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Five Little Piggies (FINISHED 11/28/2021)


Cyril Figgis

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35 minutes ago, >_< 0_0 said:

Man, it was creepy since the end of the first paragraph! Love it though. But I just remembered the fourth little piggy had none 🤔🤔

Doesn't mean she won't be getting fat.  The only question is how someone gets fat from eating nothing at all...

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CHAPTER 6

Adrienne Fitzgerald always had a soft spot for animals: even when she grew into a shallow and vain member of Nancy Hill’s clique, it was the only thing sincere about her.  Her favorite vacation spot used to be her grandfather’s ranch, where she got to ride horses, play with chickens, and even milk cows—though she was never very good at the latter.  She knew that her grandfather distributed all sorts of goods from his ranch, but she always assumed that it was corn, wheat, and other such crops that helped put Fitzgerald Farms in grocery stores up and down the East Coast.  When she found out what her grandfather really did with the animals he raised—the same ones she played with—Adrienne swore off meat for the rest of her life.

One warm summer night, she was out catching fireflies when she noticed that a door had been left ajar on one of the barns when it should have been locked.  Adrienne was going to tell someone about the door, but, since she had always been told not to go inside, curiosity got the better of her and she took a peek.  Inside the building were dozens of animals from around the farm—chickens, cows, pigs, and more—and they were crowded into cramped pens that offered no room for them to do anything but squirm against each other.  That was bad enough, but as she ventured deeper into the building, her stomach sank at the further discoveries she made.

Dead animals hung from hooks like clothes at the store, some whole and some cut apart.  The stink of blood and filth overtook her nose, and it was all she could do not to gag.  Grisly tools lined the walls, her imagination filling in the blanks of what they were used for.  It painted a grim portrait of what the ranch was really like, and when she ran back to the main house, she was utterly inconsolable as she told her parents everything.

That was the last time they ever visited the ranch, and Adrienne was always uneasy around her grandparents after that.  She vowed to never touch another piece of meat as long as she lived, and as she got older and more used to her vegetarian lifestyle, the mere scent of cooked meat was enough to make her queasy.  Nancy gave her crap now and then because of her dietary decisions, but Adrienne stood fast and never let so much as a chicken nugget pass her lips.  While her attitude shifted some as she got older and she used her vegetarian diet as a way to stand over others, she never truly forgot her time in the slaughterhouse.

Sadly, her principles went out the window as soon as Pig Face injected her with that vile toxin that sparked an ungodly hunger in her belly.  Adrienne needed to consume something—anything—before her stomach caved in on itself, and if it took tearing through a mountain of meat to do that, then so be it.  Any thoughts of what the animals had gone through to wind up in her mouth drifted from her mind, replaced with a single-minded desire as she tore the steak from the bone.  A small part of her wanted to be sick at what she was forced to do, but the greater part of her body simply choked down each mouthful to make room for the next.

Meanwhile, Pig Face returned to the room with more food for his captive, who was free to leave if she wanted but remained because of the food on hand.  He smirked behind his porcine mask at what had become of the sporty girl who always looked down on others for not being as pious as her, now devouring plate after plate like a hungry lion.  If she had any qualms about this, she did not show it as juice dribbled down her chin and dotted her blouse like raindrops.

“Good, isn’t it?” Pig Face asked, even though he knew she could not hear him.  “I’ll admit, I was surprised to see how easily you broke; I thought you’d put up at least a little bit of a fight.  But no, you went straight for the meat without a second thought, even though you knew exactly what it took for this feast to end up on the table.  You truly are a vile hypocrite, and it will be a delight to watch you turn into a helpless cow like your friends.”

The reminder of Heather and Marilyn’s suffering at the hands of this madman brought Adrienne back from the brink, and the fog began to dissipate from her mind.  Her last mouthful was a struggle to swallow, feeling like a lump of poison in her throat that she just barely managed to get down—and even then, she still felt like gagging.  She wanted to believe this was all a nightmare, but the grease on her lips and fingers confirmed that this was all too real.

“You…oh God,” Adrienne groaned, bile rising in her throat.  “Why are you doing this?  Why kill any of us?  What did we ever do to you?!”

Pig Face shot out of his chair and loomed over Adrienne, who shrank back at the sight of the towering fiend.  He glowered down at her and hissed, “Do you really need to ask that question?  You and all of your friends are the most vile, reprehensible creatures to ever befall this town, and you ask why you deserve this?  Half this town wishes you were dead—they just don’t have the stomach for the task.  But I do, and woe to the rest of your coven.”

Adrienne backed up until she hit the wheelchair again, and she glanced from Pig Face to the remnants of her feast on the desk.  It was a mess of scraps and bones, with the T-bone cleaned of all beef and the roasted chicken just a few bites away from being ready for broth.  She felt like she was going to be sick, but whatever drug was coursing through her system kept her from vomiting up everything she had wolfed down—and she did not know which was worse.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” she tried begging one more time, even though she knew her pleas would fall on deaf ears.  “I’ll do anything you want—anything!”

This time, there was a response to her pleas, though she was not sure if it was better than being ignored like the last time.  Pig Face started to chuckle, which then turned into a full laugh that was cold and mirthless, causing Adrienne to shrink back further.  In between laughs, he managed to say, “You people never fail to amaze me with your naivete!  Do you really think I’m going to stop just because you beg me to?  Did you ever think to stop when your victims begged?”

Hot tears ran down Adrienne’s eyes as she sobbed, “It was Nancy!  I was only doing what Nancy said!  Kill her, make her a blob—just don’t kill me!”

“And what about the Myers girl?  What if I had grabbed her too when I snatched you away?” asked Pig Face, his laughter coming to a screeching halt.  “If I said I was going to kill one of you and let the other go, what would you say?”

“Fuck Jamie!  Do whatever you want with her, I don’t care,” Adrienne shrieked.

“There it is—that selfish nature of yours,” her captor jeered as he pushed her back into the wheelchair and strapped her in, despite her struggles to escape.  “When it comes to animals, you’re as sweet as can be, but your fellow man?  You’d sell out your own mother if it meant getting ahead.  No, Adrienne, there’s no escape for you.  You might as well get comfortable while you still can, because I guarantee that this is going to get far, far worse for you if you don’t cooperate.”

As Pig Face picked up a cheeseburger and brought it up to her face, Adrienne knew that he was right in everything he said.  If it came down to her life or anyone else’s, she would always choose her own skin—that was just how she was brought up.  She thought about Jamie and how she had risked her neck going into Marilyn’s house to check on her, and Adrienne recalled that there was a big part of her brain screaming at her to drive away.  It was cold, but Jamie had always been the smartest of the group; she would have found a way out.  And even if she had not, that was none of Adrienne’s concern.

But neither Jamie, Nancy, nor anyone else was there to take the fall for her, and Adrienne had to suffer the most undignified death she could imagine.  All her life, she had found ways to get out any situation: lying, cheating, and even blackmailing, all to save herself from punishment.  Those escapes had finally caught up with her, and she now found herself facing down the one person on Earth that she could not bargain with.  Even though she could not see his face, she knew just by looking in his eyes that there was nothing she could do or say to get Pig Face to let her go.  The hate she saw there was so powerful that Adrienne cowed to their intensity and meekly opened her mouth for the cheeseburger.

***

With no windows and no clock in the office, Adrienne had no idea how much time had passed since she started eating; the only things she could gauge were the amount of food she had consumed and the damage it had done on her body.  Tin foil, wax paper, and Styrofoam plates were scattered around the office floor, leftover juice and scraps spilling onto the tile, and a pile of bones built up beside her in a grisly testament to her gluttony.  Juice and grease had splattered all over her blouse and jeans, so much so that they were beyond salvation—though grease stains were the least of her worries.

Just like Heather and Marilyn before her, the chemicals running through her veins accelerated the rate at which food broke down into fat, with the dispersal of her increasing weight the only change.  Heather had grown into a round girl, a veritable globe that could have been rolled out of the mall, and Marilyn’s lower half had exploded with so much blubber that she not only got caught in a doorway—she broke the frame.  Adrienne filled out all over her body, from her fine fingers plumping up into stubby sausages to her thighs spreading out to the limits of the wheelchair, but the majority of the weight went into breasts that Marilyn would have killed for.

Her chest was always a spot of envy for the girls at Haddonfield High, and Adrienne derived a good deal of pleasure in flaunting her assets whenever she had the chance.  Now, as their increasing swell caused a second button to burst from her blouse, she wanted nothing more to hide them from the world.  What had started as soft, perky tits had grown into sacks of blubber that overflowed her wildly undersized bra and strained her shoulders with their weight.  Blue veins mixed with pink stretch marks in marring her perfect skin, and the straps of her bra cut into Adrienne’s shoulders and back like a knife.  It was a small relief when the garment finally snapped, but the knowledge that they were so big that they drooped down onto her belly filled her with dread.

And ‘belly’ was the appropriate term for the balloon that sat at her waist, rising ever higher with each greasy dish she was forced to eat.  Her belt, achingly tight, cut her stomach into two distinct rolls: one that oozed over the waistband like dough, and one that filled her jeans to the point of threads creaking in discomfort.  She wanted desperately to undo something—anything—to give herself some relief, but that was all part of the torture Pig Face had in mind for her.  It felt like she was wearing a cage that was getting smaller and smaller around her, except they were not smaller—she was just bigger.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Pig Face remained silent, simply glaring at her as he stuffed more fatty cuts of meat down her throat.  Adrienne tried to picture who was under that mask, who could possibly hate her enough to do this to her, but there were too many people that came to mind.  The Queens of Devil’s Peak really had run roughshod over the town, and there were any number of men that wanted to see them dead.  When she came to that conclusion, she slumped in her chair and obediently opened her mouth, resigned to her fate of growing fatter until she could take no more.

