Alex, I hope this letter will reach you. I've become aware lately of someone intercepting my personal correspondences. I have my suspicions (I'm sure they are the same as yours) as to who is behind these contemptible acts. Included below is the anecdotal evidence you were asking me for, I hope it helps with your investigation...
The Australian shook his head. "This is fucking ridiculous, they told us 10:30 and it's gone 11. We're not being paid to wait around are we?" The other two men mumbled non-committal responses. We were all sat in the waiting room of what was soon to be a cutting edge medical research center, not yet in operation. Our mystery client had already paid us, but no one there knew yet who our client was or what we were being paid for. I decided to break the ice. "Are you all pathologists?"
The irritated Australian told us he was a free-lance veterinarian who’d worked for several prominent zoos, specializing in large mammals. Another, a squat, balding, bookish type, was a cardiologist, apparently the best in the state. The final man said he was a gastroenterologist, again renowned. Whoever hired us was only looking for the best. Another 20 minutes passed until the bored silence was punctuated by the lobby door opening. Instinctively we all stood to see who had entered, eager to meet our enigmatic employer. The silver haired man owned the room with his confidence. He stood at 6’6” tall, his face hidden behind a pair of aviators. I could tell under his formal business suit was an Adonis form of impeccable physical ascendancy. "Gentlemen," he smiled, "sorry about the wait, we had a bit of trouble transporting our... cargo." The Aussie vet confronted him, still angry about having been kept waiting. "So you're our client?" "I represent your client. I'm working with you today on behalf of Nitidus. They're the, for lack of a better term, association responsible for hiring you." The stomach doctor, the oldest amongst us, propped his descending spectacles back up the bridge of his cauliflower nose and raised a finger to address the silver haired emissary. "Excuse me, but who exactly is Nitidus?" The client observed him for a moment with a calculating coldness. "You needn't worry." We scrubbed up and then were led into a large metallic room, to my shock it was an operating theater the size of an aircraft hangar. There were tables set about with all manners of medical equipment, pieces I was familiar with and some I'd never seen before. The emissary spoke into his phone. "They're ready, bring the Nitida through." A monstrous motorized roar filled the room like the beating heart engine of a mechanical colossus. The furthest wall slowly crawled up into the ceiling, revealing itself as a truck dock. The natural light burst through, reflecting painfully off the highly polished walls and equipment and filling the room with a blinding field effulgence. Silhouetted against the intruding sunlight was a team of men, dressed similarly to the agent, maneuvering in what looked like a small hill. It was hidden beneath a parachute-sized medical sheet, large rubber wheels visible beneath. My first impression was we would be operating on an elephant. The men who had brought the mysterious delivery left. The emissary stepped forward. "Gentlemen, prepare yourselves mentally. What you are about to see is unlike any specimen you’ve encountered before." Between us we had seen people die, we had seen disease and injury and mutation. We had each been elbow deep in guts, covered in blood and excrement most days at our jobs. I didn't think there was anything he could warn us against. He pulled the sheet away. I was wrong. I took a moment to contemplate what was in front of me. Like a sudden flash of light my eyes were adjusting, accounting for the sight before me so my head could make sense of what we were seeing.
There, on the gurney, was the body of the most impossibly obese woman. The size of her was phenomenal. Unaccountable. Her domineering stomach was at least 18 feet long and at its widest point must have been 15 feet in diameter. It arched upwards like a pink wave, cresting 10 feet at its zenith. The stomach arched back downwards, flopping off the end of the gurney and resting on the floor gently like a giant dead tongue. Her sides spilled abundantly like flesh toned waterfalls, oozing outwards from the epicenter of her fat form that may one day have resembled a human being. Her sides harbored countless overlapping rolls, each the width of tree trunks, until eventually her stomach became so stretched that her skin was perfectly smooth. Her breasts clung to the side of her massive paunch, they themselves stretched 5 feet, snaking away from her chest and ballooning up to the size of sea mines. Her arms were only just discernible, starting off massively wide, riddled with fat at her shoulders and telescoping down in truck-tire segments to where her hands would be were they not hidden beneath overflowing mittens of flab. There was so much fat on her shoulders her face was buried up to her ears. Her face was bunched in by her globe like cheeks forcing her already snoutish nose to point daintily upwards. Her dead eyes were closed but her hair was surprisingly well maintained and a long curly auburn red. The stench was overpowering, emanating I'm sure from what was once her breath as well as her anus. It somehow engulfed the entire room and filled it with the air of her now extinct hedonism. "Holy shit!!" the vet exclaimed "What the fuck is that?" The agent gazed at the impossible creature as if it were a thing of great beauty, enthralled by the titanic woman who had encapsulated all our incredulity. "Her name was Courtney Tubbs, she was 19-years-old. She is the reason we're here." The stuffy old gastroenterologist, who had spent his life looking up people's anuses, was stood with his back to the dead woman, retching. I told the agent it had to be a hoax, a piece of body art, her corpse must have been manipulated somehow post death. He ignored me and continued. "We, or rather you, are going to be performing an autopsy. Between the four of you you're more than qualified." I noticed that as he spoke his hands were unconsciously caressing the naked pink skin of the dead girl. "This is ludicrous" the heart doctor scoffed, "it's obvious