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cyberxilophone · 1 year ago

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Far Away Feelings (Echo VN - Weight Gain)

"It's called the hum." After the hysteria incident, Leo finds himself alone now that Chase has left for college with Carl and Jenna. Micha won't talk to him, and Flynn won't even look him in the eye after he saw the otter-shaped amalgamation born out of Leo's mind. He needs to find closure SOMEHOW, right?

It’s called the hum. Does weird shit to your brain. It’s… bad. Really bad.

That was the last thing Micha said to him during the harrowing night two months ago. Chase, Jenna, and Carl were stuck in the Hendricks Mansion doing god knows what while he, Flynn, Micha, and TJ were left to fend for themselves as everyone in the town lost their minds. Hell, Leo was sure that he lost his mind that day.

Everything before Micha broke up his and Flynn’s violent fight was a blur. There was screaming, TJ was on the verge of breaking into tears, and Leo was sure that there was a gun involved. Was it his? Was it Flynn’s? Did he pick it up from one of the many corpses that filled the road? It was impossible to tell.

Now? Everything was worse. Chase left for college again, he took Carl with him, Jenna was acting completely closed off and refused to even acknowledge his texts, Micha said that he needed some space after reconnecting in such a horrible situation, and Flynn… was Flynn.

“I didn’t even talk to Carl, but I liked knowing that he was there. What do I do, Ch—” No. No more. He couldn’t talk to… not him. The creature he had been talking to for so long wasn’t a person. It was a horrifying facsimile of the man he loved—the man that would never come back to him. It was simply a thing.

Why couldn’t you just tape Chase’s yearbook photo to a Fleshlight like a normal person?

Like Micha could understand. He was nice—scratch that. He was acceptable to stand around, but he didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. Did the bat think that being gay in this town was an excuse to be a dickhead?

“I was a little clingy, and the whole world comes fucking crumbling around me,” Leo growled as he crossed his arms. “Maldito Pendejo. He’s probably sucking Jeremy’s ball sweat like nothing ever happened.”

God, what was he doing? Everyone in the auto repair shop was telling him that there was something off with him, and instead of getting better, he was sulking like a fucking loser? Carl could afford to not do anything all day. Carl was rich, while he? He still needed to repair the holes he had punched into the drywall.

He needed to do something. The last thing he wanted was for that thing to appear again. To lure him in with its wonderful, distorted words.

Time to search on the Internet.

///

Leo didn’t believe in voodoo. Then again, he didn’t believe in tulpas or mass hysteria, but the events of two months ago certainly made him reconsider his position on the supernatural. His entire family was now very into praying and doing many a religious praying circle at the slightest hint of witchcraft—the factor they had blamed the entire hysteria incident on.

He couldn’t really criticize them for trying to rationalize it. There were many other things for him to think about—like how his obsession with Chase made a creature that moved with the grace of an animal with all of its bones broken manifest.

Still, he had nothing to lose. Not even his dignity, considering that the manifestation of Chase pretty much dragged his already shaky reputation with his friends through the mud.

I just have to make a representation to the person I want closure, right?

Initially, in a rush caused by too many energy drinks consumed in the early hours of the morning, he made one made out of wood and sticks. Now that he looked at it, however, it barely resembled Chase.

“I can’t half-ass it.” It had to look like Chase. He was probably still not completely ready to let him go, and perhaps doing so in small increments would make the transition easier. Instead of a living Chase replica, a non-living one would be easier and less dangerous to talk to.

And so, Leo began to dedicate his days to building the perfect representation of Chase. Hours spent looking at pictures of otters and stalking Chase’s Facebook page were replaced with nonstop watching Youtube tutorials.

His large paws weren’t really made for precise craftsmanship. For the first few days, his quivering hands resulted in small cuts appearing all over his arms, the stitching ended up causing Chase’s plush to look malformed, and yet another hole was made in the drywall.

In retrospect, doing it by hand was probably one of Leo’s worst ideas yet. Were it not for the fact that his aunt noticed the myriad of cuts on his forearm, he probably would’ve still done it manually. She basically pushed her old sewing machine onto him, and he gratefully took the old appliance.

So, a few days and discarded prototypes later, Leo finally had the stitching necessary for a Chase plush. He was almost proud of himself—even in spite of the melancholy that jabbed his chest every time he glanced at the plush’s face. It was almost like the plush looked back at him with its eternal smile.

That thing… always so happy…

In instinct, he wrapped a small piece of cloth around the plush’s mouth. “It’s just a scarf. Yeah. Nothing bad with that.”

Now, all he needed to do was to put the stuffing inside of the plus… Of course, that would need for him to have the stuffing in the first place.

“Where the hell do I get that?”

