The Titan Maker

[GLKnight]

"Are you sure you're okay with this? Talking about what you've been put through?"

For the past three years, Polemia Harrison had been looking for any sort of lead she could find. Initially a passing curiosity, it soon built itself into a full blown obsession with one goal.

"Y-Yes," the heavily bundled up blonde woman Polly had convinced to open up about her trauma said, shaky but resolute. "The world needs to... To know what he did to me. To... To us."

Polemia hit record as the woman stood up and began taking off layer after layer of clothing. Slowly revealing a body that went beyond toned, every inch of her body beyond sculpted. Until, clad only in a small bra that was slightly too big for her chest and a pair of compression shorts around her narrow hips, Polemia knew that Aubrey Trenton was telling the truth. A quick glance at the poor girl's before images, of the portly shape she was in shortly before being found as she looked now, caused Polly's heart to skip a beat. Running her hand trough her long dark hair, the investigator could only flit her eyes from picture to person, excitement building in her chest.

From her scarily thin yet strong looking visage, Aubrey hadn't lied that she had been unable to put on any weight since her run in with Dr. Ricardo Adamantine several years ago.

Her goal had finally appeared before her eyes.

The Titan Maker, the notorious legend of a man who claimed to be able to rebuild his victims as they desired at the risk of their very life, who had been rumored to have a body count of over 70 victims, was real. The chance to reveal a serial killer that everyone had written off as a fantasy being fact had presented itself to her.

[GLKnight]

Polly had to practically tear her eyes away from Aubrey's form. The incredible definition of her lithe body. The sheer level of striation, highlighting how low her body fat percentage had to be.

"Now that the camera's rolling," she stated, fighting against her eager nerves and keep herself in check. "Please state your name and age for the record."

The woman on display closed her eyes and took a swift, shallow breath as she pulled a bit on her long, wavy blonde hair. All to ready herself for the memories she was about to relive for the interview.

"Ah-Aubrey Trenton. I'm... I'm 29 years old."

With a subtle smile, Polly crossed her legs and got comfortable in her seat.

"Now, Mrs. Trent-"

"Miss," Aubrey interjected as she began to fidget. "I w-was supposed to be married, which is why I ended up... I... May I get dressed and sit down?"

Dejectedly, Polly nodded her head and gestured a penned hand at the clothes the woman had worn when she first arrived at Polly's apartment. Aubrey quickly knelt down and hurriedly dressed. First her t-shirt, followed by her long skirt. Then sweater over that, followed by gloves and a wool coat. The lengths Aubrey went to hide herself began to worry Polly.

"You must be getting hot under all those clothes," Polly asked, letting herself get at least a little concerned for the poor woman. "Are you sure you don't want to-?"

Her interview subject's response was quick and loud, holding on to her clothes tightly as she curled up in her seat.

"NO! I- I mean, no. I'm actually... It's something he did to me. Something he did to all of us."

"Did to all of you?" Polemia asked, a sudden intrigue wrapping itself along her spine as her brain tingled at the potential thought. Flipping her hair over her shoulder before leaning in, eyes keying into the solemn look on Aubrey's face as she sat down and looked at the carpet beneath her feet..

"He... gives you exactly what you want." she said, tilting her head and averting her eyes awkwardly. "I told him I... I just wanted to lose a little weight and feel comfortable in whatever I wore to my wedding. But he... took it so literal. Now, I'm like a muscular stick, and I n-never get hot or cold. I can wear w-whatever and be perfectly fine, no matter what time of year."

Polly began writing what Aubrey said, her pen scribbling frantically across the pad of paper.

"So I take it you wanted to become slimmer, which is something all brides want. How much did you weigh before... this?"

"232 pounds. You saw the pictures I gave you."

"I did. But this was all so... drastic. And you were able to keep the weight off after, what? Four, maybe five years?"

Seeing a look of anger suddenly overcome her interview subject caused Polly's breath to catch in her throat. She could practically feel a fire kindling within the petite woman.

"Not by choice, no."

"Could you elaborate on-"

Aubrey practically leapt out of her chair, throwing it back and sending it skittering across the floor while she stood in front of both Polemia and the camera with a threatening pose.

