# Trick of the Mind Parts 1-9 - By Snorri Sturluson (~BBW, ~XWG)



## Snorri Sturluson (Aug 9, 2007)

_~BBW, Intrigue, Feeding Machine ~XWG_ &#8211; A top scientist becomes target of a bizarre experiment 

* Trick of the Mind
 Parts 1 - 9
* *by Snorri Sturluson
Inspired by Mr. Monopoly's Cube Course *​
*Author's Note:* A bit darker than my other stories (which I still plan on finishing someday). Personally, I've never seen _The Cube_ or all of _Saw_, which inspired Mr. Monopoly's story, but I do love Psychological Science Fiction.

*Part 1*

“Wake-y wake-y little miss Jane-y.”

Jane jumped, tangling herself in the bed sheets. Once she extracted herself she sat perfectly still and listened. That was the first sound she had heard (assuming she hadn’t imagined it) since she found herself in that concrete room. The light never went out, there was no sound, nothing even to indicate that she wasn’t the last living thing in the world (or that the world even still existed). She waited but heard nothing else.

“Hello?” she tried, tentatively, amazed at how odd her own voices sounded after having not been used in so long.

“Hello,” a female voice said.

Jane looked around the room furiously but no one was there. She had made a thorough search of the room when she had first woken up in it but had found nothing other than the sheets from her own bed, the light bulb that hung from the ceiling, and the door. She was sure there were no speakers around. But then again, there was no bathroom and she had never seen a scrap of food in her time there, yet neither had been a problem.

“Who are you?” Jane asked.

“Please call me Desirae.” Turning her head, Jane couldn’t figure out from which direction the voice was coming from.

“Where am I?”

“Someplace safe. Don’t worry; you will be well taken care of.”

“Why am I here?”

“Oh Jane, why do you think?”

“I’m not going to tell you anything about my research!”

“No silly girl.” 

Jane flinched at being called a girl. 

“I don’t need you to tell me anything about your research. You see, I already know it all. Human photosynthesis, energy to matter conversion, everything. You are quite the genius but that isn't it. Think harder.”

She didn’t believe the voice; the best and brightest in her fields barely understood her research. But if it wasn’t her research…

“Think!” The voice was becoming angry. “Think you stupid girl!”

“I don’t know,” Jane shouted back.

“It is because of you that I am never allowed outside. Well, now you are trapped inside. How does it feel?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about; I don’t know who you are or what you want. Please, just let me go.”

The voice didn’t say anything else and after several hours of pacing around the room, banging on the door occasionally, Jane went to sleep.

***

It wasn't that the police had given up on Jane Weston's disappearance, Charles knew that. It was that after a month of investigating the matter with out even the hint of progress they were exhausting their options. That was why one of Charles' contacts at the station sent him what files the police had gathered. It was slightly surreal for him to read the report of his own questioning; as Charles had dated Jane some time ago he was an early suspect in her disappearance.

Charles knew he was in a particularly bad mood, a mood brought about the results of his own investigation. As a private investigator he had methods that the police weren't comfortable with but, like them, he had come up empty handed.

By all appearances, Jane had simply left her lab one day and never came back. By all appearances and accounts, she left work, got in her car, and drove off. She never made it to her apartment and her car had yet to be found.

For all anyone knew, she had just randomly decided to move somewhere else. Loosing a Nobel-laureate, however, did not look good to the University or to the city.

***

Jane had come to measure time by the growth of her hair. She had liked to keep it cropped short; less of a distraction and waste of time in the morning. It was already long enough to reach just above her neck.

Almost everyday now the voice talked with her for a few minutes. Almost every day their discussion ended with the voice being angry that Jane had no idea who Desirae was or how Jane had wronged her.

Today was a little different. "Good morning Jane."

Jane had been pacing the room for what seemed like hours, trying to apply her mind to figuring out a way to escape with no luck. "So it is morning?

Desirae giggled. "Well, it is morning somewhere in the world, it might even be morning here, but you don't need to know one way or the other. Maybe if you showed some manners I might be more indulgent with your wants, however. It is good form to respond in kind when someone wishes you a good morning."

"Fine. Good evening, or whatever time it is."

"Good show."

"When are you going to let me out of here?" Jane asked, a little afraid. Desirae had always stopped talked when she asked to be let go. It wasn't much, but talking to the voice did help pass the time.

"You've been free to leave whenever you wanted."

"What? The door's been locked!"

"Nope, never once. It doesn't even have a latch, go look."

Jane went over and pushed the door. Sure enough, it swung open with no problem. She stepped back and the door swung in the opposite direction like those doors in restaurants that lead to the kitchen.

"You've blocked it somehow!"

There was a hint of amusement in Desirae's voice. "No, though I doubt you'll believe me."

"It's always been locked when I've tried before."

"Again, no. Perhaps you had a guilty conscience that didn't let you open it?"

"Whatever." Jane stepped out the door and found herself in a larger room, though this one was decorated with hundred of roses. Upon closer inspection, Jane found them to be chocolate roses, the sort available in stores around Valentine’s Day. Ignoring them, she strode across the room to the other door and pushed on it. It didn't budge.

"I thought you said I was free to go."

"You are."

"This door is locked too, or are you telling me a sense of guilt is holding me back again?"

"Oh no," Desirae said, "the door is locked but the key is right in front of you so I didn't think that counted."

Jane looked at the door and saw that a small computer screen and number pad had been built in. The screen displayed the images of five dice with a title at the top that said _Petals around the Roses._

"That," Desirae continued, "is a little bit of a thinking game. Surely it shouldn't prove more than a formality for you. Whenever you hit enter, the dice will roll and you will have to give the appropriate answer. The name of the game is important, the answer is always zero or an even number, and you must be correct on ten consecutive answers, to prove that you have solved the problem and are not just lucky. Additionally, do you see the chocolate roses around the room? Every time you get an answer wrong, you will have to eat the difference between your answer and the correct one in flowers."

"No way - I won't do it."

"You really don't have a choice but feel free to test me."

"And why should I play at all?"

"You know the room you came from and you are free to look around this one. The only way out is through that door."

Figuring it would take all of five minutes to figure out the answer, Jane sighed and began. She hit enter on the number pad and the dice spun for a moment. New pips came up. 5, 4, 5, 1, 2. With nothing to base her answer on, Jane typed in 10 and hit enter.

"Sorry, the correct answer is 8. At least there are only two for you to eat."

Jane ignored the voice and looked at the new pips. 6, 6, 5, 1, 1. She put in her answer but nothing happened. "As I said, you have to eat the difference."

***

Charles had to call in quite a few favors in order to get access to Jane's financial records, during which even more time had passed. If she had been kidnapped or hurt it was almost assured that she was dead now. Still, many kidnappers had a desire for attention and the lack of any evidence was actually the closest thing to good news he had to offer those who asked. Her financial records might offer a hint as to if she had planned her own disappearance; traveling required money and if the government and businesses did one thing right it was to track money.

Unfortunately, the closest thing to odd that he had found in her financial records was the occasional trip to a local buffet; hardly the sort of food that one would expect a genius to be eating.

Jane had apparently been quite dutiful in her investments. An impressive stock portfolio, mutual funds, even rental properties across the nation. Her salary as a Professor and researcher was fairly modest -- most of the funding was directed towards research instead of pay -- but she had done quite well with what she had.

