The Entity and Stephen Lewis Part 9

[JP71]

[COLOR=#808080]THE ENTITY &[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#808080]STEPHEN LEWIS[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]By JP71[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]Part 9[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 1[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 2[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 3[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 4[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 5[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 6[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 7[/COLOR]
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Part 8[/COLOR]

The next few hours of my life were, at their worst, a sickening variety of things most surreal. Ever see that movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? It was kind of like that, only with muscles. I was caught up in a maelstrom of disjointedness, a convoluted and premeditated whirlpool designed to drown me at its core. Looking back on this dark page, I still can?t make sense of what happened, and I?ve given up trying to. Sure, it knocked my life for six, and set me on course for a downward spiral. And yet, hope would come from the unlikeliest of sources, but I?ll get to that in due course. What had started out as a very horny day for me ? featuring an enjoyable lunch and a better attempt at getting to know Ray McInerney with emphasis on becoming his big fellah ? crashed and burned with dire consequences not long after I admitted Bruno into my home.

?How come the pizza place has your number?? It was an honest question from Ray that required an explanation. I could have just told him the truth, that I?d had more than just pizza or Paella on my mind when last I visited my favourite restaurant only to find that my favourite (now beefier) waiter was on shift and eager to wait on my table. I suddenly couldn?t get the word ?orgy? out of my mind.

?Well if you let our delivery boy in, I?m sure you?ll get your answer,? I somewhat cryptically replied, before bounding into my bedroom to put something on to cover my muscles just enough to not have Bruno jizz himself when he saw me. Damn it, my footfalls were now heavy and pounding and I had to be mindful of the fact that Rita and Oliver had moved into Lance?s apartment directly beneath mine. But I just loved to trot around, anything to make my meaty, dense pectorals bounce and jolt under their sexy weight.

Ray understood immediately when he laid eyes on Bruno. His eyes said ?Wow? on behalf of his tongue, as a beaming Bruno pushed the hefty box of delight into his hands. It just so happened that Bruno was a little forward as he invited himself in, winking at Ray as he pushed into the living room. Ray stood there gawping, probably unsure of what to do as this Italian Adonis seemed determined to make himself at home. Are all Italians this presumptuous? Not that I minded in the slightest.
?So, where is the big, big man? It?s warm in here. You mind if I take off my jacket??

?Er, not at all. I?m just a guest here anyway,? said Ray, and I?d be lying if I said I couldn?t hear his erection boning up from the other room.

Bruno shrugged out of his denim jacket in order to reveal a muscle-mesh top that was so transparent, it was barely there at all. He was about two-forty, maybe two-fifty, most of it on his upper body. He was already bouncing his tasty-looking pecs for Ray by the time I?d re-entered the living room. He saw me. And his reaction was to be expected:

?Fucking Jeezus,? he declared, suddenly looking very small compared to me. I couldn?t find anything loose enough with which to sufficiently hide my body in the interest of keeping boners at bay, and I didn?t want to touch my new and very expensive gear, so I returned to the living room, this time in fresh cargoes, and a button-up black tank-top with a ridiculously low neckline. Actually, ?pec-line? would have been more appropriate, and, of course, I just had to leave it unbuttoned right down to the waistband of my cargoes. The shoulder straps were as thin as bootlaces, so you can imagine that my upper body was hardly covered at all. And yet, what is it about these string-tanks that seem to make a huge bodybuilder look even huger? I flared my lats to their fullest and bounced my pecs vigorously, carving deep striations into them in my attempt to swell up to ?beyond belief? proportions. Oh for fucksake, I needed to grow... I needed to grow... a lot! Damn you, Marek, for rationing the muscle-growth when I desired it more than ever.

?Er... so I?ll take it we?re not having any pizza then.? Ray sounded meek and small all of a sudden, for now he was surrounded with masses of manly muscle. I almost felt sorry for him. I don?t remember much beyond this point, but looking back I blamed the spiked pizza for my lack of control, and the other chemicals that later found their way into my system courtesy of Josef Kobu (or was it Mobu?). Okay, am I getting too far ahead of myself?