With that resignation, the floodgates opened and Adrienne picked up speed in her eating, the inhuman hunger unleashed once more.  Pig Face did his best to keep up, but when he saw the flicker of rebellion die in his captive’s eyes, he knew he did not need to feed her another bite.  He tossed aside a cleaned drumstick and asked, “You understand now, don’t you?  There’s no hope for you—no escaping and calling your mommy to bail you out.  You’re going to eat until you can’t fit one more bite down your throat, and eventually, your heart’s going to stop.”

Adrienne bowed her head into her cleavage and, realizing that she could just barely see her lap past the acres of tit, whimpered, “Yes.  Just let me eat…I’ll eat whatever you want now.”

“Good,” Pig Face replied as he undid the straps that held her down.  “You’re going to do nothing but eat now: if you make another fuss, I’ll hook you up to a meat grinder and feed it to you that way.  Now, no more words—eat.”

With that command, Adrienne lunged forward and resumed gorging, her morals gone out with her determination.  If she could do nothing but eat, then she would eat every bite placed in front of her—however much Pig Face had in mind for her.  She recalled doing something similar to a girl who dared try to take the cheer captain title from her, forcing Tricia to eat a plate of worms to remind her of her place.  It was satisfying at the time, but looking back made Adrienne realize that she truly deserved this punishment—judgment had finally come for her.

Growing fat only came easier with her spirit broken, and Adrienne quickly outgrew her clothes as she tore through a never-ending feast of meat.  The buttons on her blouse popped one after the other, scattering across the desk and floor to be forgotten among the refuse.  Her sleeves tore along her flabby arms, each new pound allowing thick slabs of blubber to escape and breathe freely.  The zipper on her jeans was forced open by her bulging belly, soon joined by the snap as her gut surged forward onto her lap.  Threads were torn asunder all across her blubbery body, destroying what had once been designer clothes and reducing them to greasy rags.

The girl that stood at the desk, shoveling calorie bombs down her throat with reckless abandon, was far from the same girl that took Haddonfield High’s cheer squad to a state tournament.  All the meat she ate caused her body to sweat like she was in a sauna, such that a small puddle formed at her feet.  Her perfect hair matted to her forehead and neck, but Adrienne did nothing to fix it, even as it tickled her chubby cheeks.  Beads of sweat cascaded down her body, running through every roll and stretch mark that had sprouted along her once toned frame.  Heavy mounds of breast meat sloped down either side of her belly, their perkiness lost to time as they grew bigger than prize watermelons.  And still, she ate, knowing full well the destruction she had wrought on herself.

“Won’t be long now,” Pig Face remarked from his place across from her.  “Your friends weren’t much bigger than this before their bodies gave out; I give you another few minutes at most.”

Adrienne had long blown past denial and bargaining, and she now rested firmly in cold acceptance.  The aches and pains in her swelling corpulence were telltale signs of her impending demise, but there was nothing she could do to halt it even if she had the will.  Her movements became sluggish as her muscles cramped and her limbs grew heavy as sandbags, yet she still crammed a handful of bacon in her mouth.  She was so frontloaded between her breasts and stomach that Adrienne had to lean over just to give her back some small relief while still reaching for more food.  Her chubby cheeks were flush and her breathing ragged, but there was nothing that could save her and she knew it.

Finally, she could take no more and she collapsed on the desktop, her mouth still full of hot dogs and corned beef.  A weak splutter escaped her lips as her eyes turned glassy and the room spun around her, but her jaw still worked to get through that last mouthful.  Adrienne’s fingers twitched as they clawed at the desk, clutching at anything that would keep her alive for a minute longer.

“About time,” Pig Face grunted as he got up from his chair.  “I’m almost impressed you held out for as long as you did, cow.  Tell you what: I know you’ve been wondering who I am, so how about I clue you in?  It’s not like you’ll ever tell anyone, after all.”

Adrienne clung to life for a moment longer, and though her vision blurred around the edges and spots flickered in her eyes, she could still see Pig Face remove his mask.  When she saw the face that lay behind that porcine disguise, her eyes went wide and she gurgled, “W—urk!”

That was all she had left, and the light fled her eyes as she slumped down into her cavernous cleavage, never to rise again.  The rest of her body followed in turn, collapsing to the floor like an avalanche of vanilla pudding.  Pig Face donned his mask once more and cracked the joints in his body, readying himself for moving the landwhale somewhere a bit more public…

***

Marty Green always came in early to open the butchery, wanting to get a head start on the day’s orders and shoot the breeze with the delivery man.  When he arrived, he opened the shutters on the front of the store and threw open the door, expecting to be greeted by the familiar dried meats hanging from the walls and the hum of the freezers at the front of the store.  What he did not expect to find was the body of Adrienne Fitzgerald spread out on the top of the counter, splayed out like a luau pig and sporting an apple in her mouth.

It was the third such case in two days, and the police were baffled when they arrived on the scene.  Adrienne Fitzgerald had somehow exploded in weight overnight, growing from skin and bones to bovine proportions.  Her breasts were twice as big as her head and served as a pair of cushions, while her belly pooled out under her and flopped over the side of the counter.  Her backside had ballooned into a pair of beachballs that sagged under their weight, spreading onto thighs that looked like cottage cheese from all the cellulite.  For one who had prided herself on her appearance in life, she left behind a grisly corpse for the medics to take away.

By now, it had become clear that something was going on in Devil’s Peak, and the former mean girls that tormented the town were under attack.  Gossip spread like wildfire among the residents, and the rumor mill abounded with possibilities of who had done it and how.  And since Nancy Hill was out of the country, all eyes were on Jamie Myers to see what would happen to her.  Was she going to survive this, or would she wind up another corpulent casualty?

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1 hour ago, >_< 0_0 said:

This story is so intense. You go into it knowing how bad it will get, but you keep reading out of morbid curiosity, and hold onto some sense of hope that there’s a silver lining to it

Keeping holding, mon frère, because we're not out of the woods yet.

3 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Oh boy, my guess now is that the mean girl queen Nancy is pig face.

But how could it possibly be Nancy when she's been mysteriously absent from the story thus far...

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CHAPTER 7

Devil’s Peak was not without its fair share of tragedies between the Crystal Lake Bridge Collapse of ’63, the decades-long feud between the Hewitts and the Sawyers on the outskirts of town, and the grisly lynching of a wrongfully convicted janitor in ’25, but what happened to Heather Buchanan, Marilyn Lovett, and Adrienne Fitzgerald was unlike anything the town had ever seen before.  It was disturbing enough that three girls could all die within hours of each other, but the manner in which it happened was like something out of a science-fiction movie.  How they could glut themselves on so much food without bursting was bizarre enough, but how they blew up like balloons only made things odder.

What troubled Jamie most was how the town reacted—namely, how they barely contained their glee at the deaths of these hellions.  Sure, the news treated it with all due seriousness and the police did their due diligence, but no one else shared that mindset.  Some people saw Jamie and shook their heads, as if they could see the vultures looming over her.  Some pushed their noses up into makeshift snouts and snorted at her.  The worst was when someone requested that ‘Ding-Dong!  The Witch is Dead’ be played on the local radio station.  She knew that people would be happy that the clique was gone, but it was no less insulting knowing just how many people wanted it.

The stares though…those were unbearable.  Jamie used to relish in the attention she garnered by hanging around Nancy Hill and getting into debauchery and degeneracy on a regular basis, finally getting the attention she never received from her parents.  After splitting from the clique and trying to turn over a new leaf, she squirmed under the hateful, judgmental gaze that the townspeople cast on her—daring her to step out of line again.  Their looks only grew more uncomfortable when Jamie grew plump, gawking at every new pound that she allowed onto her body and watching as the formerly skinny girl ate herself closer to obesity.

But now, all eyes were on her to see what happened next, like rubberneckers who slowed down at a car crash.  When they looked at her, they did not see an innocent girl that was in danger—they just saw a pig fattened for the slaughter.  There were few kind words to be had, and Jamie grew more paranoid with each passing day as she became convinced that Pig Face waited around every corner for her.  Paranoia led to anxiety, and anxiety led to overeating, which Jamie was more than willing to indulge if it gave her some kind of relief.

If there was any silver lining, it was that things were better between Jamie and her parents for the first time in a long time.  Specifically, they were better when it came to her mother, as her father still gave her these frowns and scowls whenever she mentioned that she was hungry.  Her mother was comforting for the first time in a long while, consoling her as best she could despite how they had not truly spoken to each other in years.  God bless her, she still thought that Jamie would feel better if she got a hot fudge sundae from Friendly’s; that she actually did feel better after glutting herself on ice cream was beside the point.

Jamie’s father kept himself busy at work—whether he was actually working or just screwing his secretary again was beside the point—but her mother stayed home with her over the next few days.  Molly carted her daughter here and there in an effort to take her mind off the events earlier that week, hoping that a little shopping therapy would ease some of the tension.  And when that failed, the two shared a nice meal at one of the local restaurants or a delicious dinner cooked up by Luisa.  It was actually nice, and for a brief moment, Jamie felt some of the worry drift from her mind; a few days’ reprieve from horror made her feel that things had calmed down.

