Chapter 3: Rising Action
Despite being up all night, Emily walked home energized. She didn't feel any need to sleep. she was too excited.
As he returned to her apartment, she noticed a line of people, all holding some household appliance or electronic device, the line lead all the way to her apartment, where Jack sat, covered by a large black sheet, a large stack of five dollar bills at his hip, classic hard rock blasting from his phone. He was working on a toaster.
He worked quickly with his troll hand, dislodging the spring mechanism, causing it to pop up freely, fixing her toaster. He returned it to the woman, and the next person, a chubby man hand him a minifridge in the shape of an Xbox one and a five dollar bill, and Jack started to work before he looked up at Emily and smiled.
"Hi, Emily, I figured, after a few days of fixing your room, I should do something to earn some money, so I offered to fix anything for a fiver. I guess I should have asked you first." Jack said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Emily couldn't help but notice the contrast between his gentle demeanor and the cruelty of his new appearance. It was a stark reminder of just how much damage the witches could inflict upon those who crossed them.
Despite his newfound ugliness, Emily found herself drawn to Jack. There was something deeply tragic about his situation, and she couldn't help but sympathize with him.
After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. Despite his newfound ugliness, Emily found herself drawn to Jack. There was something endearing about the way he worked so hard to provide for himself despite his circumstances. As she watched him tend to the needs of others, she realized that there was more to him than met the eye. Perhaps beneath his rough exterior lay a kind heart, someone who truly cared about others.
Emily wondered what sort of life he led before becoming a troll. Had he always been lonely, or did he have friends and family who loved him? Those questions haunted her as she watched him work, his troll hands deftly manipulating delicate electronics with ease.
"No, no, you're fine, I imagine you're doing good work." Emily said.
"No complaints so far. Wait, here." Jack said, picking up the pile of cash, counted up a few fives and handed it to her. 35 dollars.
"I felt like you deserve it." Jack said. Emily's jaw dropped. Who was this man? He was sad, but filled with determination, he was vulnerable but refuses to give up. He has all reason to be distrustful yet here he is helping for a small fee.
She takes a deep breath and turns towards him, offering him a small smile. She feels warmth spread through her entire body. He smiles back at her, revealing a crooked set of teeth, clearly visible even with his now gruesome visage. She shivers slightly at the sight, yet she finds herself transfixed. There's an air of tragedy surrounding him that she can't ignore.
"You seem to care about people... Why?" She asks him softly, her voice barely above a whisper. He hesitates for a moment before answering.
"My girlf... I mean, It distracts me. Can't focus on... That, if there's work for me." When I'm done today, I'll do larger thangs that can't be carried to me tomrrow. Seems like there's plenty to do."
Jack said, gesturing towards the line of people waiting for their turn. Emily nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the opportunity to observe such an extraordinary talent firsthand.
As she watched Jack work, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within her.
"Uh, Jack, can I pass?"
"Oh! Right, sorry." Jack stood up and moved aside, and Emily had to suppress a delighted gasp. He was almost the definition of ugly sexy.
His muscles bulging, stretching the skin tight around them. It made Emily wonder how strong he was. Her gaze traced over his body, taking in every rippling muscle, every flexing tendon. He was a living, breathing statue of power and strength. She drank him in, even his big beer belly, soft and round, was masculine and sexy in it's own way. She blushed and rushed inside, as he returned to his work on the minifridge.
She padded inside and started to work on her computer. She noticed that the internet seemed faster and wondered if Jack had done something to it. She started to fine tune her article, sending in a copy to the boss, who said she'd read it later. She then decided to look into the men she was going to turn into big fat trolls. Not the worst people in the world, sure, but defiantly scummy. Lopsided trade deals, price hikes, one of them was responsible for jacking up prices in response to a fine leveed by the government for pollution. Typical white collar misdoings.
Emily shook her head in disbelief, these men needed to be taught a lesson. They couldn't continue harming innocent people like that. If only they knew the pain their actions caused. She wanted to tell them, but then again, maybe they deserved it. Maybe this would teach them a lesson, show them what it feels like to be powerless.
