“Steve, let's leave!” urged Janet in the squeaky, high-pitched voice of a young boy.
“B-B-But, look at me!” stuttered Steve, still gasping for breath from the tightly constricting corset he now wore. “I... I... I'm...”
“I know,” snapped Janet. “And do you want it to get worse?”
“N-N-No...” wheezed Steve in a quiet whisper. “Let's go.”
That was the only signal the family needed. In quick succession, the Donaldsons practically tripped over one another making a mad rush out the door.
In the darkness behind them, a hollow, echoing voice laughed madly.
“We'll spend the night in the car, kids!” urged Janet. “Now, get off the porch, get out of the yard, and in the morning we'll drive as far away from this haunted place as we can!”
They all scampered away from the House of Doom and back to the highway. Moving awkwardly in their new bodies, the frightened family piled back into the car and spent a fitful, sleepless night with the car doors locked and everyone staring intently into the darkened countryside watching nervously for the slightest hint of movement.
Nothing happened, and finally the dawn arrived.
Each of the Donaldsons looked themselves over in the early morning light, half-expecting their strange transformations to disappear like some bad dream. But their new bodies (and Steve's new clothes) remained firmly in place.
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