That peace was shattered on Friday, when she went out with her mother to get some new jeans after Jamie made a remark about hers being a little too tight.  They went to J. C. Penney in an effort to find a place where the killer was less likely to look for her, and they browsed through the selections on hand in search of the designer brands that both were used to.  Eventually, Jamie found herself an armful of options and made her way over to the dressing rooms to test each one in the hopes of finding something that actually fit her chunky backside.

“Do you want me to get you anything while you’re trying those on?” Molly asked.  “I saw the cutest blouse that would be just perfect for Easter.”

“I think I’ve got plenty to try on right now, Mom,” Jamie answered, a giggle on her lips for the first time in days.  When her stomach made itself known with a hungry gurgle though, she bit her lip and asked, “Maybe a snack though?”

It was a ridiculous proposition, considering that they had just had lunch before coming to the mall, but Molly did not even bat an eyelid.  Instead, she suggested, “Oh, I’ll grab us a couple corn dogs from the Hot Dog on a Stick next door!  If I’m not back by the time you’re done, just wait for me right here; I’m sure it won’t take too long though.”

With how many jeans Jamie had to go through, she felt certain that she would still be struggling with denim by the time her mother got back.  She cursed herself for her lack of self-control, since that was a big reason why she needed new jeans in the first place, but it was easy to tell herself that she had been under a lot of stress recently.  And her mom was actually acting like a mom for the first time in ages; their meals together over the last few days had helped to take her mind off the gruesome events at the start of the week.  Jamie told herself that she would properly diet and exercise once the heat had died down, but those promises were bound for the wastebin like so many others.

“All right, Take 1,” the brunette whispered as she took a long look at the jeans in her hand.  The Size 12s she had been accustomed to were pinching her something fierce and were a struggle to fit into each morning, but hopefully a Size 14 would work just fine.

Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed as soon as Jamie got them up her thighs and stopped at her overfilled rump.  She knew that she had gotten a little thick back there, but the resistance she met as she tugged the denim up her bubbly cheeks was absurd.  By the time she finished what felt like a Herculean task, she was red in the cheeks and huffing for air, which did not bode well for the next part.  Her fingers found both ends of the waistband and sucked in her stomach as much as she could, but even if she held her breath until she was blue, there was no way the ends would meet.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jamie huffed, allowing her stomach to pooch out again.  “I knew I was getting fat, but I can’t be that fat.  Maybe we picked the wrong size?”

But no, the label very clearly read ‘14’ in bold letters, which only served to push the knife deeper into Jamie’s heart.  She knew that she was getting fat when she grew into the double digits, but she assured herself that a 10 would be as big as she got; that 10 became a 12, and now she found herself unable to squeeze into a pair of 14s.  It was downright humiliating, and even though Jamie had quit her mean girl ways, she still had some pride in her appearance.

“Maybe that brand just runs small,” she fooled herself as she picked the next pair.

Though she tried on several different pairs, Jamie was no closer to finding a comfortable pair of jeans than when she started.  She pulled from different designers and a variety of styles, but none of them were anything close to comfortable—and that was for the ones she could actually button.  Most were unable to close, packed full as they were by her hips and ass, but even when she did manage to close them, she felt like she was caught in a bear trap.  And even if she were not in pain, she would not be caught dead with how much of her belly rolled over the waistband.

“Okay, corn dogs might have been a bad idea after all,” Jamie grunted after shucking off another pair of jeans.  “When I get home, I’m just going to ask Luisa for a salad; I can’t keep eating like crap if I ever want to lose weight.”

As she prepared herself for another fruitless attempt, Jamie heard someone walking down the row of dressing rooms with heavy footfalls.  She paused, jeans only halfway up her thighs, and watched as a pair of combat boots stopped right outside her stall door.  That now familiar feeling of dread bubbled up in her stomach again, and it only grew worse when the person on the other side jostled with the handle.  With a lump in her throat, she called out, “Occupied!”

There was a heavy silence in the air for a moment before the person on the other side snorted, “Oink-oink, Jamie!  Time for you to get fat!”

All the joy of shopping vanished and her blood ran cold as Jamie shrank back against the far wall.  She had never heard Pig Face speak before, so there was no way of knowing if this was someone playing a cruel prank on her or the real deal, but she was scared either way.  Her voice trembled as she begged, “Leave me alone!  Just go away!”

“Little pig, little pig, let me come in,” the voice on the other side snickered.  “Not by the hairs on your double chin-chin?  Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll climb on over!”

Jamie whimpered as she heard scuffling outside her stall, and those cries gave way to bloody shrieks when a masked man poked his head over the stall wall.  That panic soon gave way to confusion though, as she realized that the man did not have the same mask as Pig Face—he wore a generic Porky Pig mask, not the grotesque skin mask that haunted her dreams.  Whether this was the same man or not made no difference in the moment, as whoever was behind the mask was now trying to crawl over the wall and into her stall.

“Get out of here!” Jamie screamed at the top of her lungs before turning to the door.  “Help!  Somebody help, please!”

After everything that had happened, she was sure that no one would bother coming for her, which was why she was so surprised to hear pounding feet enter the dressing rooms.  Someone ran around to the stall beside her and yanked the masked man down from the wall before delivering a few sharp blows that sounded painful.  Jamie did not move from her spot on the floor, curled up in a ball and too afraid to so much as breathe until she knew the coast was clear.  It was only when she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door that she dared poke her head up from her knees.

“Jamie, you in there?” a man asked gruffly.  “It’s Will—Will Godwinn.  I’ve got the little creep that was trying to crawl over, and one of the clerks is getting security.”

Will Godwinn—there was a blast from the past.  The star quarterback at Haddonfield High, he used to hang around Nancy and the clique quite frequently, though he never made a move on any of them, no matter how much flirting was thrown around.  Nancy was so bitter that she nearly started a rumor about him being gay, but Adrienne talked her out of it by convincing her to hook up with another school’s quarterback instead.  Regardless of his romantic interests, he was just another dumb jock to most of the school—hogging all the attention and make a spectacle of himself.  The only thing he never did with his footballer friends was get into pranking the other students, not wanting to get in trouble with his eyes on university.

Perhaps that was why he was so furious with Nancy when Peggy McDonald killed herself, for Will very nearly strangled the queen bitch that night.  No one ever knew why, but they assumed it was because he did not want to be implicated in her suicide—or maybe he just hated how pig shit got on his suit.  Regardless, he stopped hanging out with the clique after that, just like most everyone else in town had rightfully done.  Gone was the playful banter between them, replaced instead with stony silence and hateful glares until he stopped paying attention to them all together.

Jamie had no idea why he would go out of his way to help her after all this time, but she was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She choked back her fear and answered, “Thanks, Will.  I’m…I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Take your time,” Will replied.  “Are you here with anyone?”

“My mom.  She just went next door to get some food,” Jamie muttered as she shimmied into her uncomfortably tight jeans again, wishing this little reunion did not involve her bloated stomach.

“I’ll stay here until she gets back.  Security will want to talk to us both anyway,” the boy explained.  “And I’ll keep an eye out for any other freaks.”

When Jamie finally buttoned her jeans and poked her head out of the stall, she was relieved and concerned to find that Will stayed true to his word and propped himself up against the far wall.  The relief came from knowing that someone had her back, but the concern came from being reminded of what a hunk he was and what a fatty she had become.  Will Godwinn had the hair of Jim Morrison, the face of James Dean, and the body of Sylvester Stallone, and Jamie was tempted to play the fainting damsel and throw herself into his arms.  Only the realization that doing so meant him squeezing her plushness was the only major deterrent, and she settled for fidgeting uncomfortably.

“Um…thanks, Will,” Jamie mumbled, shy for the first time in a long while.  “I’m glad you came when you did; not a lot of people willing to help me out these days.”

“You kidding?  Even if he wasn’t the sicko that got the others, I’m not going to let someone get jumped by a freak out to get his kicks,” Will replied without a hint of malice in his voice.  “I’m just glad I got here before anything bad could happen.”

In between glances down to the floor, Jamie stole a look at Will and found out that he was looking back at her, but not with the same malice he had just a few months prior.  No, she believed there was something else there that no one else but her mother had shown her over the last few days—kindness.  When he looked at her, he did not see the next in line for murder, but a scared girl who was in far over her head, which only served to fuel that desire to run into his arms.

“What’s got you in town this week?” she asked, brushing her hair behind an ear in one of her old moves.  “I’d think you’d be at the beach for Spring Break.”

“Change of plans,” the boy answered with a shrug.  “Mom broke her leg, so we’re staying put this year; I was actually shopping for a gift to make her feel better.”

Jamie reached out on instinct and touched Will’s forearm, only to recoil when she realized how forward she was being—something she would never have done a few months prior.  She apologized, “I’m so sorry to hear that.  Have you found anything for her?”

This time, it was Will’s turn to act bashful, and he gave a shy smile as he replied, “Nah, I’m no good with gifts, especially for women.  My Christmas gift to her last year was tickets to a Beavers vs Dragons game, and I don’t think she’s forgiven me just yet.”

