The Hardening

With the passing of the years, the tales about that night have grown more fantastic, especially at the university itself. Some people say it’s all a story, a myth, an urban legend; but others point to the still-empty sorority house on the edge of campus, and tell you the ghosts of those young women still haunt its halls.

Although it’s been almost 10 years since twenty-three girls who called that rambling old structure home disappeared, the place sits shuttered and vacant. When the girls vanished, the sorority chapter folded; a fraternity moved in, but left in a few months; the building was sold, and a couple of people tried to run a student rooming house; but nothing ever took.

Its paint peeling and its roof leaking where shingles have blown off, the vacant house is a sad memorial to almost two dozen lives that came to an abrupt end that night. Despite diligent investigation, no one --none of the loved ones or friends of those young women-- have been able to find out what actually happened to them.

Given the strange reality of it, it’s probably best that none of them know the truth.

We can see it, though -- IF we are prepared to open our eyes to the horrible reality of what happened that night. If we really are going to confront it, we have to face not only the physical destruction; we also need to deal with the savagely twisted mind that could concoct such sadistic means of torture....

But first, let’s travel back a decade, when the house was still bright with life and hope and laughter, filled with young women on the cusp of adulthood. One of them, Valerie Mitchell, has just walked in and is collecting her mail. She’s with two of her friends in the house, Julie Wyatt and Tara Peterson. Riffling through the stack, Valerie mutters, “New Cosmo, letter from home, bill, bill, Victoria’s Secret catalog, bill, bill, hmmm....this is odd....it looks like a letter from a lawyer.”

Soon, she had torn the envelope open and was quickly scanning the letter’s contents. She had to brush her long brown hair away from her face a couple of times as she digested the lengthy communiqué. All she managed when she had finished was a quiet, “No shit?”

“Well?” Julie asked. “Yeah, Well?” Tara demanded. “Are you gonna tell us, or do we have to pry it out of you?”

Valerie walked over to a large couch in the living room and sat down. Her friends followed her. She was silent for a long moment, then finally spoke. “It’s my Uncle Wordsworth....actually, I think he was a great-uncle....this says he’s died, and left me his mansion.”

Tara looked at her in disbelief. “What’s there not to be excited about? Even if you don’t want to live there, you can sell it and get a big pile of money!”

“It’s not so simple,” Valerie said. “I never even met him. He’s a relative, or was a relative of my mother’s. She said there were a lot of strange stories about him being into really kinky sex. I’ve never even been to this mansion....according to the family stories, it’s like some big old haunted house or something.”

“Like I said, It’s not that simple,” Valerie replied. “According to this letter, his will says I have to live in the place for at least a week before I can sell it.”

“A week! No prob!” Julie suggested. “We can all go during spring break...invite the whole house. If there is anything spooky about the place, it won’t take on all of us!”

The three girls shared a good laugh, and Valerie agreed to their plan. Soon, as the word spread through the house, all agreed to join the adventure. These young women had diverse aims; some wanted to make their mark in the business world, others in society; still others weren’t looking much farther then next weeks’ chemistry test.

But they did have a few things in common. Besides being young, they were almost all rich and beautiful. And they all shared a spirit of adventure, and that strange belief the young posess that they are immortal.

Move ahead now, just four weeks, as a caravan of four cars packed with sorority girls comes pulling up to the rusted front gates of the Wordsworth mansion. Julie steps out and gets a good look at the big, sprawling stone hulk, and she thinks that maybe it is something out of a horror flick; it was well off the main highway, invisible to most of the world in a heavily wooded setting. The private road that led to the place was barely passable.

The big sprawling place was a mixture of massive stone and brick work and looked to be the product of a demented architect; it was as if Charles Foster Kane met Dracula, or something. The rambling structure may have been well-kept up once, but that had been years before. Now, ivy snaked all over the walls, which were cracked in several places; a layer of grime covered the rest of the exterior, and also the windows -- at least the ones that weren’t boarded over.

Valerie’s best friend, Jenna Payne, was sitting in the front seat of her Mercedes; she suddenly cried out, “Man, this place is too scary for my blood!” Valerie angrily stuck her head back inside the car and snapped, “May I remind you, Miss Payne, that you were one of those most enthusiastic about coming here?”

Julie and Tara were sitting in the back seat. They began making ghostly haunted house-type noises. “Cut it out, you two!” Jenna snapped. “I’m not kidding! I’m really freaked out!”

“Oh, come on!” Valerie said with an exasperated sigh. “You act like the place is really haunted or something!” She was actually pulling on her friend’s arm in an effort to coax her out of the car.

