“I…I’m not sure about this,” Tim muttered as he shifted in his seat.
“Oh don’t be such a pussy,” Dave shook his head and gave his friend a slight nudge, “You said you wanted to get better at horror.”
“I know, I know,” Tim looked around, “But look at this place.” This theatre was nothing like the polished cinemas in the city. The building’s design was straight out of the Reinassance; the marble pillars and red walls captured a moment from centuries ago. It did not help that the building was in terrible shape. There were cracks all over the construction, as well as cobwebs in the corners and under the seats. Tim, Dave, and the strange receptionist were the only people in the building, and the place lacked the noise and hustle of modern day movie theatres. Tim could clearly hear his own breathing, Dave’s breathing, and the low hum of the projector behind him.
“Sets the atmosphere, doesn’t it?” Dave grinned.
“Why do you think nobody’s here?” Tim asked.
“Cause we’re in the fucking middle of nowhere. You expect this place to be like Fort Square?”
“I guess not…” Tim looked down at his feet.
“Just think about this like this mate,” Dave spoke as the lights slowly faded, “No matter how shit this experience is, it was only 2 bucks, so it’ll still be worth it.”

Soon the room was in complete darkness, and the projector lit a large white screen in front of the two boys.
“Holy shit!” Tim was taken back by the sudden brightness.
“You jumping cause of that?!” Dave laughed as he pointed at the screen, “Nothing’s even happened yet bro.”
“Shut up,” Tim shook his head with a smirk. As they watched the screen, two words appeared on the white background: “The Countess”.
“Is the Countess the monster?” Tim asked.
“Probably,” Dave shrugged, “You think she’ll have no eyeballs?”
“Why would you put that image in my head?”
“Maybe she has like three heads coming out of her fucking neck. Or maybe she has these huge ugly tits and she makes people suck on them.”
“I don’t like your imagination,” Tim frowned, “How do you come up with this crap?”
“I’m kind of a genius,” Dave responded. The screen transitioned from the title card to a still shot of a traditional kitchen.
“Woman,” a male voice was heard, “Where is my supper?”
“I have not the time yet,” a timid female voice replied.
“Not the time?!” the male shrieked, “What in God’s name have you been doing?”
“I’ve had a knot in my stomach since the sunrise,” the woman explained, “I’m afraid I’ve caught something. I’ve been trying to do my usual. Cleaning our clothes, dusting our house, and reading to your son. Making supper was next, but the knot has slowed me down. My apologies, I will be at the kitchen right away.” The lower half of the woman entered the camera. She seemed to be wearing a black corsette, and her long legs were vividly displayed on the screen.
“Daaaaamn,” Dave commented, “She got booty though.”
“Is that the Countess?” Tim asked, unable to peel his eyes away from the lady’s legs.
“I don’t know,” his friend replied, “I can tell you this though. She gon get fucking murdered.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Hot girls always get killed in these things,” Dave explained, “You’ll see.”
“You know the importance of my work,” the man in the movie snarled, “I spend all day in slaving away for the good of this city, no matter the weather or mood. Because I am a man, and even if there is a knot the size of the Atlantic in my belly, I will do my manly duty.”
“Darling,” the woman turned around, “I told you I was—“
“But you,” the man continued, “You cannot even fulfill basic womanly duties. You are a failed woman, a wench!” The man stepped into the shot, and his elegant purple pants were visible.
“Aw dude, you’re blocking the view!” Dave yelled out.
“Darling please,” the woman’s voice shook man seemingly pressed into her, “You don’t know your own strength.”
“And you don’t know your own worth!” the man shrieked, “I will show you the only thing you are good for.” The woman could be heard crying as the man dragged her out of the shot.
“Damn,” Dave shook his head, “That’s fucked up.” He turned to Tim, who was heavily panting with clenched teeth.
“You okay?” Dave asked. Tim slowly turned to his friend.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “It was just a lot.”
“Tell me about it,” Dave chuckled. The next scene featured a dimly lit wine cellar, with the woman crumpled on the floor.She leant against the cellar wall, and her whole body could be seen. She had an elegant figure and a sizable bosom, all contained in her tight black corsette. Her long black hair complemented her pale skin. One of her eyes were swollen shut, and she had a handprint on her cheek. Her makeup was tattered by her tears. Despite these flaws, her beauty was adamanent. Seeing this, Tim gave out a deep sigh.
“You getting horny over there?” Dave nudged his friend.
“What?” Tim denied, “No.”
“I get it I get it,” Dave spoke, keeping his eyes on the woman, “She is…fucking stunning. What’d I say about the huge tits though, huh?” The two boys stared in awe as this beautiful woman quietly sobbed. She then began to sing.
“I feel so small,” she sang, “Like an infant that crawls. Like a red leaf in the fall. Like a shadow on the wall.”
“What a beautiful voice,” Tim muttered.
“Timmy you falling in love with her,” Dave teased, “Wanna try to find the actress’s name?”
“I feel so small,” the woman continued, “A bloody beatened whore. Let our worlds be torn, and I’ll be small no more.”

