Hellstar Sweatpants
Hellstar Sweatpants
Blog Article
Mara didn’t know what compelled her to enter the thrift shop. She wasn’t usually the type to go digging through piles of secondhand clothes, but something about the place called to her. The shop sat on the edge of town, tucked between a dilapidated gas station and a boarded-up video rental store. Its hand-painted sign read Second Chances, but the flickering neon below it spelled out a more ominous phrase:
Hellstar Specials.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of mothballs and dust. The shopkeeper, an old woman with a stooped back and piercing gray eyes, barely glanced at Mara as she stepped in. She waved toward the back of the shop without a word, as though she knew what Mara was looking for.Mara wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She only knew she felt... drawn. Past the racks of faded jackets and scuffed shoes, she found them: a pair of black sweatpants. They hung on a mannequin Hellstar though the rest of the display was oddly empty. The fabric shimmered faintly under the dim fluorescent lights, as if it had been threaded with tiny stars. Along the sides, jagged red lines zigzagged down like lightning bolts.She reached out, and the moment her fingers touched the fabric, a warmth spread through her hand. They felt impossibly soft, lighter than air yet oddly heavy with presence.
Without thinking Mara took them to the counter.
The woman’s thin lips twitched into something resembling a smile. “Oh, they’ll cost you. Not in dollars, though. You’ll find out soon enough.Before Mara could ask what she meant, the woman rang her up, stuffed the sweatpants into a paper bag, and turned her attention to the next customerAt home, Mara couldn’t resist trying them on. They fit perfectly, snug and warm, like they were made just for her. Sh,marveling at how comfortable they were. The red streaks along the sides pulsed faintly, though she chalked it up to the dim light in her living roomThe first sign that something was unusual came that night. Mara woke to find herself standing in the middle of her kitchen, the sweatpants still on. The fridge was open, its light casting long shadows across the room. Her hands clutched a carton of orange juice,
though she had no memory of getting up.
But the strange occurrences didn’t stop. Over the next week, Mara noticed changes. She felt stronger, faster, more agile. Her morning runs, which used to leave her winded, now felt effortless. At work, her coworkers stared as she breezed through tasks that had taken hours before. Even her boss, who never gave anyone more than a grumble, praised her efficiencStill, there were... oddities. She’d find Hellstar Sweatpants standing in strange places—an alley downtown, the rooftop of her apartment building—without remembering how she got there. Her dreams were vivid, filled with images of swirling galaxies and a red star pulsing in the voidOne night, Mara woke to a voice whispering her name. She bolted upright, her heart pounding. The room was dark, but the sweatpants glowed faintly,
their red streaks brighter than ever.
“Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice tremblingThe answer came not in words but in a wave of understanding that washed over her mind. The sweatpants weren’t just clothing—they were alive, connected to something vast and ancient. And it wanted something from herMara tried to stop wearing them. She stuffed them into the back of her closet, determined to go back to her old, boring life. But the pull was too strong. She found herself slipping them on without realizing it, their comforting warmth impossible to resistAs the weeks went on, the whispers grew louder, filling her mind with cryptic messages. “Run toward the light.” “Seek the Hellstar.” “Feed the hunger.”
And then came the night it all changed.
Mara was jogging through the park when she felt it: a sudden, overwhelming urge to run faster. Her legs moved on their own, propelling her forward at an impossible speed. Trees blurred past her, the world dissolving into streaks of color. She burst into an open clearing, where a strange light bathed the ground in crimsonHovering above her was the HellstarIt was massive, its pulsing glow eclipsing the night sky. Mara’s knees buckled as a voice filled her head, deep and resonant, speaking in a language she shouldn’t have understood but somehow did.ou are my vessel. You will carry my power, my will, into your world.”
No Mara whispered shaking her head
The sweatpants tightened around her legs, their glow intensifying. Energy surged through her, and for a moment, she felt invincible. She could see every star in the sky, hear the rustle of leaves miles away, feel the heartbeat of the earth beneath her feetBut with the power came the hunger. The Hellstar Clothing demanded more—more energy, more ambition, more life. And Mara realized with a sinking dread that it wouldn’t stop until it consumed everythingShe returned to the thrift shop, desperate for answers. But Second Chances was gone, replaced by an empty lot. The sweatpants clung to her, their warmth now suffocating. The whispers in her mind grew louder, urging her to embrace her role as the Hellstar’s herald.Mara knew she couldn’t keep running.Thesweatpants had chosen her, and now, she had a choice of her own: wield the power and risk losing herself, or find a way to break free before the Hellstar devoured her completely.