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The Mr. Night Chronicles: The Ring - Prologue - by Toby115 (~BBW, ~~WG, Magic)

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Toby115

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~BBW, ~~WG, Magic - An uptight businesswoman buys a ring that might not be as great of a deal as she thought

The Mr. Night Chronicles: The Ring
By: Toby115


The Prologue

It was a bright Friday afternoon and the lunch rush at the Empire Mall was just wrapping up. Stacy Allen was just heading back to her office, where she had just received a leadership position, from lunch with her friend, Julie Stein. Just as Stacy was leaving the food court, she spotted Night's Antique Shop and, having been a rare antique collector, decided to step in and see if there was anything there. As she walked in, a little chime could be heard, alerting Mr. Night of a potential customer, so he walked out of the back office. In the antique shop, he decided to stick with the wizened old man look, as he felt he was able to better connect with the customers.

Stacy's back was to him when he came out, so he a second to get a look at her. She blonde hair was done up in a tight bun, but he guessed at about shoulder length. She stood about 5'7” with a very correct posture. He approximated her weight to be about 120 pounds. She was dressed in professional office attire, which consisted of 2” heels, knee length black skirt, black blazer, and a light blue blouse. But, while professional, it did allow for her to look like a woman. The skirt and the heels did a marvelous job at showing off her tight bottom and trim waist. As she slowly turned, he noticed that the top buttons had been left undone to show off her ample bosom. And ample it was, for it was at least a D-cup. She had a narrow face and moderately high cheekbones, which showcased some beautifully blue eyes. She did look like she had been spending too much time inside, for she was a little pale, but not grub worm white. Basically, putting everything together, and she was the standard for a perfect 9, which was still really good. Spotting him, she put down the trivial thing she had picked up and walked over to the counter.

“Hello, are you the proprietor of this establishment?” she asked, in a cold, monotone tone. While there was no warmth in her voice, she also had no malice in it. It was just a question, straight and to the point.

“Why, yes, I am. Mr. Night, at your service. How might I help you today?” he asked with a smile.

“What do you have in your rarer collection? I'm a rare antique collector, you see,” she stated plainly. “I just received a large promotion and pay raise, and this is how I celebrate. I know every antique store has one and somehow I have somehow missed your store. So, I would like to see what you have.”

“I see. Well, just give me a second. I have a box in the back.”

“Of course. I will wait then.”

Mr. Night disappeared back into the small office and grabbed the special box off the desk and brought it back out. “Is there anything in particular you collect? Jewelry, mirrors, coins...?”

“Generally, it is jewelry, although I do find the occasional mirror or brass pan. Not much in the coin business. I do enough with money, as is the case,” she said as the examined the items in the box.

“Well, I do have this, if you are into jewelry,” as he pulled out a little velvet box and showed it to her. “It's a flawless 1-carat white diamond ring, with real 24-carat gold. The cut is a Mazarin cut, as you can see.”

“What is the story on it?” she asked as she got out her jeweler's lens to check it. “How did it get to you?”

“Sixty years ago, my wife's friend sold it to me to pay off her debts. I think it was her grandmother's, but I have no idea exactly how old that makes the ring. There is not inscription, but the card is in the roof of the box. As the exact date of purchase on it and who I bought it from.”

“It certainly is authentic. How much are you willing to part with it for?”

“How does five thousand sound to you?”

For a second, he thought he saw the faintest flicker of a smile on her face and he knew he had her. He knew the ring itself was almost priceless, considering how old it was, and he knew she knew that. But, he felt she needed to get to out more, be alive, and he knew that ring would help her. For the time being, he felt playing the senile card was just the way to go to wrangle her in.

“Absolutely. Do you take credit or debit?”

“Oh, with these changing times. What has the world come to? I remember the days of cash only. Anyway, I can do either.”

“Wonderful,” she said, still looking at the ring.

“You know, I bet it would great on you. Go on, try it on.”

She looked at him for a second, then back at the ring, shrugged, and tried it on her right ring finger. Amazingly, it fit perfectly.

“Funny, I almost never find something that fits me. This is amazing,” she said, almost breathlessly. She handed over her card and signed the receipt.

