Priscilla’s eyes widened in fear. “Something is wrong,” she said. 

I watched in stunned silence as Priscilla began to grow. Unlike before it was not a uniform expansion, but a mismatched inflation. Like a parade float being filled with helium Priscilla’s appendages expanded one or two at a time, blowing up to comic sizes before deflating again as growth distributed to other parts of her body. Pain wracked her face and she doubled over. 

“Aaaaaaah, it hurts! Dylan! HELP ME!”

Startled into action I grabbed Priscilla’s shoulders and pulled her back down on the bed. She toppled over without resistance and curled into the fetal position against the sheets. A sheen of sweat covered her still-expanding body. “Lie down,” I said. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

“NO!” she shouted.

“Are you out of your mind? You need medical assistance!” I shouted back

Her hand snatched my collar with inhuman strength. “Then YOU- Aaaaaaa- help. I’d rather- aaaaaaaggggh- die than- nnnnnnnggggg- fail now.”

“Fail? What the hell are you talking about?” I said, panic rising in my chest. Her body was already as tall as the bed.

Priscilla groaned again and gasped, “Make a new serum- rrrrraAAAAAGGH- something to counter the first.”

“I don’t even know what the first serum is doing yet!” 

Tears were streaming down Priscilla’s agony contorted face, “Please, Dylan.” Another wave of pain made her mouth open in a silent scream. When it ended she panted for a moment and said, “I’m begging you. If you call an ambulance now, we’re both dead.”

“What?” 

“My mother- AAAAH- won’t let this get out.”

I stopped moving. “What the fuck have you gotten me into?” I said angrily.

Another voiceless scream wracked Priscilla’s body as her ankles pushed over the edge of the bed, one foot half again as large as the other. Tears squeezed from her eyes as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

Thoughts raced through my mind faster than I could keep track of them, but one thing was clear. Priscilla needed help- immediately. I jumped up and pulled her blood sample from my pocket and slammed it into place in the lab’s gear. A few seconds later the computer began generating a full DNA analysis. I scanned the readout as it scrolled rapidly by. “This is wrong,” I said. “This isn’t your DNA, and there is too much repetition. This shouldn’t be anyone’s DNA.” I continued scanning the data. “This is way beyond what GTS could do, what the fuck is this Priscilla?”

A groan came from the bed, “nng-eered me.”

“What?” I said, unable to turn away from what I was seeing on the screen. The sound of steadily ripping fabric came from behind me.

When she spoke again I heard her clearly say, “I’m genetic-aaah- engineered.”

Suddenly everything made sense. Embryonic genetic engineering was the only way to achieve the kind results I was seeing. It had been outlawed worldwide for nearly two decades- ever since Brazilian Pandemic. In most places it was a crime punishable by death. Someone running a company for the Big Five would probably go to any lengths to cover it up. Fear would have been a rational response, but I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. It was incredibly exciting.

“This is insane,” I said, captivated by the data despite Priscilla’s relentless expansion. There was far too much to analyze quickly but the sheer perfection of everything made comprehending it straightforward. I realized suddenly that I could do this. I could fix her.

“Okay Priscilla, listen carefully. I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I need you to answer as best you can. Okay?”

Another groan emitted from the bed followed by a strained, “Yes.”

“Have you ever been sick?”

“No.”

“Received vaccinations of any kind?

“No.”

I continued asking questions and glanced behind me periodically to see her legs dangling off the bed, her dress in tatters, her breasts swelling to the size of watermelons. These details were interpreted as data points as I constructed a counter-serum. My predictions proved effective as she answered question after question in the way I anticipated. In record time the counter-serum was taking shape. 

I asked a final question, “How frequently are you aroused?”

She hesitated then said, “Always.”

My hands stalled above the keyboard. That was worse than expected. Priscilla let out a scream so loud that most of the floor must have heard. There was no time. I made some final adjustments and began the synthesizing process. A creaking noise came from the bed and I turned to see it sagging beneath Priscilla’s weight. She was easily over eight feet tall.