“Well, maybe I could give you some advice,” Jamie offered, feeling like she was 11 years old again and trying to ask a boy to the Sadie Hawkins dance.  It was a far cry from the mean face she wore over the last few years, but she did not miss it.

“That’d be great,” Will said in turn.  “But let’s wait until your mom and security get here.”

They did just that, with Will keeping one eye on the bloodied prankster and the other on Jamie, who stood close by in case anyone else tried to be funny.  After all the dread and panic at the start of the week, she was glad to feel safe and comfortable with Will at her side.  Security was quick to collect the masked man, and when Molly saw her daughter talking to the guards, she nearly dropped the corndogs and drinks she had ordered.  Jamie was quick to reassure her mother that she had not been hurt, though she still wolfed down her corndog to ease some of the nerves still lingering in her stomach.

“Will, I can’t thank you again for helping my Jamie,” Molly told the young man.  “Is there any way I can repay you?  Why not come by our house tonight for dinner?  I can have our housekeeper make up a nice apple pie if you’d like.”

“Mom, come on,” Jamie mumbled in a vain effort to stop her mother from embarrassing her.

Fortunately, Will took it in stride and answered, “That’s mighty nice of you, Ms. Myers.  I’ll let my folks know, and then I’ll swing by around 6.”

“Perfect!  Now, what say we find your mother something nice?  Nothing’s too good for her in my book,” Molly decided as she led the way out into the store.

The two teens shared a knowing look at each other, quite familiar with how moms had their minds set on something.  They stuck close to one another as they browsed around, and Jamie found herself imagining she was on a date—it would be the first she had in a long while, if so.  For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt normal again: there were no boogeymen waiting for her around the corner, and if there were, Will would be able to stop them.  Maybe this was just a one-time affair, maybe this was the start of something new, but Jamie was too happy to care.

“Oh, Jamie dear, did you find any jeans that fit?” her mother asked, much to her chagrin.

So maybe not everything was great, but Jamie was trying not to focus on her gains, hard as that was with the Adonis at her side.  She just hoped that Will did not mind a little extra fluff on his girls…

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CHAPTER 8

Having Will over for dinner led to the most enjoyable evening Jamie could remember in a long while.  Unlike the formalities of holiday get-togethers with the rest of her vapid and shallow family, everything felt so genuine; no one was trying to impress or show up anyone else.  Will was a natural charmer, enthralling her mother and father with stories about the football field, school, and his plans after graduation.  Her parents, for their part, could not stop professing their gratitude for the boy who saved their daughter, and even her father ducking out to see his secretary did not dampen the mood.  It felt normal, like the kind of family dinners they showed on TV—loving, warm, and comforting, which was just what Jamie needed.

As if he had not endeared himself enough, Will helped Luisa with the dishes and even fixed a quick batch of smoothies for Jamie and Molly.  This tickled Molly to no end, and she pointed out to her daughter, “Handsome, kind, and knows how to cook?  You’ve got a winner on your hands!”

“Oh my gawd, Mom, stop,” Jamie mumbled, her cheeks a rosy pink.  “Will’s just being nice, that’s all; he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like me.”

“Nonsense!  Honey, any boy who doesn’t see a fine catch in you is blind, crazy, or both,” Molly assured her blushing daughter.  “I’ll be the first to admit that I could have done a better job as a mother, but you’re an amazing young woman, Jamie, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say so.  Let’s let the past stay where it is and focus on the future, okay?”

Jamie found herself at a loss for words after hearing the sincerest thing her mother had told her in years.  Molly was right in saying that she was not the best parent, focusing more on her career and social standing than her child, but Jamie had seen far worse in her time with the Queens of Devil’s Peak.  As she got older, she felt sorry for her mother more than anything else; it could not have been easy dealing with a philandering husband and an out-of-control daughter.  That was why the first bridges she tried to mend when she left the group were with her parents, and while things were still frosty with her father, Jamie could take comfort in knowing things were warmer with her mother.

“Thanks, Mom,” the now mousy girl hummed in contentment.  “That really means a lot.”

“I meant every word,” Molly replied as she gave her daughter a hug around the shoulders.  “But you really should make a move with that boy; he’s like the second coming of David Cassidy.”

 “Mom!” Jamie squeaked, glancing to the kitchen doorway to see if Will was nearby.  When she could not see him, she replied softly, “He’s way cuter than David Cassidy.”

The two Myers women were still giggling when their handsome guest made his appearance with three tall glasses in hand.  Will passed the smoothies to Jamie and Molly as he explained, “I hope you like them: if I have a signature dish, it’s smoothies; no one else on the football team can compare.”

Molly was the first to take a sip, as Jamie was too entranced by Will’s amber eyes and how they focused on her.  Her mother remarked, “Oh my, that is delicious!  William, I might just have to steal some recipes and bring them to my next spin class.”

“Oh, I’m more than happy to share, Mrs. Myers,” Will replied politely.  “It’s a dessert mix that I’ll make for myself from time to time after a workout.  You get a little peanut butter, some milk, cocoa powder, and bananas, and you’ve got yourself a good time; I tried to cut it back a bit in case it was too sweet though.  What do you think, Jamie?”

When she realized she had not yet tasted the frothy concoction, Jamie took a quick sip and let out a hum of delight.  Her first, small taste was followed by a second, longer draw that almost gave her brain freeze, but the delicious taste won out.  She smiled and answered, “It’s the best smoothie I’ve ever had.  The people down at the Burger Barn ought to hire you on to make new recipes!”

Will rubbed the back of his neck and blushed as he replied, “Well, I don’t know if they’re that good, but I’d always be happy to bring you some at school.”

The two teens glanced away from each other like they were back in elementary school, too shy to ask for a dance.  Molly, in reading the room, smirked and got up from the couch with a sigh.  “I hate to leave, but it’s about time for my stories and I’m sure you two will want to catch up some more.  Will, it was so nice meeting you, and you’re more than welcome in our house any time.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Myers,” the brawny boy replied, his eyes darting to Jamie to show where the pleasure really lay.  “And next time, I’ll bring something to the table besides smoothies.”

Before Jamie could say anything else on the matter, her mother skittered out of the room and left her alone with the hottest boy in school.  It was something she would have looked forward to some months prior; now, she felt nervous as a virgin and took solace in sipping at her milkshake.  If there was any silver lining to the awkward silence, it was that Will was just as much lost for words, though his eyes said plenty every time they looked at her.  She just hoped it was because he liked what he saw, and not that he was grossed out by the muffin top rolling over her jeans.

“You look good tonight,” Jamie finally admitted.  “You clean up a lot better than some of the other guys on the team.”

“Not every jock’s an Ogre,” Will chuckled.  “But you look good too: those new jeans look really nice on you.”

While the compliment was appreciated, it also served as a reminder of her fashion failures earlier that day.  Jamie knew she was getting big, but to have to go up two sizes in her latest trip to the mall was an eye-opener.  She never could have imagined herself at a Size 6, yet here she was, well into the double digits and not slowing down at all—the extra serving of apple pie she had after dinner saw to that.  Was that why she felt so nervous around Will, now that she was no longer the skinny girl she used to be?  There could be no other answer, since she was trying to suck in her gut as best she could the entire time Will had been in the house.

“They’d probably look better if I wasn’t so big,” Jamie muttered, unable to meet her classmate’s eyes as she focused on her paunchy stomach.  “Can’t believe I got so fat this year; I feel like an absolute pig.  I really need to get a grip on this before I get too big to go back.”

After such a self-depreciating remark, Jamie expected the air in the room to grow even more stifling, but Will did not seem put off in the slightest.  He moved from his spot across the room to the empty seat beside Jamie on the couch, and he replied, “Don’t say that.  I mean it when I say you look good; if I’m honest, you’ve never looked better.”

Jamie’s pink cheeks darkened to a tomato red and her fingers danced around in her lap as she fumbled for a response that was not limited to mumbling.  She finally managed to say, “You’re just saying that to be nice.  I’ve put on fifty pounds since the school year started, so now I’m too fat for any of the cute clothes I used to wear and can’t shop at the places I used to love.  And I want to lose weight, but every time I try to diet or exercise, I just quit because it’s too hard!  I don’t want to be the same bitchy girl I used to be, but I don’t want to be a big, fat butterball either!”

Jamie had no idea she was crying, realizing it only when Will reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks.  He looked deep into her eyes with a smoldering look that melted her heart, and he told her, “Beauty isn’t defined by a number on the scale or the tags on your clothes, Jamie.  It’s different from person to person; what’s ugly to you is beautiful to me.”

“Did…did you just call me beautiful?” asked Jamie, ** down her sobs so she could take in everything Will said.  He did not answer her this time—at least not with words.

Her heart caught in her throat when Will leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips, the first she had in many months.  Time froze for the confused girl, and she could only stare like a deer in headlights as Will pulled away and smiled softly at her.  He asked, “Does that answer your question?”

It took a moment for Jamie to catch her breath and compose herself, and even then, she was still full of butterflies.  She nibbled at her lip and answered, “I don’t know…you might have to show me just a little more.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Will replied as he went for another kiss—one that Jamie reciprocated wholeheartedly and passionately.