“I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Ms. Allen. Thank you for dropping in today.”

“And you, Mr. Night. You are welcome,” and she walked out.

“Lisa, take it easy with that one. You may find she has more fight in her than she portrays,” he said, almost as if to himself.

Back at the advertisement office where she worked, Stacy was just walking the front door when a strange, audible growl could be heard. At first, she was startled. How could I still be hungry? I just came from lunch. Strange. Heehee, I cannot believe I got that ring for only $5000! Best. Deal. Ever! Deciding that what she really needed was a nap, she figured since it was Friday and there was not anything to do until it was time to go, she figured a quick nap would be okay. Telling her secretary, Rebecca Truman, to hold all her calls for the next hour and a half, she closed and locked the door, sat down in her chair, and nodded off. The last things she remembered was a warm feeling spreading throughout her body and an unknown voice from somewhere saying, “Oh, the fun we shall have!”

Waking up to the sound of her alarm going off made her jolt out of bed. She slammed her fist down on it, she rubbed her temples. Slowly, she realized she was in bed and not her office, where she last remembered falling asleep. “What the hell is going on here? Hello, is anybody here? This had better not be a joke. Tim, I swear if you are behind this insane breach of privacy, you are FIRED!!! DO YOU HEAR ME, I MEAN-”

“Yes, I hear you, I hear you. Quit screaming, I have a hangover. You really know how to party, Stacy,” said an unknown, female voice from her bedroom door.

Quickly rolling off the side of the bed, Stacy started looking for her little .22 handgun she kept for security that she kept hidden under the mattress. “Who the fuck is there!?!”

“Oh, honey, please. That won't hurt me. I'm not really here,” the voice said.

“ANSWER ME!!!”

“Alright, alright. Calm down. Just breathe. My name is Lisa. I'm the original owner of that ring you bought. Come, if you'd just calm down, you and me can eat and talk about this little...arrangement,” the voice, now calling itself Lisa, said.

“What the fuck.... How the fucking hell... What on Earth are you talking about?!?” Stacy screamed at the door, her gun still leveled at the door.

“Stacy, honey, please stop screaming. Hangover, remember? Just come to the kitchen, bring the gun if it makes you feel safer. I promise to not hurt you, since I can't anyway,” Lisa said as the sound of something very heavy shuffled its way towards the kitchen.

What the goddamn hell is going on here? Who the hell is this person and what does she want? She said I could bring the gun, so I might as well. As she stood, she noticed something about what she was wearing. It was a giant red dress, low cut in the front. Of course, it was hard to tell, since all it did was hang off of her like a huge tent. If it was not so big, she might actually like it.

“Oh, do you like the dress? I thought you might,” said Lisa's voice as it carried down the hall. “It shows off the breasts wonderfully, don't you think?”

“I do not know what your perverted problem is, but this 'dress' is fucking huge!” Stacy yelled back. All she heard back was a soft chuckle and some indistinguishable mutterings. Stacy quickly slipped out of it and grabbed a dark blue nightgown and matching robe. With gun in hand, she slowly approached the door.

“Oh, do hurry up. Your breakfast is getting cold.”

Sighing, Stacy calmly and carefully approached the kitchen, gun leveled. She had watched enough movies to at least know which end of the gun was the business end. Turning the corner into the kitchen, what she saw sitting at her kitchen table shocked her into speechlessness. Lisa was a huge woman, of easily the upper three hundreds, possibly even four hundreds. She had long black hair pulled back behind her ears and green eyes, with large chipmunk cheeks and jowls the size of Stacy's hands. She was dressed in a light pink halter and black sweats, both of which fit her like a glove. Lisa was sitting in profile to Stacy's position, so Stacy could see how her huge gut just sat on top thighs that had be bigger than Stacy was round. Stacy stared for several seconds at the fat woman before Lisa looked up from her “breakfast,” which enveloped Stacy's tiny kitchen table. It was covered in Danishes, doughnuts, fruit-filled turnovers, cinnamon buns, and pretty much every fattening breakfast item one could imagine.