With a noticeable trembling, Jenna finally joined the group of young women who entered the massive, badly weathered oak front doors of the mansion. The appearance of the place inside did nothing to dispel their feelings of fear and gloom. The outside was reflected inside; massive, clearly once beautiful, but too long allowed to go to ruin.

The huge stone walls were covered with grime and water stains from the numerous exterior leaks. All the rugs seemed worn and threadbare, while the furniture was covered with a film of dust and grime.

“Your uncle supposedly just died, Valerie?” wondered Kelly, another of Val’s close friends. “It looks like no one has cleaned this place in years.” She ran her finger through a thick layer of dust on a large table.

Strangely, though, there were other signs that the house had been inhabited fairly recently. There was a modern telephone system, alarm system with surveillance cameras, televisions, stereos. Sandy, another member of the group, said, “Somebody’s a gadget freak.” Karen, Sandy’s close friend, said, “Yeah, I think I saw a couple of satellite dishes out on the lawn.” Valerie said that ought to make everyone feel better; although they were isolated, they wouldn’t be cut off from the outside world.

They wandered to the kitchen, where they found a huge refrigerator and pantry, both well-stocked. “Just like the lawyer said it would be,” Valerie said with relief.

The girls fixed themselves soup and sandwiches and sat down in the cavernous dining room. Although it was a beautiful spring evening, the windows were so clouded with grime that almost no outside light was allowed in. Jenna said, “I don’t care if you all think I’m a big baby, I’m still scared of this place.” She cringed at the laughter that echoed through the big room.

“It does kind of look like the sort of place that should have a dungeon,” Sandy whispered to Karen. “Yeah, complete with lots of bondage gear,” she agreed.

“Look,” Valerie said, trying to calm her anxious friend, “How about if you and I room together? Will that make you feel better?” Jenna nodded nervously and said, “I--I guess so.”

The sprawling house had no shortage of sleeping rooms; still, all the girls decided they would be happier paired up. It wasn’t even 9 p.m., but they soon had found their way to their quarters. Valerie was tired, and almost immediately climbed into her long silky green nightgown and into bed. Jenna, though, sat in front of the ancient vanity, its mirror clouded with age, wearing her pink baby-doll nightie and running a brush through her long, silky brown hair.

“You know I always do this before bed,” Jenna responded. “It helps me unwind.” Soon, Jenna had finished her 100 strokes and she noticed that Valerie was fast asleep; yet she was still too tense to relax; she wished she had brought some sleeping pills. Instead, she put on her robe and decided to go exploring in the big old house. The girls had hardly seen any of it after their arrival, and she figured part of her fear was simply fear of the unknown.

Jenna wandered down one corridor, then another, and soon was struck by the realization that she had no idea where she was in relation to the bedrooms. Oddly, she wasn’t scared; perhaps because she was so fascinated by the strange assortment of rooms, some of which looked like relics from another era (heavy draperies, leather-bound books, overstuffed sofas and armchairs), while others were filled with very contemporary furniture and electronic gear.

There was a fully-equipped gym, with all sorts of equipment; what appeared to be a surveillance center, with rows of television screens bringing in signals from remote cameras around the complex; room after room filled with nothing but piles of stored junk.

She stopped, though, when she came to the sewing room. Jenna had always loved to sew. She was fascinated by the sight of a turn-of-the century sewing machine, piles of cloth, a large table with a pattern spread out on it; everything, she thought in passing, but a dress-maker’s dummy. She walked over to the table to take a closer look at the pattern, wondering what it was for, and how long it had been since anyone had worked on it.

Jenna picked up part of the pattern, and didn’t notice the sewing needle that stuck her fingertip. She jerked her hand away at the momentary pain. She looked at the finger, expecting to see drops of blood oozing from it. Instead, it seemed as if the wound was healed; but the finger was quickly taking on a strange, plastic-like appearance; that soon spread to the rest of her hand, which rapidly lost feeling.

“What the--” was all Jenna was able to get out before the paralysis began to set in. The change spread down her arm, then into her torso, where it rippled across her body. Flesh and blood and bone became hollow plastic. A full-length mirror just happened to be positioned where Jenna could witness her transformation.

Although her body was becoming plasticized, she could still move, though stiffly, slowly.

Jenna’s nightgown disintegrated, letting her see her own, teardrop shaped breasts change into perfect half-globes with painted nipples at their center. Her arms reached up, and she found her hands moving across the perfect, hard curves. Though filled with fear, she also found herself sexually excited. She watched in horror as her pussy vanished, replaced by a sexless expanse of plastic. But when she reached down to touch herself at that spot, she found an orgasmic wave shooting through her stiffening form.