So then, I?d tripped out on magic mushrooms back in my college days, during which I?d seen various muscle-gods from my growth stories manifest themselves in real time and space, well... in my mind anyway. Then one of them turned into Dumbo the flying elephant, two of them into Princess Diana, and...well, you get the idea. So it?s safe to say that my penchant for all things muscle dialled so effectively into the ?shroom trip back in my early twenties. This time was no different. No sooner had I chowed down on a slice of free pizza from Little Caesar?s Junkie Emporium, when I was seeing both Ray and Bruno morph into massive bodybuilder versions of themselves. Had it been Bruno?s intention to get me stoned out of my skull so that he?d have all my muscles to himself for an evening, or was he, himself, the victim of a joke, the kind that could get a restaurant closed down permanently? That was something I?d never find out. But for the time being I enjoyed seeing Ray and the Italian Adonis swell up to HULK-sized musclemen, and for once I was the smallest man, therefore my fantasy of being dominated was set to bloom like the fruiting body of an illicit variety of fungus.

I thought that Ray had looked sensational in one of my tight tees, for he was sculpted just enough to fill out clothes in the way they were meant to be filled out. But now that he was bursting out of his gear, his muscles ballooning up, larger and larger, until skin stretched as thin as gossamer, and veins, thick and corpulent, pushed out of his flesh like some gloriously pervasive spreading weed, he was beyond any previous perception I had of him. He ate up space in the living room with gusto and an energy that belied anything remotely human. As he took his place before me, my body now on all fours before his burgeoning flesh, his genitals made short work of his pants, and I gasped when a metre-long dick ? it?s mushroom head fruiting like nothing of nature?s design ? sprung forth to silence my gasps of incredulity and bliss. I could barely hold so much fuck-flesh in my mouth, and suddenly I was struggling to get enough air into my system, although the room felt like a furnace, now, and I really hoped that I hadn?t died and gone straight to hell. But one man?s hell is another man?s heaven. And now my mind struggled to find a happy medium between the two very disparate concepts.

I had eyes in the back of my head; of course I did... I was tripping, after all. I could see Bruno taking up a position to my rear, growing monstrously huge as the mesh-top bonded to his bulging skin melted away from him like oily tears. His muscles now revealed ? huge and glistening ? erupted with size and power. His skin formed a million rudimentary mouths through which to scream out in agony as the muscles beneath gorged on so much blood and space with which to split the skin into so many particles of confetti-like flakes. Bruno roared triumphantly as his dick, now the size of one of my legs, thickened further and further, set to impale me. Suddenly I was Sigourney Weaver in that scene from Alien 3 in the scrap yard, when she goes to retrieve Bishop?s broken remains and almost gets raped up the arse. Now that her image was firmly in my mind ? well I could think of worse things, I guess ? my front and rear aggressors transformed into ten-foot tall N?avi from Avatar. I could feel my arousal intensifying, now that these most beautiful alien men were in control of my destiny. Imagine a N?avi, if you will, and fix the image in your mind, then add hundreds upon hundreds ? nay ? tonnes of hulking, sexy muscle to that image, and that is what my tripping mind chose to have me butt- n? mouth-fucked by. I have to admit that my memory of this experience is sketchy, and I?m using my writer?s imagination to flesh out my recollections in a way that looks good on paper, I guess. But I?d be lying if I said I wanted this experience to end anytime soon.

The massive cock of my N?avi boyfriend Ray continued to swell and pulse down my throat. My gagging reflex was non-functional in this druggy-dream, and so I continued to gorge and take in more and more of his mass, realising almost to the point of panic, that his cock would eventually rend me apart. And did I welcome this? You?d better fucking believe I did.

The Bruno N?avi at my rear also put out a massive phallus with which to bore me through to the quick of my being. Their muscles continued to grow, and their growls of bliss were non-threatening, but seemed to spur on my growing desires to be violated most heinously (and in glorious James Cameron-quality CGI). But there was more to this most surreal of fusions. In keeping with the fungal motif, I suddenly, amazingly, found myself entwined within the tails and plaits of my blue giants, and soon the tip of each plait was putting out thousands of white filaments, each one exploring a different part of my body, as if in search of further orifices. Within moments I was trapped in a chrysalis formed of Ray and Bruno?s prehensile appendages. Their muscles continued to grow, their gasps and moans music to my rapidly-clogging ears. Their parts fucked all of my parts simultaneously, but no sooner had this image formed in my mind, when it was made to collapse around me.