She took another sip of coffee and looked outside the window. The sunlight streaming in, casting shadows on the floor. She couldn't wait until tonight.
"Ow, sumbitch!" Jack shouted from the hall, which was unusual for him. She got up and went to check on her new boyfriend.
Boyfriend? She realized, catching herself. She never had a boyfriend before. She had fuck buddies, she had men she worked with, and regular friends who happened to be male. She was smitten with him. He fixed her things, he fed her, he gave her money. Yet he did this because he wanted to. She chased those feelings away to check on Jack.
When she entered the hallway, she saw Jack sitting on the ground, massaging his foot. She suddenly realized how worried she was for this man she met all of 2 days ago.
"What happened?" She asked immediately, sitting down beside him.
"I dropped the iron on my foot, it hurt, but I'm okay" he answered, flashing her a goofy grin.
Seeing him injured sent a wave of protectiveness surging through her. She reached out and touched his arm, tenderly running her fingers over the thick skin. "Let me see," she insisted.
He reluctantly lifted his leg, displaying the injury to her. It wasn't pretty - the burn mark left by the hot metal was already turning purple. He placed his foot back down, and smiled at Emily.
"Don't worry about me, I can take care of my self, Em." He said, returning the iron to the elderly woman he fixed it for. She smiled and moved to Emily.
"If you ever tire of the sexy troll repairman, you send him my way." She whispered to Emily. This made her smile.
It was nice to know that someone cared enough about her wellbeing to take care of her. But the thought of him getting hurt again sent a shiver down her spine.
"You be careful Jack, I realize I like having you around, and more than just because you fix my stuff." Emily said, grinning goofily. Jack's face fell and he blushed, his red blood appearing under his green skin as he turned away. Emily could audibly hear his heart pound harder.
"I-I, have m-more work to do." He returned to work on the next thing, a strange looking device she didn't recognize, but Jack attacked with gusto. She realized that he might still be too raw from his violation to be okay with a woman saying such things to him, she made a mental note to be more sensitive to him in the future. She turned back and started to make a tv dinner, wondering if she should make something for Jack. She wasn't much of a cook.
She had, for a time, thought that cooking was part of men's oppression of women, and refused to learn, which in turn, blazed a hole in her bank account as she ate at restaurant and take away. She still didn't know much, and sadly, Jack's Scrambled eggs in bed the previous morning, and his Fried Egg and Ramen dished yesterday were the closest she had to a home cooked meal in years. She paused as a thought occured.' What if the Business men we turn into trolls act like Jack post transformation?'
Emily wondered, watching Jack work. 'or They might become violent, lash out in anger.' She mused. 'We need to stay with them after the ritual, ensure that they don't hurt anyone.' She looked over at Jack, who was busy working on a laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.
He seemed like a good egg, even before he seemed kind. He might be compensating in recovery, or he might be undergoing some kind of reaction in shock, but as far as she could tell, Jack was a decent man. And she trusted her instincts when it came to reading people. His social media told a story of a life roughly lived. Military service, loss of a girlfriend in an accident, a clear fight against the coldness and bitterness that could follow loss.
Emily wondered, watching Jack work. His brow furrowed in concentration as he sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by wires and bits of circuitry. In the light of the apartment, she could see the veins standing out prominently on his arms, testament to the incredible strength he possessed. As he fiddled with the innards of the device, she caught a whiff of sweat and something else, something earthy and musky, emanating from his pores.
It triggered a sudden memory of being close to him, of feeling his hot breath on her neck as he bent over her. She shivered involuntarily, her nipples hardening beneath her shirt.
Emily cleared her throat and spoke up. "So, Jack, where did you learn to do all this?" She asked casually, gesturing towards the array of electronic components laid out on the table.
"Self-taught," he replied cheerfully.
"See, I have a theory that every manufactured product is built by human hands, and there for should be able to be fixed by human hands. Humans designed it and if there isn't something missing it should be able to returned to a functional stated by returning the parts to the right place. And it's a simple matter of figuring out what goes where and why it is there, and arranging it so that returns to the way it was when it worked." He chirped, Popping the cover of the computer back into the frame and hainding it back to the teenagers who had handed it to him.