The change continued to spread, moving down her legs, and up into her head. She felt a strange compulsion to move her limbs into a mannequin-like pose. Despite her best efforts to fight it, she found her arms and legs moving as if they were no longer under her control.

Jenna’s lips, forever shut, now were permanently painted red. Her deep brown eyes would never lose their sparkle, as they had become glass. Her lustrous hair, her pride and joy, was now acrylic fiber. Jenna realized she would spent eternity as a mannequin. Although her outer expression was unblinking, unchanging, she was feeling a storm of terror inside.

Though she had no way of knowing it, Jenna wasn’t the only member of the group who had trouble sleeping, and wasn’t the only one undergoing a strange transformation.

Kelly, another close friend of Valerie’s, was in the room just across the hall, rooming with Rena. A tall, leggy blonde, Kelly was putting herself through college teaching aerobics at a local gym. Although she hadn’t wanted to admit it to the group, she too, was terrified by the big old place, and found it difficult to sleep.

After tossing and turning for almost an hour, she had climbed out of bed and put on her full workout gear, including black and red spandex body suit, red leg warmers and matching headband. She soon found her way to the gym. She looked around in amazement at the up-to-date gear.

When she spotted a super-large TV screen, with an attached video recorder, curiosity seemed to compel her to turn the set on and press “play.” She saw that it was an amazingly beautiful woman --almost perfect in her appearance-- leading an exercise routine. Behind her, were three other women, all similar in their flawlessness, who were repeating every step of the workout.

“Alright, ladies, let’s go!” the voice on the video said, and Kelly soon found herself following along. The workout seemed to be building in intensity, and Kelly realized that even though she was tiring, and wanted to turn off the set...she couldn’t....she just couldn’t. Something was compelling her to continue. Kelly had been a good ten feet from the large screen when she started the routines, but found herself almost unconsciously inching steadily closer to the set. She muttered “shit” as she felt the pain beginning to build in her muscles. Beads of sweat broke out across her brow.

When she had moved to within six feet of the big screen, Kelly began to feel a powerful pull. Now she was aware of being sucked toward the screen. She tried to resist, but it was as if a giant magnet was inexorably dragging her in that direction. “No!” she cried, doing her best to break free.

“What the hell is going on!” she cried. They were the last words Kelly would ever speak. She found herself suddenly shrinking, and in the pull of a powerful, vacuum-like force. With a sense of horror, she realized that she was being pulled into the video!

In a flash, she was actually in the video; she was one of four dazzling women following the routine of the leader; and she would be compelled to do so for all time.

Valerie was still sleeping soundly, but Rena was wondering what became of her friend. She thought about going exploring, but realized she was too creeped out by the place to do so alone. She tried to read for awhile, then turned on the TV, but found she couldn’t concentrate.

It wasn’t a surprise. Rena had second thoughts about going on this adventure almost from the time the caravan pulled away from the campus. Although her major was officially listed as art history, she told everyone with a laugh that it should be “sex education.” Rena was a junior, and had never had a steady boyfriend; she was too busy sampling her way through the student body, and much of the faculty, to settle on any one partner on a steady basis.

Her tastes, however, ran strictly to men, so she found herself wondering why she had gotten swept up in this crazy outing. A week in this old mansion didn’t bother her...but a week without men? That was a different story entirely. She held the remote control in her hand, furiously clicking through all 500 channels pulled in by the estate’s satellite dishes.

Within a few minutes, she snapped off the set in disgust, and began searching through the drawers of the bedside table. Who knew what she might find?

Soon, Rena hit the jackpot -- or so she thought. A huge smile spread across her face as she pulled out the biggest, shiniest vibrator she had ever seen. It wasn’t a man, but it would more than do in an emergency.

She pulled off the purple panties that matched her baby-doll nightie and climbed back into bed. She reclined backward and spread her legs, looking forward to the moment of pleasure ahead. As soon as she flipped the switch and felt the device coming to life in her hand, a smile spread across her face.

As Rena slipped the tool into her already-moist pussy, she felt an electric current begin to course through her entire body; this wasn’t any ordinary love toy, to be sure. But she liked it! Even if she wanted to (and she didn’t want to) she couldn’t have pulled it out of her...she felt a strange compulsion to keep thrusting the buzzing vibrator inside of her, deeper, harder, faster.

Before she knew it, waves of a climax were breaking over her flesh. As that happened, the flesh itself began to change, to a life-like silicone. As Rena lost conscious control of her body, the still-buzzing dildo slipped out of her hand and dropped to the floor.

Her skeleton was changing to articulated plastic; her muscles, fat and veins were all solidifying into silicone rubber. Her face was now frozen in a perpetual smile; her eyes would always be lit up with passion. As the transformation ended, her pussy popped open, much like a flower permanently blooming.