Things seemed more coherent for a time, during which Ray and Bruno were back to their human selves, and there was another addition to our strange, drug-induced orgy. We were all naked, myself, Ray, Bruno... and... Josef. But how did I know his name? Josef Kobu (or Gobu), wasn?t that it? He was tall and rugged, his body a tapestry of scars, each one a testament to things he experienced in his homeland of Masula that are best left out of pleasant conversation. Ostensibly African, he had something of the Egyptian in him, and I got the impression from him that he claimed Ancestry from there. He was very beautiful, but in a real sense, as opposed to men who body-build to improve their strength, fitness and overall aesthetic appeal. He?d been born beautiful, simply that, and I kind of envied him for the short time he spent in my company.

This was the weird thing about this part of my fucked-up experience. Things unfolded around me as a kind of flicker-book, just a few frames at a time alternating between flashing lights and complete and utter blackness. Throughout this time I felt nothing of Marek or anything else in the apartment, and although I could never communicate verbally with my pet entity, I could have scolded him for not coming to my aid when I needed him the most. Was I in danger? I didn?t know it at the time, but looking back.... yes. Yes I was in danger alright. Or rather... my future was.

In darkness I was engulfed in serenity. Then there was a flash of light. Josef was astride Ray on the floor his body bucking against my boyfriend like an animal in heat.

Darkness.

Then light again and this time Josef was flat on his back and Ray was fucking his mouth. Similarly Bruno?s cock was ploughing into the deep furrow between my pecs as he fucked my super-thick chest. My head lolling backwards, I cried out in so much bliss, caring not if Rita and Oliver heard our antics from the apartment below.

Darkness, fleeting.

A flash of blue light, like a camera flash. This time Josef was passing around a bottle of something, a vessel of dark glass, devoid of any kind of labelling. We were all ?strung out? on my sofa, as if our orgy was complete. I remember the extreme bitterness of the draft that passed my lips, my inhibitions completely arrested and a veil of pseudo-assurance from Josef that all was well and that I was completely in control.

Darkness, seeping.

Then a burst of brightness and once again the scene was different:

We were making movies on my laptop, I think. Josef was the director, and this time Bruno and Ray were ravenous for my massive muscles. They were nipping at me, like piranha stripping a carcass bare, only my body was so strong, so undeniably powerful and beautiful, that their eager mouths simply couldn?t dent my flesh. Ray?s hand was upon my cock, working it into a lather, whilst Bruno forced my legs apart with his own before spearing me up the arse with his almost equally-impressive pole. My body was tensed, every muscle across its magnificent surface bulging with insane mass and definition. Josef pumped his own ridiculously hung meat with ultimate abandon, watching the scene before him.

Darkness, engulfing.

Then light and Ray running into the bathroom, vomit trailing out of his mouth as if caught in a wind. This time I was trying to pull Bruno in from the balcony, where he surely would have fallen and possibly broken his neck. He was crying, screaming... something about his father not loving him, and an uncle that ?loved? him too much back in Palermo. He couldn?t fight back against my incredible strength, and so the lesser bodybuilder lived to flex another day.

Darkness, cloying.

The light that came after was sickly sweet. It crawled around me like a million luminescent centipedes, each one vying for living space across my massive bulk. Ray was unconscious on the floor, half-in, half-out of the kitchen area. Bruno was already dressed and making to leave. I tried to call him back, and he briefly acknowledged me with a ?Fuck You!? I could have done without. He was angry as hell, but didn?t I save him from attempted suicide? Shouldn?t he have been grateful to me? I tried to stay conscious at this point, and my last thought before the darkness once again took me was that Josef was nowhere to be found. Where was he? Had we dreamed him up?

Darkness. It took me and was merciful.





The theme from Halloween was what roused me back to consciousness. I was immediately aware of a very sour taste in my throat. My mouth tasted of vomit. Sure enough I?d destroyed the sofa with puked-up pizza and mostly-digested gloop. My head was pounding, but I still managed to find my phone and saw ?SHIRLEY? flashing on the screen. It was bright in the apartment, and I?d no idea what time it was. Shirley Sullivan provided speaking clock services for the day.

?Where are you this morning? Estelle is out for your blood. You pull a muscle at the gym or something??

?Please tell me it?s not Monday,? I croaked.

?It?s Monday. 10:47 am. And you had a meeting at 9:15. I?ve been ringing you for the past hour and a half. I did my best with figures, but McAllister wanted you to sign-off on those three departmental prerequisites that might secure your tenure at this company. You know what he?s like. Everything has to be done last week.?