"There's nothing TO explain! Do you know how much I have to eat to not feel like my stomach is trying to consume itself?! THREE TIMES WHAT I ATE AT MY LARGEST! I eat and I EAT, and not an ounce of fat is gained! Not an ounce of muscle is LOST! I weigh one hundred and eleven pounds! Daniel left me because I'm no longer who I was or wanted to be! I hate this body! I hate it!"

As the poor girl crumpled to the floor in tears, Polly couldn't help but feel some sympathy for her. She wanted to stop recording, but she felt that something like this needed to be in the archives. If not for herself, then for Aubrey. So she kept it rolling, moving quickly behind Adamantine's victim to reposition the chair. Then, with a gentle grace, held out her hand for Aubrey. Letting the girl breathe and let the tears flow in her own time. Staying still for almost a minute before she lifted her head, wiping her bright brown eyes with the sleeve of her sweater and accepting the investigator's help back onto her feet before brushing off her skirt.

"I'm... sorry. I should have consulted my therapist before coming here."

"It's alright," Polly told her, reaching down to a nearby table and handing Aubrey her cup of hot tea. "You have no need to apologize. Remember to take your time. We're in no rush."

Aubrey was silent for a moment, deep in thought before she took a deep breath and nodded approvingly.

"I'm alright. Let's continue, please?"

With a professional's poise, Polly went back to her seat. Grabbing her pen and notepad, she continued with her interview.

"If you are willing, I'd like to talk about how you met up with The Titan Maker, Dr. Adamantine."

[GLKnight]

Aubrey's eyes drifted for a second, floating in memories that she didn't want to relive but knew she had to.

"It was four months before our wedding day," she croaked, quickly catching herself and clearing her throat. "I had gone dress shopping with my mom and friends. And we found it - the perfect dress. It was flowy and sparkly. Even in my budget, too! It was like a sign from God that it was meant to be! But then I tried it on... and it didn't fit at all. But it was the one, you know?"

"So you decided then and there you had to fit in it?" Polly asked, writing furiously without looking at Aubrey, who was getting a bit misty eyed.

"...Yeah. I was about four sizes too big for it. So I started looking into personal trainers to help me with my goal. But there was a slight issue."

Those words pulled Polemia out of her head, forcing her to look at Aubrey with curiosity.

"And what was that?"

Aubrey shifted awkwardly in her seat, curling up a bit more.

"Before Dr. Adamantine, I... had incredible difficulty losing weight. No matter how much I tried, outside of starving myself, my body just wouldn't let go of the excess weight."

"That must have been difficult," Polly asked, genuinely concerned. "Especially on your mental health?"

"No one really loves a fat girl," Aubrey replied, pain dripping in her voice. "At least, they'll say so publicly. But in private, it's a giant albatross around your neck, as my dad would say. Which is why I loved Daniel so much. He was funny. And adorable. And so kind. He loved me for me... Or, at least, he seemed to. Which is why I wanted to fit in that dress."

"You said "seemed to". I take it that didn't last."

Aubrey slowly shook her head, wiping away tears.

"It all seemed innocuous," she sighed. "I got estimates, timescales, promises and reality checks. Nothing worked or appealed to me. That's when I found his flier."

Polly's head popped up, excitement in every pore of her body like lightning through a weathervane.

"You have a flier?" she asked, struggling to maintain decorum. "May I see it?"

Aubrey sat there, processing what she was asked. Then, with a slow nod, she got out of her chair and moved towards her backpack by the door. Rifling through it, she pulled out a piece of paper, folded and put inside a little sealed bag. Then, with a slow shuffle, the lithe blonde made her way back over to Polemia and offered it with both hands to her interviewer.

"Not sure how much good it will do," she said, letting Polly take it into her possession. "He's long gone by now."

"I understand," Polly muttered, clearly lost in her own world as she opened the baggie. "But this is more evidence than anyone has ever found on him, to date. Why haven't you shared this with anyone else?"

"I didn't want to," Aubrey huffed, sitting back down in her chair across from the camera. "All the podcasters and Youtubers just seemed to want the sensational bits. It was obvious what they were after. You're like them, but..."

Polly noticed the pause, her stomach dropping as she looked Aubrey in the eye.

"But?"

Aubrey shifted in her seat, pulling her feet up beneath her and crossing her arms once more.

"You actually want the truth. They just wanted a story."

