----Transformation Tracker ----
Amelia Harper -
Stacey Whitmore - Has to accept and complete any dare (mental),
Ryan Carter - Enlarged Manhood (12inch).
Clarissa Bennett -
(Stacey's POV)
Clarissa snapped her head toward Ryan, eyes blazing with frustration. “No kidding, Sherlock!” she shot back, striding over to the board with a purpose. Her fingers curled around the lid, and with a sharp motion, she slammed it shut.
The impact should’ve made the whole thing bounce, should’ve sent it skidding across the bed, but it didn’t. The board remained exactly where it was, motionless, as if it had fused with the blanket beneath it. The crystal ball in the center pulsed ominously, the soft glow shifting in color from its usual soft white to a deep, eerie blue.
Amelia flinched, clutching a pillow to her chest. “Did that—did it just react?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Ryan stepped forward, standing beside Clarissa with his arms tense at his sides. “Let’s just—check outside, okay?” His voice was even, but I could hear the strain beneath it, that desperate hope that maybe—just maybe—this was all some elaborate prank.
Clarissa hesitated, her lips pressed into a tight line. She glanced at me, eyes searching mine for some kind of reassurance. I gave a weak nod, hugging my knees tighter against my chest, even though I didn’t feel the slightest bit reassured myself.
Taking a deep breath, she crept toward the door and grabbed the handle. A moment’s hesitation. Then she yanked it open.
Nothing.
That same endless, pulsing darkness stretched out beyond the doorway, swallowing the entire frame. It wasn’t just dark—it was alive. It seemed to shift and breathe, a void that stretched forever, waiting to swallow us whole. The air felt colder just standing near it, and I swore I could hear something... a faint whisper, just beyond reach.
My stomach twisted into knots.
“Close it! Close it!” Amelia shrieked, scrambling backward behind me, clutching the pillow tighter like it might shield her from whatever was out there.
Clarissa didn’t need to be told twice. She shoved the door shut, the sound of it slamming echoing loudly through the room. She leaned against it, breathing heavily, her hand still clutched around the doorknob like she expected it to burst open at any second.
“We’re stuck,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
(Ryan's POV)
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. The tension in the room was thick, every breath feeling too loud, too shaky. “Hold on,” I muttered, pushing off the bed and moving toward the window.
Clarissa stared at me. “Ryan, don’t.”
I ignored her, pulling back the heavy hotel curtains with a sharp tug. The glass reflected our pale, anxious faces for a moment before my eyes adjusted to what lay beyond.
More darkness.
Not the usual nighttime cityscape we should’ve been seeing. No distant headlights from the highway, no flickering neon signs from the gas station across the lot. Just... nothing. A complete and utter void, stretching out beyond the window, thick and oppressive like the kind that shouldn't exist in reality.
I leaned closer, pressing my hand to the cool glass, hoping—praying—that maybe my eyes were just playing tricks on me. But the more I stared, the more certain I became that this was something real. Something wrong.
“Guys…” I murmured, stepping back slowly. “It’s... it’s not just the door.”
Amelia shook her head violently. “No. No way.” She stumbled toward the window and peered out. Her breathing hitched. “It’s everywhere,” she whispered.
Stacey sat frozen on the bed, pulling her knees tighter to her chest. “What does that mean? We’re just... in some kind of nowhere?”
Clarissa pushed away from the door and marched toward the board. “Alright, I’ve had enough.” She grabbed the edge of the board with both hands and yanked.
Nothing. It didn’t budge.
Her jaw clenched as she tried again, pulling harder, but the board stayed in place like it was glued to the bed. “Ryan, help me with this.”
I moved beside her, gripping the opposite end. We both pulled with everything we had, muscles straining, but it was like trying to move solid stone. It didn’t shift even an inch.
Clarissa let out a frustrated groan, slamming her fists down on it. “What the hell?”
Amelia took a hesitant step forward, her voice barely audible. “It’s... keeping us here. Isn’t it?”
The crystal ball pulsed again, and I felt my stomach drop.
(Stacey's POV)
Before any of us could say another word, the crystal ball flared brighter, illuminating the entire room with a deep, ghostly glow. A low, whispering voice drifted through the air, curling around us like smoke.
"The path must be walked, the dice must be rolled,
To finish the game, your fate will unfold.
Stay where you are, resist if you dare,
But lingering long... will lead to despair."
The words hung thick in the air, pressing down on my chest like a weight.
Clarissa stepped back, fists clenched. “We have to keep playing,” she muttered, her voice hollow.
Amelia’s lower lip trembled. “We can’t miss the tournament, guys... what if this takes hours? Days?”
Clarissa shook her head, panic flashing in her eyes. “I have a scholarship on the line, Amelia! I can't be stuck here!”
The board flickered, and a new message scrawled across its surface in glowing letters:
“The next player must proceed, or face the cost.”
All eyes landed on Clarissa, her figurine sitting next in line.
Stacey bit her lip. “Guess the game doesn’t care about volleyball, huh?”
Amelia turned to Ryan, desperation creeping into her voice. “Maybe he should roll again. He’s already... changed, right?”
Clarissa shot her a glare. “Yeah, we all noticed.”
Stacey smirked, an edge of nervous laughter in her voice. “Pretty sure we all noticed. I mean, with the way your jeans were fitting, Ry, the game gave you something to be proud of.”
Ryan shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Focus, guys.”
(Clarissa's POV)
I swallowed hard, staring at the board as if it might suddenly explode in my face. My hands were clammy, and my legs felt shaky under me. “I... I just need a second, okay?”
The crystal ball pulsed again, as if in response.
Before I could move, a sudden, sharp sensation jolted through my nipples—like someone had reached out and pinched me and pulled, hard. A gasp tore from my throat as my whole body stiffened in response. My arms clamped tightly to my sides, but it didn’t stop the sensation—if anything, it intensified. The sharp, stinging pressure held me in place, like invisible fingers gripping my skin with painful precision.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, my knees buckling slightly. “What the—?!”
Amelia jumped to her feet. “Clarissa?! What’s wrong?”
I could barely answer, my muscles locking up as another wave of sensation shot through me. It was that awful, nerve-pinching grip—like when someone sneaks up and gives you one of those awful nipple twists that leave you completely defenseless. My back arched slightly against my will, and I grit my teeth, my face burning with embarrassment.
“Roll the dice!” Stacey shouted. “Roll it, Clarissa!”
I was too frozen to respond. My fingers trembled as I reached for the dice, the pressure only growing more intense the longer I hesitated. My whole body felt tense, rigid, trapped under the game’s grip.
Ryan was at my side now, his voice steady but urgent. “Clarissa, just do it. The game’s not playing around.”
Through gritted teeth, I forced my hand forward and grabbed the dice, my chest still aching from the relentless phantom pinch. I rolled. The dice tumbled across the board, and as soon as they landed, the pressure released. My body sagged in relief, and I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, clutching my chest and breathing heavily.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, my heart pounding wildly.
Amelia sat down next to me, her hands trembling. “We’re in real trouble, aren’t we?”
Stacey nodded grimly. “Yeah. And it’s your turn next, Amelia….”