If you held snapshots of Rena’s face before and after her change side-by-side, you might find it hard to tell which was which. Her transformation into a sophisticated love doll was so perfect, so realistic, that you could hardly tell the difference.

The new Rena’s mouth would be forever open to receive a wet kiss or a well-lubricated penis; her breasts were ready to be kneaded, squeezed and sucked endlessly without a murmur of complaint from her; and her pussy and anus were eternally inviting any kind of probing or exploration. Somewhere, inside this latex shell, the mind of Rena lived; but she would never be able to communicate with the outside world again.

As for the other 20 girls...they made it through the night unchanged.....with no idea of the terrors that awaited them with the dawning of the new day.

They had all been together for their evening meal, but their waking times the next morning were staggered. They made their way to the kitchen in ones and twos and fours, some having fruit, some cereal, some just a cup of coffee. Because they weren’t dining together, most of them didn’t realize at first that three of their number were missing.

It was a sunny, spring morning, so two of the girls, Sandy and Karen, decided to change to their bikinis and catch some early rays by the pool. The vast yard behind the mansion was mostly overgrown, but the area around the pool had been kept cleared. It was hard to figure out why though; the heavy old concrete had large cracks radiating through it, and weeds were growing out of those cracks. It was clear the pool hadn’t been used in years.

It was also evident that the pool had once been a pride of the estate. It was surrounded by the ruins of an elaborate garden, several pieces of handsome statuary, and a small, low-slung building that seemed to hold a series of showers and changing stalls. When the girls went exploring, they were surprised to find the showers were in working order and the building was fully stocked with supplies, including towels and a shelf full of suntan lotion.

“Oh, good!” Sandy exclaimed when she found the row of lotion bottles. She had forgotten to pack any. She was a fair-complexioned redhead, who burned easily, so was very happy to make this discovery. Karen, a buxom blonde, also took advantage of the discovery.

Both girls changed into skimpy bikinis, then settled down in lounge chairs next to the empty pool. They both slathered on the lotion pretty heavily, as the sun seemed to be breaking through early on this morning. Karen, who hadn’t slept well the night before, almost immediately dozed off under the warm rays. Perhaps it was easier that way....she probably never knew what happened to her.

Sandy, however, had slept quite soundly, and had downed her usual four cups of morning coffee. So when the hardening process began, she was fully aware of it. But she still couldn’t do anything about it.

First, she was aware of a heaviness in her feet. She tried to wiggle her toes, and realized that she couldn’t. She put down the novel she had just opened and saw to her horror that her feet were turning to marble; and the transformation wasn’t stopping there; it was rapidly moving up her legs. “Oh Gawd!” she screamed. Looking over at Karen, she saw the process was even farther along with her. Not only were her legs and feet stone, so was her pelvis; never again would she feel the pleasures of a man’s equipment inside her now-solid pussy.

“Karen! Karen!” she screamed again and again. But it was useless. One final cry of “Help!” also went unheard, as it couldn’t penetrate the thick walls of the big house. Although she couldn’t see it, Sandy somehow knew that her insides were turning to solid marble; as the fear pushed adrenaline through the parts of her body that were still living flesh, she had felt her heart beating more rapidly and her breathing becoming faster and shallower.

Soon, however, she had no need to breathe, as her lungs were no more; the pounding sensation in her chest subsided as her heart turned solid; with her last second of conscious freedom, she turned her head toward the house, looking expectantly for the rescue that would not come in time.

It was just a few more minutes before two more beautiful, lifelike pieces of statuary had been added to the collection outside the pool. Those who saw the Karen statue in the future would never fail to comment on the peaceful look on her stone face, while people gazing at the piece of marble that had been Sandy were always struck by her expression of surprise. They both seemed so real, so life-like.

Inside the mansion, Valerie had been one of those who slept late. When she awoke and found Jenna’s bed undisturbed, she immediately had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She threw on a halter and shorts and rounded up as many girls as she could find. A quick head count found Jill, Linda, Barbara, Callie, Lindsey, Sara, Carly, Maya and Kim were all still around.

Vicky and Carin had been seen earlier in the morning, so no one was worrying about them, though they should have been.

About the same time the search party for Jenna was being organized, a Range Rover was making its way up the winding road that led to the mansion. Behind the wheel was Frank, Jill’s boyfriend. The two of them had quarreled a couple of nights earlier, and he wanted to pay a surprise visit to the girls, see if they needed anything in the way of supplies...and of course do whatever he could to repair the relationship.

