The Witch's Revenge

Chapter 4
Epilogue: Forever Bound

Epilogue: Forever Bound

Years passed, but inside the daycare, time seemed to stand still. The building had changed hands several times, but it still served the same purpose, welcoming new children every day. Some things, however, had never changed.

In the far corner of the playroom, in a section designated for the youngest babies, a small girl with wide, innocent eyes sat amidst a pile of soft toys. She giggled, babbling to herself, her chubby fingers grasping at a rattle, shaking it with simple delight. Her face was cherubic, her curls golden, her eyes bright with a perpetual, childlike wonder.

Todd had not aged a day since that night.

Years had come and gone, but he remained trapped in the body of an infant, his body unchanged, his mind a delicate, fragile thing. At first, he had fought against the realization, the truth of his predicament, but slowly — inevitably — his thoughts grew simpler, his memories of his past life faded, replaced by the rhythm of his new reality. A diaper to be changed, a bottle to drink from, a crib to sleep in.

His days were filled with the laughter of other children, the soothing hum of lullabies, and the smell of powder and milk. He no longer remembered what it felt like to walk, to speak in full sentences, or to think complex thoughts. The constant care and routine had worn away his resistance, leaving only the shell of what had once been a man.

Elara’s daughter, now older but still a toddler herself, played beside him, and he saw her not as his captor’s child, but as his constant companion, his best friend. His days were happy in their way, his giggles innocent and carefree, his mind unaware of the horror of his fate.

Across the room, in the changing area, sat the diaper pail that had once been Hannah. The same pail, unchanged in appearance, but within, something dark and twisted festered. Hannah’s mind had not dissolved as quickly as Todd’s. The torment of her existence had sharpened with each passing year.

At first, she had fought it, the sickening reality of what she had become, but over time, something within her broke. The smell, the weight, the sensation of each diaper landing inside her hollow form had been torture. Yet, as days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years, a strange, horrible hunger grew within her.

She began to crave it.

Every soiled diaper tossed inside her was no longer a torment, but a twisted comfort. She would wait, counting the minutes, longing for the lid to open, desperate to feel the drop, to hear the muffled thud, to embrace the heavy, disgusting weight. She needed it, craved it. It was her only sensation, her only connection to the outside world. The stench that had once repulsed her now brought a sick, obsessive satisfaction.

Elara visited often. Though she had aged, her magic kept her youthful. She watched Todd play with her daughter, watched him smile with vacant, glassy eyes, and she laughed. Her revenge had been sweet, but the true delight was watching them adapt, watching them slowly become comfortable in their new forms.

She approached the diaper pail, running a hand over its surface, feeling the vibrations of Hannah’s consciousness trapped within. “Oh, you poor, hungry thing,” she cooed mockingly. “Still yearning for your next meal, are you?”

Hannah felt a surge of anticipation, a feverish longing within her hollow body. She could not speak, could not cry out, but she felt it — the eager, desperate hunger for the diapers she had once so despised.

Elara smiled and turned away, her laughter a soft, cruel melody that filled the room. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, almost lovingly. “There will always be more for you… always.”

She walked away, leaving the two cursed souls to their eternal fates — one a helpless infant forever trapped in a daycare, his mind having surrendered to the simplicity of his new existence, and the other, a sentient diaper pail, consumed by a dark obsession she could never escape.

Their torment was eternal, their suffering a slow, unending cycle. Elara had long since moved on, her vengeance satisfied, but she knew that here, in this daycare, her magic still lingered, and it always would.

The witch’s revenge was a legacy — a curse that lived on, feeding on the misery and the madness of those who dared to mistreat her child.

And it would last forever.