Chapter Text
Philip Ojomo used to be thin. As skinny as a pole. He was almost an anomaly compared to the rest of the residents of the Entity’s realms, or at least amongst the men. Sure, he was heads taller than any survivor, but lacked the muscle to make up for it.
That was no longer the case. Philip grunted as he pulled at a blood-tarnished bandage at his waist. The Entity was kind enough to “reset” people when they came out of a trial, fixing their clothes and patching up any sort of wound accrued, but the Entity didn’t seem to care much about making changes it deems unnecessary. For example, the Entity still refused to fix how tightly his wraps fit him. In fact, every time Philip managed to get them loosened, the Entity would make them tighter again.
With a frustrated growl, Philip simply ripped off the wraps around his gut and threw them to his floor. His pudgy belly surged forward. It felt so good to get all that pressure off of him. His fingers sunk into the fat on his midsection. Half because he suddenly felt self-conscious, but half because the sensitive skin sent tingles as his fingertips brushed against it. While he had his wraps on tight, he hardly noticed his recent weight gain, but now that his gut hung free, every step he took sent waves of wobbles through the surface of his belly. It was all soft, gooey, jiggly fat, almost entirely all put straight onto his waistline.
It all had started when Evan had told him about a new kind of memento mori. Normally, they had to beg for the Entity to let them end a survivor with their own hands, but there seemed to be a strange offering killers could burn for… strange results. An offering that could distort reality seemed almost too good to be true, too much power given to the Entity’s playthings, but it was very much real. The first time he swallowed a survivor whole, it had given him such a rush. It was simply addicting, and at first, he hadn’t even noticed the subtle softness it put onto his usually flat stomach. Combine that with the occasional indulgence of rotten cake and suspicious pudding, and it didn’t take long before Philip could no longer deny that he was putting on pounds.
It wasn’t even just him, though. Evan, of course, felt the effects as well, as the one who discovered it, and some of the other killers were clearly privy as well, based on their tightening clothes. It only took a handful of trials before Max began resembling Bubba a little too closely. And then there were the others...
Philip’s body snapped to attention when he heard the telltale creak of a chest opening in the room below. He thought he was very much alone in the Blood Lodge, but a survivor must have already crept into his realm while he sulked. Like rats hunting for crumbs, survivors frequently invaded his haunts to find some junk to bring into their next trial. It frankly pissed him off, as he only wanted to be alone, but the Entity made sure he was never given such peace.
Philip had nowhere near enough time to finagle those discarded wraps back around the girth of his gut, so Wraith simply swallowed his shame and stormed off towards the sound. There wasn’t even a need to use his wailing bell, as the Entity was kind enough outside of trials to suppress that pesky sixth sense the survivors had. He simply stepped down the stairs, ever so silent, and crept up behind the unsuspecting trespasser. It looked like the survivor had found whatever tool he had wanted to find, as he let out a sigh, slid a flashlight into his pocket, and backed up.
Backed up straight into the Wraith’s gut, however. The curve of his belly fit neatly into the arched back of the survivor, which, of course, caused the man to let out a terrified yelp. He stumbled forward, his glasses somehow getting knocked off as he hit the floor, and by the time he could twist himself around to see The Wraith, a large hand was already around his throat.
“Got you.” Philip whispered to himself. He lifted the scared man straight off the floor, his grip tightening around the survivor’s neck. The smaller man’s frightened fists flew in a flurry, desperately trying to get away from Philip, but it had no effect. The survivor was far too frazzled to actually think about what he was doing, leading to helpless flailing. Philip had ample time to consider what he was going to do with this trespasser. Usually, he just put them down like an animal foaming at the mouth, simple and quick.
But this time… He was still hungry. He hadn’t caught any survivors in the last trial, nor did he have time to eat a decrepit cake before he was rudely interrupted. The only issue was that he had never tried this without burning an offering first, let alone outside of a trial, but he also never tried to. He just assumed the Entity had unwritten rules, as with everything else.
Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
With little hesitation, Philip did as he did in trials, and opened his mouth wide. It felt strange at first, as if the survivor wouldn’t fit, but a weird sensation coursed through him. The Entity’s influence. The survivor screamed and struggled as Philip brought him closer and closer to his throat. However, all it took was one swift push, and the man’s shoulders were suddenly pinned by the tight muscles of Philip’s throat. His tongue ran over the dirty clothes, which was very far from a pleasant taste. He didn’t mind much, though, as he focused on the pleasing sensation of the survivor wriggling inside his mouth. Philip could feel the saliva start to drip down his lips as he slowly lowered the survivor deeper and deeper into his gullet.
Getting their head in was always the easiest, as there was almost no resistance before they met the gate of his throat. Now, though, with only the legs of the survivor hanging out of his mouth, it began to be a struggle. Breathing was laborious, barely managing to rush air past the meal lodged in his throat, and the stubborn survivor wasn’t making it any easier. Slowly but surely, though, his undulating muscles dragged the survivor further down into his chest.
At the same moment that he felt his stomach ring open up, Philip managed to close his lips around the survivor’s legs. He had been smart enough in the moment to take off the man’s muddy shoes just before sealing his fate. The last glimmer of light the survivor had disappeared, and the only air available was the stale remnants of Philip’s own breath. Sometimes, he would swallow down balls of fresh air just to keep his prey wiggling for longer, but he also wasn’t a fan of the gas from the other end that caused. Between the fatty delights the Entity served and the hassle of digesting a survivor whole, Philip’s guts didn’t need any more stress on them, even if Evan seemed to strangely enjoy the sounds...
When the survivor’s full weight finally dropped down into his belly with one last sudden whoosh, Philip was knocked entirely off balance. He stumbled back and hit his back against the wooden wall. Now that his airway was cleared, a chain of burps rattled out of him. Philip wiped the spittle and drool off from his chin and groaned in delight. He ran his palms over the stretched skin of his gut. While his gut had looked disproportionate before, it now looked comically large on his otherwise still thin frame. If it weren’t for the subtle wiggles that shook his belly, it would legitimately look as though he had swallowed a deflated beach ball and blown it up inside of himself.
Philip took a deep breath in as he felt his stomach already beginning to whine. The Entity worked fast, giving his stomach a supernaturally fast digestion speed. Within minutes, he stopped feeling any struggling inside of his stomach, and instead, his stomach began churning on its own. He felt another gas bubble rise in his throat, but he defiantly swallowed it back down. Burping so much felt weird, even if he was completely alone now.
He felt his prey drop down further, and he started to rub his bloated underbelly. His intestines made glorping sounds as his body moved everything out of the way to make space for the massive meal he just consumed. Almost immediately, he felt pressure building up at his once-boney rear. At moments like these, Evan wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of Philip’s now round ass.
Philip couldn’t help but let out some gas. Subconsciously, his hand fell down to the side of his ass after a tight pain passed, but suddenly, he felt his rear plump up. In a single second, his churning guts set pounds of fat straight to his bulging bottom. His hands shot up to his gut, which surged forward another couple inches. It was as if his body was growing like a water balloon. Next was his chest, which didn’t thicken up as much as the rest of him, but he still felt a new layer of pudge. Even his face fattened up a bit.
Philip’s hand slipped down and touched the soft flab just above his crotch. His fingers grabbed hold of his stiff cock and gave it a tentative pulse. Just the motion of stroking himself was enough to send his new belly wobbling. His thighs too, he noted, were also beginning to soften up. While he admittedly felt weird about getting such a big gut, the thought of thickening up everywhere excited him. No more would he be the resident bean pole. Adding some much need thickness to his already imposing height would only serve to make him look much more intimidating.
He imagined how a survivor would twist around to look up at him, his wide shadow casting down on them. His grip around his erection tightened as he imagined them on his shoulder, beating against his thick shoulders and wide chest. The way his gut would simply absorb any punches a rowdy survivor would throw his way. He imagined himself becoming fatter than Evan, fatter than the Clown, even. His impressive belly gurgling and swaying as he chased down his prey. They would look at it and know where their fate lied as it growled in hunger.
Fuck.
He came unexpectedly fast. Spurts of white on what wraps remained on him. It didn’t bother him too much, though, as he simply ripped them off and laid back against the wall with his full splendor on display. His cock fell between his plumped thighs as he let out a long, wet burp.
The only thing he could think about was his next meal.