Frank couldn’t believe how out of the way this old house was. He was crossing all sorts of gullies and streams, and the closer he got, the more rickety the bridges seemed. He had just barely made it across the last of them when it collapsed with a tremendous crash. Frank was a football lineman, big and fearless; but when he turned his head to see the rotted wood fragments where the bridge had stood moments before, a jolt of fear shook through him.

“Holy shit! I coulda been killed!” he cried out. It took him a couple of minutes to catch his breath and regain his composure. When he did, Frank smiled. He smiled broadly because he realized this meant he would be alone with 23 girls for however long it took for the bridge to be repaired!

While Sandy are Karen were meeting their rigid fate outdoors, Vicky and Carin had discovered their own form of trouble in another of the mansion’s endless string of rooms. It was fitting, perhaps, that they found the billiards room. The two of them were known for spending most nights in one of the taverns near campus, shooting pool, drinking beer, picking up men.

Although the sex was the first priority, and the beer was second, both girls took pride in their pool games, so leapt on this opportunity to polish their technique a bit. The room was done up in heavy, dark carpets and wall tapestry, and the layer of dust was thick. But the pool table was protected by a canvas cover, and when they flicked the switch, the chandelier seemed to put out almost enough light....there were a couple of candelabras, and when they lit them, the room took on a fairly cheerful glow.

All the women in the house were good looking, but Vickie was probably the most gorgeous. Tall, blonde, with a perfect figure, sparkling blue eyes and a dazzling smile, just about everyone considered her centerfold material. And now, her dream was about to come true. The week after the school term ended, Vickie was scheduled to fly to Los Angeles for a photo shoot. If all went as expected, she would be the subject of a photo-spread in the just-revived OUI magazine.

Carin, a short, curvy brunette, was quite lovely too, if not quite centerfold material.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Carin suggested. “If I win this game, you pay my way out to Los Angeles with you.”

“What’s in it for me?” Vickie asked. Carin thought for a minute and said, “If I lose, I’ll pay my own way, and be your personal slave for the entire week.”

Vickie tossed back her long blonde hair, laughed, and said, “Get ready to lose, dear. By the way, I like my morning coffee with cream and two sugars...and my evening martini shaken, not stirred.”

Carin broke, and then ripped off a streak of amazing shots....one ball after another finding their way into their pockets. Vickie began to squirm a bit uncomfortably. It looked like she was going to be out the price of a plane ticket to the coast, without even having the chance to make a shot herself. She could afford it, yes, but still, the humiliation...and she was already looking forward to the services of her slave!

A couple of minutes later, Carin had sunk the last ball with a triumphant, “HAH!” She turned to Vickie and said, “Don’t feel so bad, Vickie....you still get the satisfaction of being immortalized in all your naked glory.”

Vickie started to giggle, but then stopped. Carin could see the look of concern on her face, and asked, “What’s the matter?”

“I...I don’t know,” she said. “It feel like something’s....pulling at me....”

Carin looked with amazement as the figure of the nude woman in the giant picture frame above the table began to fade, then disappeared. At the same moment, there was a glow around Vickie, and she began to shrink. An unexplainable force was pulling her toward the frame. As she moved toward it, her clothing disintegrated, and she seemed to become flat, virtually two-dimensional.

“What the hell?” Carin exclaimed. Then, she heard the voice. It was much quieter, and sounded strangely muffled, but she recognized it as Vickie’s.

Slowly, Carin looked back at the giant picture in the gilded frame...there was a nude woman reclining on the couch once again....only this time, it was Vickie! She was now a flat, one-dimensional painting, but it was clear that it was her. “Help me! For God’s sake, Carin, get me out of here!”

Carin’s eyes bulged wide, her mouth dropped open, and she stared for a long moment at her friend, now trapped inside the painting. When she was finally able to close her mouth, it immediately opened again. What came out was a piercing scream. She began to cry and flail wildly, first running into the pool table, then a wall, then into one of the tables where a candelabra sat.

The candelabra shook, but did not fall; but some of the hot wax dripped onto Carin’s hand and arm. She screamed again, not so much in pain as in continued terror. She finally spotted the door and started in that direction, but her movements were curiously slow, as if she was running through hot tar. Each step was slower than the one before.

Carin was too upset and bewildered to realize what was happening to her. Perhaps Vickie could see, from inside her new canvas prison. A change was slowly spreading up Carin’s body, from toes, to ankles, to calves, everything was solidifying. Her knees stiffened, then her hips, pelvis and torso. Soon her breasts were immobilized as well. Her arms were frozen in mid-stride; her face, her hair, would be forever as they were at this moment.

