note on language
I’m from AUSTRALIA.
My English is not the same as American English.
I love my American English spoken readers to bits. You’re cute, you all make me giggle, and I just wanna give you a big ol’ hug. However, there are many of you who don’t seem to realise that your English was born from British English, which is what I use (although a bastardised version since Australians like to take all language and strangle it until it’s a ruined carcass of slang, missing letters, and randomly added o’s).
We don’t seem to like the letter z.
We write colour instead of color. Recognise instead of recognize. Travelling instead of traveling. Skilful instead of skillful. Mum instead of mom. Smelt is a past participle of smell. We omit the full-stop in Mr. Name, so it’s Mr Name. Aussies cradle the word cunt like it’s a sweet little puppy, rather than an insult to be launched at your face.
Anyway, happy reading!
Trigger Warning
Major spoiler below
Please only read further if you have triggers, otherwise you will seriously spoil the book for yourself.
Firstly, I will list what triggers AREN’T in the book so you can stop reading in order not to spoil it: No pregnancy, breeding, or anything involving babies. No rape, noncon, or dubcon. No harm done between the characters, torture, physical abuse, cheating, suicide, abortion, incest, drug/alcohol abuse, ow drama, or child harm. No character death. No grieving, loss, or depression.
Please consider stopping here if your trigger has been detailed above as the rest are major spoilers.
Stalker(not the fun kind).
Tentacles. Lots and lots of tentacles. They’re everywhere, going in every hole.
Anal, due to said tentacles going everywhere.
Slight gore due to a witch summoning ritual.
Om drama, but he’s super nice and it all works out!
Other than that, the book is pretty fluffy!
To my witchy monsterfuckers,
I give you horny tentacle hentai meets cute goth witch.
Don’t worry, Mr Tentacles will get a pretty face by the end, but only after some much needed glowing tentacle love.
Enjoy the depravity! Hehe.
Chapter
One
There was just something about the smell of coffee that was inviting. It was like a fragrant lie to those who found it bitter; the scent was sweet, warm, and welcoming.
It filled the shop constantly from all the steaming-hot cups being supplied to those who were caffeine dependent or who had soulless, tired eyes. With each drink came the melody of clinking from cups landing on plates and spoons tapping against glass or ceramic rims as patrons swirled their roasted bean water.
Over the speakers, a randomised playlist produced cappella remixes of Skylar’s favourite bands. Most wouldn’t notice they were renditions of heavy metal songs, not with their gentle notes and beautiful, lyrical displays of wonderment that sang like emotional angels in one’s ears.
The music was quiet, designed to hide the bustling noise of chatter, footsteps, and the cars outside, without being overbearing and distracting for those lost to the pages of a book.
Fake vines on the wall to her left hid the black bumpy cement, and the green RBG lights along the ceiling trim gave it a more mystical vibe. There were more potted plants littered around the café, each one fake, as Skylar wouldn’t let living ones suffer under her whims of never remembering to water the fucking things.
Next to the vines was a hallway that led to the bathroom, a small courtyard for customers to sit in the sun, a walk-in storage cupboard, and a small kitchen that provided food all day. The last one was Hank’s dominion, and it wasn’t safe for other employees unless they wanted a good metaphorical spanking. And not the fun kind.
The wall behind her was painted with a dark, smoky background to offset the images of floating books sparkling with magic frozen in motion. At the bottom, along a counter filled with squirt bottles of different flavourings and containers of sugar, napkins, cups, and spoons, stacks of books had been painted with glass tubes, beakers, and other alchemy-related depictions. Above all of this was a long sign that showed everything they had for sale, ranging from coffee, tea, smoothies, and food.
To her right, a large window allowed in muted light with the building’s awning blocking out the sun most hours of the day. The seating up against it was often people’s favourite place to read or people watch.
Then finally, and most importantly, before her on the other side of the café were shelves upon shelves of books – each one hand-picked by Skylar and anyone who worked with her.
The entire café was monitored by security cameras, all with audio recording, which ensured anyone who tried to steal a book was caught, and any abuse was handled immediately. All employees stepped in to protect patrons who simply wanted to be left alone, and they were quick to make unruly people leave.
It was a simple, quiet environment.
It was a place for readers to pick a book of their own choice or pick the week’s top reads selected by the employees. And it was also a regular meet-up spot for those who usually had an isolated hobby. Many had made friends here by gushing over similar tastes in books, often bringing their own literature to read around like-minded individuals.
It didn’t matter if their tastes were all different, although Skylar preferred stories of the alien, monster, and paranormal smutty variety.
The front door opened, and the busy street of Newtown, a suburb within Sydney, Australia, blared boisterously. The tranquillity was stolen momentarily when some rude asshat beeped their horn right next to the door at the worst time possible, causing many patrons to lift their heads with annoyed frowns.