The woman suddenly jumped towards the camera.
“Oh fuck!” Dave yelled out, jumping out of his seat, “Holy shit, that was good, that was good.” The woman’s face now filled the screen, and the boys could see every detail on her beaten skin. She stared at the camera as her breathing became heavier.
“What the fuck is she doing?” Dave shook his head. The woman reached for the camera, and her slender fingers came out of the screen and into the real world. The two boys stared in shock as the woman’s gigantic hand continued to leave the movie and into the theatre.
“Damn, CGI crazy these days,” Dave commented. The giant hand slammed down on the ground in front of them, leaving yet another crack on the floor.
“That’s not CGI,” Tim looked up at the woman, whose eyes were set on the two of them.
“What the fuck,” Dave slowly stood up, “W-w-we should…get out here.” The woman’s second hand exited the screen and came into the real world, followed by her tattered yet gorgeous face. Her mouth curled into a vicious grin.
“Let’s get the fuck out,” Dave began to back away from the screen. Tim stayed seated, frozen in place with his eyes wide open. He gulped as he made eye contact with the gigantic woman pouring out of the screen.
“Tim,” Dave called out, “Tim! Get up! GET UP!”
“My my,” the woman spoke, continuing to stare at Tim, “What have you brought this time, darling.”
“Countess…” was all Tim could mutter, before the woman leaped towards him, now completely exiting the movie world. Her breasts landed on the boy, smothering him into his seat. The woman slowly rubbed against him with her giant tits, and his muffled screams could be heard from underneath.
“TIM NO!” Dave yelled, “Oh shit fuck this.” He ran towards the entrance of the theatre and pulled on the door. It was locked. He turned around to see the woman crawling towards him, her bruised yet feirce gaze piercing his direction.
“Where are you going darling?” her soothing voice boomed across the room, “Come here.”
“HELP!” Dave punched the door, “THERE’S A MONSTER IN HERE, HELP!” Slender yet gigantic fingers curled around him, forming a firm grip around his body. Dave yelled out a blood curdling scream as he was lifted off the floor and pulled towards the woman. He squirmed and thrashed, but her grasp was too tight. She positioned him in front of her face, studying him with her beaten eyes.
“You look…scrumptious,” she commented.
“LET ME GO!” Dave yelled.
“You want to escape,” she replied, “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
“What are you gonna do to me?” Dave shook his head, continuing to squirm. The woman brought him close to her face, her bruised lips brushing against his ear.
“The Count put me in my place,” she whispered, “Now I will put you in yours.” Dave cursed, screamed, thrashed, and tried his everlasting hardest to escape. But he was helpless as the woman lowered him towards her cleavage. She inserted him feetfirst between her breasts. As she pushed him down, Dave could feel her soft yet firm flesh envelop his tiny body.
“Please,” he began to sob, “I’m just a kid. My mom is waiting for me.”
“Darling,” the woman continued to push him deeper into her bosom, “I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.” Soon, Dave was completely submerged in her flesh, tightly secured between her  boobs. The woman stuck her hand inside her cleavage, pushing him further and past her breasts. His struggling body slowly left the confines of her boobs and into the tight grip of her corsette. Lower and lower the woman pushed, until he was strapped against her warm belly. He could hear faint voices from inside.
“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US! PLEASE!” All Dave could think to do was scream until his voice gave out.