From head to toe, Carin was a statue of wax. She would be preserved eternally in this state...unless things got too warm. She had to pray that no one would ever decide to put a giant wick in her.

The girls who were aware that Jenna was missing were starting to fan out through the mansion. Valerie had set off by herself, and stumbled into an old office, complete with a battered metal filing cabinet and roll-top desk. There was a row of ledger books on a shelf above the desk. Valerie began leafing through them, hoping they might provide some clue to the workings of her uncle’s estate. But all the entries she found dealt with mundane matters -- maintenance, utilities, purchases of food and other household supplies.

However, when Valerie opened a book filled with newspaper clippings, she began to develop a feeling of dread. There were articles from papers in the region, dating back at least to the early part of the 20th century, describing strange disappearances of women in the area. In more than one case, the woman had some sort of link to the house; either she was an employee, or had attended a social function there, or something similar.

They had some other things in common. They were all described as young and attractive, and in each instance, the house was either the last place they had been seen or their final destination before their disappearance .Valerie tried to force herself not to think about what the evidence was starting to point to; she closed the scrapbook and resumed her search for her friend.

Meanwhile, Frank was pulling into the yard, near where the girls had parked their vehicles. He tried the front doors, but found them locked, so decided to see if anyone was outdoors. He hiked around to the back of the house where he found the pool, and the newly transformed Sandy and Karen. Although Frank had spent plenty of time around the sorority, he didn’t recognize the girls in this state.

Frank was immediately struck by their beauty, however...so much so that he couldn’t resist feeling them both up. His hands ran up a smooth stone leg, and he found himself becoming strangely aroused. The curve of solid, perfect buttocks and breasts was powerfully alluring. Although he wasn’t even fully aware of it, Frank had soon unzipped his jeans and pulled out his aching member.

As he began to stroke his rapidly-stiffening manhood, Frank’s hand made contact with a spot of still undried lotion on Sandy’s shoulder. When he touched the magic lotion, he too, began to turn to stone. Too late, he recognized the girls, realized what had happened to them, and that it was now enveloping him too. As the change spread up his body, his clothing disappeared. In a very short time, the frozen Frank stood, one hand on Sandy’s breast, the other on his perpetually-erect prick.

Inside the house, Linda, Barbara and Callie stumbled across a room none of the other girls had been in yet, a giant playroom. It seemed like a delight for children of all ages; there were shelves and shelves filled with dolls, stuffed toys, games, puzzles, blocks, building sets....some of the toys were quite old, but others were almost new, still in their boxes. It looked at if most of the recent toys had never been played with.

Barbara and Linda soon zeroed in on a shelf that was filled with Barbies, Skippers, Kens, and even a couple of Midges. “Ooooh, look! Barbara squealed. “Neat,” Linda agreed.

“Can you believe all this stuff?” Barbara asked. “It’s like they’ve got every version of Barbie ever made in the past thirty years of something...”

Callie, who had been drawing on an Etch-A-Sketch, put it down and walked over to where her friends were. “We aren’t making much progress in finding Jenna, you know,” she said. But when she caught sight of the dolls, she seemed to fall under their spell, too. “Look at all these cute outfits,” she said, riffling through a pile of miniature clothing. “I did always envy Barbie for getting to wear all the best clothes.”

“Yeah, me too,” Barbara agreed. “I wished I was Barbie when I was little. You know, we even have the same first and last names. Barbie’s full name is supposed to be Barbara Millicent Roberts. I think when I was about nine, I asked my mother if I could change my middle name to Millicent.”

“Never mind!” Barbara said with a laugh, and both of her friends figured it had to be something truly embarrassing. They made mental notes to pursue it later. “Yeah, I guess I’ve always wished I could BE Barbie,” Barbara said.

“Me too,” both girls agreed. They then both gasped in sudden horror as a shimmering light began to glow around Barbara. She seemed to be frozen in place.

“Girls? What...what’s happening to me?” she asked with rising terror in her voice

“You...you seem to be shrinking!” Then, the glow enveloped the other two. “Oh God! It’s happening to us too!”

Down, down they went...five feet, four feet, three feet, two....and as they shrunk, their clothes remained full-sized, and they soon were stepping right out of them. Then they realized their skin was becoming plastic. Pivot points appeared, and they found they could still move. Mostly, they screamed; but Barbara realized what was happening and cried, “Oh, God! No! We really are turning into dolls!”

Callie pointed at her two friends...”Jesus...look at how tiny our waists are becoming, and how big our boobs are getting.” She reached for her groin area, now a solid expanse of plastic. “Our pussies.....they’re gone...and our hair.....we’re all getting so blonde!”