I didn?t like the emphasis she placed on the word ?might?. ?I?m sick, Shirley. Really sick.? The more I spoke, the more my throat closed up.

?Jesus, you sound it, alright. Don?t worry. I?ll speak to Estelle. She?s leaving, by the way.?

?What? When??

?End of the month. She and the other half bought a bar in Spain, not far from where your folks live, strangely enough. McAllister is taking over.?

?Shit, he hates me.?

?You think? Well that?s what you get for fucking his friend?s husband.?

?Shirley that?s unkind,? I rasped. Turned out that Eric McAllister ? my new boss-in-waiting ? went to college with Gillian Whore-Dyke. Small world, huh? I was screwed.

?Just had to say it, Stephen. Anyway, I?ll make excuses to Estelle and she can pass them to McAllister. If you?re sick, you?re sick. Remember, if you?re out for three days you need a doctor?s note. So play this one to your advantage.?

Whatever that meant. Shirley hung up. Jesus, how long had I been out of it?

I wasn?t alone in my heavily soiled apartment. It looked like a bomb had gone off around me. Furniture was turned on its face; pictures had fallen from the walls. My cactus was in several pieces (I vaguely remembered smashing it myself in a show of strength to... to.... to whom?) Puke was everywhere, along with the mashed remains of several slices of pizza, some of which looked as though someone, at some point, had slipped on a slice and surf-skidded halfway across the living room and into my...

... my rather expensive flat-screen TV set. SHIT, SHIT and MORE SHIT!!!!! The TV was a write-off. Like I said, I wasn?t alone. Ray staggered out of the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his forehead. He was naked except for a towel he?d found to conceal his junk (not that I?d have minded in the slightest). He looked terrible, with circles around his eyes and dried snot caked across his right cheek. There was nowhere clean to sit, so instead I pulled some dining chairs out of the kitchen and set them up amongst the debris of my living-room.

?What happened last night?? His voice fared better than mine. At least he could be understood.

?More like, two days ago,? I mostly mimed, the words unable to emerge. Ray went back to the kitchen and got me a glass of water. I downed it in one go, and some of my voice returned, at least enough for him to make out what I was saying.

?It?s Monday morning. Last time I checked, it was Saturday evening.?

?Were you... burgled?? Ray was looking around the room, his eyes darting from one train-wreck to the next.

?I don?t know. What do you remember??

Neither of us could remember a thing. Then:

?Didn?t I phone for a pizza or something? What happened then??

?That?s it!!!? The word ?pizza? jogged a little of my memory. I suddenly remembered Bruno. He had my number and I had his. I immediately dialled the number on my phone. It rang and rang, but no one answered. Ray was already one step ahead of me, and dialled the number of Little Caesar?s. He made inquiries about Bruno.

?He never showed up for work yesterday,? so I was told.

?What the fuck happened?? Well, it couldn?t have been all that bad. I mean, no police had shown up, although from the state of my apartment it seemed as though they should have been alerted at some stage.

Then I focused on the last still-intact piece of pizza now stuck to the interior of its cardboard packaging. Something smelt fishy. Or rather.... mushroomy. I didn?t know all that much about magic mushrooms, but I remember the ones I?d taken before as having a distinctive and unpleasant smell, much like the smell of this rotting pizza slice.

?The pizza was spiked,? I stated with conviction.

?No way.? Ray had to sniff the slice for himself.

?Fuckin? ?shrooms. I?ll kill that bastard when I get hold of him.?

?We?re missing the bigger picture. How could a trip from magic mushrooms cause so much damage??

?Er hello, Poindexter, biggest bodybuilder alive present and accounted for,? Ray scathed and pointed at me. I?m sure he didn?t intend for his remark to come out that way.

?I?m not the biggest, not yet anyway,? I unabashedly countered. Then I added:

?So you reckon I did all of this?? I swept my arm across both of our cones of vision.

?You probably didn?t know your own strength. The ?shrooms probably interacted with whatever juice you?re on and caused an unexpected reaction.?

?I?m not on juice, Ray.? I longed to tell him about the secret of my muscle-growth but something held me back. After all, I didn?t want to frighten him away.

?Yeah, and I?m Mother Teresa. Look, that?s your business, but something really bad happened here, and we owe it to ourselves to get to the bottom of it.?

