As Jackson sat down with his friends at a corner table, his laughter echoed throughout the bakery. "Come on, Bret," he taunted, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. "Magic pastries? Seriously? You can't actually believe that nonsense, can you?"
Bret, sitting across from him, crossed his arms and shot back, "I'm just saying, there have been stories. People have gotten bigger after eating from this place. It's not just a rumor."
"Stories and rumors, Bret? That's all they are. I mean, look around!" Jackson gestured to the bakery's charming interior, the delicious treats on display, and the customers chatting and savoring their bites. "This is just a regular bakery, making regular food."
Bret sighed, shaking his head. "Well, if you're so confident, why don't you try one of the pastries yourself?"
Jackson chuckled, thinking he had won the argument. But then Bret leaned in with a sly grin, "I double dare you."
The challenge hung in the air, and Jackson felt his bravado slipping. He hesitated, his gaze flickering between his friends and the array of treats. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and stood up. "Fine," he grumbled, his voice laced with reluctance. "I'll prove to you all that this is just a bunch of nonsense."
Walking up to the counter, he picked out a cinnamon roll and tossed some coins onto the counter. Elizabeth, watching from the corner of the bakery, couldn't help but smirk. She had been waiting for a moment like this.
Returning to his table, Jackson held the cinnamon roll in his hand, examining it as if it were an ordinary pastry. He took a deep breath and took a bite, savoring the sweet, warm flavors that filled his mouth. For a moment, nothing happened, and he couldn't help but grin in Bret's direction.
But then, he felt a peculiar sensation in his limbs. His fingers twitched, and he glanced down, his eyes widening as he watched his hands stretch and elongate before his very eyes. The skin of his hands became smoother, his nails longer and more polished. Panic surged through him, and he dropped the half-eaten cinnamon roll, which had now fallen from his oversized hand.
His heart raced as his body continued to shift and change. The buttons on his shirt strained against the expanding muscles of his chest, the fabric groaning as it stretched to accommodate his growing form. His shoulders broadened, causing the seams of his jacket to tear with a sharp rip.
The room seemed to tilt around him as he felt himself growing taller, the legs of his chair creaking under the pressure. Jackson's breath quickened, his panic intensifying as his feet burst out of his shoes, sending leather and laces flying.
His friends at the table stared in shock, their expressions a mix of fear and astonishment. One of them let out a shaky laugh, "Uh, Jackson? I think you might want to stop now."
But it was too late. Jackson's body continued to expand, his legs stretching and pushing against the underside of the table. His pants struggled to keep up with his growth, the fabric audibly tearing as it strained to cover his elongating legs.
Elizabeth, enjoying the spectacle, couldn't hide her amusement any longer. A satisfied smirk played on her lips as she watched Jackson's transformation unfold.
With a final burst of growth, Jackson's head nearly grazed the ceiling. His jacket and shirt hung in tatters from his colossal frame, and he found himself crouching on all fours to avoid breaking through the ceiling. His friends stared up at him in awe, their fear now fully realized.
As the growth spurt came to a halt, Jackson's eyes darted around the bakery, his heart still pounding. He had gone from mocking disbelief to towering reality in a matter of moments. And in the corner of the room, Elizabeth's knowing smile spoke volumes.
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