When she had been under Nancy Hill’s thumb, Jamie had to maintain a standard of beauty that was downright barbaric in hindsight.  If she looked bloated, she needed to live on a diet of chewing gum and sugar pills for a few days; if she ate more than she should at a meal, she was expected to vomit it back up.  She had to be thin because Nancy was thin, and if she gained so much as five extra pounds, she was expected to lose it or lose her spot in the clique.  It was cruel in hindsight, but at the time, Jamie would have rather died than lose her social standing, as that not only meant suffering Nancy’s barbs, but also reaping what she sowed in life.

For a brief minute after punching Nancy out and distancing herself from the clique, she worried that her fears would come true, but they never did.  The Queens of Devil’s Peak lost much of their power after Peggy McDonald’s death, and Jamie made sure to keep her nose clean of any further wrongdoings.  When it became clear that she would not be struck down for her act of rebellion, she finally allowed herself to enjoy things that she had never been able to before—and that started with food.  The only one to disapprove of her slack diet was her father, but he never pushed the issue far beyond the occasional remark; better to have a daughter who needed to be picked up from the ice cream parlor than the police station, after all.

Freedom bred complacency though, and it was not long before Jamie’s newfound diet led to tight clothes and stretch marks.  Without the threat of Nancy Hill to keep her in line, Jamie always put her weight to the back of her mind, certain that she would get started on a diet the following day.  If she ever did try to lose weight, it was with half-hearted attempts and half-baked ideas on how to do so, but never dipping back to the painful days of starvation and purging.  Since she had no idea how a normal person lost weight, she always gave up if she did not lose weight after a few days, her plans forgotten in favor of tasty snacks and afternoons on the couch.

Nancy’s influence still lingered in the back of her head though, and it would make itself known whenever Jamie was looking in the mirror.  It was nowhere near as horrific as the visits by Peggy, but it served as a reminder of how she had let herself go, cutting deep into her increasingly soft skin.  Those comments were her motivation to try and lose weight, but without the actual presence of Nancy around her, that influence always vanished with her meager resolve.  She knew she could stand to lose a few pounds; she just did not have the strength to see it through.

And now that she knew someone found her beautiful still, she was not sure she would need that strength again.  Will moved his powerful hands up her thigh and along her waist, gently caressing the pudge that had accumulated over the last few months and left her feeling like a marshmallow.  As she lay down on the couch, not breaking their kiss for a second, he followed suit and straddled her plump waist.  Little moans of pleasure escaped from both as they explored each other, Jamie running her hands along his firm muscles and Will squeezing along her plush physique.

“God, that feels so good,” Jamie whispered as their lips broke for air.  “You must really like this, don’t you?  All this fat?”

“Nothing cuter on a girl than a little cushion for the pushin’,” Will growled playfully.  “And full disclosure—I like my girls with a lot of cushion.”

“Oh, really?  So you think I’d still be hot if I had a big Buddha belly and thunder thighs to my knees?” asked Jamie, her tone teasing but the question genuine.

Will answered by nibbling at her shoulder.  “You’d still be hot even if you were the fattest girl in school.  If you had a belly down to your knees, hips that catch on doors, and breasts like pillows, you’d be the most beautiful woman in the world, no contest.”

Jamie’s mind was a mess of emotions, and the notion that the most sought after guy at school was into fat girls did not help her.  She could not even imagine being as big as he described: there was only one girl who did, and she was gone.  In a haze of hormones, she murmured, “If I was big as Peggy?”

That question caused Will to freeze, and he looked down at Jamie with confusion that brought her out of her fog.  Her lips flapped as she tried to form an apology, but Will put a finger to her lips and shushed her, “Don’t worry…it’s okay.  I was just thinking how you’d look in a pair of patchy overalls.”

“Not on your life,” Jamie giggled as the smile returned to her face.  “Do you want to maybe take this upstairs?  When Dallas comes on, my mother is off in her own little world.”

“I’ll do you one better: my parents are having a little ‘couples night’ with some friends, and they won’t be back until morning.  We might want a little privacy if you want me to really show you how much I like the new you,” Will cooed, tracing a finger under Jamie’s budding double chin.

After months without the company of a man, Jamie had an itch that needed a desperate amount of scratching, and she was not going to deprive herself any longer.  She rocked herself off the couch faster than she had in a long time and smoothed out her blouse before taking Will’s hand, ready to follow him wherever he wanted.  There was just one thing she needed to do before she left though.

“Mom, Will and I are going to go catch a late movie,” Jamie called out as she dashed out the door.  “I’ve got my key, so don’t wait up!”

She did not stay around to catch her mother’s reply, though it would not have made much difference since it was muffled by a mouthful of lasagna.  If Jamie had bothered to poke her head in to say goodbye, she would have seen her mother barely focused on the drama of the Ewing Family, reserving all her attention for a pile of leftovers and snacks on the coffee table in front of her.  She might have noticed that her mother’s skirt did not fit quite right around the hips, and that her top was tight around a plumper pair of breasts.  But Jamie did not bother to check, and so she unknowingly left her mother to eat herself round…

***

Jamie’s lust was strong through the ride to Will’s house, and though she kissed and pawed at him during the journey, she would have to wait until they reached their destination before she got what she wanted.  Will returned the favor as best he could while still driving, pinching along her thighs and inching his way up to her aching loins.  Jamie could not remember the last time she was so hungry for touch and affection, and now that she experienced it again, she did not want to lose it.  The drive was excruciating for her fevered mind, and it only got worse as it seemed to go on and on.

“Will, how much longer till we get there?  I need you,” Jamie whined as she ran a finger down his chest.  “Don’t you want to show me what you love about fat girls?”

“Oh, I will, but we’ve got to take a detour.  They’re doing that water main repair by my place, and it’s ** the roads up like crazy,” Will replied, returning the favor by brushing a free hand along Jamie’s love handles.  “Want me to stop at a drive-thru to tide you over?”

Jamie smirked and stuck her tongue out at the boy.  “I’m hungry for something else, thank you very much.  Besides, you may like bigger girls, but it’s not like I’m trying to gain more weight—even for a guy like you.”

Their little games continued as they drove on through Devil’s Peak, but Jamie’s lust gave way to nervousness as the buildings became sparser and trees more prevalent.  When they passed by the Hewitt’s cornfield, she knew that they were not taking a detour to Will’s house and she turned to the driver with fear in her heart.  She asked, “Will, where are we going?”

“Some place special, don’t worry,” Will answered, but Jamie could only worry as she saw a glint of something dark in his eyes.  “But I know you’re getting a little antsy, so I want to give you a little sneak preview of the night.  Go ahead and open the glove box.”

Her fingers trembled as Jamie reached out and clicked open the glove compartment in front of her, only to recoil as if a snake was hidden inside.  A bloodcurdling shriek erupted from her lips at the sight of Pig Face’s mask lying inside, peering up at her with empty eyes.  She lunged for the door handle, but Will grabbed her by the neck and pinned her against the chair with a force that could crush bones.  When he looked at her again, that dark glimmer had filled his eyes and gave him a bestial gaze, like a lion stalking its prey.

“Patience, little pig, patience,” Will hummed.  “We’re almost there.”

Jamie’s blood ran cold as she waited for what felt an eternity for their destination, and her heart sank when they finally arrived.  Will pulled his car into the dirt driveway of the McDonald Farm, where a single light beckoned them from the dark of night…

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CHAPTER 9

At any other time of day, the McDonalds’ house might have looked rustic, charming, or ‘classic Americana’ as her mother would say to gussy it up for a buyer.  It was a modest, handmade building that looked like it came from the hands of Norman Rockwell; it was a far cry from the mansions Jamie was used to, but there was a quaint elegance to it.  That was in the light of day, because when she marched up the walk in the dead of night, it was as foreboding as a mausoleum.

It did not help that Will held her shoulder so tight that she thought it would break.  All the lust and desire that had been bubbling inside her since he saved her at J.C. Penney had melted away, corroded by sickening dread that ate at her insides.  There was nothing to swoon over in him as she thought back to what had become of her former friends; her only thought was when she would meet their fate.  Visions of Heather, Marilyn, and Adrienne floated through her head, each one too fat to live and left like a beached whale in death; it was enough to make her sick, but she was too scared to breathe, much less vomit.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Will remarked as they trudged up to the porch.  “The others spent their last few minutes begging for their lives.  You’re not going to try and offer me money to spare you?”

Jamie glowered at the domineering boy and answered, “What’s the point?  You’ve done this three times already; if you wanted to stop, you would have by now.”

Will’s eyes gleamed in the dark as he said, “I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.  My path is righteous; there can be no straying from the mission given to me.”

A shiver ran down Jamie’s spine at that, and she asked, “What happened to you, Will?  You sound like a preacher talking about hellfire and brimstone.  What happened to the guy that everyone on the team wanted to be and all the cheerleaders wanted to be with?”

They paused at the top step on the porch as Will stood in quiet contemplation before answering, “The same reason you decided to stop worshipping at the altar of Nancy Hill: I was tired of being someone I’m not.  Get inside and we’ll tell you everything.”

Jamie did not have to wait long to find out who was ‘we’, because standing behind the door was Tobias McDonald, patriarch of the family.  He was a reedy man with gray stubble growing on his chin, patchwork clothes underneath a pair of overalls, and a corncob pipe stuck between his lips—the very model of a poor yokel.  His eyes were dark and beady, and they ran up and down the length of Jamie’s body, studying her like a butcher studies a slab of meat.  When he was finished with his appraisal, he let out a long puff of smoke that almost made Jamie gag.

