CHAPTER 7Though sleep was challenging, Jeff managed to doze, but the dreams that followed seared his subconscious like a fire poker. In one, the dead fly in his vomit came to life and buzzed from the wastebasket, landing on his lips. He tried to blow it away, to spit it out when it crept down his throat, but the insect forced itself into his stomach where he could feel its vibrating hums as it laid batches of eggs. His gut grew heavy and bloated, swelling to twice its normal size as hundreds of maggots burst forth, eating their way out from the inside. He fought to scream, but larvae filled his lungs, suffocating him. Then he was upright in bed, disoriented, panicked. After blinking crust from his eyes, his surroundings became clear, and he was grateful he’d forgotten to turn off his alarm though it was the weekend. It was just a nightmare. Calm down, everything will be okay. He silenced the beeping and threw back the covers, disappointed to find yesterday’s transformation was
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