Tim stood up, his legs faint from his orgasm. He looked up at the giant woman, peacefully sitting cross-legged on the theatre floor. A squirming outline of a man could be seen on her stomach, tightly trapped between her corsette and body. She gently stroked the outline as she turned her eyes on Tim.
“Darling,” she spoke, her voice quivering, “I’m scared.” A tear fell from her eye.
“Aren’t we all,” Tim responded. The woman smirked as she wiped the tear off her bruised cheek. She turned around to face the empty wine cellar on the screen. She sighed as she reached towards it, and she began to return to the world of the film, as suddenly and gracefully as she left it. Tim watched as the tips of her toes disappeared into the movie, and the screen went dark.

The receptionist looked up as Tim entered the lobby.
“Another one gone,” he said to the boy.
“Yeah,” Tim grimly nodded as he headed for the exit.
“Must you keep sending these men to their dooms?” the receptionist asked.
“Must the Count treat her like a shitstain?”
“I suppose. Then again, I wonder if you are doing this for justice, or for love.” Tim stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the receptionist.
“I don’t pay you to analyze me,” the boy snapped. He turned around once more, leaving the theatre and embracing the night sky.

Hello everyone, my name is Eric Doyle, and I am a paranormal investigator. I have been investigating paranormal incidents for 15 years. Most reports are flukes, triggered by distortions in the air current or mice living within walls. Usually, our biggest enemy is our paranoia. Usually.
That’s what the police told Abigail Ellington, a college student from Minnesota, who reported suspicions of being stalked. Having no proof to support her claims, local police advised her to lock her doors and calm down. On December 15th, 2022, 9 days before Christmas, Ellington was murdered in her apartment. When her body was found, her arms were cut off and attached to her feet, and her newly elongated form was propped like a snake. This is the signature move of the Snake Dancer, a lesser known serial killer from Florida. I guess the Minnesota police department was not ready for threats from another state, especially Florida. Have you been to Florida? Anyhow, let’s get to the point. I’m not a criminal investigator; I am a paranormal investigator.
Ellington was buried in Tearstone Graveyard, the very grave we are about to enter. Three days after Ellington’s burial, I began receiving reports of paranormal activities by the locals. They claim to have heard a woman’s moans echoing through the dark night, and some even have heard the words “come to me”. The human imagination is very powerful, and I believe the disturbing event of Ellington’s burial has distorted people’s perception of something as simple as the wind blowing. The consonants of “come” and “to” are very reminiscent of the crackling of leaves and branches, and is too common a phrase to raise any alert signs. But I am not Eric Doyle if I did not come to confirm my suspicions with my own eyes and ears. I don’t want to be like the Minnesota police department, do I?
So here I am, entering Tearstone Graveyard. It is exactly 12:01, around the time when paranormal activity is most likely reported. I believe horror media has conditioned people to believe that supernatural threats appear after midnight, which is a strange yet fascinating phenomenon. Let’s see if they were right this time. Tearstone has what one would call a creepy atmosphere, which probably did not help with the locals’ paranoia. The gravestones are set up in eerie rows, most of which having cracks and moss. Bugs, and even mice, can be seen scurrying around the ground, which may have caused the words “come to me” to be heard. There are dead trees scattered around the graveyard, all casting gnarly black shadows on the stones. Is it just me, or will this whole incident be solved if someone took better care of this place? For example, why is there no pathway? Why do I have to walk on soggy—


…Did you guys hear that? That sounded strangely like a woman’s moan, which was the exact description in the reports. Wow, it’s fascinating how quickly this creepy grave has infiltrated my imagination. And I’m supposed to be a professiona—

“COME.”

