I did not recall volunteering, but that night I found myself some twelve miles east, in the woods in sight of the orderly camp of this small jaeger company that had been raising hell, about thirty men we believed. I spent some time looking at the tents, one after the other, until I found one with a guard standing in front and some men coming and going pretty regularly.I had already spotted the outpost guards, and I waited until just after they changed, around sunset, to make my move. I tossed a big stone over the nearest soldier's head, and when he looked where it landed, I stepped in behind him, yanked his chin up and cut his throat. Still using Magda's knife, I slit open the back of the tent where I hoped to find the women. I had guessed wrong, it was the officer's place with a table and lamp and two men who looked very surprised when I stuck my head inside. After that it got a little noisy as I ran back into the woods and climbed a tree, happy my horse and heavy weapons were a mile. Her coworkers gave her a nod in acknowledgement, but gone were the admiring glances that she was used to, rather she received stares of indifference or mild disgust. No longer were the men opening the door for her. No whistles. She was an anonymous blob of a person. At least she was still a VP. She wobbled to her office and settled into her chair as she hit her full and final weight. The chair remolded around her body into one with heavy duty support in order not to collapse, yet it still creaked dangerously.As Jocelyn drove to the office, she could literally feel fat leaving her body. She was initially worried that her clothes wouldn’t fit, but after parking, she stepped out of the car and looked at herself in the side mirror. As far as she could tell, her clothes kept shrinking to fit. More importantly, they were very nice clothes. Jocelyn had never been able to wear designer clothes before. The demon had thought of everything. Feeling a bit unbalanced, she looked down, and gasped.
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