Tracie Hicks

Tiffany stared in horror at her reflection, patches of blond hair littering the floor as bloody tears streamed down her face. The promising life she had built for herself – a management position, a home of her own, a Trans-Am, and a circle of friends – felt like a distant memory. The downward spiral had begun with her first marriage, a union that would ultimately shatter her world.

She met him at the local grocery store where she worked. They dated for a few exhilarating months before tying the knot. Eager for a fresh start, Tiffany left her job at the store and ventured into the fast food industry. But the glittering facade of her new husband soon cracked, revealing a monster lurking beneath.

He battered her body, poisoned her mind, and violated her in the vilest ways imaginable. Each passing day chipped away at Tiffany’s spirit, until she finally mustered the courage to escape, knowing her very life hung in the balance. She fled before he could snuff out her final flicker of hope.

Though the divorce granted Tiffany her freedom, it came at a steep price. She lost her job, her car, her home, and the friends she once held dear. Desperate for a fresh start, she chased a promising job opportunity to a new town. But when that prospect evaporated, Tiffany found herself trapped in a dingy low-income apartment, relying on disability checks to scrape by.

The once vibrant woman was twice the size of her former self, topping over 220, fear her constant companion. Two years went by without Tiffany setting foot outside her dreary refuge. Her only human contact came from weekly visits by the landlord, who would find her huddled in bed, eyes glued to her laptop screen as she streamed videos in a futile attempt to numb her pain.

Each week, the landlord brought in the groceries Tiffany ordered online, setting them on the counter beside the untouched bags from the previous delivery. The sour stench of spoiled milk mingled with the pungent rot of molding produce and decomposing meat. The foul odor of decay permeated every corner of the apartment. As he disposed of the wasted food, the landlord silently resolved that enough was enough.

Thin shafts of sunlight pierced the grime-encrusted curtains, illuminating the dance of dust in the stale air. The landlord surveyed the squalid conditions with a heavy heart. Dirty dishes overflowed from the sink, the fetid bathroom crawled with mold, and cobwebs adorned the corners like macabre decorations.

“Tiffany, you need a nurse. And a maid,” he sighed.

“I know,” she mumbled from beneath the covers. “But that means dealing with people. Just talking to you and my therapist over video drains me.”

Shaking his head, the landlord turned to leave. “You’ve got to do something. I’m giving you 60 days to clean this place up, or you’re out. I’ll bring the paperwork tomorrow.”

Tiffany burrowed deeper into her cocoon of sheets, hot tears soaking the fabric as troubled sleep claimed her.

A flickering glow roused Tiffany from her slumber in the predawn hours that Friday. An advertisement illuminated her laptop screen, one of countless pitches for effortless weight loss that cluttered her inbox and social media feeds. They promised miracle cures, but none delivered. Could this one be different?

The ad proclaimed that nearly half the population grappled with shedding excess pounds. Many tried clean eating and rigorous exercise, while others sought an easier path. Astaroth Pharmaceuticals claimed to have the answer: Mostroperdita, an FDA-approved wonder drug guaranteed to melt fat away.

“Lose up to 100 pounds in just 2-3 months!” it boasted. “Say goodbye to sagging skin and grueling workouts. Look and feel years younger. Did we mention it’s FDA approved?”

Tiffany’s eyes narrowed as she scanned for potential side effects, finding only vague mentions of minor issues like nausea and dizziness that would supposedly fade with time. More concerning was the stern warning against mixing the medication with alcohol or other drugs, hinting at possibly lethal consequences. It urged caution when driving or operating machinery.

“Just $29.99 plus shipping for a month’s supply,” Tiffany mused. “What do I have to lose besides this weight?”

Before she could second-guess herself, Tiffany ordered two bottles, shelling out an extra $20 for overnight delivery. The package arrived Saturday morning, carried up by a concerned neighbor.

“Another weight loss scam?” the woman asked, eyeing the box.

“I have a good feeling about this one,” Tiffany replied with forced cheer.

The neighbor handed it over with a sigh. “Just be careful. I hate seeing you get taken by these frauds. Healthy eating and exercise, that’s all it takes.”

“I know. Once I’m mobile again, I’ll start working out. Promise.”

They both knew it was a lie. With a final “Good luck,” the neighbor departed. Tiffany tore into the package, retrieving instructions that matched the online ad. “Take two pills before each meal, three times daily, with an 8-oz glass of water.”

Tiffany hauled herself out of bed and filled a glass from the tap. Shuffling to the kitchen, she prepared a bowl of instant oatmeal. Clutching pills, food, and water, she retreated to her stained mattress. It was time to begin her transformation.

Within a week, Tiffany lost twenty pounds. By month’s end, the scale showed a jaw-dropping 150. The ad’s claims held true – not an inch of excess skin marred her miraculous new figure. She ran reverent hands over her firm, youthful breasts, and taut stomach. At 50, Tiffany had somehow attained the physique of a woman half her age.