Wiping down the coffee machine’s milk-frothing nozzle with a damp cloth, Skylar noted the gentleman in a suit as he approached the counter. He was attractive, but his overall vibe said he had a superiority complex and an overly confident stride.
“What can I get you?” Kaylee greeted in a bored, professional, customer service voice, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder.
Hidden behind her lavender apron, her pink skinny jeans were an affront to any goth’s eyes, and her cropped white shirt showed off her lightly tanned abdomen and navel piercing.
Her face was caked in so much well-applied make-up that she looked ready to walk down a runway aisle like a model. She was pretty enough, tall enough, and skinny enough to work the industry, but was too petulant to have ever tried.
The man who walked in wasn’t a regular, nor used to the vibe, and looked out of place with the grungier, book-nerd aura of the café. He frowned down at Kaylee leaning over the counter, who blinked back at him with deadened brown eyes of disinterest.
He looked to be in his late thirties, with a semi-permanent scowl. His peer down at his watch said he was likely some higher-up manager or business closer who was on the clock and had just waltzed into the first café he could find.
“I’d like a cappuccino flat white, with two sugars,” he answered, his voice just as pretty as his handsome, chiselled, cleanly shaven face.
Kaylee’s bottom lip fell with disgust as she regarded him down to his polished shoes before flicking her eyes up. She made a show of obnoxiously chewing her spearmint gum, and held his stare.
“You do know those two things are completely different, right? You can’t have a cappuccino and a flat white. One has foam and the other doesn’t. What are you looking for?”
His nose wrinkled on one side as his upper lip curled. “Listen, sweetheart. I’ve been ordering the same drink my entire life. It’s not my fault you can’t put together your two brain cells to make a simple coffee.”
Skylar winced. He’d called her a pet name and questioned her intelligence. She could already foresee what was about to happen.
“Sweetheart?” Kaylee scoffed, lifting her free hand to wiggle her fingers at his outfit. “I wouldn’t be your sweetheart even if you gave me your fake Rolex and hundred-dollar suit that isn’t even tailored to your body.” Then she stood up straight to tower over his six-foot frame with her six-foot-two height. “I’m guessing all your coffees are different and you complain every time. Do you want foam with a sprinkle of chocolate, or do you want a flat white?”
“You can’t speak to me like that,” he snapped out, looking down at his ‘Rolex’ for the time before covering it with a hand while looking off awkwardly. “Where’s your
How Kaylee had figured that out by just looking at him, Skylar didn’t know, but it had to be an assumption based on his attire. I didn’t even see what brand his watch was. Then again, that was Kaylee – she had a good eye for those with money.
“Present,” Skylar cut in while stepping forward. She shot Kaylee a humoured glare, but she just rolled her eyes to the ceiling with her lips curling upwards.
He eyed Skylar, her gothic, dark outfit, and then the few steps away to where she’d been cleaning the machine. “You were there the whole time and said nothing?”
She wiped her hands on her black apron and offered a wry smile. “I’m sorry, sir, but she’s right. You tried to order two different drinks in one, and it’s just not possible. Like she asked, would you prefer foam with chocolate on top or–”
“That’s a mocha, you daft idiot.”
Skylar’s eye twitched, and the lights above surged and flickered in response. “No, a mocha has chocolate in your coffee. A cappuccino has it on top only. A flat white doesn’t have foam or chocolate.”
“You know what? Screw this. There’s another café a few shops down,” he spat out, peeking at his watch again. “I’ll be ringing your real estate later to get ahold of the owner. I’m sure they’d like to know how inconsiderate their employees are.”
Skylar closed her eyes and offered him the biggest, closed-lip smile she could muster, hoping it was snide and condescending. “I am the owner, you pretentious fuckwit. Get the fuck out of my shop.” She opened her eyes and pointed to the camera above. “I’ll make sure to print out your photo with a life ban and a warning as to why: ‘Condescending idiot tries to tell a professional barista how to do their job like a little man-bitch.’”
His tanned face turned red with rage. “You can’t do that. I haven’t given you consent to film me or–”
“Actually, you did!” Skylar exclaimed while clapping her hands. “It’s literally on the door as you walked in. Go gaslight the sun.” Then she dropped all her pleasantries, her face going cold and cruel. She darkened her voice and even pushed in a spark of magic as she demanded, “Out. Now.”
His lips flattened with defiant annoyance before he looked around at the witnesses staring at him. The three other patrons inside shook their heads.
He quickly left, grumbling to himself.
The tension thickening the shop was sliced through by a patron who laughed, his welcoming chuckles lightening the mood significantly.
“You two always attract trouble, you know that, right?” Malcom said, leaning back in his chair and away from his laptop where he’d been working. “Kaylee has an attitude problem, and you’re short-tempered.”
