A Who Done It

Chapter Description: Process Revealed

The three of them stood frozen, the weight of what they’d found settling like lead in the air.

“Why is this happening?” Sarah whispered, voice thin.

No one answered.

Dean turned to Katy, his tone tight. “He’s still secure, right?”

Katy blinked. “Who—Daniel?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, jaw set. “We locked him up. He’s still in there?”

Katy hesitated. “…I checked the pantry on my way back. The door was shut.”

“But shut doesn’t mean locked,” Dean pressed. “You didn’t check?”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Katy said defensively. “You said the lock clicked.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “We thought it did.”

Sarah’s face had gone pale. “Did you even knock?”

Katy’s stomach sank. “…No.”

“So it could be empty,” Dean said grimly.

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, if he was innocent,” Sarah said softly, “he’d answer if we knocked…”

Dean shook his head. “Only one way to know. Let’s go.”

They hurried back toward the kitchen, tension buzzing sharp and electric in the air.
The warm smell of herbs still lingered faintly as they pushed through the door, and stopped.

Baby Jessica lay on the kitchen tiles, her bottle tipped over and milk beading on the stone. She gurgled softly, blank blue eyes blinking as her tiny legs wiggled, her bum shifting with each twitch. A thin trail of drool slid from the corner of her mouth, glistening as it fell to the floor

“Oh my god…” Sarah breathed. “Flo did this?”

“I… I think so,” Katy said. “She swapped tasks with her at the last second.”

“Shit,” Dean muttered, stalking to the pantry. He crouched and tugged the latch.
It didn’t move. No keys anywhere.

Sarah stepped forward, knuckles rapping hard against the heavy wood.
“Daniel! Are you in there? …Hello?”

Silence.

Dean’s face hardened. “If he was innocent, he’d answer.”

Sarah banged harder. “DANIEL! Answer me!”

Nothing.

Dean’s face hardened. He strode across the kitchen, yanked a heavy frying pan from the stove, and gripped it tight by the handle.

“Stand back,” he muttered.

Sarah and Katy backed away as Dean swung the pan, slamming the broad, heavy base against the pantry’s lock. The clang of metal on wood rang out, sharp and jarring. He struck again, harder, the door handle rattling in its socket.

Wood splintered around the strike plate. Dean gritted his teeth and hammered the lock until the latch gave with a sharp crack. The pantry door jolted open an inch, then creaked as he shoved it wide.

Inside, the pantry was pitch-dark and still. A faint smell of dried herbs and flour drifted out. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with neat rows of jars, tins, and glass bottles that caught the dim light. A wicker basket sagged under the weight of onions and potatoes, while sacks of flour and sugar slouched against the far corner. Dust hung in the air, stirred by the sudden draft.

But no Daniel.

The small room was utterly empty.

Dean’s shoulders slumped, the frying pan still loose in his grip. “He’s not here,” he muttered grimly.

Sarah Frustrated stepped away from the door to compose herself then spotted one of Izabella’s discarded tea towels and quickly wrapped it around Jessica’s tiny form. The baby cooed softly, blinking up at her as Katy scooped her up and rested her against her shoulder, rubbing her small back in gentle circles.

“Shhh… shhh… we’ll fix this,” Sarah murmured, her voice wavering. She looked to the others. “Let’s go confront Flo. Where is she?”

“Somewhere in the west wing,” Katy said. “I think she went to Carlos’s room.”

“Okay.” Sarah turned to Dean. “Think you can use that device?”

“Uh… maybe?” Dean said, glancing down at the sleek black remote clutched in his hands. “Should I… test it?”

Sarah froze, then her eyes lit up. “Oh my god. We can use it on Jessica. Age her back up!”

Dean blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yes!” Sarah said, already moving. She laid Jessica gently on the counter, making sure the tea towel stayed wrapped around her. “If we bring her back, she can tell us what happened.”

Dean exhaled and stepped closer, raising the device. “Alright… stand back.”

He gripped it in both hands like it might kick, aiming at the gurgling infant. “I’m not really sure how this thing works. It looks straightforward—default mode, a timer, and an age setting. How old was she again?”

“Who cares,” Sarah said. “Just make her twenty-one so she can talk.”

“Jeez… alright.” Dean pressed the button.

And… nothing happened.

“…Is she getting older?” Katy asked.

Dean squinted at Jessica. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Here, give me that,” Sarah said, snatching the device from him. She turned it over, frowning. “Uhh… let’s see…”

She aimed it at Jessica and pressed the trigger.

Still nothing.

“See?” Dean said, frustrated. “She’s just not aging.”

“Maybe there’s some setting,” Katy suggested. “Like… time intervals or something?”

Sarah glanced at the screen. “It does have a timer… says it can go from 1 to 9999.”

Dean blinked. “Is that years?”

“Well, it can be,” Sarah said. “You can also change it to seconds, hours, or days.”

“Jesus,” Katy muttered. “Imagine being a baby for nine hundred years.”

Dean grimaced. “No thank you. Not even for a minute.”