“Took y’all long enough,” he said in a barely audible grumble.  “Ma’s getting the last fixings on the table now; wash up and meet us downstairs.”

Will nodded and guided Jamie back to the kitchen, which was the only lit room in the house as far as she could see.  The first thing she noticed was the delectable aroma that filled the room, the air thick and heavy with fried, buttery goodness that made her mouth water despite the severity of her situation.  Then came the sight of pots, pans, cups, and all manner of utensils piled up on the counter, all waiting for a chance to be cleaned and giving Jamie a small idea of just how much food waited for her.  The last thing to catch her eye was a small table sat across the room, which had four chairs in all—one on the left, one on the right, and two together against the wall.

The two chairs sat side by side were covered with a sheet, not unlike the furniture in her grandmother’s house.  Will must have caught Jamie staring, because he whispered to her, “Those were Peggy’s chairs: they still save her place at the table, even though she isn’t here anymore.”

Jamie forced down the lump in her throat and turned to face the sink to wash her hands, which shook like leaves in a storm.  As she went through the routine, she could feel Will’s eyes burning holes through her and squirmed at the thought—and not the bashful wiggling she did before.  She grunted, “What?  Can’t stop picturing how fat I’ll be when I die?”

For the first time since she found out he was Pig Face, Will let go of Jamie’s shoulder and stepped to the side.  He answered, “No…just curious.  You’re really not that scared, are you?  You haven’t put up a fight, let out a scream, or even cried since I showed you my mask.  My old man is one of the hardest SOBs I know, and even he gets scared.”

The notion was patronizing, condescending, and infuriating for Jamie, who had spent all week terrified of what had happened to the other girls.  She seethed as she scrubbed her hands, hissing, “You think I’m not scared of all this?  You’re a murderer and a psychopath—how could I not be scared?”

“Because you’ve seen worse,” Will replied, unmoved by his captive’s frustrations.  “Do you see her when you’re all alone?  Does Peggy come and see you too?”

Jamie’s hands froze for a moment before she dunked them in the sink again.  She mumbled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about; I haven’t seen Peggy since the night she died.”

“There’s no shame in admitting it.  I see her all the time; she’s the one who told me to come here, after all,” Will admitted matter-of-factly.  “It’s been hard work preparing for all this, but she would give me strength whenever I doubted myself.  She wanted to see this work done as much as I did, and she couldn’t be happier to see it through.”

Oh, good—Will was just as crazy as she was.  Jamie mulled over a response, but she had no time to think one up before Abigail McDonald appeared in the threshold.  Peggy’s mother was the exact opposite of her daughter in terms of build: small, frail, and wiry hair that she kept in a messy bun, she looked more like a grandmother than the well-kept matriarchs Jamie was familiar with.  Abigail rubbed her hands on her apron as she walked into the room, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Jamie standing by the sink.

“Oh, you must be the Myers girl,” she remarked with a raspy voice.  “William’s told us all about you, but I didn’t picture you quite so plump.  You’ve done half the work for us already; I doubt we even need any of the juice for you.”

“Juice?” Jamie asked, though she was not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Abigail waved off the question and replied, “That’s not for me to tell; Pa explains it so much better.  If y’all are ready, then march on down to the cellar so’s we can get started.”

She had no idea what Will and the McDonalds had planned for her, but Jamie had no chance of escaping from their maniacal clutches.  Even if she were still in peak shape, Will would have been able to catch her in seconds; trying to outrun him with an extra fifty pounds gave her a snowball’s chance in hell.  Her heart hung heavy as she marched back down the hall to the cellar door, where a dim light beckoned to her from the inky blackness of the house.  Imagination ran wild as she pictured what sort of fiendish torture they had in store for her and what they would do with her body afterwards, but she dutifully trudged on to what was certain doom.

At least her doom would be delicious, if the spread that awaited at the base of the steps was any indication.  It was like the Ghost of Christmas Alabama had visited, as a veritable cornucopia of Southern cooking was practically overflowing a table sat in the middle of the room.  Jamie’s stomach growled at the sight of the spread, and she could not help licking her lips as the aromas wafted across the room and tickled her nose.  She made her way to the lone chair at the table, where Tobias stood waiting to scoot her chair in and fix a napkin in her collar.  It was far more etiquette than Jamie had been expecting, as she thought some sort of Rube Goldberg-style feeding device had been waiting for her.

“These were all of Peggy’s favorites,” Abigail explained as she descended the stairs.  “Shrimp and grits, biscuits and gravy, and chicken fried steak; fried okra, fried pickles, and fried tomatoes; collared greens, pulled pork, and honey cornbread.  I’ve been slaving over this all day, so I better see plenty of clean plates now.”

“Like I have a choice,” Jamie muttered as she reached for a glass of sweet tea that sat in front of her.  She took a sip of the sugary, lemony beverage and smacked her lips when she pulled the glass away.  “Good tea though.”

“Steeped to perfection,” Abigail boasted as she took a seat on a crate next to the table.  “Honestly, I haven’t made this much food since our Peggy died; I wasn’t sure I was going to have it ready in time for you.  Oh, but you don’t want to hear about some old biddy fretting over her cooking, do you?  You’re wanting to know how this all happened.”

Jamie nodded, unable to answer verbally due to a mouthful of mac and cheese.  Tobias spoke next after dumping out the ashes from his pipe and refilling it with a fresh pinch of tobacco.  “Folks ‘round here think the McDonalds are nothing but a bunch of backwoods bumpkins, all because they can’t imagine anyone that wants to live a quiet, simple life.  Fact is we like it that way: it means we can get away with a lot more than y’all give us credit for.”

The patriarch tapped another crate with his boot as he drawled on, “Back in the day, my grandpap ran this farm, and he had a pretty steady business going up ‘til the Depression brought blight to the crops.  But Grandpap weren’t some uneducated hick; he was the most learned person in the whole county.  He got to work thinking of ways he could save his farm, and he came up with all sorts of chemicals and formulas that breathed life into his crops and gave his livestock strength when plenty of others were down and out.  Even after things turned ‘round in the country, Grandpap still kept mixing and making, and he passed that knowledge onto each McDonald after him—to my Pa, to me, and even Peggy knew a thing or two.”

“Sherioushly?” asked Jamie, her cheeks stuffed with the butteriest biscuits she had ever eaten.  Her question earned her a rap on the wrist from Abigail, who shushed the girl and shook her head for talking with food in her mouth.  Jamie meekly swallowed and cleared her throat with a gulp of tea before asking, “You’re telling me that you guys made a bunch of wonder drugs and never sold the formula?  You could have made millions!  You could have lived like royalty!”

“Don’t want to,” Tobias answered simply.  “Does all your money make you happy?”

Jamie tried to think of a rebuttal, but she thought about her entire life—her philandering father, her distant mother, and her fake friends—and realized the farmer had a point.  Humbled, she tucked back into her food, though she still kept her ears perked for the rest of the story.

“We had a simple life, but it was a good one; we never gave anybody any trouble, and we kept mostly to ourselves.  So, when my little Peggy came home from school and cried herself to sleep because kids were picking on her, you can imagine that made me a mite bit mad,” Tobias grunted, his eyes darkening even more.  “Abigail talked me out of having a talk between all your daddies and my shotgun, and we taught Peggy to be the bigger girl when it came to you harpies.  She was doing better and didn’t cry so much, but y’all couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

A lump grew in Jamie’s throat as she thought back to the night of the barn party at the start of the school year, and Tobias furrowed his brow as if he read her mind.  “When we found out that our Peggy had been invited to a party, and by the captain of the football team no less, we were over the moon for her.  Abigail took her into town to get a new dress, do up her hair, and get one of them many pedis at the salon, and she looked like a right princess.  She was the happiest we’d ever seen her, and we couldn’t wait for her to tell us all about it when we got home.  ‘Course, you know that we never saw her again after William picked her up—ain’t that right, boy?”

Jamie glanced over her shoulder at Will, who watched her like a hawk as he leaned against the cellar wall with his arms crossed like he was James Dean.  He cracked the joints in his neck before answering, “Afraid so, Mr. McDonald.”

“Pa, why don’t you sit down and let William tell his side of things?” asked Abigail as she cleared away a few of the empty plates from the table—plates that Jamie did not even realize she had finished.

Tobias nodded over to Will, who pushed himself off the wall, sauntered across the room, and pulled a crate up to the table so he could look Jamie in the eye with a smoldering gaze.  He explained, “I never told a soul about this, but Peggy McDonald was my dream girl.  What was there not to love?  She had a beautiful smile, was sharp as a tack, and generous as could be, but all you saw was a walking punchline for your jokes.  And I admit, I was a coward for not asking her out when I had the chance to; I was too afraid of what my teammates would say.  So, when Nancy told me she was done picking on Peggy and extending an olive branch by having me ask her to the party, I jumped at the chance.”

“More gravy on that steak, dear?” Abigail whispered to Jamie, who nodded and mouthed a silent thanks before returning her attention to Will.

“If I had known what Nancy had planned that night, I’d have never taken her to your damned party, but I was a fool and wanted to pretend we were a couple, even if it was only for a night,” the brooding boy recalled.  “When I found out she had killed herself, I drove here to the McDonalds to beg their forgiveness, plead my innocence, and promise them anything to help.  I worked my ass off when harvest time came around, and it was while I was working that I found out about their chemistry skills and I came up with a plan for payback.”