?Shall we call the police??

?Are you crazy? What if they drug test us? You can call them if you want, but I?m not sticking around.?

?Don?t be like that. I want you to stay. You?re my fellah, now. That?s not going to change,? I swore.

And so we?d woken up to the strangest of days, wrought from the aftermath of an even stranger one. Ray made calls to his band mates, explaining where he was and that he?d see them that evening for practice. Then we got ourselves together and got cleaned up before spending a good many hours getting my apartment back to looking like a human habitat again.

Later...

?Hey what?s this?? Ray had found my laptop, and became attracted to the yellow post-it partially sticking out of the clamshell. He lifted up the screen and immediately the machine popped out of stand-by mode. The post-it showed a drawing of a pair of pouting, kissing lips and nothing else. Then I noticed:

?They weren?t there before.? I never used my laptop for making videos, and yet now there were several Quicktime icons present on the desktop. Curiously, I clicked on one of them. Immediately a window opened, expecting a password.

?They?re all like this,? I said when I tried to open every one of the files.

?Whatever we got up to, during the course of the last thirty-six hours or so, is in those files. And we can?t open them. Neat.?

I tried everything I could think of to get the files to run. But nothing worked. I thought about phoning Shirley, the computer-whizz. Some of my memory cleared further. I suddenly recalled someone else, another guy who?d arrived shortly after Bruno had.

?Josef.?

?Who?s that?? Ray eyed me with much curiosity.

?Dunno, but the name is making me think of a black guy. I think one of my new neighbours might have gate-crashed our little ?session?, if you want to call it that.? I decided to ask Rita about this, and phoned her on Lance?s number, assuming she?d pick up. Oliver answered.

?Well, we?re still learning their names, but so far I haven?t met anyone called Josef,? he tonelessly replied. The sound of his voice was limp like wet pasta.

?If you find out anything, Oliver, I?d appreciate you contacting me as soon as possible. I really need to find this guy.? Ugh, I was having a conversation with Creep-O Boy.

?This isn?t a detective agency,? he droned, before hanging up.

Ray stayed until around 5pm. Then he really had to shoot off.

?If anything comes to mind, you?ll tell me, right??

?Of course, darling,? I replied, hugging him tight before his departure.

?Oooof!!! Watch it, you?ll break me in half with a hug like that,? he playfully admonished.

?Sorry,? I replied simply.

?You need to be reminded that us lesser mortals compared to a muscle-god like you, are as flimsy as a ship in a bottle.? His simile needed work, but top marks for it bringing back a little of my memory.

?Bottle! A dark bottle,? I wailed, with a sour excitement. Ray suddenly remembered also.

?He passed it around. We all took from it. Jesus Christ, what the fuck did that cunt put in us?? Ray began to look very worried.

?Well we both puked, so it?s safe to say it?s out of our systems. Maybe it was a very powerful narcotic. Made us forget next to everything.?

?But why would he do that? What were his motives?? Suddenly Ray was checking his jacket pocket for the wallet he couldn?t remember putting there. To his relief he found it, still with the forty Euros he expected to be present there. Seeing him do this made me search for my own wallet. I found it and it looked as though nothing had been touched. We both breathed a sigh of relief. Cancelling cards is such a bitch.

And so Ray made tracks. I kissed him deeply, lovingly. I was really falling for him, but the strange circumstances of the weekend kind of took the romance out of things. I?m funny like that. Everything has to be perfect and the scene set correctly for my deepest feelings to surface.

?Call me tomorrow, gorgeous,? I urged him.

?I?ll dream about you growing enormous tonight,? he promised as he stepped out into the hallway.

?You?d better. Because soon it will be a reality. I?m going to get HUGE!!!!? I flexed a bicep and it puffed out enormously.

?You?re incredible,? said Ray, his chest pounding in response to my bulging bicep. I crabbed out a most-muscular as a follow-up, held the pose like a pro, and Ray McInerney left Xavier Heights with a tent-pole in his pants.