Charles hated to admit it but he might never find out what happened to Jane.

She had disappeared long enough ago that the shock and urgency had worn off. Taking a bit of a break, he leaned back and thought of those months when they had dated. He had been Jane's first boyfriend. She usually didn't have time for relationships and few men were comfortable being overshadowed like that.

Closing his eyes, Charles imagined what she had looked like when they first met. She was a fair five feet tall, no inches, with hair cropped so close to her head that he had thought she was military at first. Some people have a particular style of dress, but Jane's style was more of a lack. She wore loose black pants and a size-too-large blouse every day; indeed, her wardrobe was filled with nothing else. She said it was so she didn't have to waste thought power deciding what to wear.

For a researcher she wasn't bad looking, she tried to keep herself as health as she could without going very far out of her way to exercise or eat right. She considered such things important but couldn't really focus on it.

Curiously, after the two had broken up Charles never dated someone that thin again. He defined it as liking "bad girls," someone who didn't care about consequences (such as of being overweight).

***

"I'm sorry Jane, I didn't think it would be that difficult for you."

Jane knew Desirae was lying, why else would she have put the puzzle there in the first place.

Jane also knew she was sick of chocolate, something she hadn't thought possible. It might as well have been a week as a month; her hair was now down to her shoulders. Still she hadn't cracked the code but she had a feeling she was getting close. Using shards of chocolate flowers, Jane had filled the walls with complex equations and records of previous tries. The best she had gotten to, however, was a winning streak of 6 correct answers.

Her body, however, was loosing. Jane estimated she must easily be eating a hundred or more chocolate flowers every day; the number had been much less at first. She had hoped that perhaps after she had eaten every flower in the room she would win by default, but ever day it looked like there were just as many as before. Somehow they were getting into the room but Jane was sleeping in front of the door and never woke when it was done.

Her stomach, once only hinting at being pudgy, was putting strain on her blouse, which had already been a size too large. Her black pants were stretched tight, the seams straining with every movement, and if it hadn’t been for modesty Jane would have discarded them. Her breasts, never an object of pride for her, were doing their best to pull her blouse apart as well. Unfortunately, without the aid of a mirror she couldn’t see her face.

Leaving the computer terminal in disgust, Jane wandered around the room, looking over her notes, and munching on the chocolate that she had to eat before she could progress.

“I’ll give you a hint; it really isn’t as complex as all this,” Desirae said 

Jane couldn’t see how it could not be complex; there was no simple mathematical equation that would solve something like—

“Oh it _can’t_ be this easy…” She ran over to the terminal and stuffed the rest of the chocolate down. 1, 1, 3, 2, 4. “One,” she said to herself. Correct. 3, 6, 4, 5, 1. “Six.” Correct.

In a minute she blew through the puzzle. “See,” Desirae chimed in, “it was easy!”

“It was misleading! You knew I’d over think the problem, didn’t you?!”

“I suspected.”

Pushing the door open, Jane was endlessly glad to be rid of that room, though she suspected she wasn’t free yet. The door led to a terribly small hallway that led to her right and ended in another door. The walls were close enough together that she had to sidle along, her stomach touching the wall in front of her and her rear brushing the wall behind. The door opened into the hall, making it difficult to squeeze herself into the next room.

Like the other rooms thus far, this room was also concrete. It was divided in two by what appeared to be a thick glass or plastic panel, reaching from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. On the far half of the room there was a door leading out, presumably into another hallway. In the clear panel there was another door with a metal lock. There were also two chairs in the room, one in the center of each side. A young college-aged woman was sitting in &#8211; no, Jane realized, strapped to &#8211; the far chair, a gas-mask like device covering her face with a tube reaching up into the ceiling.

Running to the panel, Jane hit her fists against it, trying to get the woman’s attention. The woman’s head rolled a bit so she was looking at Jane but her eyes were closed.

“What are you doing to her?”

“Oh nothing much, she was just hungry. Now,” Desirae continued before Jane could speak up, “I am sure you want to continue your journey to freedom. There is a slight problem, however. The door in the middle of the room is locked, an oversight on my part I assure you. Fortunately, there are two ways to open the door. The first and simplest is that it is activated by a pressure plate underneath the woman. Her name is Anne, by the way. Unfortunately, she seems to be so malnourished that she doesn’t weigh enough to activate it. It is lucky, then, that I am feeding her so well.”

Jane noticed that Anne’s stomach had an unhealthy swollen look to it. “You’re going to kill her!”

“Nonsense,” Desirae said. “She can take off the mask any time she wants… wait… oh dear, it looks like someone has strapped her hands down. I can’t turn off the flow as long as the mask it attached and I am not ready to let you see me just yet. Oh well. She might die, but the pump will fill her corpse enough to trigger the pressure plate.”

Jane could feel her stomach heaving at the thought; she felt like she was going to throw up.

“But as I said, there are two ways to open the door. The other way is for someone on the other side to open it for you. Anne, I am sure, would be happy to help you, but as you can see she is a bit busy right now. Once the holding tank is empty of food, it will release her straps and she will be free to move about. I am afraid it doesn’t look like she will last that long, however. It is a large tank and she is a small thing. There are two outlets, though. She is attached to one, the other leads to the chair on your side of the room. I am afraid the only way to activate it is to strap yourself in as well.”

“So then I’ll die too?”

“Jane, Jane, Jane.” She could imagine Desirae shaking her head. “If I thought it would kill you I wouldn’t have suggested it. Of course, I have been wrong before. Regardless, I will leave the choice to you. You can do nothing, in which case Anne _will_ die, but on the bright side you will then be able to continue on. Or you can strap yourself in. You _might_ die, but if you succeed you will be able to continue on and you will have saved Anne’s life. But you should decide quickly, I am not sure how much longer she can last. It looks like she has already been topped off.”

It was an obvious ploy, Desirae seemed to be maneuvering Jane to gain weight of her own volition… to an extent at least. Still, a life was a life and so Jane strode over and sat down. A mask like Anne was wearing lowered from the ceiling and Jane put it on. As soon as she had done so straps shot out of the chair and tied her down. Jane knew this would happen, but the manner in which it occurred did surprise her. Within seconds she could feel a tube snake its way pass her teeth, down her throat, and she supposed it came to rest in her stomach. A few minutes passed before she could feel herself becoming full.

“Oh, I forgot to mention something. The tank is constantly being refilled, albeit slowly. All things considered, I think you will be making headway against it, but with sleep and the sort the progress won’t be very much.”

Jane tried not to think about that.

***

Charles was moving offices. Though he had some set backs over the last few years, he had been mostly a successful private investigator and found that he needed to expand. A large building was already set up, along with a secretary and information specialist on retainer, he only had to clean up here.

All in all, things were going well. He had started dating a new lady last month, shortly after he had closed Jane’s case for lack of leads. She was just his style; a little too close to the edge for most of society. She liked to eat (and over did it more often than not), worked as a bounty hunter (which is actually how they met), and was fast by most standards. The relationship had no hope of lasting, but it was fun for now.