///

Be it pity or genuinely morbid curiosity, Chase’s professors gave him some leeway for all of the deadlines hanging over his head once the news of the mass hysteria incident in Echo reached the news.

So, after going to the hospital to check that he didn’t have any wounds, he began to actually write down the report he was supposed to deliver. Without nostalgia and regrets, he found himself working like a machine. Paragraph after paragraph would flood the doc until a page was filled in just a few hours.

He was feeling euphoric. Like everything had gone back to normal—he even rekindled his friendship with Carl and he didn’t feel that guilty about Leo anymore. Things were good—perhaps too good, and he should’ve realized that before he crashed headfirst against the wall of reality.

“Chase, you should cut down on the fast food. I know that you had a shit time in your town, but you’re not looking so hot.”

It was someone he barely knew; a smug fox that definitely uttered his words with a hint of vice that he utterly failed to hide. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but that fact only served to aggravate him even more. It was so short, yet he had been thinking about it for days. How the hell was he supposed not to? It was so personal and unnecessary, but at the same time, revealing about himself.

Chase had to check, of course. Throughout all his life, he had never been anything close to overweight. His swimmer’s build was perfect—the myriad of creepy men that messaged him on gay dating apps was enough proof of that—so to lose it felt like losing a part of himself, a fragment of his identity.

When he stood in front of the full-body mirror, it was like a knife being jabbed into his chest. His figure had morphed softer, less sharp. Seeing curvature around what used to be his completely flat chest was tantamount to gazing into the uncanny valley. It didn’t look right, it didn’t look like him.

For a split second, like the world stopped working, Chase thought that he saw his old self in the mirror’s reflection. Not from when he arrived back in his hometown, but before he even left it in the first place.

When I didn’t even have my goatee… And my eyes…

“Hey, Chas—” Carl’s voice broke through the silence before abruptly stopping.

Chase turned around—his fat tail almost sending the mirror tumbling to the ground. Instinctively, he covers his chest despite the fact that Carl had seen him naked once or twice.

“Carl! I told you to knock—”

“Hey, relax.” The ram closed the door before hopping onto bed—completely ambivalent to the otter’s embarrassment. “It’s not like anyone but me saw you. No need to get so huffy.”

“Well, yeah, but what if someone did?”

“Maybe. It’s not like it happened, though.”

Chase was happy for Carl. He really was. After seeing how much of an emotional wreck the ram was, it was genuinely relieving to see him so carefree. The only problem was that he wasn’t used to Carl not being such an easygoing pushover.

“What are you staring at yourself for?”

“Uh…” His eyes’ glance betrayed him as he looked down at his midsection—and that was the silver bullet that Carl needed to piece things together.

“Oh, are you seriously worried about that? Come on, dude. It’s not like being a little heftier is bad. It happens to everyone.” He teasingly rubs his own stomach—clearly proud of his ability to force the adorable, almost shy side of Chase’s persona out. “Still, if you weren’t showing off your bod in the middle of the day, no one would’ve noticed.”

“Someone did, Carl. People in my class are starting to… stare.”

“Shit. Really?” The ram gently strokes his beard. “Well, don’t listen to them. They’re dicks.”

“Maybe…” He gently lifted up the small pouch he had for a stomach. It was odd feeling something so soft around his body. To feel something squishy on him was so foreign that he was a hard time processing it. “I just hope that it doesn’t get that bad.”

“Hey, you could stand next to me to look thinner.” Carl playfully suggested. “I don’t mind being called out for being big. Just more me to love, right?”

“Right…”

///

After growing so desperate that he took all the stuffing from his pillow for the time being, Leo was relieved to see that his order had arrived. He had been utterly energized for the entire week, just eager to see the Chase plush finally fill up and not look like a sad, deflated balloon.

After opening it up and filling it some more, the Chase doll looked more and more well-rounded. He looked… adorable. Leo held him for a second, unwrapping the scarf just for a second before putting it back on. It was nostalgic, in its own unorthodox and admittedly creepy way.

At least it wasn’t alive. That was a start.

“So, um…” Leo gripped his arms. How should he start? He couldn’t just pretend that it wasn’t Chase. He needed closure, and for it to arrive, he had to make it as authentic as possible.

Maybe it didn’t look enough like Chase. Some touches would do the plush good. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. That was the thought process that his mind followed, gently putting the plush on the sewing table again.

///

“God fucking dammit!”

Chase kept pushing the two ends of his cargo shorts together. He could live with an old promotional Pueblo shirt not fitting him, but his favorite clothes failing him? What the hell was he supposed to do with that information?