Aubrey's words cut Polemia to her core. She did want the story. She also wanted the truth. Most of all, what she wanted was more than what Aubrey could give her. Slowly unfolding the flier, Polly couldn't help but be taken aback by how basic the layout was. Just the Doctor's name, Titan Gym splayed across the top, a slew of promises to get his potential clients what they were hoping to get and a phone number. That last part caught her attention, as it wasn't an Ohio number at all. She wrote it down, surmising that if she wanted to hunt down The Titan Maker, she'd have to cancel her lease leave the state as soon as possible. Which, in all honesty was fine by her. She was from Washington, anyway. Moving wasn't that big of a deal for her.

"I'm honestly touched you trust me with this," Polly said, quickly pulling out her phone and taking a picture of the flier. "I understand trusting people would be hard after all you've been through. Especially after dealing with someone like Adamantine."

Polly folded the flier and slipped it back into the baggie, holding it out for Aubrey to take back.

"Thank you," the blonde said, gingerly grasping the bag with her fingertips as if it held something incredibly dangerous. "He ruined my life, and the lives of others. All for his sick experiments."

"Experiments?"

Aubrey nodded her head at Polemia's puzzlement.

"It's what he was really doing. To all of us."

A squelching gurgle undercut the moment. Loud enough to practically echo throughout the room.

"Did you eat?" Polly asked, surprising a chuckle.

"A large breakfast," Aubrey replied, unable to hold back the bizarre amusement at the timing of her stomach. "Would it be alright if I ordered some food? I might be small now, but I have to eat way more than I used to. If I don't, I start hurting really badly."

"I guess we can take a break," Polly grunted. "But afterward, we should go over your experiences with Doctor Adamantine. I'm actually a bit hungry myself, so I'll cover the meal."

"You don't have to-?"

"You're my guest," Polly told her, moving her hand towards the camera. "It's only fair since you're being open about what he put you through..."

And with that, Polemia turned off the camera.

[jcboyd]

When GL writes - we READ 

[GLKnight]

Caught a pretty severe cold. Trying to work through it, but the next installment's going to take a minute.

Also working on two mainstream short stories for Halloween and a Novella while I can.

Busy busy busy busy...

[GLKnight]

As Polly turned the camera back on, she surveyed the remains of Aubrey's voracious appetite all around them. A two hundred dollar order, of which her subject had so far consumed seven double patty cheeseburgers with all the fixings they had, three large orders of fries, four large milkshakes and two large orders of onion rings. With another two burgers, one large fries and a large milkshake to go. Polly herself had a rather small appetite, only ordering a bacon cheeseburger and small fries, so witnessing the feat was shocking, in and of itself.

"You were not kidding about needing to eat so much, were you?" she asked, running her hand through her own hair to sweep long locks out of her face as Aubrey reached for another burger.

"It was part of what he did to me," Aubrey groaned, her hands working quickly to unwrap the tinfoil before greedily biting into the soggy mound. "He told me that in order to help me stay thin, he had to make me burn as many calories as possible. It really hurts when I don't eat."

Polly wrote that tidbit down in her notes.

"The Titan Maker," she sighed. "Speaking of him, we should go over what he did to you now that you've gotten something to eat?"

The lithe blonde noticeably slowed in contemplation, gently chewing on her food for a few seconds before swallowing.

"When I got in contact with him," she quietly began, holding her half eaten burger in front of her mouth like a mask. "He seemed... nice? Like, very professional but warm. He didn't just make promises. He made "pacts", as he put it. He said that I would get exactly what I wanted. At the time, I didn't understand what he meant. None of us did, really."

"None of us," Polly tittered, quickly jotting down Aubrey's words. "You keep mentioning other people. What do you mean by that?"

"I and the others who got away," the petite blonde said. "All of us didn't understand the predicament we were in when we agreed."

Polly's eyes narrowed at the idea. More survivors? More interviews. More LEADS.

"And how many in total would you say got away from him?"

"Including myself," Aubrey pondered, suddenly looking relieved, if just slightly. "Four."

Polly's eyes lit up at the revelation. She quickly wrote a big 4 on her pad, circling and underlining it for emphasis.

"And all of you somehow got away at the same time?"

Aubrey quickly shook her head before taking another big bite of her burger.

"So four separate instances of people escaping from the clutches of The Titan Maker. Given his M.O. was targeting women explicitly, I can surmise the other survivors are all women?"