What…was that? That sounded like a whisper, not crackling of leaves. Hmm, it came from north, so let’s investigate. Wow, look how muddy this is, it’s so hard to walk. I am probably undergoing confirmation bias, which is a common fallacy seen in paranormal—

“COME TO ME.”

…Huh. Ladies and gentlemen and everything in between, I’m starting to think we’re in for a treat. My ears cannot fool me to this extent, can it? I believe we may actually be dealing with the paranormal today. This is…this is exciting…I can barely keep a straight face! Okay, what’s this? This looks like a fairly new gravestone; it’s in better shape than the others. Oh damn…you guys see this? Ahem, “Abigail Ellington, a scholar, a daughter, a friend. Taken too soon, 1998-2022”. Wow, poor girl. Her family must’ve been devastated. Look, there’s even flowers here, although they’re pretty much wilted. I should’ve brought new ones. Imagine being buried in this place. So dark, so cold, so…what the fuck is that???

Okay, okay, okay, I’m going to whisper now. Do you see that, by that tree over there? That is unlike anything I have seen in my entire career. It’s a person, a girl, hugging and burying her face into that tree. She’s um…transparent and blue. She’s also fucking huge. She is almost as tall as that tree itself. I’m gonna try not to catch her attention, who knows what she is capable of. But let’s get a better shot of her. Let me step right here and…oh shit she’s looking right at me. Maybe she didn’t notice me. Okay, she has let go of the tree and is now walking towards me. Do I run? Do I hide? No, Eric, momma did not raise a quitter. It’s time for a paranormal encounter. Her steps are timid, but her gigantic size turns them into leaps. I could not outrun her if I wanted. I’m getting a better look at her. Wow she is gorgeous. She’s butt naked though, is this gonna be demonetized? Ah fuck it, it’ll be worth it. Let me wave to her. Okay here she is, she has stopped right in front of me. I am face to face with her gigantic transparent toes. Wow, it’s exactly like a human’s toes, yet its size and material make them so alien. Okay, she is staring right at me.
“YOU CAME.”
Um…um yeah. I did. Are you…Abigail? Abigail Ellington?
“YOU KNOW MY NAME.”
I came to pay my respects. I’m sorry about what happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.
“WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”
I’m Eric. I’m a paranormal investigator, although this is the first time talking to a…a ghost. Well except that one time. Wait…what are you doing? Did I offend you or someth…You want me to climb on your hand?
“COME TO ME.”
Is that even possible? Only one way to find out…huh? Okay, this is for the people watching, but Abigail has offered me her palm. She wants me to get on, and I don’t think I have a choice but to comply. So here we go. Wow, her skin is actually solid, and I can stand on it. But it’s the weirdest feeling; I can’t feel anything under my feet. It feels like I am floating, but I’m clearly standing on her. Ooookay she is lifting me up now. I’m in God’s hands. Or I guess Abigail’s hands.
“YOU’RE FUNNY.”
Oh thank you. I uh…I try. Us content creators, we always have to try.
“YOU’RE CUTE.”