“Pig Face,” Jamie muttered before she took a big bite out of a corn on the cob.  “You went around filling the girls with some kind of mad scientist formula that made them too fat for their bodies to handle, all while dressed up like some kind of movie monster.  You’re absolutely demented, you know that?  You’re completely sick in the head, every one of you.”

Tobias snarled around his pipe.  “Watch your mouth, girl.  You try losing the most precious thing in your life, and then we’ll see how you react.”

Jamie’s face melted at that rebuttal, and she silently shoveled food past her lips for a moment before she worked on a better reply.  “You’re right: I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have been hurting.  But that doesn’t give you the right to become judge, jury, and executioner for all of us!  I am sorry for what happened to Peggy—I truly am—but killing me with fat won’t bring her back.”

Will smirked as he told Jamie, “Nobody said we were going to kill you.”

“Then what do you call this?” Jamie asked as she gestured to the feast in front of her.  Despite eating through Tobias and Will’s stories, she had barely made a dent in the spread.  “You put some kind of chemical in the food to make it super-addictive, and now I’m going to eat until I pop out of my clothes and my gut touches the floor or whatever.  Just promise me you won’t truss me up like you did with Adrienne, okay?  Can you at least leave me with some shred of dignity?”

Abigail patted Jamie on the shoulder and calmly instructed her, “Breathe, deary.  Tonight’s not for dying; you’d already be gone if we wanted it.”

“Fact is you’re the only one in your little gang that didn’t go out of their way to harass Peggy,” Will reminded Jamie.  “The other harlots, they fell right in lockstep with Nancy and made her life a living hell simply because they were told to.  That’s why you get to live, and that’s why you don’t get what Nancy has coming to her.”

Before Jamie could ask what Will meant by that, the boy got up from the table and walked to a closet door across the room.  He opened it up to reveal none other than Nancy Hill tied to a chair and looking the worst she ever had.  Her blonde hair hung greasy and limp like wet spaghetti, and her designer clothes were torn, dirtied, and stained all over.  Tanned skin had grown pale and pasty, ruby lips turned chapped and bruised, and sharp cheeks were smeared with caked makeup.  She was in such a state that she did not even react when she saw Jamie, only lolling her head from side to side and mumbling under her breath.

“Jesus Christ, what did you people do to her?” asked Jamie, who dropped her fork for the first time since she entered the cellar.

“Mind the Lord’s name, child,” Abigail gently chided the girl.  “And we’ve done nothing to her as yet, though the temptation is strong.  She got a little bruised up when we collected her from her house, but she fared far better than her parents; they’re still waiting to be found.”

“I…I thought they were in the Caymans this week,” Jamie murmured, unable to take her eyes off Nancy as Will dragged her out into the room.

“I took care of them before they could leave,” Will explained after setting Nancy down.  “If anyone asks, it looks like Mr. and Mrs. Hill went to the garage to end it all by running the motor with the door shut.  Tragic, really.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Jamie asked, breath caught in her throat.

“The same thing we did to all the others, only much, much worse,” answered Will as he pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed Nancy in the neck.  “Because this little piggy gets none…”

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29 minutes ago, Batman76 said:

Okay, damn. Jamie is probably getting out of this alive then...although its extra sad about what happened to Peggy.

Every time we learn something new about that night, it only makes it worse.  If there's any small silver lining, it's that she gets to live rent-free in Jamie's mind now.

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CHAPTER 10

Though she had never been privy to the initial injection, Jamie had seen the effects of that drug first hand when Heather gorged herself on all the food available in the mall and turned into a prize-winning hog.  She had to imagine the same drug was given to Marilyn and Adrienne, considering they were three times their normal weight when they were discovered.  The feast spread out in front of her made sense now: there was not enough for her alone, but with a ravenous Nancy, the McDonalds might not have enough.  But then again, Will had said ‘this little piggy gets none’, as if this was some kind of nursery rhyme and not playing with peoples’ lives, so Jamie had no idea what to think.

There was a heavy stillness in the air as everyone waited for the drug to take effect, but when it did, Nancy shot upright in her chair and swiveled her head around to get her bearings.  Her green eyes were wide and full of anger as she glared at the McDonalds and spat, “You goddamn hick psychopaths!  I’m going to make you wished you joined your cow of a daughter in Hell by the time I’m through with you!  I’ll rally the whole town and we’re going to tear you limb from limb, you hear me?!”

Her attention then centered on Jamie, and the anger gave way to shock before melting into Nancy’s best attempt at fear and begging.  “Jamie, oh thank God you’re here.  You’ve got to help me get out of here, please—they’ve had me tied up in that room for days, and they killed my parents!  You were always the smart one; I’m sure you’ve got some plan for getting us out of here.”

Before Jamie could answer her former leader, Will spoke up for her and told Nancy, “She’s not here to save you, even if she could; she’s an audience to your execution, Lilith, Mother of Demons.”

“Fuck you, you limp-dicked piece of shit,” Nancy hissed at the boy she used to chase.  “Do you know who I am?  I’m Nancy Hill, and I run this town!  You want to preach hellfire and brimstone?  I will bring down so, so much worse on you.”

Unfazed, Will gestured to the table of food and said, “Every prisoner is entitled to a last meal, and we make no exception for you.  Wouldn’t you like some honey-glazed ham, collared greens, and mac and cheese?  You haven’t had a bite to eat since we brought you here.”

“No, I don’t want your fucking…uh, your fuck…your food,” Nancy murmured, her anger fading as her attention became solely focused on the feast in front of her.  Jamie recognized the glazed look that filtered into her leader’s eyes—it was the same one that overtook Heather at the mall.  She could only imagine the intense hunger that was building up inside the demonic girl, and she could hear Nancy’s binds creak as she tried to free herself.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Will asked as he wafted up some of the delectable aromas.  “All that fried goodness, so rich and savory…there’s nothing else like it.  Don’t you want some?”

Saliva pooled at the corner of her lips as Nancy struggled against the ropes, tugging and straining to get free but only succeeding in drawing them tighter around her hands and feet.  She growled, “God, it does smell good.  Please, if there’s anything human in you, let me have some.  Just a few bites, that’s all I need.”

“Would you do anything to eat this?  What if I said that the only way you could eat is if we killed your friends—Heather, Marilyn, and Adrienne?  Would it still be worth it then?” Will devilishly hummed as he circled around Nancy like a hungry shark.  “What if Jamie had to die so you could eat?  Would you still eat everything on the table?”

“I don’t give a shit about any of them, just let me have something to eat,” Nancy pleaded, veins popping in her throat as she strained every muscle in her body to get free.

Jamie knew that Nancy would always sell her out if push came to shove, but it did not make the sting hurt any less.  Her eyes dipped down to the chicken ** pie in front of her and she glumly scooped up forkful after forkful of the creamy pie.  A pat on the shoulder from Abigail did little to console her, and she sniffled back a tear as she ate her way through another dish.

“That’s the Nancy Hill I know—she’d give up her own parents if she’d get anything out of it,” Will chuckled as he walked behind Nancy and yanked her hair back with such force that he nearly ripped it from her scalp.  “Unfortunately, none of this food is for you; that’s your punishment.  The chemical you’ve been injected with is a very potent and fickle thing, since it instantly turns any calories consumed into fat—but only if the subject actually eats.  If they don’t start eating something within a few minutes of injection, the chemical starts to break down and wreak havoc on the body’s fat cells.”

“What kind of havoc?” asked Jamie before filling her cheeks with a thick, heavily buttered slice of cornbread and chasing it with a gulp of sweet tea.

“You’ll find out in just a minute, I reckon,” Tobias grunted as he checked a pocket watch.  “I don’t think this girl’s got much left in her.  The longest I ever saw it take was about five minutes on a full grown sow, so she can’t be far behind.”

Nancy gritted her teeth but still threw on her best attempt at a smile, which only made Jamie more disconcerted.  She begged her former accomplice, “Jamie, come on…we’re old friends, aren’t we?  Please, just give me a spoonful—one bite!  Don’t let them do this, please!”

Jamie paused, a forkful of pulled pork and coleslaw on its way to her mouth, and she set the fork down as she glowered at Nancy from across the table.  When this week of terror started with Heather calling her, there was a drive to help to prevent any further tragedy; when she arrived too late to help Heather, that drive grew stronger and she tried to rally the others to stay safe.  Yet, when she was confronted with the very real possibility of Nancy dying, she did not feel that same urge to save and protect.  The only thing she felt was pure apathy—a void where her heart should be.

“You know what, Nancy?  If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate to help you out.  When Heather told me someone was stalking her at the mall, I ran right over; when I figured we were in trouble, I got Adrienne and we tried to save Marilyn.  But when I look at you there, tied up and begging for help, I think of all the horrible things you did to get what you want and all the things you had us do to anyone that dared cross you.  I see you there, and I think that if anyone deserves this, it’s you,” Jamie told her former leader with a frigid glare before finishing her forkful of barbeque and slaw.  “When I punched you out, I told you to eat shit and die.  I’m glad that at least one of those things will happen tonight, and I can’t wait to see what that juice does to you.”