He pulled open another filing drawer and started moving the cases into a box. On a whim he stopped and flipped through Jane’s file. Scattering the documents across the desk he took a nostalgic look over everything. By a bit of luck Jane’s pay stub from the university was next to a deposit slip from her bank. Charles noticed that the amount deposited was ten dollars less than it should have been. Sorting through years worth of stubs, he found that at least once every year ten dollars went missing. Once, it might have been a bank error. Twice, that is unlikely but explainable. This had been going on for years.

Charles reached for his phone and called up his lady-friend to call of that night’s “dinner in bed.” It wasn’t much of a lead, it might be a dead end, but it was something.

_Story continued in post 11 of this thread_


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## Snorri Sturluson (Aug 9, 2007)

Since I have been bad about completing stories, I just wanted to let anyone who is interested know that this story is actually totally planned out this time, so there is a good chance I might actually finish it in reasonably soon. I would have waited till it was done to post, but things have been quite in the library the last few days so...


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## Sparrow (Aug 10, 2007)

AAAARGH! This is just like watching Lost. I get really involved in the plot, and then the end credits start rolling. I have to know what happens next!


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## lizzy (Aug 10, 2007)

Great work and it does remind me a lot of Saw and Cube. I hope you'll be writing a continuation soon.


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## JP. (Aug 11, 2007)

Ooh nice. This is just my kind of story.


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## caffiene (Aug 13, 2007)

good stuff man, I wasn't expecting to like it but I really do. Can't wait for the next chapter.

And hey, what's the trick/formula for that number game in the first room? I've been trying to figure it out and it's driving me nuts.


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## Snorri Sturluson (Aug 13, 2007)

Glad people like it. I am working on the next installment, though the next week is terribly busy so I have no idea when it will be ready.

Caffiene, that number game actually exists; I'd recommend giving it a go yourself before getting the solution. You can find a version (there are several) here. If you want the answer, wikipedia has it here.

I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but at the same time I think that the tradition of not revealing the answer is a silly one, so I will let you be the judge of if you truly want to know.


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## Scx (Aug 16, 2007)

_1, 1, 3, 2, 4. “One,”_

Wouldn't this be 'Two'?  

_Scx_


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## ZosofanCMR (Aug 24, 2007)

MORE!

I can't wait to read what happens next


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## Sparrow (Aug 26, 2007)

I'm really looking forward to reading the next installment, Snorri. You are a great writer.


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## Snorri Sturluson (Aug 30, 2007)

*Part Two

*The first sign Jane had that something was happening was the fact that she could think. Within hours of having first sat down in the chair, she had been in a haze. The pain from a nearly too full stomach was almost enough to push her over into unconsciousness  sometimes it did  and so she had spent the subsequent days (or months, she wasnt sure) unable to think, unaware of anything other than the pain in her stomach and the tube in her mouth that made it worse.

Without opening her eyes she tried to lift a hand. The strap was still there, but her arm brushed it aside and a soft plop told her it had fallen to the floor. Tentatively, still with her eyes closed, she tried to remove the mask. As soon as her hands touched it, the device fell away.

Jane knew she was either free because she had saved the other woman (she had trouble thinking well enough to remember her name) or because the woman had died. Jane didnt know enough about anatomy to guess what the room might look like if the worst had happened. Still, she couldnt wait forever. Tentatively, delaying as she could, Jane cracked one eye. Anne stood on the other side of the plastic, waving at her, smiling.

Jane tried to jump from the chair, but only managed to half-stand before she fell forward. Anne rushed to the door and opened it, but before she stepped through Jane croaked, Stop!

Pushing herself up, Jane couldnt help but notice that there was significantly more to her than the last time she was aware. Even when she was on her hands and knees, her breasts and stomach brushed the floor. Curiously, her blouse was still holding; buttons, seams, even the weave of the cloth all seemed to be strained well past their limit. She suspected that it wasnt the same blouse she had been captured in. Standing up, she noticed her pants had fared poorly, though not due to weight. It looked like someone had cut her out of them, leaving only the most embarrassingly small shreds for modesty.

Are you alright?

Jane nodded. Just not used to the extra weight. But dont help me; knowing Desirae, if that door closes well have to go through that again.

Desirae? Anne asked.

Whoever it was that kidnapped us.

Youve talked with her?!

Yeah, you havent?

Nope. I was just minding my own business, worrying about classes and all, and suddenly I woke up here.

Steadying herself against the plastic wall, Jane looked at her faint reflection. Her hair was nearly halfway down her back, cascading around her now very round shoulders. Months must have passed while she was in that chair. There was more to see, but Jane couldnt bring herself to look longer.

Anne, on the other hand, looked the same as the day Jane entered the room. Walking unsteadily through the now open door, her legs unaccustomed now to any movement (let alone carrying such a weight), she asked about it.

Dunno, Anne answered. Ive always had a fast metabolism. But if this person has been talking to you then maybe youre the reason were here and I am just the sideshow.

Desirae, are you still here? Jane asked. Silence followed. Shell be around soon I suspect. Chances are well find another room after this one. She headed towards the door.

Wait! That direction leads to a dead-end; that is where I came from.

It cant, I came from the other direction. We had to get in here somehow and this is the only direction left.

Giving Jane a once over, Anne said, If you dont mind, Ill go check that direction. You look like youre in no condition to go far on your own, so stay here and Ill come back as soon as I can. Before Jane could object Anne was out the other door.

Do you think she is telling the truth?

Desirae!

The voice giggled. Correct. I must say, I thought youd be done long before now. My calculations cut things a little too thin. The voice laughed again.

Is there a way out? Jane asked, not really expecting a truthful answer.

Of course. It isnt like I built this place around you just _for_ you. So I will ask again, do you think she is telling the truth?

Why?

No reason, just trying to pass the time. Youll be out soon, after all, so I should enjoy your company while I can.

Somehow I think we have different definitions of soon, you and I.

True. Still, dont you think it is a little odd that she didnt gain any weight?

You rigged it so Id doubt her, so that Id think she was in league with you. If she really was, why would you want to help me figure it out?

Unless I knew that youd trust her if I told you not to.

Youre sick.

Probably, but I know you better than you do, so what does that say about your character? Regardless, youll just have to figure out many wheels within wheels Ive set into motion on your own.

Jane leaned against a wall while waiting for Anne to return; standing was terribly exhausting and she wasnt sure if it was from lack of use over who-knew-how-long or from the extra weight. As Anne returned, it occurred to Jane that it was odd that Desirae didnt respond when Anne was in the room and that she quit talking before she returned.

Sorry for not believing you, Anne said.

Its alright, though I hope you wont hold it against me for not believing you either. Jane inclined her head towards the other door.

Not like we have much of a choice. After you.

The door seemed a bit stiff as Jane opened it and she wondered just how long it had been since someone had used it. As expected, there was a hallway behind it. This one was barely wide enough for Jane to fit through, but at least she was able to walk straight; her arms brushed the wall, but she suspected that she wouldnt be able to make it any other way since her thighs were becoming too big to sidle along.

As the two approached the door they could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal and the hum of machinery. Tentatively, Jane opened the door. The room beyond it was again divided into two except for a small gap directly to Janes right that was just big enough for a thin person to squeeze through. This time the room was divided by numerous iron bars instead of plastic walls, each wrapped in what appeared to be razor wire. The floor was a giant treadmill that was humming along at an impressive pace towards Jane. The other side of the room was set up similarly except that the treadmill was running in the opposite direction; the far wall on that side was occupied by spinning blades instead of a door, and an old woman was struggling to run away from certain death. The woman was slowly losing ground.

