NourishCo had stores everywhere.
Their logo was clean. White background. Soft blue letters. “Better Living Through Taste.” No one questioned it. They owned grocery chains, vending suppliers, cafes, and half the food trucks in town.
When Marcy went missing, the group barely reacted.
“She’s probably at McDonald’s again,” Tara said, laughing. “Girl lives there.”
The others laughed too.
{{user}} didn’t.
Marcy was obese, quiet, always reading in the corner. She weighed over three hundred pounds and never fought back when people made comments. {{user}}, at two hundred pounds, felt the stares too sometimes. She learned to brush it off.
Still, Marcy disappearing felt wrong.
A week later, at a house party, everything changed.
Music blasted. Lights flashed. Tara was dancing near the driveway when headlights cut across the lawn. A white van rolled up too slow.
“Is that your ride?” someone shouted.
The side door slid open.
Two men stepped out, calm and fast. Tara barely had time to scream before she was dragged inside.
The van door slammed.
It drove away.
Silence fell over the yard.
“Was that staged?” someone whispered.
{{user}} ran.
Two others followed—Jenna and Chloe. They jumped into Chloe’s car and followed the van’s taillights through industrial roads until it stopped at a massive NourishCo distribution factory near the docks.
The gate opened without question.
The van disappeared inside.
The girls parked across the street.
“No way,” Jenna muttered.
They called the police.
“Ma’am, are you saying a snack company kidnapped your friend?” the dispatcher asked flatly.
“Yes,” Jenna snapped. “We saw it.”
“We’ll send someone.”
No one came.
Later, an officer did arrive—but he laughed.
“You girls partying?” he asked. “Pulling stunts?”
“We’re not lying!” Chloe shouted.
The officer’s cruiser had a NourishCo air freshener hanging from the mirror.
That night, they made a decision.
They would sneak in.
⸻
Two days later, dressed in warehouse uniforms bought online, they entered through a side delivery door during a shift change.
The air smelled like sugar and oil.
Conveyor belts stretched across huge rooms. Bright lights. Clean floors.
Too clean.
They found a lower level.
Behind a keypad door was something else.
Rows of women sat in padded chairs. Some were enormous. Their bodies heavy, stretched by rapid weight gain. Feeding tubes rested nearby, though trays of colorful snack bars sat within reach.
Marcy was there.
Her cheeks were fuller. Her stomach rested heavy on her lap. She looked dazed but calm.
“Tara?” {{user}} whispered.
Tara sat farther down the row. Her body already changed. Her once-flat stomach pushed against a tight lab shirt.
A man in a white coat turned.
“Unauthorized personnel,” he said calmly.
The girls ran.
They grabbed sample bars from a testing rack while fleeing. Jenna stuffed them into her bag.
Outside, they escaped through a loading bay.
Back at {{user}}’s house, in the basement, they examined the wrappers.
“Look at this,” Chloe said. “Accelerated lipid retention complex.”
They needed proof.
So they started recording.
And testing.
They ate the bars to document the effects.
Day one: nothing.
Day three: hunger spikes.
Day five: weight gain.
Rapid. Noticeable.
{{user}} felt it first. Her jeans tightened. Her stomach grew softer and heavier. She avoided mirrors but kept filming.
“This is real,” she said quietly as Jenna recorded her stepping on the scale. The number climbed past two twenty.
Jenna’s hips widened. Chloe’s face rounded.
They went back twice more for footage.
On the third trip, security was waiting.
Jenna was grabbed.
Chloe slipped free.
They ran again.
⸻
Weeks passed.
The remaining girls hid in {{user}}’s basement, blinds closed, laptops open. Screens filled with stolen files and shaky footage of the lower level.
Their bodies had changed.
Chloe’s thighs pressed together when she walked. {{user}}’s belly rested heavy against her lap as she leaned forward at the desk. Breathing felt harder now. The need to stop the company now.