Ever since that fox’s comment broke down his recently built-up confidence, he had been adamant about fixing up his diet; completely ditching soda, trying to resist the allure of Carl’s constant offers of going out to eat, and even daring to stop putting milk in his coffee, for as drab as it ended up tasting.

Yet here he was, fatter than he had ever been before. His heart pounded so intensely that he could hear it with his red-tipped ears. At first, Chase prayed that it was simply just a case of the dryer shrinking it accidentally, but he wasn’t stupid enough to delude himself like that. The truth was that by some method he had grown.

It was one thing to form a stomach. He could live with that, and it could be lost with just some months in the gym, but to see that his limbs had somehow thickened up left him paralyzed the first time he noticed. His shirts now hugged his frame more snugly, and the beginning of the muffin top was beginning to form thanks to his belly expanding to his sides now.

“How in the fuck did this happen—motherfucker!” Chase screamed through grit teeth.

Carl tossed and turned on his bed. The otter’s screams woke him up, and despite his best attempts at trying to fall asleep, it was clear that that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

“Dude. It won’t fit. Let me sleep…”

“Not my fault that you chose to take night classes so you can sleep the entire morning!” Chase practically hissed, although the look on Carl’s face immediately plunged a twinge of shame into him. “Sorry. Shit. Fuck. I’m just… fuck.”

“You’re clearly upset at this. Just grab one of my shorts.” Carl suggested. “You can keep them if you want. I’m gonna go shopping for more soon.”

“Your clothes? Come on, Carl. I’m a little chubbier, but it’s not like I’ve gotten that big.”

Carl melodramatically gasped. “Are you saying that I’m fat, Chase? You wound me. How could you say that?” He could barely keep himself from bursting into laughter, his smile quivering and cheeks puffing up.

“Ugh, alright, but don’t expect them to fit!”

Chase would quickly find himself swallowing his words as soon as he passed his legs through the pant holes. He was expecting to be able to wriggle his pants—almost as if he was wearing Leo’s clothes when he used to do that back in high school—only to find the shorts fitting just right against his legs.

“What the fuck?”

That was the last thing Carl needed to be pushed over the edge of laughter. He kicked his legs into the air as he cackled madly, much to Chase’s chagrin.

“Oh, fuck you, man!”

“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just that… Oh my god, your face, Chase.”

“Oh, screw you,” Chase muttered. “I’m gonna go to class.”

“Alright, just make sure that you don’t explode, alright?” Carl said—seemingly having taken the hint with Chase’s demeanor—with a gentle tone. “Plus, if someone makes fun of you, fuck ‘em.”

“Uh-huh…”

///

“Just close enough…”

The plush wasn’t soft enough. He had to replicate how soft Chase felt when he had his arms around his petite otter frame. More stuffing. It was needed.

“Just… have to make this… perfect…”

The clock marked two in the morning, yet Leo didn’t focus on that. He had to make sure that his Chase was as close to the real deal.

///

The clock marks two in the morning, and Chase feels like a zombie. His breathing is jagged, uneven, and hoarse. He stumbles down the hall with a drunken-like posture and walking. Everything feels blurry; his surroundings, his sense of smell, his hearing. It’s all a warping, morphing sensory assault on his being.

All from a sudden bout of hunger. From where or how, he didn’t know. It just appeared, like a sickness that strikes when you least expect it. It’s no ordinary craving. His insides are tearing each other apart, aches pulsing through his midsection as they demand sustenance with the ferocity of a starving body.

“What the fuck…” It’s like the incident at the Hendricks’ mansion all over again. Everything around him stops making sense. He’s helpless to do anything but follow on the path of whatever did this t him had set up.

You’re always going in circles…

“Shit, I have to… I’m starving…” Chase places his paw against the wall for support. He limps towards the cafeteria from sheer muscle memory. There’s nothing in his mind other than eating, eating, eating, and more eating. “What the fuck… Who slipped something in my…”

Even outside of Echo… You still can’t escape it.

He can tell that some of the janitors and security guards are giving him some odd looks, but he couldn't care less. As long as he got something to eat, it would all be right. It needed to be alright, because how else was he going to simply exist tomorrow?

Otter… You might have discarded that bracelet, but the wolf’s anchor still holds you down even today.

Chase puts as much money as possible in the vending machine’s slot and sluggishly slams his hand against the keypad. He doesn’t care what he imputed as long as it was edible. He kept pounding at the machine with the grace of a caveman, growling and snarling for each second that he was deprived of food.

As soon as the clump of snacks fell on the pickup box, Chase broke into a sprint and got the hell out of there. With the desperation of hunger gone, the horrible fright of eyes glaring at him starts seeping in. Every doubt, every problem, every fear feels like they simultaneously start raining down on him.