Instinctively Jane dashed into the room and the door shut with a mechanical hiss behind her before Anne had a chance to do the same. The elderly woman glanced up for a moment, her eyes sunken with exhaustion, and wildly pointed to the door, unable to waste breath explaining. Jane saw why quickly enough; there was a control panel next to the door that looked like it might stop the treadmill.

Pounding from behind her told her that Anne was having no luck getting through and the woman wasnt going to last long enough to figure out how to open it. Reluctantly, Jane stepped onto the contraption and began to run.

***

Charles didnt really expect the bookie to show; people in that profession didnt last long if word got around that they were civil-like with the authorities. Knives and bullets didnt care much if Charles wasnt technically the police. However, the bookie, called Watches by clients, seemed actually eager to meet in person, though rather reluctant to discuss anything over the phone. That, in turn, made Charles rather reluctant to meet in person. People acting differently than they should usually meant bad news.

He casually put his hands in his pockets, shifting his pants just enough so that he could feel that the gun strapped to his left ankle was still secure. After a minute, ticking down the seconds in his head, he adjusted his hat to be sure that the back-up cell phone was still there.

Despite his usually calm demeanor, Charles couldnt help feel out of place. Watches had insisted that they meet at the local childrens park by an unusually long, bright red and blue teeter-totter. The little beasts were keeping a distance from him, urged on no doubt by their mothers who were giving him nasty looks.

After another few minutes a rather large woman wearing a purple business suit and a pink beret with an ostrich feather sticking out of one side pushed a neon green stroller up next to him. Sit down will you? Youre drawing attention to yourself.

Supposing that this was Watches, Charles went to sit at a nearby bench but the woman stopped him and pointed to one side of the teeter-totter. Obediently, Charles sat down and the lady took the seat opposite, sending him high into the air. Now, Charles, you said that you wanted information on one of my clients.

Watches, I presume? he asked.

The lady nodded and rolled up her sleeves; several watches adorned each arm. Charles continued then. I am trying to track down a Ms. Taik. I have reason to believe that she placed several bets with you over the years.

That she did, that she did. She wasnt a good client, as such things go, but had the ears of enough people that it would have been bad for business to turn her away.

She welched on her bets? Charles asked.

Hardly, Watches said. She never lost a bet. Those are the worst kind of clients. At least the weasels can be taken care of, expeditiously like. But if someone wins too much and I cant even hint that theyre rigging things? She shook her head.

Her name wasnt Ms. Taik.

Of course it wasnt. Never did manage to get her real name though. I suspect you have it, however, though which one of your clients or subjects it is I cant guess.

Jane Weston.

Youre still working on her case? She disappeared ages ago.

Charles shrugged as nonchalantly as he could when sitting on a teeter-totter up in the air. He realized that if something foul went down, hed be in a bad spot.

That does explain how she always managed to guess things right. Bet she probably had a system that actually worked. Anyways, there is a reason I came. Watches took an envelope from the stroller and taped it to her side of the teeter-totter. Ms. Taik told me to give this to anyone who came asking about her, in exchange for not collecting on a rather substantial winning. Have a look, after I leave.

She stood up and Charles hit the ground before he had a chance to respond. He fell backwards and by the time he righted himself Watches was mostly to the parking lot. Looking around he saw every eye was on him. The people might remember what he looked like, they might remember that he met with a woman in an odd dress, but, Charles realized, not a one would probably be able to describe Watches face.

He quickly took the envelope and looked inside. It contained a single receipt with a signature for Ms. Taik written in Janes hand. The receipt was for a restaurant on the west coast, somewhere that none of Janes records had indicated she had ever traveled to. 

*To Be Continued*​


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## Snorri Sturluson (Aug 30, 2007)

This is a little rushed, but if I didn't post it today then it might not have gotten posted for another two weeks. Regardless, I hope everyone enjoys it. I have about two or three more installments planned before the tale is finished, just to give you an idea of how much longer this will drag out.


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## Sparrow (Sep 1, 2007)

Really interesting plot. I can't wait to see how it turns out.


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## Sparrow (Jan 3, 2008)

Has this story been abandoned?


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## Sanguine (Jan 10, 2008)

I severly hope not


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## stev0 (Jan 12, 2008)

its like a sexy fat admirer saw


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## Snorri Sturluson (Jan 16, 2008)

*Parts 3 & 4*

For the first few seconds of running, Jane wondered just how long she had been out of it while being force-fed. Her legs struggled to reach around each other and underneath the new fat her muscles were already crying. For the next few second, Jane became more convinced that Desirae was a new kind of mentally sick. Janes entire body swung from side to side and her skull was being rattled out of her body as she ran along, fat feet hitting the treadmill with painful force. Between gritted teeth she mumbled equal and opposite force my ass, deriding Newtons Third Law. It was a bit of a literal remark, as her legs kept hitting her ass; this was an utterly new sensation that gave her a prickling between her shoulder blades, as if some invisible person was behind her, hitting her. After that, Jane didnt bother with thinking as all her energy was devoted to running.

Perspiration formed on her body and began to bead, shaking off her in great droves with every heavy footfall. Though running at her fastest, the treadmill kept pace and she barely made headway. Janes lungs burned from the exertion and her mouth was a-gap, gulping air. Before she had run for five minutes her long hair was utterly soaked from her sweet and her clothes became plastered to her body.

Jane wanted to collapse; indeed, her vision narrowed and dimmed as blood was diverted from her head. A glance at the poor woman on the other side, just as exhausted, kept her moving though. Inch by inch Jane willed herself to keep going faster and faster. Her fat arms flailed like flabby wings as she reached out for the control panel. Her fingertips brushed it but did not good. With the room beginning to spin from her exertion, Jane lunged at it then collapsed to the floor, near fainting.

Over the rush of her blood in her ears she heard a loud thump and the whine of the motors shutting down. The room seemed to throb with the beat of the blood vessels in her eyes and it spun in ways minds were not meant to perceive. Jane just wanted to lay there and fall asleep but with the effort she had put forth her body demanded something else; water. That desire, and the gentle trickle of a liquid, kept her awake.

Willing her arms to move, Jane flopped about until she managed a fine enough control of her arms to push herself up. Next to the door was a small alcove. Gripping its edge Jane pulled herself up and peered over the edge. Her eyes could feel how cool the water was, just from looking at it, and as soon as she had enough energy to pull her head out again, she dunked her entire face into the liquid. Gulping it down as fast as she could, Jane marveled as her body could feel the influx of coolant seep down her throat and pool in her stomach. All too soon she had the basin drained, though a slight stream of water worked to refill it.

Feeling stronger for her drink, Jane stumbled back to the door she had come through. Annes muffled shouts could just be heard. It was a simple lock and it popped open as soon as she tried to turn the handle.

OK, what just happened? Anne asked.

Jane motioned, rather than talked, but Anne got the message. On the other side of the room the old lady had collapsed, the souls of her shoes showing the beginnings of the blades cutting into them. Jane didnt even try to fit between the space, letting Anne go instead. Dragging the lady through, Jane wearily plodded over to the basin and splashed water on her face. The old lady barely sputtered and didnt open her eyes.

Who knows how long shes been running; it nearly killed me in three seconds. Lets let her sleep for now.