Her once lank brown hair now fell in lustrous waves, framing bright eyes untouched by time’s cruel etchings. Porcelain veneers concealed the rot that had consumed her neglected teeth. Boundless energy coursed through her limbs, propelling her on invigorating five-mile runs. The drive to reclaim her space seized Tiffany, and she single-mindedly cleaned the apartment. Her awestruck landlord rewarded her efforts with a fresh coat of paint.

Tiffany’s metamorphosis extended beyond the physical. She landed a grueling factory job on the night shift, earning an honest $17 per hour. At work, she became friends with coworkers, her radiant smile drawing people to her. For the first time in years, joy illuminated her world. Even her reliance on disability payments ended. Tiffany was reborn.

But when she dared to stop taking the pills, the pounds crept back with alarming speed. A closer reading of the fine print confirmed her fears: the medicine was a lifelong commitment if she hoped to maintain her astonishing results. Tiffany accepted this price without hesitation. The alternative was unthinkable.

As the months passed, Tiffany grew bolder. Though still living in subsidized housing, she now paid the full rent. She began venturing out into the world, culminating in a long-denied beach vacation. Clad in a daring bikini, Tiffany basked in the blatant stares and furtive glances from admiring men. At 50, she possessed a figure most 20-year-old women would envy. What could possibly go wrong?

Tiffany soon found herself entangled with a coworker, a man in his early 30s, oblivious to the truth about her age. After a flirty dinner, she accompanied him to his impressive two-story home nestled on a tranquil acre just outside of town. He confined himself to the ground floor to reduce utility costs.

They spent that first intoxicating weekend exploring each other’s bodies and minds, fueled by free-flowing liquor and shared joints. Come Monday, they arrived at work haggard and hungover, every inch the conspicuous new couple. A surprise drug test swiftly brought their empire of indulgence crashing down around them. Faced with a six-week unpaid suspension, Tiffany and her illicit lover resolved to make the most of their involuntary sabbatical.

But in the depths of one passionate night, Tiffany’s world tilted on its axis. Struggling to extricate herself from the tangle of sheets, she crashed to the floor, body exploding in searing agony. On hands and knees, she dragged herself to the bathroom, stomach heaving as she emptied its contents into the porcelain bowl with violent, wracking spasms.

Shaking and sweat-drenched, Tiffany reached out to grab the counter and haul herself upright. Her hand slipped, and she watched in mute horror as one fingernail tore free, clattering to the tile below. A wicked curved claw erupted from the bleeding bed, razor-sharp and gleaming. Pain ripped through her as the remaining nails followed suit, pushed out by their monstrous replacements.

Hyperventilating, Tiffany used her forearms to leverage herself to her feet. Terrified to look but compelled by a desperate need to understand, she witnessed her own unmaking in the mirror’s unforgiving reflection.

Lush chestnut hair fell away in clumps, exposing the vulnerable scalp beneath. Tears of blood carved crimson trails down her face as bestial yellow eyes with slitted pupils stared back in primal horror. Lips cracked and peeled, shredded flesh giving way to a muzzle bristling with jagged fangs that crowded out the last of her flat human teeth.

Skin split and bones cracked, her agonized screams choked to guttural grunts as her skull and skeleton warped into alien new configurations. She yearned to cry out for help, but her voice box mutated into something no longer capable of human speech. Her lover lay passed out in the next room, oblivious to her anguish. The wrenching transformation stretched into an eternity of torment.

As the first light of dawn crept through the window, Tiffany caught sight of her reflection and recoiled in terror. The face staring back at her was no longer human. Serpentine eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, set above a mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs. Scales rippled across her body as she moved, her form now a grotesque fusion of lizard and human.

A primal urge surged through her veins, an insatiable craving for blood. She turned slowly, her gaze falling upon the still form of her lover, and at that moment, she knew there would be no turning back. Animalistic instinct overthrew the last tatters of her humanity. Tiffany, the woman, was no longer in her place, crouched by a remorseless beast wearing the tattered remnants of her skin.

In a burst of blinding speed, the creature who had once been Tiffany pounced, claws sinking into yielding flesh, fangs tearing through the vulnerable throat. Hot blood spurted, the tang of iron thick on her forked tongue as she feasted. Bones snapped like kindling between powerful jaws. Within minutes, she had reduced her lover to a pile of wet, gnawed scraps.

As the red haze of hunger receded, a new awareness dawned. Tiffany walked to the window on taloned feet and scaled hands, leaving smears of gore on the sill. Early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds dappled her reptilian hide. The world beyond called out to her, teeming with prey. The hunt beckoned.

One last thought flickered in her fading consciousness before the animal impulse won out: one should be careful when mixing drugs. A final shudder rippled through her powerful frame, and then she was away, bounding into the unsuspecting world with a snarl of dark glee.