Uhhh, thaank you. For the record, I think you’re gorgeous. I guess you WERE gorgeous. Sorry, too soon? Oh no no no, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to…oh fuck. I must say, I have never made a ghost cry, this is a really interesting day.
“EVERYONE CALLED ME PRETTY.”
Um…well I don’t blame “everyone”.
“EVEN HE DID.”
He? Who?
“BEFORE HE KILLED ME.”
Ohhhh, him.
“I WAS TOUCHING MYSELF.”
Woah, that’s a sudden change in topic.
“HE DIDN’T LET ME FINISH.”
Wait, are you saying he killed you right before you ejaculated? Even for a serial killer, that is cold.
“NOW IT’S ALL I CRAVE.”
Damn. I’m so…sorry to hear that. I wish I could help—HEY! What are you doing? This is so weird, I can’t move but…I can’t feel a thing. You’re grabbing me right, that’s what you’re doing?
“YOU CAN HELP ME.”
Okay what the hell do you mean by that?
“YOU WILL HELP ME.”
Woah woah woah what the hell? I’m not sure if this is necessary. Okay, I am forcefully being lowered down. Can I move? No, I am firmly stuck in her grip. I am now staring directly at a gigantic transparent ghostly vagina. That’s a tongue twister, ain’t it? Try saying “gigantic transparent ghostly vagina” fast three times. Okay, she is putting me inside. Ohhhh shiiiit…what the fuuuck. The inside of her womanhood is…misty? I’m inside her body, but I don’t see organs, walls, nothing. My vision is just blurred by a blue mist, and I can still see the outside world. Okay, I am beginning to be moved in a thrusting motion. It’s getting faster. Holy shit…I am being fucked by a ghost! This is definitely getting demonized. Oh my God it’s getting faster. Hey Abigail, calm down. The only feeling I have is the clothes on my skin, and the world around me jolting back and forth in currents. She’s moaning louder and louder as the movement gets faster. Oh my god, I feel dizzy. I’m gonna throw up. I…that was a big moan. Okay…she’s stopped.
“THANK YOU.”
Oh! Uh, no problem. I hope I helped?
“I LIKE YOU.”
Thank you. You keep making me blush over here.
“YOU’RE MINE NOW.”
Okay that’s not entirely necessary…WOAH. Fuck. She has now pushed me deeper, and I am completely submerged in her body. I can…I can move around in here; it’s like swimming in air.
“I WILL TAKE CARE OF YOU.”
She really plans on keeping me with her? I need to get out! Good thing I can swim around in her body. Shit, the edge of her body is still solid; I’m trapped. Okay, she’s starting to walk back to the tree, but she’s not paying attention to me. I can probably go out where I came in…but she’ll probably just shove me back in. Unless… Alright, let’s try this. Let’s just swim down, and behind her. This is where an asshole is right? So there should be a hole riiiight around….HERE! Ohhh shit I’m out. Ohhhh shit I’m falling. OUCH!
“NOOOOO.”
Oh shit she’s noticed me. Maybe it’s too late, but time to run as fast as my legs will take me. Damn, I really should work on my cardio. Wait, why is she not following me? Oh look at her. She’s just leaning against the tree, staring at me.
“DON’T LEAVE.”
I’m sorry Abigail. I can’t stay with you; I have more paranormal encounters to investigate. But this…this was great. This was life changing.
“COME TO ME.”
I’m sorry. I hope you find peace.
“COME TO ME.”