“About time you got up. Pull up a chair and enjoy. Despite the size, all of this isn't for me, and we have much to speak about,” she stated calmly. Stacy did not move, but the smell of the Danishes was really starting to get to her.

“Stacy, please, sit and have one. It won't kill you.”

“Fine. But, just one,” Stacy relented, pulling out the only other chair at the table and taking a seat. Lisa watched intently until Stacy had finished her Danish.

“Feels good, doesn't it? Been awhile since you had sweets, hasn't it?”

“Stop with the games, bitch. You have three seconds to explain who the fuck you are and why you are here. Otherwise, the police get to deal with your fat, cold dead body. Do you understand who is in charge now?” Stacy said as she leveled the gun at Lisa's head.

Lisa chuckled. “Oh, you poor dear. There is so little you understand, or control for that matter. As I stated before, my name is Lisa and I'm not real. Technically, none of this is real. I call this a meeting of the souls. Sorta like a dream, I guess is the best way to put this. I inhabit that ring you bought yesterday and the only way I get to come out is if somebody puts it on. Then, for seven days, I get to live in their body. I forget some of the details after that, but I know I go back in the ring. Enjoying the Danishes, are we? That's the third one you've had since I started talking.”

At first, Stacy was confused, then realized that she was mid-bite in another Danish, which she quickly threw back on to the table. “Not really, no. Anyway, you're crazy. That's single handily is the stupidest thing I've heard in a long time. So, you are going to remain right there while I pick up the phone and call the cops to haul your fat ass to the...” Stacy's voice trailed off as she realized that there was no dial tone. “You cut the phone line, you big bitch. Fine, you want to play it like that,” she said as she took one last look at Lisa, still sitting at the table, then turned around and ran for the door. However, as she opened it, she was staring into nothingness. There was a black void where the hallway to the rest of the apartment complex should have been.

“I told you, this isn't real. You are a stubborn woman. Night was right to send me with you.”

“Night? You mean, the old guy in charge of the antique store? You mean he knew this would happen?!?!”

“Yes, dear. Night and I have been together for hundreds of years. I'm his wife. Way back when, I was the only mortal woman he had ever had feelings for. I do mean ever. He's been around for a long, long time, but I guess that even a god can find love. So, when he trusted me with that information, he put that ring on my finger and said, “And now, even after you wither away and die, you'll still be with me.” Such a romantic, isn't he?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. So, how do I get rid of you? What do I need to do?” Stacy asked in a dejected tone.

“Why, it's quite easy. All you have to do is let me stay with you in your body for seven days, let me live, so to speak, and then I leave.”

“Lady, I'm not stupid. What's the catch?”

Lisa smirked. “You're right, you are a sharp tack. The price is your body has to adjust to my soul or, more importantly, the size of my soul. I weigh 400 pounds, even. I like even numbers, so sue me. Anyway, what happens is that every day you will gain weight until you reach my weight. Let's see, you weigh 120 pounds, correct? Subtract that from 400 and you get 280. Divide that by 7 days and you will gain 40 pounds a day.”

“I'LL DO WHAT!?!?! HELL NO, FUCK NO!!! I REFUSE!!! I ADMITTEDLY REFUSE TO DO THIS!!! FUCK YOU, LISA!!! FUCK YOU!!!” Lisa screamed, her gun shaking violently, but still pointed in Lisa's direction.

“Oh, honey, I'm not done. Each day will be different. Reality has to explain why you are the way you are, so there will be some rewrites. It's a way to explain the weight gain. Think of it like this: you aren't gaining weight. Instead, you are going to different realities were you weigh that much and having to live that life for a day or two.”

Stacy's face went from absolute fury to stone cold calm in a matter of moments and her hand dropped. “No, I will not,” she said quietly to herself. Then her hand snapped back up and Stacy emptied the clip into Lisa's body, screaming furiously as she did.
 

IrishBard

womble/leprechaun hybrid!
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brilliant stuff. I love Mr night's character, he just seems so calm and collected.
 

idtentional

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Thank you for a story with some heft to it and some very good writing
 

Perry White

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Intriguing so far, always great for the beginning of a story! I await more. :)
 

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