As Alex lay on Scarlett's bed, contemplating his decision to keep her trapped within him, he became aware of the persistent squirming inside his body. It was as if Scarlett was attempting to free herself from her unique confinement. Alex watched, both intrigued and bewildered, as Scarlett's movements intensified. However, to his surprise, the wriggling gradually ceased, leaving Alex with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. He couldn't help but taunt Scarlett, questioning if that was all she had to offer. Exhausted and unable to respond, Scarlett listened silently from within Alex's flesh, her muffled presence a reminder of the unusual situation they found themselves in. Taking a deep breath, Alex readjusted his grip around the essence of Scarlett, ensuring a tighter hold that made it harder for her to move or struggle. A low gurgling and squishing sound reverberated from deep within him. Though Scarlett's muffled screams were barely audible, they conveyed her desperate attempt to
Once upon a time, in a small town, there lived an ordinary teenage boy named Alex. He was an adopted child, living with his two older sisters, Ellie and Jenny, and their mother, Scarlett. Little did Alex know that a mysterious power resided deep within him, waiting to be unleashed. It was a quiet evening when Alex stumbled upon a hidden secret within himself. He had always felt different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. As he grew older, his curiosity grew stronger, and he couldn't resist exploring the depths of his unique abilities. One day, while his sisters were out running errands, Alex found himself alone with his mother, Scarlett. The house was calm, and the air hung heavy with secrecy. Alex couldn't ignore the urge any longer; he had to test his newfound power. Silently, Alex crept into Scarlett's room, where she lay sound asleep. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls. He stood at the foot of her bed, heart pounding in his chest. With a mix of
Part 1
Giving up on any trick-or-treaters materializing on her front porch, Jennifer Matthews settled into the comfiest end of the couch under a fall-themed afghan when the first intrepid soul rang the doorbell. Taking a break from mindlessly scrolling through Netflix selections, the yawning thirtysomething made her way to the door in zombie-like fashion. Apropos for such a sleepy Halloween. More than two decades had passed since the holiday elicited anything more than a glimmer of interest. At least the entire godawful bag of seasonal “Cauldron Skittles” won’t totally go to waste, she figured, lazily unlocking the deadbolt