Thomas did not get to see the lights often. Thomas never got what he wanted. He could not go to the city with his friends, eat the food he liked, or even talk to a girl. All he could do was sit in his wheelchair, watching the world pass him by. Thomas’s mother tried her best to make him the happiest boy in the world. But how could she, when he could never tell her what he wanted? How could she know that he hated cartoons? How could she know that he thought chocolate was disgusting? How could she know that his classmate called him “Professor X”, and that he wanted to kill himself if he could move his own arm? But Thomas’s mother tried, and he loved her dearly for that. Not that he could tell her.

But the lights at the carnival were something she always got right. Every year, Thomas’s mother would take him to the street carnival, and they were the best nights of his static life. This was the one night where everybody was too distracted with the glitz and the glam to give him pitied looks. This was the one night where he was just like everybody else. He watched in glee at the roller coasters he could not ride, the popcorn he could not ask for, and the pretty girls he could not talk to.

His mother had run off to buy tickets to the carnival show, which was the grand climax of the night’s events. But something inside her did not want to wait in a long line with Thomas. So, she parked him in front of a harmless yellow tent with the sign: “Zippy the Clown”. Thomas noticed the tent moving. Who, or what, could be inside? Suddenly, the tent’s zipper opened, and two hands in black gloves came out. The gloves pulled the tent door aside, and out came a clown.
Thomas had seen clowns before. He was used to the colourful hair and clothes. He was used to the white makeup on her face. He was even used to the bright red nose. But something about Zippy was different. She seemed to wear less clothes than other clowns, and this made him feel different. She was not funny like the other clowns; she was something else. He liked her. She beckoned him over with her index. Thomas wanted so badly to go to her, but his mother was not there to push him. Noticing this, Zippy slowly walked towards him, pulling a deflated balloon out of her pocket. She blew it up and handed it to Thomas. While he could not receive it, Zippy noticed a tiny glint in his eyes. He liked it. She pointed at the balloon and made a shocked face, humorously bonking it with her head. Thomas’s eyes sparkled. Zippy let go of the balloon, letting it float away. She reached into her other pocket and presented a lollipop. There was no glint in Thomas’s eyes. She made a disgusted face at the lollipop, giving it a thumbs down before throwing it to the side. She reached her hands into her cleavage and pulled out a single piece of popcorn. There was a glint in Thomas’s eyes, making her clap proudly. She gently leaned towards him, bringing the popcorn to his mouth. It was the best thing Thomas had ever tasted. Zippy lightly patted him on the head. She then circled around him, standing behind his wheelchair. She looked to her left, then to her right. She grabbed the handles on Thomas’s wheelchair and began to wheel him towards her tent. As he watched the tent get closer, he was not quite sure if he felt excited or scared. Maybe a mixture of both. Either way, there was nothing he could say or do. What’s new.

The inside of Zippy’s tent was wonderful as it was bizarre. On one side was a mattress with a sleeping bag. On the other was a short table full of props. Thomas could see cards, balloons, candy, a bowl of strange pink liquid, and knives. Zippy snapped her fingers, ordering Thomas to turn his attention to her. She turned around and began slowly circling her butt in front of him. Seeing this, Thomas felt the mound between his legs stand up. It was the one thing in his body that moved on its own, although involuntarily. Zippy slowly sat down on Thomas’s unmoving lap. She grinned as she felt his erection underneath her, which only seemed to be growing. She placed a hand on Thomas’s unmoving hand, gently stroking his fingers. She stood back up, turned to face him, and kneeled. She checked to see that his eyes were sparkling like the summer sky. She reached towards his crotch and slowly unzipped his pants. She pulled down his underwear, exposing his erection. Her gloved fingers wrapped around his manhood, and she began to gently stroke. Thomas’s body jolted in excitement. She leaned her face towards his membrane and began to suck. This was the best moment of Thomas’s entire life. He was experiencing an explosive euphoria between his legs, one that she knew he wanted without telling her so. Little did he realize that his pleasured body was shrinking. Slowly but surely, his body was becoming smaller in his wheelchair. He only noticed this phenomenon when his head sank inside his shirt. But there was nothing he could say or do. What’s new. Soon, his tiny body was lifted out of his clothes, his manhood between the lips of Zippy’s now gigantic lips. Her gloved hands arrived to insert his legs inside her mouth, and she began furiously sucking his lower half. All Thomas could do was experience the wet and slimy service of Zippy’s mouth and tongue. For the first time in his life, Thomas experienced the glory of ejaculation. For the first time in his life, he felt his entire body shake with pleasure, as his heart developed feelings for the clown. For the first time in his life, he experienced post nut clarity. His mind began to race. What was happening to him? Why was he now the size of a lollipop? Why was he now at the mercy of a giant clown? Where was his mother? Zippy did not let his mind race much further, as her teeth chomped down on Thomas’s body. Pleasure was replaced by indescribable pain. Thomas watched as the legs he had hated his whole life left his body, sliding down Zippy’s throat. She grabbed him by the head and pulled out his remains, dangling him in front of her eyes. She silently laughed as she pointed at him. As Thomas’s body came still, Zippy pulled out a white plastic stick from her back pocket. She shoved it up Thomas’s torso. After that, she dipped him into the bowl of strange pink liquid. She heard footsteps outside. A child called for her name. She took out a newly made lollipop from the bowl of strange pink liquid and safely tucked it in her cleavage. She smiled, as she pulled her tent doors open.