At this, Aubrey nodded emphatically as she drank one of her milkshakes. The straw squeaking as she bobbed her head.

"Incredible," Polly tittered, quickly making more notes about potential questions. "This really does help me with my central thesis on his habits."

Aubrey was suddenly confused by what her interviewer was saying.

"I'm sorry, but I thought I was here to convey what he was like?"

"OH," Polly said, raising her penned hand as if to hold Aubrey at bay. "You are! It just opens more questions, more clues, more details. Seventy four victims, four survivors. That sort of thing just doesn't happen."

"I don't think you understand," Aubrey said, flustered by Polemia's statements. "His thing wasn't actively MURDERING us. He made sure those who kept his interest stayed in his experiments. Those who couldn't handle it worked out and were tinkered with until we died."

Polemia's jaw dropped at Aubrey's claims.

"So you were, what... guinea pigs?"

A look of disgust crossed Aubrey's face before she quickly grabbed the hem of her sweater and quickly pulled it off. Leaving herself clad in the light blue tee shirt that hung off her body like a it was attached to a wire frame. She held out her arms, slowly flexing them as she increased the tension. Veins quickly snaking across her forearms as they slowly bulged, sinews seeming to expand as her hands went bone white from squeezing them so tightly. Her biceps burst slightly, swelling to twice the size they once were. Her triceps exploded, her half sleeves hurriedly looking more and more full. Polly's eyes slid further up, noticing a twitch around the blonde's neck before she realized that she was beginning to see signs of growth there, as well. Narrow features throbbing, as if summoned into being. Aubrey's face bright red as mass shifted, the collar of her shirt lifting bit by bit as her neck seemed to grow thicker, wider. Her already extremely low body fat unable to hide every single fiber seeming to get thicker and thicker.

Then, with a tired cry of pain, Aubrey let go of her struggle and slumped in her chair. Sweat pouring down her face, her shirt already clinging to her body. Every inch of her arms, neck and shoulders twitching and spasming wildly, as if she had just finished an intense workout. Her muscles still pumped from the effort, hard and full.

Polemia's mind boggled at what she had just witnessed. For in the span of what had to be less than a minute, she had just witnessed Aubrey put on what she had to guess was approximately ten to fifteen pounds of raw muscle. All through sheer willpower.

"D-Does this... answer that... question?" Aubrey exclaimed, eyes filled with pain and panting from exhaustion.

[GLKnight]

Hours after the first day of interviews with Aubrey, as she was reviewing her notes and thinking of where to push the conversation, Polemia had grown tired.

She knew that the subject was incredibly weighted, given that it was about a serial killer whom she had learned earlier that day somehow found a way to physically alter any of his subjects that survived his torturous methods. Her eyes glanced up to the screen, a frozen image of Aubrey after she had put on an astonishing twelve pounds of muscle in one explosive display of growth that left her exhausted and aching severely. Polemia had to rush out and buy a scale for the girl to stand on to document it. But there it was, the picture clear as day on her phone next to her notepad.

"What the hell did he do to them?" she whispered, reaching over to grab her bowl of now cold zoodles in a lemongrass reduction that had grown chalky from sitting on the table she was using as a desk for far too long. She could hear her mother's voice in her head. Chastising her for not eating her food. Complaining that eating the burger and fries for lunch would be a decision she'd have to work off for the next three days with diet and exercise. But then again, she had been surreptitiously named after her own mother. Pollyanna wanted her daughter to be like her in every possible way. It was only through her father's intervention that she was named Polemia, though that did nothing to stop her mother from giving the poor privileged girl a similar nickname.

As she rewound the tape, pausing it at the beginning when Aubrey was stripped down to her underwear, her mother's singsong voice chanted the words that she hated with a burning passion. Words that she was forced to recant time and time again. In punishment, in jest, in joy. Like an eternal message, reminding her of who she was. Subconsciously reiterating them yet again alongside the phantom inside her own mind.

"Polly, Polly
Pretty Dolly
Catches the eyes
Of all the boys,
By golly!"