Emily felt her phone buzz, checking the message from her editor informing her that her article had been approved and would be published tomorrow night. She felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her system. Her piece was finally going to hit the stands.
But as she settled down to sleep, images of the three witches floated before her eyes. Amelia's long blonde hair twisting and tangling in the wind as she chanted incantations over her cauldron.
Sophia stood by her side, eyes closed in concentration as she added ingredients to the potion. Lily watched from afar, playing with the fire, causing small flames to dance around her fingertips.
As the moon rose higher into the sky, the three witches completed their preparations, gathering their cloaks and heading out into the night. Their destination: a high-class charity event where wealthy businessmen gathered to rub elbows and discuss deals.
Emily followed closely behind, camera in hand.
Her heart raced with anticipation as they approached the venue, a grand ballroom filled with glittering lights and the sounds of laughter and music. Jack stayed close, his eyes wide with curiosity as he observed the goings-on around them.
Inside, Emily watched as the witches mingled among the guests, casting envious glances at the lavish attire and expensive jewels adorning the bodies of the rich and powerful.
Amelia used her powers of persuasion to draw them closer, spinning tales of lost love and untold fortunes hidden within the depths of their souls. Sophia played along, providing additional support as they led their marks deeper into the ballroom. Lily trailed behind, eager to witness the final outcome of their plan.
As the clock struck midnight, the three witches gathered together in a dimly lit corner of the room, their victims close by.
With a nod from Amelia, they began their ritual, chanting ancient words and sprinkling powders onto the unsuspecting men. One by one, they transformed into grotesque trolls, their faces contorted with rage and their bodies distorted beyond recognition. Pandemonium erupted throughout the ballroom as guests screamed and fled in terror.
Emily captured it all on film, her camera clicking frantically as she documented the chaos unfolding before her. Jack watched in awe, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Then something went wrong, The trolls grabbed the witches and ripped them in half, they fell upon jack and ripped him to pieces, and they encircled Emily, ill intent in their eyes, they reached out and groped and pawed at her, their eyes filled with an evil lust.
Emily Screamed and awoke. She jolted up right and wiped at her brow, she looked at the clock it was 1 am. Jack bolted into the room, his face pulled into an angry snarl.
"Emily! Are you okay?" Jack asked, clearing the length of the room in a bound. Emily instinctively wrapped her arms around Jack, who tensed up, but worked through it.
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down, as she surveyed the damage done to her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she slowly became aware of Jack's presence.
"Shh, it's okay," Jack murmured softly, taking her hands and holding them tightly. He knew how to comfort her, and she clung to him like a lifeline. Jack held her until she calmed down, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair, trying to ease her pain.
"I-I, I had a bad dream, that's all." She said.
Jack stroked her head, letting her cry against his shoulder, feeling her warmth seep into him. It was strange how she affected him, how strong an urge he had to protect her, to help her however he could. He couldn't understand it himself, it made no sense given his general state of mind. All he knew was that he wanted to shield her from harm, to make sure nothing ever caused her pain again. Emily eventually pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"You're okay. It happens. Would you like something to help you get back to sleep?" Jack asked quietly. Emily shook her head and gave Jack a kiss on the cheek. He visibly recoiled, but smiled through it. He still hurt, but his fondness for Emily was helping him through it.
He took solace in knowing that she cared about him, that she saw something worth saving in him. It was enough to give him hope, to make him want to push through the pain and keep fighting. Besides, he had someone to live for now - someone who made all the suffering worthwhile.
He turned to return to the couch, Emily gazed upon his back as he walked away. His back was a billboard for the gold standard of muscles, his fatty love handles melted into his back like it had been carved for maximum performance, and his ass was lovely, round and heavily muscled. Emily opened her mouth to say something, to call him back to her bed so he may cuddle with her, to hold her, to keep her safe, but no words came out, and Jack returned to the couch.
She sat there alone and quiet for what seemed like hours, laid back down and returned to a restless, but thankfully dreamless, sleep.