she died from her obesity, severe morbid obesity." Personally, I thought the cause of death could be attributed to asphyxiation due to an aspirated bolus of food such as an entire cake sucked into her bronchus, lodging itself at her Carina. "We're not concerned with how she died, more so with how she lived this long. You see, Ms. Tubbs here weighed 11,438lbs when she passed on, she had a 94% BMI, that far outdoes any official record." None of us was willing to believe it. The heart doctor seemed to be taking this particularly personally. "Impossible. No human being could ever reach this weight. The largest human on record was approximately 1,400lbs. My colleague is correct, no one could weigh this much and live this long." Suddenly we all jumped, except the emissary. We were startled by an excessive nebula of rectal gas escaping the dead girl. "I fear we've found something beyond the realm of your expertise, Doctor." He began to slowly pace around us and the body (it took him a couple of minutes to complete a lap given the size of her.) "Surely one of you has heard the rumors, whispers in the medical field. Urban myths of women who eat and eat to extraordinary sizes, domestic goddesses of impossible girth. Instead of dying they just grow beyond immobility, beyond amendment, beyond humanity. They dwarf those around them. They become encumbered in their own expanding bodies. Unfortunately, not every woman with their appetite survives and I'm sure not every woman with their exceptional growing abilities has their appetite. Of course most of them are shrugged off as internet rumors, hoaxes, impossibilities, but these women exist and you can find them if you know where to look. Legends abound, the business tycoon's wife who ate her husband's conglomerate into bankruptcy, the European princess who indulged until she brought famine to her country." It seemed like nonsense at the time, but since then I have uncovered rumors similar to what he was saying. A colleague has shared with me a conspiracy theory known as the "hidden state theory." Apparently the government hid away a giant woman in an unmapped research environment beyond the public's knowledge. This woman was utterly insatiable, decimating farmlands and food businesses, she ate so much she was a threat to the economy and the government's only option was to cover up her existence and perform research on her. The program was supposedly called "Operation Holly." The emissary continued. "There has to be something that gives these women their amazing growing abilities. If you'll observe gentlemen, the deceased's skin." We looked. I was the only one to notice the significance of how unremarkable it was. The emissary inferred from my expression that I understood and asked me to explain. "Upon reaching approximately 200lbs striae, or stretch marks as they're more commonly known, should develop. Evidently the subject's skin is smooth. At larger weights Acanthosis Nigricans will begin to form, a collective of blackened skin pigmentation around the assembled areas of fat. This also has not occurred. A woman this size should be rife for other conditions such as cellulitis, intetrigo and lymphedema, though every inch of her skin appears to be smooth and normal, though with obvious exceptional elasticity." "Brilliant" the emissary grinned, "You exceed your reputations as the best. But enough talk, we need you to look inside this woman for anything else exceptional about her anatomy, that is what you have been paid so affluently for. Please, make sure you return her to her current condition afterwards, the family are in mourning and will want the body returned to presentable condition before burial." We set to work. For the next 15 hours the emissary stood back and watched while a petite assistant woman took notes. We were given all the provisions we required as well as a gaggle of nurses to assist. We elected to start with the heart. Conscious that the subject was to be restored to her current condition the cardiologist proposed a laparoscopic observation in order to be as minimally invasive as possible. Of course, it took him about an hour and a half and some very specialized equipment to confirm where this girl's heart would be under all the blubber, but eventually he located it. "Amazing, her heart is amazing." We were all excited to hear what he had discovered, the emissary perked up. "What is it? What have you found?" "Nothing!" the cardiologist responded, "Nothing is wrong with her heart at all. It looks healthier than anyone I've ever had in my surgery. At this size her heart should resemble little more than a mangled passion fruit covered in tar, but it's in perfect condition, other than it isn't beating of course. Why, I'd say it probably looks better even than my own!" He explained to us that a heart responsible for a body this size should have been afflicted with congestive failure, ischemic heart disease, angina, coronary artery disease and myocardial infarction. Not to mention enough cholesterol to clog a toilet. There was no hint of any of that! We carried on. The vet was actually extremely helpful. It was a testimony to our client's perspicacity that we had an expert on large mammals. He showed us the best methods and areas to dissect the subject, the most efficient way to saw through the skin, how to apply pressure so the release of escaping gas wouldn't catch us off guard as well as how to minimize the amount of blood inevitably lost upon incision. Without him we probably wouldn't have been able to so efficiently get inside the deceased and there most certainly would have been a greater mess in restoring her afterwards. He and the gastroenterologist consulted on the best way to access the gut. The emissary seemed particularly interested in that. We got inside and before we had even looked its contents knocked us back. The smell rushed out like a burning swarm of hot sewage. We could smell the remnants of whatever meal she was eating last. I could smell beef and chocolate, grease, melted cheese and fish. The vet said he could smell steak, BBQ sauce, baking soda, liver (though that could have been hers) lasagna and deep fried Twinkies. Between us we could smell a kaleidoscopic menu of semi digested dinners. Looking inside was even worse. The masticated mess that