Sickened by how easily the words came back to her, Polemia pushed her food away and stood from her seat. She was through ruminating on things beyond her control. She didn't want to hear her mother's maddening whines or capitulations about what was and wasn't feminine or ladylike. Quickly discarding her shirt, the toned physique of her upper body was accentuated by the shadows of the dimly lit room cast from the low wattage bulb of the nearby lamp. More mood lighting than anything, really. But right now, she was in no mood for anything but to workout. She hit play on the video once more, letting it run as she threw herself to the floor and began doing crunches while the interview replayed for the sixth that that night.

She needed to push away everything. All her worries, her anxieties. The expectations of being the daughter of a drunken, ditzy dilettante from an old money family and a lifelong military man with aspirations of political power. The doubts about what she was doing. The fears that she was on a wild goose chase. What she craved was the security strength would give her, the means by which to stand above everything she was meant to by and recognized for her own achievements.

As she listened to her body respond to her actions, the sound of Aubrey's voice as she talked about Dr. Adamantine, she knew this was the only thing she could do.

She was not going to be weak, like she had been told her entire life.

She had to find The Titan Maker.

She HAD to.

[Biceps108]

An interesting development!

[GLKnight]

The week after Aubrey's first round of interviews, the elevator doors opened on the eighth floor of the upscale apartment building that still felt like she didn't belong. Her mind drifting back to when she was first contacted by Polly, she was still shocked by just how much money her interviewer was willing to throw around. Paying her for each day, forwarding money to help her make ends meet. It was like money really was no option for the dark haired woman who only wanted her to tell her story about Doctor Adamantine, the man who ruined her life. As she walked briskly down the empty hallway, the poor girl's anxiety began to set in. Bundled up in layer after layer of clothing once again, she gripped the patch of sweater above her stomach as tightly as she could. Her eyes turned downward, knowing no one lived in the other apartments. But she didn't want to risk the chance of being seen. Her feet wanted to move fast, but she knew she couldn't go in there on the verge of panic. She needed to stop, take some deep breaths.

But when she did, Aubrey noticed something. A delectable scent. Savory aromas. Robust flavors. All floating in the air. Her feet seemed to move on their own as she was drawn towards Miss Harrison's apartment. Led along by her nose, the smells coming from within her interviewer's apartment made her feel like she was heading more towards a bougie hidden restaurant than someone's home. As soon as she got to the front door, she raised her hand to knock. But a thought caused her to pause. It dawned on her just how... NICE Polemia was. Completely opposite to what she thought. It was like Polemia was trying really, really hard to put the girl at ease. Now that she was thinking about it, some would say she was being too nice.

Her stomach fluttered, gurgling slightly as she continued to be assailed by the food she was certain lay beyond the door. Nice or not, she had agreed to the series of interviews. And it would be rude to leave Polemia hanging in the lurch. And there was food that might get cold if it wasn't eaten, as well.

Shaking herself free from the thought, Aubrey brought her clenched fist to the door. Knuckles rapping on the thick dark oak three times loudly, tingling as much as her stomach was by the thought of what she was about to eat.

"Come in, Aubrey!"

Walking in, the lithe blonde's eyes bulged at the absolute incredible spread of food available. A veritable buffet had been prepared, each dish in warming trays across three tables. Twenty six options in all. Mexican dishes, Indian dishes, Italian dishes. Pastas and rice and more, each laid out in easy to access ways due to the large living room of the apartment being reorganized for her to move around in. Two more cameras set up to keep a steady track of the room, along with rigs and more microphones for better audio.

Wall to wall, it felt like the room was set up to keep track of every inch of movement and discussion with as much clarity as possible.

"This is different...?" she said, slipping her bag off of her shoulder and placing it by the door. Polemia, however looked completely unfazed.

"I took your dietary needs into consideration," she told her, standing from the same seat she sat in during the last interview. "I hope you don't mind."

"I guess," Aubrey said, holding her shirt tightly in her right hand. Her stomach was beginning to ache, begging for her to start eating all that had been prepared for her. "You didn't have to do all this, though."

With a warm smile, Polemia just put her arm around the blonde's shoulders and gently guided her towards the line.

"It's really not a problem, Aubrey! I just want you to be comfortable. So please-"

Polly reached down, picked up a plate and held it up to Aubrey. A car salesman's smile on her face as the smaller lady let go of her shirt to take it.

"Don't worry about a thing. I'm here for you."

[Jaguar]

Incredible story so far !