Linda said, “Don’t you see it? We’re not just becoming dolls! We’re turning into Barbies! You and your stupid wish, Barbara!”

Callie broke in, “I don’t know about you two, but I feel a real need to get dressed.” She reached for one of the doll outfits that had dropped to the floor and put it on. Barbara and Linda followed her lead. “Jesus!” Barbara cried. The changes hadn’t stopped; now, their feet were arching up into a permanently upright position, so that they would always have to wear miniature high heels. They slipped the tiny shoes over their feet.

The doll-sized girls found they could still walk, talk, and move. As they wandered about the room, they realized that it would take forever to get anyplace on their new, tiny legs. Jill and Ashley stumbled upon the game room at this exact moment, not realizing that the new Barbies had been three of their friends only moments before. The freshly transformed girls were all set to cry out for help, when they froze. It dawned on them that they could move and talk only as long as they were in each others’ presence. When “normal” people entered the room, they were doomed to be seen only as dolls.

“Jenna!” Jill called. “Are you in here? Did you get lost? Are you hiding from something?”

Jill spotted the three dolls on the floor. She picked them up, and noticed the rows of Barbies on the shelves. She noticed several empty display stands, and propped the three doll girls against those. “Wonder who left them on the floor?” she thought to herself.

Ashley, a tall brunette, opened a closet door, and found a life-sized metal wind-up doll staring back at her. “Oooh!” she exclaimed. “This is something, Jill. Look! It even looks kind of like me!”

Ashley turned the doll around, but instead of winding it up, pulled the giant key out of its back and handed it to her friend. “Wind me up, Jill!” she said with a girlish squeal.

“No....I know it’s nutty, but when I was a girl, I liked to play that I was a wind up toy.”

“Oh, all right,” she said with a sigh. “I’m only doing this because I’m sure nothing bad’s happened to Jenna...” As the key made contact with Ashley’s back something strange happened....it somehow sank into the flesh and made solid contact. She tried to pull it out, but she couldn’t. As that happened, Ashley froze.

“Ashley? Are you okay? Oh God, what’s happened?” As she looked at her friend, Jill realized a change was spreading over her body. Her flesh was turning to painted metal; she was becoming a wind-up doll. Within a couple of minutes, no one would have believed she had ever been flesh and blood. Her black hair was now yarn; her face appeared to have been painted on.

The Ashley doll remained motionless as Jill began to sob. She looked around her friend for some sign of life, then found herself staring at the key in her back. Of course! she thought, and began to wind it....

Soon, Jill heard a whirring sound that she realized was the mechanical gears inside her friend coming to life; the features that appeared static, now had animation. Ashley blinked a couple of times, then began to move, stiffly, precisely...mechanically. Her eyes, which had been expressionless, suddenly seemed to register the presence of someone; but she no longer recognized her friend.

She spoke, and it sort of sounded like Ashley’s voice, but tinny, and distant. “Hi! My name is Ashley! Would you like to play with me? What’s your name?”

Jill began to scream, and ran from the room; she careened down one hall, then another, then finally burst through a pair of doors that took her outdoors near the pool, where the three recently transformed statues stood. Jill found herself transfixed, somehow drawn to the stone figures that had, until a short time earlier, been Sandy, Karen, and her boyfriend Frank.

She thought how beautiful the female statues were, and how handsome the male was; and she couldn’t believe the size of his erect member! God, it must be close to a foot long. She suddenly lost all concern about Jenna, all concern about anything, except finding out what it would be like to have that massive stone prick inside her.

Almost before she knew what she was doing, Jill was stepping out of her mini-skirt and pulling up her panties so she could mount the statue and take the rigid dick doggy-style. As she mounted the structure, a bit of lotion remaining on Frank’s dick made contact with her pussy, and she, too began to harden.

Even as her legs started to become stone, Jill was riding Frank’s permanent erection to orgasm. As she glanced back over her shoulder, the frozen features finally registered in her brain for the first time; “Frank!” she screamed. As the wave of the orgasm broke over her, her transformation was quickly completed.

For almost three years now, Jill had been dreaming of the day that she and Frank would be together forever. Now it had arrived, though in a way she could have never imagined.

Back in the house, the search for Jenna --and the nightmarish transformations-- went on. Valerie finally stumbled onto the sewing room, where the needle had done its work on Jenna the night before. Unlike her friends, who just seemed to be wandering through the place half-blind, Valerie looked the naked mannequin square in the face and immediately knew who it was. She half-covered her mouth with a hand and let out a piercing scream.

Soon, she found herself in the toy room, face to face with the new wind-up doll. The doll’s expressionless face flickered momentarily as she registered the presence of someone in her field of vision. “Hi! My name is Ashley!

