House Hoard

Vernon had accepted that his house was magic. He never had considered that a possibility when he'd moved in, happy to have found a place for retirement. It was a location that had been foreclosed, sold to him cheaply after being cleaned up from the previous tenant. Vernon had learned the former owner was some hoarder, something he paid no mind to. That seemed to have been the mistake.

Boxes had started showing up since he'd arrived, appearing on his doorstep. He thought it was a mistake at first, deciding to keep them in case someone would show up for them. He felt helpless as more and more showed up though, to the point he went to the neighbors asking if they knew anything about it. They shrugged no, suggesting him to get a doorcam to see who was dropping them off.

The camera was no help. It wasn't catching anything besides the moments Vernon walked outside to find the packages there. Was this some sort of joke? A prank on the new homeowner? Vernon had finally had enough. His entryway was getting too crowded, and there was no way he'd let himself become a deposit, deciding to open them and decide what to do with their contents.

The moment he opened the first box, a new worry grasped his mind. As he looked through the items, he realized each one had been something he'd already bought for his house. The pans he'd wanted for cooking. The towels he'd wanted for his bathrooms. As he started going through more however, things got stranger. There were things he'd only considered buying, but never made the purchase. Trinkets and luxuries he didn't want to spend money for. It even extended to old groceries that had been appearing in the boxes as well, including cakes and sweets he'd barely glanced at.

Vernon had never believed in magic, but just for a second, he considered it. What other explanation was there without sounding like a conspiracist?

As he looked at the rotting food and excess items he needed to throw away, he realized the amount of garbage bags he'd needed. In that moment a thought quickly occurred to him. If the boxes had all the stuff he'd bought previously, wouldn't there be one that had them? The bright idea was suddenly dampened as he looked over the amount of packages in his foyer. There was no way he was going to open all of them to find what he was looking for. If anything he needed a bin too.

Vernon decided to go to the store to grab what he needed, opening the door to find another set of boxes on his porch. He was about to just move them in and ignore them when he realized their shape and size. He was immediately curious, opening the boxes to see if his suspicions were correct. Inside were the bins and bags he'd needed.

Vernon tried not to think about how crazy the situation was as he brought them inside, how by magic he suddenly had exactly what he needed. He started going through all the boxes to remove the food that had gone bad, beginning to spiral into his thoughts. Was this really going on? Would anyone believe him? If he started selling the items, would people get suspicious? What if they were stolen somehow? Could he donate, or would that raise eyes as well?

By the time Vernon finished, there was a significant stack of junk food and snacks he'd been tempted by before, sitting right in his house. As Vernon stood there before his bounty, a new thought started to dawn on him. Was it really that bad to be getting a bunch of free stuff? As long as he kept it to himself, what did it matter? He absentmindedly grabbed one of the boxes, taking it to the living room to mull over the matter. He didn't come to a decision that night, letting it slip his mind for later.

Vernon began to think less and less about the boxes, growing used to their sudden materialization on his porch. It became a habit of bringing them in, opening them to find the exact things he'd needed or considered getting. He became so used to it he stopped caring, never spending another second of worry on them. He didn't even notice more and more of his space filled up by the surplus.

Vernon began spending more and more time inside the house, only ever needing to take a single step out the door to grab the packages. He never needed to head to the store again, groceries continuously popping up, meals he could immediately head back to the couch and eat. Anything he wanted would just appear there, nothing more than a passing thought to summon it.

Vernon's lack of activity soon appeared on his waist, his stomach growing into another mainstay of the house. Vernon never considered how the amount of food he got increased with his appetite, each meal more filling than the last. His torso quickly expanded, a thickening monument that cemented its place in the rubbage. Soon he was just a large round mass, a heavy body made to consume non-stop.

Vernon never considered it a problem as he grew out of his clothes, his shirts unable to fit around him. If he ever needed them again, he was sure they'd just appear on his doorstep. Not that he ever went out. It was easier just to sit in his luxury, stuffing himself silly, remaining in his dragon's den happy to accept whatever would appear.

By the time a year had gone by, he had completely settled down, the house looking just like the previous hoarders. His weight had doubled, not that it was seen, his life sedentary as just a fat brick of lard.  He was happy just being there in his place, never needing to think about what he'd need or worry again.