awaited us (we watched via the endoscope) resembled an obscene blended clay. Her stomach, which by the way had stretched out to at least 18 times the average size of a normal human stomach, was still slowly reflexively gurgling (the stomach being one of the last organs to lose function after death). It was almost full with that masticated paste and we could even recognize a lot of the contents too, clearly this girl didn't chew her food. Most of the stuff was still identifiable, like when they kill a shark and find old shoes and license plates inside. I even saw what I thought was a wedding ring at one point! That would have been ridiculous though... There were no signs of ulcers, weakened mucosae, any reflux whatsoever, no ruptured walls and no hernias as would be expected. We stitched her stomach up and moved on. I was amazed. During this whole procedure we still hadn't found anything remotely remarkable about this woman, other than everything about her was in complete working order. Finally, after 19-hours of work, we moved on to the anus. This was also the gastroenterologist's responsibility, but we all worked together to maneuver a motor powered winch under the subject's stomach so a hydraulic crane could do all the lifting. The stench and heat that emanated from this woman's nether regions were remarkable. Nevertheless he ventured in, under the hanging sword of Damocles that was the precariously cradled 10,000lbs of pannus above him and went to work examining her. "She has good anal tone" he informed us, "no appreciable masses, no palpable pathologies, the whole thing seems to have widened considerably like her pannus, presumably to accommodate the continuous passing of feces. It's very difficult to conduct rectal examination considering her anus is so tightly packed with stool." He continued to feel around inside her, the little assistant constantly writing down everything he said. "There's almost no squeeze pressure. If I didn't know better I'd say this woman has never had control of her bowels, or they've been employed so scarcely they've begun to atrophy, either way I'd say this woman was completely incontinent, defecating constantly." He crawled out from her cavernous crotch and disposed of his gloves before washing his hands. The stomach was lowered back down and the girl laid there in the same condition she had come to us in. The emissary seemed pleased with our work. "So gentlemen, what are your impressions?" We looked towards each other as if none of us wanted to deliver the news. In truth, we had nothing to report. "Well, it seems as if this woman's body was perfectly adapted to her weight. All her vital organs are in their correct positions and apparently unaffected by her diet. What we had here was an exceptionally healthy woman who just happened to be 11,000lbs overweight." He seemed pleased with this and reiterated the information to his assistant, insisting she make note of how the body simply adapted to its weight. He thanked us all for our time and asked we never mention this to any of our colleagues before leading us towards the exit where he said we'd be escorted home. That's when I realized. Something was very wrong with all of this and it had been staring us in the face. "Excuse me" I addressed the emissary, halting our little parade to the door "but, haven't you noticed? This woman was perfectly healthy, she was completely unaffected by her overwhelming fat, her heart was working steadily and her breathing was normal." "Yes, we have everything recorded and my colleagues will thoroughly review all you've discovered for us, thank you for your time". "No, I mean... well... if she was so healthy, and so young..." The others started to understand, how could we have been so stupid? "...then... what killed her?" Horror fell across everyone's faces. The emissary turned to his assistant, frantically screaming technical demands, the nurses all ran to positions, pandemonium took control. From the dead girl, another arrogant gust of flatulence exploded. The agent shouted into his wristwatch. "Code 5!! Code 5!! We are undergoing vital sign analysis immediately!" The nurses and assistants (more had run into the room at that point) were attaching medical equipment to the girl's wrists and neck and chest, tucking them under the wobbling rolls of flab. The screen on the wall currently showed an unyielding flat line. We waited… Waited… Waited… And then... A heartbeat, very slow but consistent. They all started running around again, preparing tubes and placing them in her mouth. The four of us were forgotten by the door, the whole place was like an Emergency Room at the end of the world. The emissary was shouting into his wrist watch again. "Code Black!! Code Black!! Candidate 23 is living, repeat, candidate 23 is living!! Suspected food induced torpid state, heartbeat of .5 per minute but increasing. Send blue section immediately!!" We watched this all unfurl. I could see the eyes of the undead girl flutter open and her mouth move rhythmically in an unmistakable chewing fashion. The heart-monitor started to beep quicker. As the comparatively tiny people around her hurried like displaced ants she slowly came to life--
“FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!!!!!!”
She roared and screamed and swore, demanding to be fed. I don't know if she was aware of where she was or if this was just her typical routine to vulgarly demand food as soon as she wakes up. " Inform the family! Bring Candidate 23 to recovery!!!" Before we could witness any more a group of five or six scrubbed up masked men herded us out the main doors, the distant hungry screams of that girl still echoing behind us until we were well out of the building.... So, that's what happened. I can't give you any more information I'm afraid. I still don't know who our client really was, every search for more information on the emissary or Nitidus yields nothing. I will continue looking into these cases of hyper-obesity, though if the rumors coming out of Canada are true we may not have to wait long. Are there really women of that size, maybe even bigger, all across the world? And what does Nitidus want with them? I'm sure you'll figure it out, you're a smart young man with a bright future ahead of you. Good luck. God help you. Dr. D. Fenheld