You fight him off as best you can while gasping for air, but it's no use. You're outmatched, and soon you don't even have arms or legs to punch or kick with. You fall onto your back, the room and your brother slowly swelling in size as the brush swishes this way and that across your body.
Finally he finishes, and your body feels warped out of shape, like it has been crushed inside the thin shell of wet latex that coats your skin. You can't sense your arms and legs anymore, and your body doesn't feel even remotely human. You open your mouth to yell, but no sound escapes. At least you no longer seem to need to breath.
You wish you could flex to see what he has done to you, but your new form seems inflexibile, or at least immobile. Chris reaches down, his fingers enveloping you, and carries you over to the hallway mirror.
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