The three of them fell silent, the weight of what that meant pressing down. If the device really worked like that, then whoever held it had terrifying control over time itself.

“Wait—no,” Katy said quickly, her voice cracking. “It can’t be Flo. She couldn’t have gotten the other device. There was no opportunity…”

Jessica babbled softly on the counter, breaking their attention. the tea towel draped clumsily across her plump little body. Her tiny fists slapped at the wood, drool trailing from her lips as though nothing at all was wrong. The half-empty baby bottle lay on the kitchen floor. Milk dripping from the teat

The group stared, tense and unsure if even the device in Dean’s hands could help. Katy’s eyes flicked from the glowing screen to Jessica’s vacant smile—and then to the doorway.

Flo stood there, flushed and breathless.
“Guys—guys—” she gasped.

“Hold it right there,” Dean snapped, raising the device and pointing it straight at her. “No sudden movements.”

Flo froze, hands twitching at her sides. “What? Slow down! I’m not the one doing this!”

“Then why,” Katy shot back, her voice sharp, “is Jessica a baby now? Convenient, considering you switched places with her.”

Flo’s face went white. She turned her head toward the counter—and saw the infant. Jessica gurgled happily, smacking her palms against the wood, milk still glistening on her chin.
“Oh my god,” Flo whispered. “She’s… she’s a baby? How—how is that possible?”

Dean’s grip tightened on the device. “That’s what we’d like to know. Let’s see those hands. Now. No sudden moves.”

Slowly, Flo raised her hands, palms open. “I swear it wasn’t me…”

Katy stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “Then explain. Fast.”

“I figured it out,” Flo stammered, her breath ragged. “The notes—in Carlos’s room—they said—” Her voice broke, garbled, words melting into nonsense. “Blgaa… goo… gaaa…”

“What?” Katy frowned. “Flo—?”

A cold chill swept the corridor. Flo’s eyes went wide with shock, and then, eerily, they began to glow, her natural eye colour burning brighter, unnatural light spilling out as if lit from within., her body shuddered, shrinking before Katy’s eyes. Her clothes sloughed loose and vanished as if unravelling into nothing. leaving her skin bare and vulnerable Her face rounded, her jaw receding, Her breasts, once full and rounded, flattened and disappeared, leaving only the delicate mounds of a child's chest. Her nipples shrank and paled, becoming small and almost unnoticeable. The soft folds of her vagina regressed, shrinking and smoothing, until they too were barely perceptible, hidden beneath the rounded curves of an infant's body. Her hips narrowed, and her thighs became plump and soft, losing their adult definition and becoming the chubby legs of a baby. with a soft thump on her bare bum the naked infant toppled backwards onto the kitchen floor, She wailed, the cry raw and high-pitched, her little legs kicking frantically against the tiles.  Katy staggered back, hand clapped over her mouth.

Sarah looked at Dean in horror. “Why did you zap her?”

Dean raised the device defensively. “I didn’t—”

Flo’s shrill cries filled the hall. Katy stepped around the tiny, naked infant writhing on the floor, her eyes snapping to the corridor beyond. A shadow bolted into the distance.

Daniel.

“It’s Daniel!” Katy shouted. “He’s really loose.”

Dean lunged into the corridor, the device raised, his eyes scanning wildly for movement. The echo of footsteps clattered ahead, fast, retreating. A door banged shut somewhere deeper in the halls.

He took another step to follow, but Sarah, burdened with baby Jessica, shifted quickly, pressing her shoulder against his arm. “Don’t!” she hissed. “If you go after him now, we’ll be split up. That’s what he wants.”

Dean’s nostrils flared, his jaw tight. The muscles in his arm bunched as though he might shake her off anyway, but after a long beat he forced himself still. The silence that followed was worse than the chase. Daniel was still here, somewhere in the house. And he knew they were onto him.

“What now?” Sarah demanded, her voice tight with panic.

Katy crouched beside Flo and scooped her into her arms. The baby’s fat little fists trembled against her chest, her cries hiccupping as Katy rocked her gently. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, Flo. I’m here…”

Her eyes flicked down to the half-empty baby bottle lying abandoned on the floor where Jessica had been found. Milk glistened on the teat, pooling faintly across the tiles.

“She said she figured it out… in Carlos’s room, right?” Sarah asked, glancing nervously between Katy and the corridor.

“Yeah,” Katy murmured. “We heard her. Maybe we can still find out what she meant—before Daniel does something worse.”

Flo whimpered weakly in Katy’s arms, tiny legs curling up as she squirmed. Katy hugged her closer, her pulse racing. “We’ll fix this, I promise.”

Dean scowled at the empty corridor where Daniel had vanished, the device still heavy in his grip. “Fine. But we’re running out of time.”

Katy adjusted her hold on Flo, then looked back to Sarah. “Let’s get them both to the nursery. It’s safer there.”

Sarah carefully lifted baby Jessica from the counter, while Katy shifted Flo against her shoulder. Together, they started toward the east wing, the long corridor to the nursery stretching ahead.