Anne nodded and asked, Should we take a look through the door?

Jane nodded wearily. Might as well and get it over with. But, and I hope you dont begrudge me, you first.

Anne opened the door to, slightly surprisingly, another room rather than a hallway. It looked like an airport security terminal, with a large device like a metal detector in the middle of the room. On the other side were three cots, a change of clothes for Jane, and what appeared to be military MREs.

What do you think that is? Anne asked, pointing to the device in the room.

Judging from the copious markings, Jane indicated to three symbols, we have to pass through some radiation. Beta, if I had to guess.

Oh?

Well Desirae seems to want to wait for us, or me, to trigger things, so I bet that she wants us to pass through that doorway before whatever happens, happens. As those wall are obviously not lead, and as I doubt shed want so much radiation leaking out, I am fairly confident that it isnt gamma radiation. Alpha would be blocked by our clothes and do almost nothing. Thus

Wonder why, Annie stated.

Jane shrugged. Could be shes implanted something in us that will break when exposed to radiation. Maybe she wants us all nice and clear; people irradiate their food, why not their toys? Regardless, we have no where back to go so

Right, but lets get the old woman. Looks like whoever has us here was planning on you saving her.

The two women picked up the older lady and carried her through. Anne noticed the alcove and asked, Do you think that is real water?

Jane had no answer; that was a good point. At the time Jane thought Desirae might have just been kind in helping her little lab rats recover after a hard experiment, but the liquid might have been the real test. Was her mouth a little too sticky for having drunk water? And was that aftertaste just from running too hard or something else.

Both women held their breaths as Anne passed through the device but she seemed unscathed. The woman, stretched between the two as they carried her, also passed unharmed. However the moment Jane went through she dropped the ladies feet and doubled over in pain from a cramp. Unlike anything she had ever felt before, her stomach felt like it was being pulled out of her body through the pores. The pain pushed all thoughts and sensation from her mind and she passed out.

***

Of course I remember her; not many people tip that generously. Though she didnt call herself what did you say again?

Ms. Taik, Charles offered.

Right, she didnt call herself that. She went by the name of Wolan, but everyone around here just called her Dee. She seemed like such a wonderful lady, always kind to anyone who happened to talk to her. Is she in some kind of trouble? I havent seen her in nearly six months.

Charles tried his best to look pleasant. The owner of the restraint (Uncle Oinkers Hog-Heaven Bar-Certified B-Q Pit) was uneasy enough as it was and he appeared to be the sort whod just fall to pieces if scared. Nothing useful would come out then. Probably. Ms. Taik, which is an alias, as is D. Wolan, went missing some time ago. She didnt live anywhere around here and official records dont show that she ever visited. However, as you just confirmed, she did. I am trying to track down why she was here, where she may have gone, and who might be responsible.

Two aliases? Sounds like she knew she was in trouble, but she never hinted of it here. Shed just show up every now and then, eat her fill, chat with the staff, and leave.

Charles looked around the restraint, trying to imagine Jane in a place like this; she always acted like she couldnt be bothered with food, so why would she travel half way across the country to visit some random all you can eat buffet? Did she ever indicate a reason for coming here? Charles asked.

Apart from the food? the owner laughed at his own statement. After a moments consideration he continued, Well, one odd thing was that that she said she was here to meet with someone about a business deal. No one ever showed up but that didnt seem to bother her.

Do you know who this was or what they were to meet about?

Not really. She just said it was an old friend I think her words were something around the lines of little Dee wants to meet Big Dee, whatever that means. She said that whoever this was had things she needed; couldnt tell you what even if I knew. I can only guess that she was using scientific names for things, because it all sounded like gibberish to me.

Thinking back to Janes publications, a lot of the equipment that she used in her experiments would seem like a foreign language to most people. If she had been trying to buy that stuff, it would have left a paper trail; only a handful of companies in the world manufactured the materials and they werent cheap at all. There would be invoices and delivery confirmations.

Thank you. Charles turned to leave.

Wait, what was her real name? the owner asked.

Jane Weston.

Jane D. Weston?! That genius scientist that buggered off, months ago?

***

Hello?

Jane batted absentmindedly at the voice.

Well, shes awake at least.

Oh good. From what shes told me, I am not sure if whoever has us here would care about us if not for her.

Whys that?

Whoever has us here talks to her.

Desirae, Jane mumbled. Opening her eyes she saw Anne and the older women each sitting on the cots. From the feel of things, she was on one too, though it apparently was too small for her. By design, probably. One either side of her Jane could feel the metal polls digging into her back. Her name is Desirae. She seems to have a grudge against me, couldnt tell you why.

Glancing down at herself she wasnt surprised to see that she had added more weight since last looking. Running her hand down the side of her stomach, she voiced the only question, How?

The old lady answered. The first rule of surviving in a foreign land. Dont. Drink. The. Water.

Ill try to keep that in mind Ms

Call me Jan.

Right, Janice, the old lady made a face at the name but didnt say anything, So how do you know it was the water?

Janice gave her a withering look. I used my mind, which is something you should have done before drinking it. It is cool and it is clear, but why should that be water? It is also thick, leaves a slight residue, and reacts when exposed to energy. Guess how it reacts.

Jane tried to sit up and failed; her stomach wouldnt allow it. Crap, that was Triproletarimate Glucosimate.

Annes face was blank so Jane explained while the other two helped her up, Triprol- that stuff, is something Ive been working on as part of my research into energy-matter conversion. Basically, I was trying to follow a basic plant model; biological substance is exposed to light, orders that substance in such a way as to allow chemical reactions to function, and poof, energy. The biggest difference is that for plants, all the material is present. This stuff is missing key electrons and neutrons; it is almost entirely comprised of ions and isotopes. Expose it to the right sort of radiation and the ions and isotopes revert to a natural state; that is, they gain energy in the form of stable electron orbits and the proper number of neutrons. The result is that the solution increases in mass about 10% but becomes energy dense. Not very useful for turning energy into matter but wonderful as a bio fuel. Imagine setting a jar of that stuff outside for a while, letting the sun do its magic, and then you have a substance you could put in your car or on your plate.

Its digestible?

Mostly. I must have passed out from the pain caused when the stuff I drank expanded in my already beaten stomach when exposed to that radiation. And the extra weight that stuff is about as densely packed with calories as one can get; pure lard looks like a health food next to it.

Janice shook her head, What the child here is forgetting to tell you is that she has no idea how to produce it in a stable state. Whoever has us here is a bit smarter, it seems.

Reluctantly, Jane nodded at the comment as she examined the clothing left for her; with the extra weight gain, her old clothes had fallen off her where she had lain. The pants were comically huge, like something a clown might wear. She had to ask Anne to help her put them on as she couldnt both hold the pants and yet have it in a position where she could get her legs into it. Jane had to suck in her stomach sharply to get the zipper up and the clasp snapped. The shirt, to her dismay, was a baby-t, though a rather large one at that. Again Jane tried to put it on herself but failed. It was too tight to put on over her head first; it might as well have been a straight jacket in that case. Yet if she put one arm in first the fabric wouldnt stretch enough to let her other arm in, given the decreased mobility that her size imposed on her. She also just couldnt bring her arms close enough to put them through together.