There was very little food in my kitchen. I decided it was wise to go out and get some air. It was a mild-enough evening, so I didn?t bring a jacket. I craved a workout, but I was off sick from work, so it wouldn?t bode well for me to be seen pumping iron when I couldn?t even pump a pen at my office desk earlier. Still, as well as foodstuffs and other essentials, I bought some throat medicine and something for an upset stomach. I felt like showing off, so I only wore a tank-top stretched to near-seam-splitting point across my massive upper body. The skin-tight jeans were from my new purchases, but I decided one pair needed test-driving. My thighs were enormous in those jeans, and my calves struggled to find space to breathe inside their denim cocoons. A trip to the supermarket turned a multitude of heads, and yeah, I flirted more than a little with some of the pretty boys I passed. Everywhere I went it was the same reaction: the ?deer in the headlights? look. I must admit to loving that expression from people that ogled my body.

I cleaned out the cash in my wallet, so I decided to catch a movie, rather than go back to the apartment. At the ticket booth it turned out that their credit card reader was on the fritz, so I had to find the nearest ATM. Not a problem at all, as it meant a walk of about a hundred metres, space to show off my rippling muscles to all-and-sundry. But something was up with the ATM. It refused to give me any money. I tried several times, trying to take out a twenty, but the machine kept telling me that I had ?Insufficient Funds?. That was shit, because I had at least sixty grand in there, not to mention my last month?s pay. I tried three different machines. Same result.

?What the fuck is going on?? Panic started to churn in my belly. So much for the movie. It was too late to phone my bank, but instead I called Ray, however there was no answer until it went to voicemail.

?Hey it?s me. If you?re there pick up. You need to check your bank account, Ray. I think I?ve been cleaned out. Don?t ask me how. But you need to check this. Call me as soon as you can.? I hadn?t chewed my bottom lip in years (usually reserved solely for pre-job interview butterflies), but now I did so with enough pressure to break the skin. I tasted blood in my mouth.

I was too restless to go home. Maybe a workout wasn?t a bad idea. I always kept a spare bag of workout stuff in my car, in case I craved a spur-of-the-moment training session. Within minutes I was getting changed in the locker room of Apollo?s Gym.

I didn?t have a specific body-part in mind, but I ended up working my shoulders. I was moving my heaviest weights ever for more reps, and that pleased me. It meant that I was getting stronger, bigger. Within twenty minutes, having barely worked up a sweat, I had the usual gathering around me. My eager fans pushed me to keep exceeding my limits, and breaking my personal bests. I did so every time, and I?d soon, albeit temporarily, forgotten about my recent bank account concerns.

After about ninety minutes...

My muscles were laved in sweat and my musky self was pungent and horny. Some guys wanted to take pictures of me posing, and so I obliged. I was just cranking out a massive full-lat spread ? which spread me out so much that I took up every last inch of my vision?s periphery ? when Ray returned my call. He broke my mood, but I hoped it was good news. It wasn?t.

?My account?s empty, too. I had about a grand in there. What the fuck is going on??

?We?ve been conned, that?s what. Our mysterious Josef, if that?s his name, has cleaned us out.?

My heart sank. Stomach butterflies suddenly shot up into my throat like acid reflux. In the space of a short weekend, an inscrutable one, my bodybuilding dream had been severely wounded.



After a somewhat restless night of tossing and turning, during which sleep refused to come, I groggily phoned my bank first thing next morning. The teller I spoke to confirmed that my bank account had been emptied of funds through their basic funds transfer facility online. I insisted I?d been robbed, but she could find no evidence of tampering, that all security protocols which usually guard against such activities had been met. As far as the bank was concerned, I?d transferred the money myself. I demanded to speak to her superior. He told me the same thing. As far as I was concerned the bank weren?t at fault, but as a gesture of goodwill I was offered a loan with 0% interest for the first six months. I told him where to stick his loan. Then I told him who I was, which meant little to him. My bank was not affiliated with the company I worked for, beyond them both falling under scrutiny from the Financial Regulator, but I still pushed my position, mentioning some names on the Board, as if that would rattle his cage. He remained unflustered. Then, finally, I asked to obtain the numbers of the bank accounts into which my money had been moved, but I was told that there were no records. I threatened him with legal action before almost lashing my phone across the room in anger.

I suddenly felt very helpless. My rent was due at the end of the month, and I wasn?t getting paid again for another fortnight.

I?d never been so outraged in my life. I decided to take it out on Marek. I stormed into my bedroom and demanded he make himself manifest. After about fifteen minutes of trying, the temperature in the room quickly dropped and I was soon in Marek?s presence. I could barely discern his features, and he no longer glowed with anything close to vibrancy. I could sense great despair for him, which I interpreted, was reserved entirely for me, as though my mood reflected back on him (but hardly in a positive light).