Would you like....to....play......with....me....” The words slowed and faded, and the doll’s motion’s became jerkier and halted completely as her gears wound down.

Valerie ran from the room too quickly to notice her other friends who were now Barbies, sitting motionless and silent in their display boxes.

Instead, she darted down the hall a short distance to the pool room, where she crashed straight into the wax statue that had been Carin. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. Then, she thought she was starting to lose touch with reality, as she began hearing a distance voice calling, “Val! Val! Valerie!” Valerie thought she must be going crazy, because it sounded like Vickie’s voice, yet she couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Vickie?” she said, the awful reality dawning on her. “Is that really you? Is this really Carin?”

“I wish I knew,” Valerie replied. Jenna’s been turned into a mannequin, Ashley’s a wind up doll, and I haven’t been able to find anyone else.”

“What was your uncle?” the girl in the painting asked. “Some kind of sick bastard?”

Suddenly, Valerie was aware of a shadow in the doorway, and the soft whirring of gears. “That...all depends. on your. point. of. view,” a tinny male voice responded. Valerie turned, and gazed in horror at a mechanical figure that looked like the pictures she had seen of her Uncle Wordsworth.

While this conversation was taking place, Lindsey, Sara, Carly, Maya and Kim were meeting their final fates at the far end of the house, in the gallery. The girls had been awed by all the paintings and statuary in the room; there were as many objects in here, it appeared, as in all the rest of the house combined -- and that was a considerable number. “Geez, this guy’s got his own museum here,” Carly said.

Near the middle of the room, they found four empty pedestals, apparently waiting for statues. Carly climbed atop one, and tried to strike a graceful pose. With her long legs, thin arms, and long, flowing platinum blonde hair, she did seem a bit like a sculptor’s dream. “Hey, look!” she called to the other girls, who quickly joined her on the other pedestals.

“What’s happening?” Carly cried. Each girl watched in terror as the others’ clothing disintegrated, and they began to change. Lindsey was becoming a statue of solid gold....it seemed to fit her honey blonde hair and light complexion.

She was, of course, horrified by what was happening to her, but she took small comfort in the fact that at least she was still whole; poor Sara’s arms and legs seemed to be sucked up inside of her, and then the same thing happened to her head, leaving only a perfect plaster torso sitting on the pedestal.

Carly’s transformation saw her become solid silver; again, the color seemed a perfect fit with her platinum hair. As for Kim, her change seemed more fitted to her personality that her looks. Kim was one of the most beautiful girls in the sorority, and one of the coldest. Even more than the others, she seemed to judge people by wealth, status and social standing. So perhaps it was fitting that she became a statue of cold, flawless marble.

Maya, who was in a far corner of the room, missed what had happened to her friends. She was totally enamored by an image of herself in the mirror. A tall, oriental beauty, with hair that hung halfway down her back, Maya was a beautiful woman, and she knew it.

There was something about the mirror image, though, that was exceptionally powerful. She couldn’t seem to break away from it. Finally, when she called to her friends and got no answer, she tried to take a step away from the mirror. It was then that the image in the mirror reached through the glass and pulled her into the looking-glass world, trapping her there forever.

Back in the billiards room, Valerie was trying to figure out what, or who, this strange mechanical man was who was advancing toward her. “Uncle?” she said,. “Is that you?”

“Yes dear...it’s me,” he said. “I’m sure you. were. wondering who. was behind all this....wonderful magic!”

The mechanical man shook his head from side to side. “Oh, you. poor. girl. Don’t you. realize the gift...I’m giving. all. of. you? Eternal youth...and beauty. None of you will ever....lose your good looks. You’ll all be with me here. forever.”

“What are you?” Val, now backed into a corner, asked. “You’re not human!” She looked desperately for some kind of tool or weapon to stop the mechanical man advancing on her, but her efforts proved fruitless. Soon, her metal uncle was wrapping her wrists and ankles with ropes. Then he picked her up and tossed her over her shoulder, as casually as if he was picking up a small sack of groceries.

“No. I guess I’m not. human. now. I would be long dead, had I stayed human. I found a way to cheat. death. by transferring my consciousness...into this mechanical form. Unlike your friend, this body is. self-winding..self maintaining..will never run down.” He was carrying the bound girl through the same halls back toward the sewing room. He dropped her into a chair.

“I did. some research. on you girls,” the mechanical man said. “I know you. and. Jenna are best. friends. So I think it’s right. That you two. stay together here. forever.” He picked up the needle that had been responsible for Jenna’s transformation and began advancing toward his niece.

The Hardening

Produced by Magnus

Story by Heather St. Claire