Nancy winced as though she had been slapped in the face, but her shock quickly gave way to an unbridled rage that few had ever seen before.  Her face turned purple as the blood rushed to her head, and her shrieking was so sharp that Abigail had to plug her ears.  “You worthless cunt!  This is what I get for making you who you are?!  I should have slit your throat when you punched me!  You better give me some goddamn food before I—”

The threat remained unfinished as Nancy collapsed in her seat, her teeth clenched so tight that her head felt ready to burst and her nails digging into her hands deep enough to draw blood.  When she looked back up, her pupils were so wide that her irises all but vanished and a trickle of blood ran from her nose.  There was something else off about her, but it was not until Jamie squinted her eyes that she could identify the cause through the dim light of the cellar.  Nancy’s skin was rippling and bubbling as though something underneath was trying to come out.

Before Jamie could ask what they were waiting for, Nancy threw her head back and howled like a mad dog as her body exploded with fat.  It was like a cartoon where a character was stuck to a helium tank or became engorged on water, except all too real and all too grotesque.  Nancy’s cheeks swelled outwards and downwards, giving her the visage of a chubby bulldog, and her neck inflated like a pool ring until it connected with her torso.  What little was left of her neck was swallowed up by fat forming on her shoulders, gobbling up space until her round head looked like it was sat atop a bed of frosting.  Fat shoulders led to fat arms that grew as wide as her thighs, then her waist, and soon became as wide around as the potato sacks in the corner of the cellar.

Perky tits that she loved to flaunt grew like water balloons, filling with flab until they lost the fight with gravity and sagged down on either side of her stomach.  That stomach billowed out like a hot air balloon from her waist, flopping onto her lap before rolling out to her thighs, then her knees, and finally drooping down between her legs to touch the floor.  Her legs grew thick and wide, cramming up against each other and pooling over the sides of the chair until they could have been used as arm rests themselves.  Flab rolled over her knees and onto chunky calves that were as wide as ham hocks, so much so that a single inch of gap remained between her legs.

The chair did not last long under the rapid escalation in weight, and the chair legs splintered in another minute, sending the helpless blob to the ground.  Even if Nancy had control over her body still, she could not make her escape as she planned; there was far too much mass and far too little muscle to get herself off the floor.  As such, all she could do was sink into herself as though she were drifting in a pool of pudding—except she was the pool and there was no way out.

Crashing onto the dirt floor might have hurt, were it not for her ass growing so large that each cheek was the size and shape of a beanbag chair.  Her torso became so full of fat all over that she looked like a giant beach ball, and her arms were lifted up by the mass building up on her sides.  While her clothes did their best to keep her decent, they were no match for the sheer amount of blubber filling her up, and there was a tidal wave of pudge when the designer threads gave away.  Rags and scraps were all that remained of an outfit that cost a fortune, and what was left clinging to her body was swallowed up in the many rolls she accumulated.

Nancy grew fatter than the other girls combined, swelling up so much that her girth actually lifted her off the ground, but her body did not stop there.  It packed on fat wherever it could: her face was consumed with flab from her cheeks nose, and even her forehead; her fingernails and toenails popped free as her digits grew thicker than bratwurst; her ears became so round that they looked like corks and served a similar purpose in blocking out noise.  In a matter of minutes, she went from modelesque looks to something that barely resembled a human, and the only way to tell she was still living under that mountain of mass was the raspy breathing that eked through the two plump rolls that used to be her lips.  Even that came to a stop soon, as Will held a mirror up to what was left of her face and not a single bit of fog formed on it.

“And that is that,” the killer grunted as he prodded Nancy’s body.  “She’s easily three times Peggy’s weight; I just wish she could have seen it happen.”

Jamie, for her part, was doing her best not to vomit on the spot.  A wave of nausea ran through her body as she took in the sight of what had once been Nancy Hill, the most feared girl in Devil’s Peak, now little more than a pile of dough.  It was not for sympathy or sorrow for her former leader, but disgust in the most sickening thing she had seen since dissecting frogs in biology class.  It was almost enough to stop her from eating, but she still managed to pick up her spoon and tuck into a bowl of banana pudding without much trouble.

“So, what happens now?” she asked her captors as Will and the McDonalds returned their attention to her.  “If you’re not going to kill me, what are you going to do?”

“We’re not doing anything to you, girl,” Abigail replied as she collected more empty plates from the table.  “Fact is, you were the only one of them she-devils to not torture our daughter; that counts for something in my book.”

“But only so much,” Tobias chimed in as he relit his pipe.  “You could’ve warned her about that prank, but you didn’t; you might not have been actively involved, but you sure weren’t helping things.”

Jamie swallowed the last of the banana pudding and asked, “Is all this food tainted, and I’m going to leave here a hundred pounds heavier or something?”

Will pulled up a crate and rested his elbows on the table as he answered, “No, Jamie, there’s nothing wrong with that food.  You’re already doing a good job of eating yourself into obesity, so why bother messing with a good thing?”

“If it’s not tainted, then how come I can’t stop eating?” Jamie grunted as she filled her mouth with a forkful of collards.  “You must have put something in here!”

“There’s nothing in there but hard work,” Abigail explained.  “The only one making you eat is you, girl—no one else.  If you really wanted to stop, you could, but you won’t; you don’t have the self-control anymore, if you ever did.”

Jamie opened her mouth to protest, but she found herself cramming in biscuit soaked in sausage gravy before any words came out.  Still, she knew in her heart that she was not some out of control eater; she could wrangle in her appetite and stop whenever she wanted!  Now that this nightmare was over, she was going to regain some control of her life and get back on the right track, starting with a good diet and plenty of exercise.

“What a joke,” Peggy chuckled as she waddled into view, causing Jamie to almost choke on her biscuit.  “You never had any self-control before; you just traded cigarettes and booze for cake and ice cream.  Face it, Jamie—you’re a fat girl at heart.”

“Totally,” Heather purred as she plodded up to Jamie and guided her hand towards a basket of fried pickles.  “She likes to tell herself that Nancy was the one making her do everything, but we all know that she enjoyed every bit of it.”

“Can’t believe you thought you were so much better than us,” Marilyn chuckled as she watched Jamie helplessly stuff her face until her cheeks bulged full.  “Look at you—disgusting.”

“Be nice, girls,” Adrienne cooed, appearing behind Jamie and resting her massive bosom on her former accomplice’s shoulders.  “Maybe this time will be different; maybe she’ll prove us all wrong and show us she’s not some craven, addicted loser.  But I doubt it.”

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” Jamie whimpered through stuffed cheeks.  “I’m not a fat pig…I’m not.  I can stop whenever I want to!”

Despite her assertions, the bulbous brunette could not keep herself from eating everything down to the last drop and crumb.  Where once lay a feast that could have fed a family reunion now lay empty dishes and one very bloated girl who was too stuffed to even think, much less move.  Jamie’s arms felt like sandbags at her side, and she slumped over in her chair, her chin resting inches from her bosom and her belly so full that it seemed to glow red.  She did not notice when Will and the McDonalds left, only realizing they were gone when she finally woke from her fitful slumber.

The cellar was empty, save for herself and the table; everything else, from Nancy’s body to the crates of chemicals, were gone.  Jamie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and realized that the table had been cleared of all dishes and utensils, and a card was left in their place.  Bleary-eyed, she opened it and found it to be from Will:

“Jamie…by the time you read this, we’ll be long gone.  We’ve dumped Nancy’s body in the pigsty out back, where she belongs.  I left my truck for you to get yourself home.  Don’t try and find us…we’re leaving Devil’s Peak and never coming back.  You wonder why we didn’t kill you, but you already know the answer…you’re already punishing yourself.  You’ll eat yourself as fat as any of your friends, but it’ll be a slow burn, growing over months and years until you’re too fat to walk.  Maybe you’ll slow down one day…maybe you’ll even stop…but we both know it won’t last long.  You’re a fat girl now, Jamie, and you always will be.  Now go, little piggy, and cry wee-wee-wee all the way home.”

Jamie tore the note up as hot tears ran down her chubby cheeks until she had none left to cry.  She slumped up the stairs, her gait slow and plodding as she managed around a belly that was still achingly full, and she had to stop for air when she got to the top.  How long would it be until she was too big for stairs?  When would she need a motorized scooter like one of those old women that were wider around than they were tall?  Those and dozens of other questions buzzed around her head as she made her way out the door and to the waiting truck, which still had the keys sitting on the front seat.

All she wanted to do was sleep when she got home—sleep and never wake up—but Jamie’s mind was too wired as she drove through the countryside.  One hand stayed on the steering wheel while the other nursed her tender stomach, rubbing gentle circles on it to try and soothe the pain that shot through every time she hit a bump in the road.  She could not believe she managed to eat so much food without being drugged, but she knew deep down that what Will said was true—she was a glutton at heart.  There was no one making her eat but herself, and if she wanted to blame anyone for getting fat, it was the girl in the rearview mirror.

“Why don’t you stop for breakfast?  Gotta start your day off right,” Jamie drawled in a nasally, Southern voice.  “You already ruined that by sleeping in that chair all night.”

“I’m too full, Peggy,” she groaned to her reflection.  “Can’t we just get some sleep?”

“Not yet, Jamie,” the girl in the mirror chuckled.  “Piggy’s still got some room…”

THE END

((All right, people, that's a wrap!  Thank you to everyone who's followed this story through to the end.  It was a real change of pace for me and the darkest story I've written, but I hope that you enjoyed it all the same.  Stay tuned for the next project, because I've got plenty more surprises coming up!))

5LP_Kynes.png

((Also, check out this awesome poster done up by CSM-Kynes!))

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