[phil123]

She is on her way o become big. Would like to ead more

[GLKnight]

As she slowly pushed herself up for the one hundred and twenty-seventh time, Polly paused and gazed at the video of Aubrey's interview from earlier in the day. She couldn't help but look at the blonde girl's face, the worry lines and averting glances whenever she was forced to remember everything he had done to her. And she saw only one person in every twitch and defensive posture.

"A true lady is always refined and elegant, Polly!"

Her mother, "Lady Amelia" Harrison, was a terrible shrew of a woman. Someone who was always willing to do whatever it takes to get exactly what she wanted. Conniving. Scheming. Petulant when needed and a harpy when she wanted, which was always. Everything and everyone was hers by right to use and abuse. No one was safe from her plans and desires, including her own daughter.

"A woman must never have physical power, Polly! Our greatest strengths are our looks and our minds! The only thing you should strive for is to be the woman behind the throne! That is where real power lies!"

She hated the bitch with every ounce of her being. The way she dressed. The way she talked. The plastic surgeries she underwent to remain "pretty and perfectly wanted".  Every iota of her essence, a perfect pairing with her passive, power and money hungry father. She was their perfect child - deeply ingrained with their faults and formed into a beautiful doll fit for their goals and aspirations.

Polemia couldn't help but sneer as her stomach knotted from the memories of what they did to her. How much they tried to hold her back from her true self. Forcing her into a pretty little box that they could open and close whenever they wanted. A tiny clone of the two of them, to be played with and given away as a present to whatever man they deemed worthy of succeeding her father.

If she wanted a man? She would take him.

If she wanted money? She would earn it from fools too stupid to hold onto it.

If she wanted power? Well, that was the only thing she felt was her right. But she knew power was not given to women easily. Every woman was to be put through their paces, whether born female or not. To be tortured and questioned and scrutinized. To have what was deservedly theirs dangled in front of them like a carrot. A sick game of "equality not equity" by cruel taskmasters seeking to use and cast aside any pretty little thing that caught their eye.

This was what home was like for her. This was her friendship circles. This was her school life. This was her struggles in Grad School. Her struggles to earn her doctorate through a thesis of power dynamics and sexual proclivities.

All of these things and more sprung to mind as she listened to Aubrey drone on and on about her self-inflicted "suffering" while she talked about what he did to her. But even as she listened, she could not give up the routine. Perfection came with sacrifices. Perfection must be strived for. Perfection must come with pain. For with pain, comes knowledge.

"...As I collapsed onto the floor, he told me that I was "just another success who didn't understand my limits."

The second she heard her say that in the audio, something clicked for Polly. Scrambling to her feet, she rushed to the desk and paused the video. Slowly rewinding it as she paid close attention to her interviewee's face.

"...Just another success who didn't understand my limits."

"What did he mean by that?" Polly wondered as she paused the video once more. Something wasn't quite adding up. Bringing up the map of the Titan Maker's victims over the years from her laptop's files, she traced the red line. Mentally traveling across the country, recalling his list of "failures". Then an idea birthed itself in her mind.

"If Aubrey is here," pointing at an empty spot in Ohio close to where she said she was abducted. "Then that means..."

As she brought her finger back to the line, genius dawned on her like the sun.

She had gotten the pattern wrong. When you brought what her first interviews revealed into the equation, then the line was only going from failure to failure. He wasn't just picking his subjects at random, but from greatest point of convenience. Meaning that each greater distance line wasn't taking into account one of his "successes" at all.

Polly couldn't help but cackle at the truth of the matter - there were natural points in his decades long rampage where he let people go. Always giving them exactly what they want, whether due to embarrassment or due to satisfaction. All she needed to do was goad more information from the Cincinnati case and figure out where the next success lay waiting to be discovered.

With renewed zeal, Polly threw herself back onto the floor. Cranking out push-up after push-up like a machine, focused entirely on her goal. She knew the next success story was out there for her to find. The information they had, the details about him only they knew. She had to find the Titan Maker at all costs. If not for the secrets he took to the grave, then for the prestige of unveiling the truth of what he was capable of.

His knowledge of the human body and how to push it beyond its limits, or the power that comes with privilege and celebrity.

She was gladly willing to take either form of power for herself.

[Wookey]

Yasssss. K++++

[erocha75]

This story is beyond awesome. Mooore, pls!!