Chapter 1: Start

Harold had once been the heart and soul of the small corner café, a cozy spot where the locals gathered to enjoy the best pies, cakes, and warm conversations. His appearance had always been imposing: a large man with a long, orderly beard, and silver hair cascading in soft waves over his shoulders. His weight was never a concern for him—at least not at first. But everything changed when he decided to close the doors of his beloved café.

Over time, Harold began to lose himself. The days of actively working behind the counter, greeting customers with a smile, and preparing orders became a distant memory. Now, his only companion was food. The café, always stocked with delicious products, became his refuge, but also his prison.

At first, he allowed himself a few indulgences—a cake here, a burger there. But slowly, those small treats turned into monstrous feasts. Every time he ate, it was as if he was trying to fill an emotional void, one that food could never truly satisfy. Soon, the occasional indulgence became a relentless routine.

Harold stopped opening his café to the public. He locked the doors and isolated himself from the outside world. He spent his days and nights sitting in his recliner, watching time pass while devouring everything in sight. Fast food deliveries, orders of pies and pastries that he had once served to customers, piled up around him. His body began to accumulate fat at an alarming rate. His belly, once prominent but manageable, started to expand at an astonishing pace. At first, he felt uncomfortable with the changes, but soon, something inside him shifted.

The process of letting go completely brought him an odd sense of freedom. The control he once had over his life was now slipping away, and with every bite, he sank deeper into that loss of control. His stomach swelled to massive proportions, stretching his skin to unimaginable limits. He could feel his belly bulging in front of him, hanging down and resting on his thighs, and he could no longer see his own feet.

His moobs, enormous and heavy, rested on his abdomen, swaying with each breath, each movement. The stretched skin and accumulated fat gave him a feeling of weight he had never imagined. But what surprised him most was how that sensation enveloped him in a strange euphoria, as if the control he had lost offered him a new form of existence.

Soon, his body grew so large that moving became a monumental task. He no longer fit in his bed, and sleeping became a constant struggle to find a comfortable position. Yet, the fatigue never stopped him. Each day, with the rising sun, a new feast awaited him. The fat continued to take over his body, folding into grotesque layers across his back, arms, and especially his belly, which seemed to expand without limit.

The few townspeople who passed by Harold's closed café began to talk. Rumors spread that the old man had stopped leaving his home entirely. Some claimed to have seen his shadow through the windows, growing larger and more distorted with each passing day. Yet, no one dared to knock on his door.

Harold's transformation wasn't just physical; his mind was crumbling too. The things that once mattered—his café, his friends, even his own health—no longer held any value. Now, there was only him and the food.