“Dylan.” She sounded exhausted and delirious, “I... tired... disappointment.”

I moved to her side, brushed sweat-slicked hair out of her eyes, and beheld a portrait of suffering. Her eyes were shut tightly, her nostrils flaring as she choked down short, labored breaths. “I understand,” I said. I didn’t say that I wasn’t ready to forgive her. There was time for that later, I needed to save her life first. 

The serum was still synthesizing when her head began to expand grotesquely. Then even her cries stopped, and I began to dread. When I finally administered the counter-serum I prayed that if it didn’t fix her it would put an end to her suffering.

Mercifully, she passed out. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the swelling went down. Her body regained a uniform size as she began to shrink. I watched quietly as her body diminished back into the regular human range. When the process ended I measured her naked, sleeping form against the bed and guessed her new height to be a few inches shy of six feet tall. Her clothes were in tatters so I covered her with a sheet.

I don’t know how long I sat in silence watching her sleep peacefully as tension and adrenaline drained out of me but when she opened her eyes I felt very much like sleeping myself. “Dylan?” she said drowsily.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“It worked?” Her eyes blinked sluggishly.

“It worked. But there is bad news.”

“Oh Dylan.” Priscilla’s eyes flew open. She sat up and embraced me, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

I extracted myself from her hug and said, “Your DNA has mutated.” She returned my gaze with an unreadable look. I continued, “I’ve stalled the rampant growth, but I don’t know what other side-effects there will be. Your physiology is... beyond human.”

“I will still grow?” Priscilla asked nervously.

I hesitated, unsure whether to tell her what I suspected. On second thought I realized not knowing might be even more dangerous than knowing. “Yes,” I replied. “That much seems certain. My theory is the hormones generated by your arousal block your body’s growth hormones. This has probably always been the case. In fact, a standard genetic analysis should have proven this.” I looked at her accusingly.

Priscilla avoided my gaze. “All of my public records are forgeries, mother wouldn’t let anyone study me. She told me I didn’t reach my potential because I was undisciplined. I even went searching for the team that... created me.” She stopped speaking abruptly.

“And?” I asked impatiently.

“They were gone.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Gone where? To other companies? Other countries? What?”

“Just… gone,” Priscilla said softly. Silence fell like a pall. A door slammed shut somewhere in the building. When Priscilla spoke again she sounded on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I-”

“Don’t. Just... don’t. I’ve had all I can take for one day.” I sighed wearily and began my explanation again, “You should think of growth like a river and arousal like a dam. Normally the dam was enough to hold back the river, but when you drank the first formula the river began to overflow. When your arousal subsided-”

“The dam broke,” Priscilla said, regaining her composure.

“Right. But that’s not the important part.” I shook my head, already regretting what I was about to say. “I had to strengthen the dam. There wasn’t any other way, there wasn’t time.” 

“What do you mean ‘strengthened the dam’?” Priscilla asked with trepidation.

“I made your libido stronger. How much, I can’t say. Right now constant arousal is the only thing keeping you from growing.”

“Are you saying I’m going to grow every time I orgasm?” Priscilla said incredulously, subconsciously squeezing her legs together.

“Yes, that is what I’m saying.”

“How much?”

“Each time? I dont know. It will take me weeks to properly analyze all the data. More than a person would typically grow in a day. A noticeable amount. A lot.”

“I see.” Priscilla did not sound especially upset by this news. I stood up. I needed to get outside and clear my head. “You’re leaving?” she asked.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll need another sample, your DNA is still mutating.” I explained, and left. 

Down the stairs, out through the gaudy foyer, and into the street. I didn’t stop until I reached my bed. Everything seemed distant and surreal, a world seen through the fog of perpetual lightheadedness. Before my head hit the pillow and I plunged into blissful sleep I had only one clear thought: 

I had created a monster.