Chase feels like his legs are on fire. Just again—like in the Hendricks Castle—he’s sprinting through his college like a maniac, with the horrible difference being that this time, it’s real.

Sweat seeps into every fiber of his clothing. He feels massive, each step that he takes making him feel like he’s a whale with legs, parading around its hefty body for gawking eyes to see and make fun of.

“Fuck, I need to lose all of this FUCKING WEIGHT!” Chase screams so hard that he can feel his throat dry up as soon as his declaration to the void that was the night sky is done. “FUCK!” He screams again.

Finally, after basically crashing headfirst against the bench near the library, he collapses. His body slides against the bench, and in that brief second of respite, he tears open all the bags he was carrying in his personage. He greedily grabs handfuls of everything and shoves it in his mouth—no matter how odd and undignified the combination in his hands was.

For the seconds when his mouth was filled with food, the chill that coarse through all of his body halted. An overwhelming, all-consuming sensation of serenity washes over him with each chew. His body stops shaking, and his heart starts beating normally once again.

“God… What the hell happened?” Chase asked himself as he bit half of a jumbo chocolate bar with one single motion.

///

He had it all wrong. How could he have been so foolish? Leo paced back and forth, looking at Chase plush. The clothes were the wrong color, the goatee was made of the wrong material, and worst of all, it was too small.

No, it was time to start from scratch again. Even if it meant only getting three hours of sleep per day, he would make the perfect Chase voodoo doll. It was worth it—because, after this, he would be done with Chase, so why not make sure that the process went as perfectly as possible?

///

Chase keeps pulling his shorts up—although they’re still technically Carl’s, with how he keeps soaking them with his sweat and otter musk, he was sure that the ram wouldn’t want them back any time soon.

By now, he had completely given up on losing weight. The hunger was too much. He was a helpless victim to his own desires to grow, and by now, he knew that it was easier to go along with the flow instead of trying to push down those intense desires.

His Pueblo University XL shirt barely managed to cover his stomach. It wasn’t just a pouch anymore, it was a full-on belly. From his belly button to the rest downward, it was exposed to everyone. Chase was pretty much completely numb to the comments. He didn’t have time to worry about what other people thought with his stomach demanding to have its second lunch for today.

“Sooo, uh, dude. What do you want?”

Carl was the only one that wasn’t giving him a hard time about it. Maybe it was just that he didn’t know how to approach the topic, or perhaps the ram saw himself in him. Whatever the case, Chase wasn’t interested in knowing. He just wanted to bask in the small comfort of having someone help him indulge in his uncontrollable desires.

“Just… Anything. I have classes in two hours.” After complaints about his excessive sweating and the natural scent that he emitted, he was moved to online classes for everyone’s—including his—benefits.

“Yeah, of course, dude. You want one or two burgers?”

“Three,” Chase mumbled.

Carl seemingly stops for a second—eyes wide—to make sure that he heard Chase correctly. However, despite the expression on his face displaying nothing but shock, he doesn’t say anything too noteworthy. “Sure.” He shakily says. “Coming right up, bud.”

Chase breathed easily, rubbing his stomach as he staved off his hunger for a few minutes with a family-sized box of chips that was yet another courtesy of Carl.

“Thank you…” He says.

///

“Perfect, perfect!” Leo rubs his face against the stomach of the Chase plush. By now, it’s the size of the beanbag in the corner of his room, and he couldn’t be happier. He is so close to getting done with this project, but there are small imperfections. Chase must be perfect. “Just a little bit more… And then…”

I’m so hungry, Leo…

///

“I’m so hungry, Carl…”

Carl chuckles, seemingly having gotten used to his and Chases’s odd relationship. While he was admittedly worried about the otter’s health, he couldn’t deny that the newfound intimacy between the two was nice.

Chase sat on his bed—which had to be reinforced after he broke it with his gargantuan frame—with nothing to cover his body but a pair of blue boxers with an elastic band. The last time that he stepped on a scale, it read out four hundred and fifty pounds. Of course, Carl was the one that had to check since Chase couldn’t see anything with his massive gut standing in the way.

“Of course. Five burgers coming up for my best friend!” He said with a smile.

///

“So close, to close…” Leo’s mouth hung open and drool dribbled from his tongue to his bed. “You’ll be perfect soon, Chase…”

The doll’s stomach was clearly somewhat torn from the constant ‘adjustments’ Leo had been making on it nonstop. He was on the cusp of perfection. He was finally going to find happiness as soon as he molded this Chase plush into the perfect recreation

Leo… I need to grow bigger…

“I know, I know,” Leo said with an overly stretched smile. “You’ll be… the biggest…”

#echo vn #Project echo #weight gain #fat fur #hypnosis #voodoo

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