Skylar picked up another damp cloth to wipe her hands and then scrubbed the counter now that Kaylee was no longer leaning on it. “After five years of abuse, you can just see it coming and know nothing will help but to be a dick back. It makes it feel rewarding, rather than just taking it. I’d rather lose his five bucks than let him abuse my employees, or me.”
“I’m not the one with an attitude problem,” Kaylee said, leaning on the counter once Skylar was done to stare at her long, manicured nails. “He started it.”
“To be fair” – Skylar shrugged, then sighed as she looked towards the door – “people judge me on the way I look. They see piercings and a goth, and think I’m some dropkick who never went to university or worked my ass off to own my own business.”
She looked down at her black dress partially covered by her apron. The flowy skirt came to her mid-thigh; the fake boning made a soft corset around her middle and cupped her breasts; and a pentagram made of strapping created a pattern across her chest. To finish it off, she wore a pair of flatform boots – because screw walking around in platforms all day – that came halfway up her calves.
Her nails were manicured with builder gel to make them stronger and painted a glossy black. Stylised make-up completed her preferred aesthetic – black lipstick, bat-wing eyeliner to help her hooded eye situation, painted-on lower lashes for that spiky goth look, and pink blush on her cheeks and nose for a touch of cutesiness. Her foundation cost over eighty dollars and was from a gothic brand that was able to match her pale skin, especially as she always struggled to find one light enough that didn’t paint her with a touch of orange or worse... green.
She hated how it hid her freckles, but it did make her light-blue eyes pop – especially in the sun. Not that she went in the sun, as she’d cook up like a lobster and turn bright red in under ten minutes within the Australian summer heat.
And summer was coming like a looming dark cloud in the distance.
Her arms were free of any tattoos, but she had a serpent coiling around her right thigh, and an elaborate back piece. She just hadn’t worked up to the rest of her body, as she realised after her thigh was done that she wanted tattooed sleeves and was having commitment issues regarding the designs.
“I think you look hot,” Kaylee threw at her. “He was probably so blinded by your beauty that he put his foot in his big, stupid mouth.”
Skylar laughed. “You do know that most people find you more attractive, Miss Runway.”
Happy with the attention, she pulled her messy ponytail forward and twirled it. “Of course I do. I use it to my advantage every chance I get.” Then Kaylee threw her fingers forward and twinkled her pretty stiletto nails at her. “My sugar daddy got me these.”
“You shouldn’t call your boyfriend your sugar daddy,” Skylar chided with a laugh. “He might get offended.”
Malcom grunted and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Skylar knew why. It was because the big punk softie had a thing for Kaylee and just kept showing up, hoping she’d one day be single. It was cute and not creepy because Skylar knew he was exactly her type, they were good friends, and Kaylee knew of his feelings. She’d given permission for Skylar not to chase him away from their workplace.
In part, all three were hoping things would happen one day, if her current boyfriend messed up... again. That, or if Kaylee did, as she was conceited and rude, yet funny and eccentric.
She was a bit of a conundrum. Bitchy but kind, silly but intelligent, prissy but super willing to do the hard work when required. All girly-pop cheerleader, who’d be down to get dirty and help dig up a body in the cemetery if someone precious to her needed it.
Many questions would be asked as to why, though, with Kaylee wanting the tea while they were in the middle of doing it.
“Get back to work. You’re supposed to be a quiet establishment,” Malcom joked, crouching over his laptop once more. The top of his curly mohawk became more apparent, and the light glinted off his eyebrow piercings. He wore a black T-shirt that showed off his tattooed arms, and black jeans that were bunched up to account for his big combat boots.
The door opened again, and another non-regular customer walked in.
“Welcome to The Bean Alchemist,” Kaylee said in a deadened, overused voice. “What can I get you?”
Skylar grinned when Kaylee greeted the person properly, even putting a bright smile on. The woman beamed back, her brown eyes wide as she looked around with wonder, a book under her arm. It was obviously love at first sight.
“The Bean Alchemist. What a cool name!” she gushed.
Skylar had thought she was a genius when she’d come up with the name, cackling at the hidden joke as she typed it into the Australian Taxation Office online portal. Apparently the internet had beaten her to the idea years ago, and she was just old – not really – and these younger whippersnappers were too quick for her to keep up with what was trending.
Still, it often filled her heart with joy to see it painted above the entry doorway in silver gothic calligraphy lettering.
Especially as no one, not even Kaylee, knew just how true it was.
Or that Skylar was, in fact, a witch who meddled in alchemy every day.
Chapter
Two
Helen, the new non-regular who was totally about to become a regular, ordered the hyper-fixation.
It was any coffee drink, but with an added ‘something’ to help those who were struggling to focus. Everyone likely thought it was some kind of inside joke about the name of the establishment, especially as Skylar often winked and said she was the alchemist behind the miracles.