I think the sizing may have been intentional, Jane commented with a weak smile, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Anne and Janice helped her into the shirt as well. As soon as they let go, the bottom of it rolled up and tucked itself under her breasts, creating an oddly shape sports bra look. The shirt also packed her upper arms, giving a false sense of firmness on one hand and bulging flab where the sleeve ended.

Now that Im made up like a clown, shall we continue on? Jane shuffled her way to the door, growing quite annoyed at how much effort she had to put into walking (waddling, rather, but she wasnt going to admit that). By the time she reached the door she was starting to sweet again and out of breath.

Um. Why dont Janice and I go look ahead and come get you when the coast is clear. Anne and Janice promptly opened the door and disappeared through it into what Jane glimpsed was another hall.

Well now, that is nice of them. I thought theyd never leave.

Hello Desirae, Jane said unenthusiastically.

Why Jane, you sound so sad. Whatever for?

If I asked you why youre making me fat, would you tell me the truth?

No.

Well Jane was taken back by the blunt reply. Thanks for the honesty, but why not?

Because I was never told why I had to stay inside. It gets cramped in here even though no one ever visits me. Just alone with your thoughts it can drive you crazy, you know.

Actually, I wouldnt.

That is right, you have Janice and Anne to keep you company. Odd little things, arent they? I wonder how that crone knew about your research. You hadnt published the problems youve been having with stabilizing the compound. Where did she learn that interesting bit of information? Indeed, seems like she knows a little too much about your research for just some random person I picked up off the street. Maybe she isnt so random after all; maybe I have a reason for her being here.

Im not going to be paranoid.

Just because youre paranoid doesnt mean people arent out to get you.

The room lapsed into silence. Jane tried to shift her weight from foot to foot, to relieve the pain that was growing in them from supporting too much bulk, but nearly fell over doing so. She wanted to sit down but was afraid that without Janice and Anne there to help her, shed never be able to get back up.

Whats taking them so long? she wondered aloud.

It has been a good half hour; maybe they forgot about you. Perhaps they cut the fat and went on. Without you, there chances of survival are-

Gah! Jane interrupted, Shut up! Im tired of listening to your rambling. If you want me to go, just say it!

I want you to want to go.

Without responding, Jane squeezed through the door, noting that her hips brushed each side of the doorframe, and waddled as best she could down the corridor. It was far too small and to take even one waddling step she had to throw her body against the opposite wall. Slowly and exhaustingly she shimmied her way through it and found the far door closed. That proved to be one of the harder obstacles she had faced since waking up in this place; to get close enough to reach the doorknob her stomach had to be in the way of opening it. The walls were too close together to allow her to back up easily, resulting in her own body causing the door to slam shut every time she tried to open it. Finally she managed by wedging a love handle against the door as soon as it open. Tenaciously, she wiggled herself to a position where she managed to fit through.

This room was quite different than the rest in that it was decorated like a little girls imagination. Puffy clouds floated from the ceiling on wires, the chairs resembled unicorns, there was a small horde of stuffed animals, and there was even a little girl sitting at a table playing tea with some of them. The entrance and exist were segregated from the rest of it in little mundane alcoves. Janice and Anne were on the ground, seemingly unconscious, in the exist alcove.

Jane looked around, hoping to find an indication of what this room would do to her. Waddling over to the girl, who was herself rather portly for one so young, Jane introduced herself.

Hello there, my name is Jane. Can I ask your name and what you are doing here?

Startled (though Jane was sure she made a lot of noise walking over), the girl looked up guiltily from the table. Chocolate frosting covered her mouth and Jane saw that she wasnt just playing tea, there were real pastries on the table and the cups had real liquid. Upon seeing Jane, however, she relaxed.

Hi, Im Jay. Im here because mommy and daddy told me I couldnt have cupcakes for breakfast. I asked them why not but they just said it was because they said so and that besides cupcakes arent good for you but I think they are or else why would they taste so good but my parents say that just because it tastes good that doesnt mean it is good but that doesnt make sense to me. Do you want one? The little girl held up a half-eaten cupcake.

No thanks, Jane said, forcing herself to smile. She had a spot on her back, between her shoulder blades, that was itching. Something wasnt right (or, at least, more wrong than things had been so far). But I meant, how did you wind up in this place? Surely your parents didnt bring you here; were you kidnapped too?

Jay scrunched up her face as she thought for a moment, but burst happily with Nope, I have no idea. All I remember is my parents sent me to my room. This isnt my room but I like it, its fun and it has tasties. Do you want one? This time she held up a cookie.

No, thank you. Jane pointed to the other two women lying by the door. Do you know what happened to them?

The girl looked over and shook her head. Nope, who are they? I havent seen them before.

They would have come out of that door, Jane pointed to the one she had just come from. Are you sure they didnt try to talk with you or, Jane eyed the food on the table, eat anything?

No, but if they would have said hello they could have had a cookie, I like cookies dont you? Theyre my favorite, except maybe for cupcakes, those are my favorites too, and ice-cream! Do you want some? She offered a banana split.

No thank you, but perhaps you had better come with me. It isnt safe here.

No! the girl shouted. You not my mommy, you cant tell me not to eat cupcakes!

It is okay, you can take some with you, but we should go. The girl just shook her head and pulled a few treats away from where Jane was standing. Well, I suppose we could just come back for you later

The itching feeling was growing stronger and Jane examined the room again. She realized that almost every inch of surface was covered either in a stuffed toy of dessert treat. She also realized that the room was more cramped than it had been; the roof was slowly lowering.

Look, the roof is coming down. We have to leave or well get squished.

The girl still shook her head and stuffed another cupcake into her mouth, Imf na weefing wifouf muh fwupffwaks.

Jane hurried to the other women and tried to wake them (but not daring to bend over and fall, she just kicked them lightly with her foot, which she couldnt see). They didnt stir but the alcoves ceiling wasnt moving either. They seemed safe, for the moment. Waddling back to Jay she tried again, If we dont leave well die!

The girl shook her head. Jane grabbed her arm and tried to pull her out, but she barely moved. Using both arms as best she could, Jane tried again, heaving with all her might, but the girl squirmed and dug in her heels. She didnt budge an inch and Jane lost her grip, tripped, and fell backwards. It was a shorter fall than she expected, since her body was further out now. Lying on her back, Janes arms flailed uselessly. Without an alternative, she had rock her way over to the wall (she tried rolling but just got stuck on her stomach, with her arms still not long enough to push her up and her belly prevented her legs from getting under her).

So you wont leave until all the cupcakes are gone?

Jay nodded, Uh hu but dont even think about throwing them away. I like cupcakes and if you do Ill hate you for ever and ever and ever.

Waddling up next to her Jane sighed. It seemed fairly obvious what Desirae wanted her to do. Jay, can I still have a cupcake?

Sure!


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## Snorri Sturluson (Jan 16, 2008)

I actually was trying to finish up my other stories before this one, but I was failing in that regard and this one seemed to be going rather nicely; hence... 

There actually isn't too much left; just one more "room" after this one and we'll get to see if Jane survives (and if she survives, in what "shape").

Hope you enjoy.