Dean moved ahead of them, the sleek device clutched in both hands like a weapon. His eyes swept constantly from doorway to doorway, shoulders tense, every creak of the floorboards making him snap his head around. He kept a few paces in front, scanning the shadows as though Daniel might come lunging out at any moment.

The main entrance hall loomed wide and echoing as they passed through it, stormlight seeping faintly through the cracks of the shutters. Every clap of thunder rattled the high windows, the sound rolling after them across the marble floor. Their footsteps rang too loudly in the cavernous space, each squeak of shoe leather echoing back like a warning.

Dean raised a hand once, halting them as he peered into an open doorway, device leveled. Only after a long moment of silence did he jerk his chin forward, and they kept moving.

Turning into the east corridor, the air seemed heavier, the storm now muffled by thicker walls and lower ceilings. Shadows from the sconces stretched long across the floor, shifting as the group passed. Jessica stirred faintly in Sarah’s arms, letting out a soft coo, while Flo gave a restless kick against Katy’s side, her glowing eyes half-lidded as though dazed.

Dean’s steps were sharper here, more cautious, pausing at each archway to glance inside before waving the others forward. His jaw was tight, his knuckles white around the device.

At the far end, the nursery door finally came into view beyond a bend. The corridor felt endless, their path accompanied only by the low rumble of thunder, the soft gurgle of the babies, and Dean’s steady breathing as he guarded their way forward.

Finally, the long hall ended at the carved double doors of the nursery. Dean pushed them open with his shoulder, his jaw clenched.

Inside, the scene was both jarring and surreal.

Izabella sat calmly in a rocking chair near the window, her long skirt spilling over the polished wood. The chair creaked slowly with each measured sway. Around her, three cribs had been arranged in a neat row—Hugo, Mark, and Carlos lay within them. Hugo was fast asleep, his thumb tucked neatly into his mouth. Mark stirred faintly in his slumber, little legs twitching now and then as though in some half-forgotten dream. Carlos, by contrast, was awake, rolling clumsily onto his side before flopping onto his back again, his tiny legs wiggling in aimless kicks.

The soft glow of a lamp bathed the nursery in a golden haze, giving the impression of warmth and normality—but the truth of the scene, three grown men reduced to infants, was anything but.

Izabella looked up at their arrival, her lips curving into a faint smile, as if she had been expecting them.

Katy’s voice cracked the silence as they stepped fully into the nursery.
“What the hell, Izabella? Why did you run off again?”

Izabella rose slightly in her chair, smoothing her skirt.
“Ah, pardon, Mademoiselle. I had to cover le bébé—he will make le pipi again, you see? We cannot leave them so long, non? They might tumble, they might hurt themselves.”

Her accent softened the words, but the defensiveness was unmistakable.

“You could at least communicate what you’re doing,” Katy snapped. “We’re fighting to stay adults here, Izabella.”

Izabella’s gaze fell on the two tiny girls nestled in Sarah’s and Katy’s arms. Her lips parted, and she let out a soft gasp, her face lighting with what seemed like delight.

“Oh là là… mais regardez-moi ça! Two petites poupées, so adorable, so sweet! Mon cœur, they are like angels, non?”

Sarah’s jaw tightened. She snapped forward, her voice cutting through Izabella’s singsong tone like glass.

“Stop it, Izabella. They’re not dolls, not sweeties. They’re adults—Jessica and Flo. Daniel must’ve gotten free and regressed them.”

Izabella’s smile froze, then flickered as if it couldn’t quite hold. “Ah… mon dieu…” she whispered, the practiced warmth in her tone slipping.

“Can you get them clothed?” Katy asked, her tone brisk. “We need to check Hugo’s room.”

Dean shook his head, tightening his grip on the device. “No. I should stay here.” He stepped toward the nursery door, pressing his back against it like a guard. “I can hold this position, keep her and the babies safe. If Daniel shows up, I’ll deal with him.”

Katy shifted the tiny, wriggling Flo in her arms, then stepped toward Izabella and gently placed the baby girl into her waiting hands. Straightening again, her arms now free, she barely had time to steady herself before Dean thrust the device into them.

His expression was hard, unyielding.
“You take this,” he said firmly. “And if you see Daniel—don’t hesitate.”

Izabella’s dark eyes flicked to the transfer, following the device as it left Dean’s hands. For just a heartbeat, something sharp and wounded crossed her face, offense, perhaps, or insult, before her practiced smile returned. “Oui, of course,” she murmured softly, smoothing the blanket over baby Hugo as though the moment hadn’t cut at her.

Dean’s jaw set. “You find out what’s going on. I’ll make sure nobody gets in, and I’ll see what Izabella knows about the house security.” He cast a sharp glance down the east wing corridor, scanning the shadows for movement. Satisfied nothing stirred, he nodded at the girls, then pulled the nursery door shut with a soft click.

Katy and Sarah exchanged a quick look and a curt nod. Turning, they made their way through the long east wing corridor