Author's note (8th of May 2021): Sorry for the delay, I was incapacitated yesterday. Day 8 should be up in a bit.

7th of May, 20XX, 20:30

Sleep will be welcome tonight. When I woke up this morning, I had thought of going to check on the patient, but as I saw the lineup in front of her house, I thought better. I counted about three men and two women, both of the groups in their twenties or early thirties, waiting for their turn to enter patient R’s house. Many more sleeping bodies were slumped against nearby houses, barely dressed. I could see older villagers assembled in groups, throwing looks of concern left and right at what was happening to their former quiet village. 

In an instant, a loud, low pitched moan broke the morning peace, and R’s house shook to its very foundations. I decided to leave the village behind for a day, and made my exit without being noticed. Well... mostly: at the village’s outskirts, by one of the old wooden sign posts, I saw the patient’s mother. I did wave at her, but all she gave me back was a sneer, her arms crossed. I left her mind to its own.

The trip back down the cliff was uneventful. The temperature was decent, unlike the first time. Once down, it was just a couple of hours by foot on flat land, and from there I reached L. town. After a quick lunch, I eventually met up with doctor V. When he explained to me what they found, I was not entirely surprised, and realized I was half expecting something like that.

Doctor V. discovered that not only were the lymphocytes inside the blood samples still alive, despite being cut off from the source and thus lacking oxygen, but they even reproduced and multiplied on their own at an unprecedented, exponential rate. He told me they had to burn everything in order to prevent a breach of containment. It seems his team had to resort to absolutely extreme heat to even harm something as simple as blood cells, far above what is usually found in nature. My partners expressed incomprehension and I understood all too well. Despite my colleague’s busy schedule, we still found some time to catch up. I divulged some of what happened to him: namely patient R’s growth and my findings that correlated with his in regards to the exponential factor. We briefly brainstormed for solutions, but in the end it was agreed that I should try bringing the patient here. But I know, in fact I am certain, that she would not comply. Nevertheless, I thought to try, bade doctor V. farewell, and left.

I didn’t check the time precisely, but I think it was around six in the afternoon when I reached the cliff path again. Going up, I crossed a couple of the older villagers heading down. None acknowledged me. The village was eerily quiet. The crowds were gone, and a lot of the abodes looked outright abandoned. As I got close to the patient’s house, I couldn’t help but notice a nearby building with it’s door half opened, batting in the wind. I peered inside, and restrained a small cry of surprise as I saw the floor was littered with people profoundly sleeping. I left them to their dreams and continued to check on R.

Even before I entered her place, the smell hit me like a wall. The deep, pungent scent of raw sex, humid and thick with a soft hint of body odour. The door opened with difficulty: a thick, translucent liquid poured out. I stepped in, and noticed R’s thick long hair sprawling on the entirety of the floor. The heat inside the house was unbearable, the same swampy sort as when you stand close to a body under heavy covers on a hot summer night. There, just a couple of meters in front of me, was a grotesquely sized vagina the size of my torso, overgrown with dense pubic hair and crowned with a large, fist sized clitoris. I now understood the liquid on the floor to be accumulation from her vaginal lubricant. Left and right of me were two feet, two thirds of my height, pressed deeply against the walls. Patient R. was completely curled up. She laid on her back, her knees pressing against her breasts, displaying an important flexibility. Her head had traversed the common room and broke into the back kitchen. She seemed to be resting.

I called out to her, and saw her eyes open, heavy with sleep. R pulled her head up to look at me. I asked if she was alright like this. She nodded. I told her the news of the hospital. I was expecting concern, or a sort of negative response. Instead, the more I went into details, the more she smiled. R. understood that it was not she that was in a predicament… but us. Once done, I observed R. being pensive. She looked at me for a moment, and spoke. She told me of her past, of how sheltered she had been forced to be by her parents, former and current, and how she was done with being bossed around. When she had become just a bit taller, she noticed everyone’s behavior changing to one of submission, as if it was instinctive in humans. She even apologized for her lewd behavior, but told me it was out of her control: her body was burning with need. I told her it was probably due to a surcharge of specific hormones linked with her growth, but I’m not sure she understood.

A loud snap behind me broke our conversation. A large crack had appeared in the wall where her feet pressed. “Measure me”, is all she said, with a sort of excitement. Her massive feet were easy enough to note, but I couldn’t measure her legs without climbing on her stomach. I asked her permission, and she nodded. My only way up was by grasping her pubic hair, and pulling myself up. R. appeared unbothered. I measured all the way up her gangly knee, and back down to her waist, and then up to her neck and head, passing breasts that were each half my size. Standing on her laid back shoulder, I thought I was done, but noticed she pulled one of her hands closerto me, and pointed at it with the other. I measured her long, relatively thin middle finger on top of the usual hand length measurement. 

Estimated measurements of patient R. -seventh of May, 19:16-

Height: 7.08 m ( ~23 ¼  ft)

Foot Length: 122.5 cm ( ~4 ft)

Hand Length: 88 cm ( ~3 ft)

Fingers Length: 39.5 cm ( ~1 ¼  ft)

I sat between her breasts, my knees crossed, and read her my data. Her fingers tapped on her curled legs with trepidation. We continued to talk for a while. I asked her why she hasn’t gotten out of the house yet. If she wanted, she could probably push her way out as easily as she did with the kitchen wall. R. told me, and I quote: “I want to be reborn.” If it meant what I thought, this would mean tomorrow would be her birth, judging by the size she now occupies. A few more meters and each direction, and her body would naturally push her out. I also learned that she hasn’t been hungry in a while, and that as time went on, she felt less and less sleepy, other than the sleep she induced herself in from… interacting with the others.

Tomorrow, I will try and talk to her about going to L. town. For now, I need to rest. Just as I’m noting this, R. is telling me I can sleep on her. Maybe I will, this would be a first, like every day of the past week.