?I?ve just suffered the sorriest of blows, Marek. And so I need to grow. Take whatever muscle you can off that bastard across the road and give it to me. Give it to me..... NOW!!!!!!!? I was enraged beyond all previous extremity, although my eyes were wet with tears. Warm breath bellowed from my nostrils and became visible when striking the cold air of the room. My skin flared red and gooseflesh mottled every part of me. Marek could sense the injustice done against me, and I could sense him sensing me. I was no longer concerned about my position at work. Once McAllister was in Estelle?s chair, he?d make my life a fucking misery. If I got huge then I would be better prepared to face any crap coming my way in the near future. I had to be ready for it. I had to GROW!!!!!!!! Marek knew that, and I knew that he was compliant. He?d tried to kill me when he was alive. He was nowhere near to fully atoning for that crime. My lust for muscle-growth negated any suppositions I?d previously arrived at that may have accounted for Marek?s reaction towards me, that ill-fated day. As far as I was concerned, he was guilty of a crime, and now he had to pay me accordingly.

?I don?t care about the consequences, Marek. Make me grow, or so help me, I?ll tear that elevator apart and level that fucking basement and this entire building if you don?t give me what I want.? I could do it, too. I was strong enough. But I was about to get a great deal stronger. But although Marek would help me, neither of us was prepared for the unfortunate consequences of this, my latest growth-spurt.

The entity made its necessary connections, drawing from the lines of psychic energy that pervaded this most paranormal of locations. And from those lines it was able to extend itself downwards, and outwards, tendrils of power extending like metaphysical root-structures deep into the earth below, but also across to Mass Central where Gary, doubtlessly, was working-out as he tried to desperately gain back some of the muscle that had been robbed from him. I felt no guilt as his thief, or at least the recipient of the spoils of such a dastardly theft. But I?d just been robbed, too, and after today I would become so powerful, that no one would ever take anything from me again. The power flowed out of Gary, and back into Marek, who seemed to swell for a moment, before diffusing through me in order to hammer home his latest gift. Once again the bed received me. And I slept as I grew into a fucking titan.


To be continued...

[silvershadow]

I have one word for this "EEK! " He was robbed and so was ray that really caught my attention. Once again you make a reader of this story hunger for more. For once I wish the character wouldn't grow. You have me legitimately worried about what is gonna happen next. Because not all the best choices are made in rage. Can't wait to see the turn out also a little scared of the outcome of this little...erm I mean big endeavor.

[philat99]

Now that was one unbelievably tortured trip!!! Great writing! Sad ending! Looking forward to continued growth, of course, and revenge against the perpetrators! I continue to love your humorous banter between Stephen and Shirley!

[JP71]

Originally Posted by philat99

Now that was one unbelievably tortured trip!!! Great writing! Sad ending! Looking forward to continued growth, of course, and revenge against the perpetrators! I continue to love your humorous banter between Stephen and Shirley!

I'm glad you liked it. I must admit to Shirley being my guilty pleasure. She's actually based on a woman I used to work with, whom I'd have been lost without. With regards to "revenge against the perpetrators", I originally conceived this story to be a two-parter only. Since then it's grown beyond all preconceptions, so I'm really swimming in unchartered waters, and without a life-jacket. In situations such as these, I usually allow the story to evolve organically, as if it had a mind of its own. This "trip" was something I came up with over coffee with a friend. I tried it out, saw that it worked, but now I must suffer the consequence of coming up with a "perpetrator" in a way that doesn't seem predictable, contrived, or clich?d (aka the butler with the candlestick in the drawing room). Right now I haven't a clue, so the perpetrator could literally be anyone (or thing). Ha ha, writing one chapter ahead of my readers, I'm as much in the dark as anyone else.

[umlerian49]

Another outstanding chapter. I really mean it when I say you are an excellent writer.

[stewbake]

Erm... hope I'm not out of order asking this, but when can we expect a new chapter please?

[umlerian49]

Originally Posted by stewbake

Erm... hope I'm not out of order asking this, but when can we expect a new chapter please?

Unfortunately, JP71 has taken a break from the forum for personal reasons. I wish I could say when, or if, he'll be back.

[biguglymofo]

I miss this story. I hope JP71 comes back soon.