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## Snorri Sturluson (Mar 3, 2008)

*Parts 5-9*

An entire forest worth of paper littered Charles’ motel room floor. He had managed to get his hands on stock databases for the primary distributors of research grade materials and was tracking down every last test-tube and ounce of saline solution that they had shipped in the last fifteen years. To no surprise, the vast majority of the supplies went to reputable research institutions, both academic and industry, and Charles discarded them out of hand. Whatever Jane, or whoever had her, were up to, the cloak and dagger aliases wouldn’t have been necessary if they were just going to purchase supplies so openly.

The problem was in the crackpot inventors; hobbiests who fancied themselves undiscovered geniuses.

A woman on the east coast had ordered a suspicious amount of double-bonded irradiated sucrosomate, one of the many materials Jane worked with. Charles had great difficulty getting her to talk, requiring “special” techniques be applied to loosen her tongue. It turned out that she was just working on a substance that she claimed would replace peanut butter. Never mind that the stuff was toxic.

Then there was an old man in the middle of nowhere. He was an odd one in numerous ways: he lived in a castle-like mansion on the precipice of a cliff, he had an oblong bald head, wore thick glasses that obscured his eyes, and seemed to own no clothing other than a lab coat and rubber gloves. His inventions seemed to be entirely centered around machines with long arms and cartoon-like hands. All in all, he looked to be a villain from an old Merrie Melodies; all he needed was an anthropomorphic pig strapped to a chair.

Not all of the “hobbiests” were that innocent. Charles had turned over some of his files to the authorities already, to let them figure out why “citizens” would need what could result in industry grade explosives.

He was closer to finding out where Jane had disappeared to, but only because of dogged pursuit. If the floor was covered in papers, the motel’s dumpster was full of it.

After so much time sorting through files, he was becoming rather adept at recognizing which were to legitimate companies and which needed actual investigation. The invoice in his hands was so far unique; unlike the crackpots, the order was under what appeared to be a legitimate company name. A reference check showed that it did have a proper business liscenese, filed taxes, and in general had a proper legal presence. The problem was that this was a unique order, the company never bought the material again. Indeed, all it ever bought was a large initial supply of the materials. The company representative Charles had called couldn’t quite explain the organization’s business plan either, but he did reveal that they used a third party shipping company to move materials from receiving to the necessary sites where it was put to a use he was unaware of.

A quick call to that third-party company and Charles found himself with a puzzle. Their delivery location did not match the first company’s invoices; apparently the trucks were always rerouted after pickup. The true delivery site was in the great American wastes, at the topmost point of the state of Texas. The goods were delivered to an underground site and left there; no one ever signed for them.

Charles tried to suppress his hope. This was a good lead, but until he could confirm who owned that site nothing would come of it. Still, at least he could leave the invoices behind for a while as he hit up the county office there.

***

Jane hated cupcakes. They were too sweet, the frosting too rich, and her stomach was too full.

“Hehe, you’re fun!” Jay said. Jane forced herself to eat the cupcake that the child shoved into her face.

“I like cupcakes, and cookies, and ice-cream, but not as much as you.” She poked Jane’s stomach. Though her gut was packed full, the ordeals she had been put through since waking up in that barren room had added enough padding that the girl’s arm sunk in to her elbow.

There was only a few treats left, but still the girl refused to leave until everything was gone. The roof was far too close now, Jane was forced to sit on the floor, yet the girl seemed oblivious to the danger. So Jane swalled, feeling the food stop in her esophagus for want of place to go, and opened her mouth again. Jay shoved in a cookie.

“You’re like a big teddy bear. I love you,” Jay said, wrapping her arms around Jane’s belly, or as far around as her arms would reach.

A few pastries latter, they were done and the child was finally willing to leave. Unfortunately, Jane found herself in a predicament: The roof was barely three feet off the floor, there was no hope of walking over to the exit. Jay happily crawled around the room for a moment before heading over to the two unconscious bodies by the door and waited for Jane. For her part, Jane rolled over onto her hands and knees and tried to follow suit. Her arms were spread wide, due to her too large breasts; waddling with one’s legs was one thing, waddling with one’s arms another. Still, that wouldn’t have been too bad if it weren’t for her belly. Her legs could barely move forward due to it being in the way, and it dragged against the carpeted floor greatly, making every inch hard-won.

Slowly making her way towards the door, Jane couldn’t help but wonder if Desirae had actually timed everything to result in this. The room might have even been carpeted just so Jane would be forced to give her belly rug-burn.

About five feet away from the door, she could feel the roof touching her butt (while crawling, the highest point of her body). By three feet it was pressing too firmly to allow movement, Jane was reduced to a prone position, which still only bought her a few more minutes; she was nearly as tall laying flat as she had been on her hands and knees.

“A little help?”

Jay grabbed her hand and tried to pull. Jane shifted her weight as best she could, her hands and feet trying to find purchase, and she eventually inched forward more through rocking motion than anything else. With only a foot left, the ceiling once again was pressing against her. Her head was barely into the alcove by the time the pressure on her body prevented any movement.

“Oh come on. Desirae, do you really think I’d believe you’d let me die? Cut it out!”

“Who’s Desirae?” Jay asked.

Jane ignored her. “Desirae, stop it. Ahg, this is starting to hurt. I’m really full, stop it!”

The little girl began to panic, first pulling on one of Jane’s outstretched arms, then trying to lift the ceiling off of her. Finally, she went over to the sleeping forms and nudged them. Janice and Anne woke with a start. Without pause their hands darted out, each grabbing one of Jane’s arms, their hands sinking deep into her flesh, and threw themselves back.

And Jane moved.

They pulled again. Jane’s stomach burned horribly on the carpet and she could feel her pants being pulled down by the friction. Stitches popped and her eyes bulged.

With a final pull she was free, her pants around her ankles, but alive and mostly alright.

Without ceremony, Jane got up, pulled her pants up, and went through the door.

This new room seemed safe enough, for the moment. There was a large table in the center with four chairs, four beds lined the walls, and a door with a red “Exit” sign over it. Shuffling in, Jane saw letters had been placed at each spot on the table. Picking one up, she read out loud:

“Congratulations. Beyond that door my world ends and yours begins.”

Anne tried to open that door but failed.

“But before you go let us celebrate. You particularly, Jane, have survived much. I am sure the experience weighs heavy on you. Sleep for tonight. In the morning I will prepare for you a going away meal. Afterwards, one of you may leave each day. It has been a pleasure to get to know you all again.”

“Signed, D.”

***

“Well sir, I’m mighty sorry to tell you, but no one owns that land. Back in 1934 it was owned by a local farmer, Digger Jones, but he went bust and the bank foreclosed. No one ever bought the land.”

“So if someone where to be living there…”

“Squatters, sir. If you think someone might be doing that, best tell the sher’f.. Ain’t a citizen’s place to be kickin’ people out of wherever they be.”

“Thanks, I think I will do that.

Charles wanted to drive out there now, but without proper legal permission doing so could just make matters worse. He dialed up the sheriff’s office on his cell phone and began the paperwork.

By the early afternoon of the fourth day after he had talked to the clerk’s office, Charles stood in front of a simple cement shed in the midst of what passed as a forest in those parts. Though the ground looked much the same, the utter lack of trees in a various geometrical patterns indicated that something had been built, probably underground, there within the last couple of years.

Behind him the county’s swat team prepared to raid the structure. A scream, followed by a crash, from inside set them running.

***

It had been decided that they’d choose who got to leave on any given day by drawing straws. Jane was not surprised when she was left to the last day.

