The crumbling chunks of ceiling plaster fall down on Angelina's growing body. The dust clings in your hair and hers, building up on her pale, exposed skin. With every breath she takes, Angelina appears to swell larger and fill more of the room. The metal bed frame collapses to snapped pieces beneath her. Old, rusty mattress springs break loose, ricocheting off the peeling walls.
"Get out of here!" Angelina commands, "Get out! It's not stopping Scott! I need more room!" She's right, this warped chamber is quickly running out of space, and you're on the wrong side of it. You abandon the matter transposer in the chaos and dive under the triangle of Angelina's bent knees. You squeeze between her expanding calves and thighs while her knees push against the ceiling more.
"I'm out!" You shout from the doorway, cuing Angelina to roll over. Her bare feet turn old furniture to rotted scrap and threaten to kick right through the wall towards you. She tucks herself tightly, screaming and crying as the room becomes tighter and tighter.
The old house groans and creaks in ways not even such a weathered, dead place should sound. You can't stay here. Angelina screams, "When is it going to stop!?" Through the spider-webbed halls and out the front door, you escape before any worse comes to you and wait in the overgrown yard for the end to come.
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