Desirae, of course, couldn’t make things simple. The door would only unlock after they had finished off the “feast” that had been provided to “celebrate” their release. Though she watched the others carefully, Jane was convinced that they weren’t doing their part to clear away the food. They always were eating, but she seemed to be the only one making a dent in the food.

Still, she realized that somewhere along the way she didn’t really care what Desirae was causing her to do to her body. Freedom was just on the other side of that door. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted freedom anymore, but it gave her something to work towards and so she put the question of her desires aside.

Janice was the first one to leave. The door opened into a small room, a closet really. There was another door, but it apparently would only open after the first had been closed.

Despite the old lady’s lack of tact, Jane found herself missing her over the next day. She was old, but had a drive in her that Jane admired. She suspected that most old ladies would have given up and died on that treadmill. And she was well versed in science; there were few women in the field and Jane hoped to have the chance to talk shop with her.

The next day another feast was presented. There were all sorts of dishes; sausages, steak and kidney pie, sweet meat, liver and onions, rump roast, etc. Probably all in all about a hundred pounds of meat (including the bones) were on the table. Though she knew her gut should have burst for it, Jane thought she must have downed most of it herself.

Anne was next. She was nothing if not energetic, and like Janice, Jane was sad to see her go.

And yet another feast, much the same as the first. The meat was a bit more tender, but that was the only difference.

And finally little Jay left; she was utterly unaware of the danger she was in, and that ignorance was refreshing. Indeed, that little girl vague reminded Jane of when she was young. At that age she wouldn’t have been as horrified with her immensely obese body as she was now. Conforming to cultural expectations had to be learned, after all.

On the morning of the fourth and hopefully last day, Jane was awakened much as she was at first.

“Wake-y wake-y little miss Jane-y.”

“Morning Desirae.”

“Are you ready to leave today?”

“How do you want me to answer?”

“Well now,” the disembodied voice said, “it doesn’t sound like you’re excited. Would you rather stay?”

“Not really.”

“Hmph, you insult my hospitality. Oh well. Let’s celebrate your freedom. And perhaps we should toast that beautiful body of yours?”

“Whatever.”

Jane was quite aware of how her body swayed as she walked over to the table, each movement seemingly lasting for minutes on end as this and that jiggled. At least there was less food today. Sitting down she began to reach for a covered platter.

“Nuh-ah, not that one. That is special; a going away present.”

Obediently, Jane left it alone and tucked in. Her mind was numb while she ate, the flavors barely registering, the growing pain in her stomach ignored.

When at last she was done, she lifted the cover of final platter. Lined up in a row were three heads. As if from a great distance, she had the sense of watching herself as recognition hit her. Janice, Anne, and Jay were staring at her.

Jane’s mind turned to the food; kidney, liver, sweet meat, ribs…

Her abdominal muscles contracted, trying to force the contents of her stomach out but nothing came and Jane cursed herself for it.

Weak from the dry heaves, she stood up. The door unlocked with an audible click.

“Bitch.” Jane made her way towards the door stepped inside the little closeted room and shut the door. There was no independent lighting so she fumbled around for the handle to the other door.

Standing in front of her was a woman, if such labels can be applied. Intuitively Jane knew who it must be. She was huge, as fat as she had made Jane, with her skin sagging under the weight of it all, but standing only about five feet tall. Her eyes were dark pin pricks in the depths of a swollen face, her cheeks overly prominent as if she had the mumps, and her neck was utterly absent, replaced by a tumorous second chin that flowed into her arms, as there was no distinction between that and her shoulders; they all formed a continuous, slightly undulating, curve of fat. Even the woman’s fingers were fat, like mere stubs in the place of true digits. Her breasts strained her clothing, which showed a complete lack of style, and mocked her gender by being utterly shapeless; her gut swelled mightily before drooping to cover much of her thighs. Only enormous saddlebags and a protruding rear indicated that he legs didn’t just start at the knee. Her legs were set several feet apart out of necessity, both for stability and since they were too large to be nearer each other.

With a great up swelling of anger &#8211; hatred over what she had been put through -- Jane screamed and lashed out at her captor.

***

Charles kept watch over the sleeping woman. She looked like Jane, more or less, but the difference was amazing. The lithe academic he had dated was gone, buried under hundreds of pounds of fat. As she slept her face contorted with nightmares.

She had been lucid a few times since he had found her and during those times gave spotted accounts of her ordeal. She didn’t seem to know anything about her captor, who hadn’t been found yet. After the structure had been searched by the police a crew of eggheads had been brought in. Whatever had happened there, some of Jane’s oddest theories had been put into practice. The entire place was rigged up with energy to matter conversion, her own clothing were made from advanced polymers that she had developed, and early testing indicated that she had undergone intensive gene therapy, introducing the human photosynthesis gene into her DNA, while making other changes. Whoever had captured her had made her a guinea pig to her own experiments.

Still, for being the test subject for a madman for several months, she looked impressive. When they first found her, Charles had to admit she looked rather ugly; her spirit was broken. But since then, even in her sleep, it appeared that she had found a new fire. Just lying there, she seemed to carry herself differently. More assured, more confident. And with confidence comes sensuality. Maybe he could convince Jane to give their relationship a try.

Presently, her eyes flickered open.

“Charles?”

“Hey babe, how are you feeling?”

“Better, I think. Where are the others?”

“Others? Were there other people with you?”

Jane paused for a moment, thinking intently. “No, sorry. I was confused. Just woke up and all, must have been part of a half remembered dream.”

“No worries. Unfortunately, we still don’t have a clue on who kidnapped you.”

“That’s okay, I know you are doing your best to capture him.” Charles wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she had put a lot of stress on that last word.

“Well Jane, we don’t even know if it was a &#8216;him’ at all; could have been a woman.”

She nodded, “I suppose.”

Charles hadn’t dated her without learning to recognize some of her habits; she wanted to ask something, but she wanted him to bring it up. “Is something up babe?”

“Just feeling nostalgic, I guess. Thinking about what might have been, what could be, that sort of thing.” She paused. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Can you call me by my middle name? I think I need a change to help me put all this behind me.”

“But I thought you hated that name, ever since you were a little girl and your parents caught you trying to have cupcakes for breakfast.”

“Yeah; nothing like having your parents use your full name when you’re in trouble to give you a subconscious distaste for it. But still…”

Charles shrugged. “Sure, whatever you say… Desirae.”

The End​


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## Snorri Sturluson (Mar 3, 2008)

And that, as they say, is that.

A bit lighter (content wise, not subject matter wise) towards the end than I would have preferred (I planned on fleshing out the other characters more, but every time I tried the writing died), but not the worst I've ever written.

I hope you enjoyed the "twist" at the end (and hopefully I didn't bludgeon anyone with foreshadowing; I usually don't have stories planned out from day one, so I usually don't get to use it).

Now onto bigger (pun intended) and better (hopefully) things.


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## IrishBard (Mar 4, 2008)

An absolutely marvelous story, sucsinced in its delivery of quality from a interesting and gripping start to a balls-to-the-walls fantastic ending. I am truly amazed at the quality of work. You deserve a medal!

now if I can get the complete and utter fanboy praise out of the way, I want to say, good job!


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## Sparrow (Mar 5, 2008)

I like it.


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