Books of Prophecy: Fight Club

[Corwin]

Commentary (and advisory): These are the authentic texts that chronical the
beginning of our third age. They contain acts of violence that
characterized our second age, particularly under the reign of The Tyrant.
Novices and others not of age or of an appropriate disposition shall not
read these words. -- The Council of Masters

---
>>From the diary of Lawrence Morgan, September 10

...

Frank told me he'd train me. I thought that meant that I'd learn to
control these, well, I just didn't want some things to happen again.
Mistakes happen, and you gotta move on. I mean, it's not like the police
are looking to arrest me or anything.

Anyway, the training was weird. It involved crashing cans and destroying
abandoned buildings. It felt good, but how is this training me?
---
>>From the diary of Lawrence Morgan, September 17

...

Frank let Eric come along tonight. He said he wanted Eric to charge me.
It was great, but Eric is only a battery compared to Joe's power station.
I joked that Eric was my EverReady Bunny, but Eric didn't seem very amused.

It felt really good to destroy those freeway overpasses. I mean, no
one was hurt. They weren't open yet, and the guys that built them
once can build them again. I guess I kinda created jobs and helped
the economy. Anyway, Frank made me kick them down, punch them down,
claw them down, uproot them then swink them to knock others down or
maybe throw them. It was fun, but I wish he'd let me do more. I don't
know what, but it was kinda easy. I mean, it was only steel.

I guess I just feel that I'm not living up to the potential of my body.
The training just really isn't taxing me. Damn, I think I'm almost as
strong as Frank now, I mean, after all the sex Joe and I have. I know
that Joe loves Frank and can never be mine, but I still love him anyone.
Not as someone I want to spend my life with, but more like a brother or a
mentor.

...

I just read what I wrote. There is a part of me that doesn't
recognize myself anymore. It's been less than a month since, no I
didn't change, well, since I discovered who I was. It's like this new
person is taking over and the old Larry is fading away. Sometimes I
still feel like the scared, shy dweeb, and then I hate myself for
being that wimp. I'm this new person, strong and confident and not
willing to take shit from anyone. It's like the battle between
Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. I think I like Mr. Hyde better.

---
>>From the diary of Lawrence Morgan, September 24


Today was strange. No, that's wrong. It was freaky. I killed a man.
I fucking killed him! It wasn't like last time. I chose to kill him.
I wanted to. I was all my fault! It was him or me, which is OK I
guess. Like self-defense or something. I want to pretend like I was
caught up in the carnival or something, but I can't lie to myself. I
wanted Wayne dead just because he existed, and I hated him. I had
never even met him before today, but I hated him anyway.

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

I should have wondered what was up when I got the call from Ric. I
wasn't suppose to see him til later that weekend. He said that he was
coming over and to be ready. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later he
showed up. Eric was with Frank. Frank looked at me with his intense
blue eyes and said, "Get in."

"What's up?"

Frank didn't answer. I looked at Ric, but he didn't look back. He
actually looked kinda scared. Uncle Frank got on the freeway. No one
spoke for at least 20 minutes. Frank turned off at an exit that leads to
the industrial section of town. The roads were pretty deserted. That's
when Frank spoke.

"Tonight's the night you and Eric come into your birthright. Nothing
will be the same for you anymore. Tonight ends the innocent world you
live it. It's gone now -- shattered. You are about to meet others of
your kind and learn our creed."

I didn't understand.

"Damn kids. You think its all about pretty muscles and getting strong.
Look boys, you're like me. You are more than a man, more than the strength
you posses. You have power. Muscle. And will. Others will be out to
conquer you, to kill you or make you their plaything. You must defend
yourself, or die trying."

"There's more to it than just muscle. There are other rewards. I am
over 500 years old. Joe is a bit younger at 450 years, give or take.
Larry, you are a musclemorph. Ric, so are you, but a different kind.
Larry, Joe told you that it was about strength. He lied. Your
strength, your power, it is your life. It sustains you, keeps you
young and will keep you alive. Some guys weaken over time, and when
their power is gone, they are too. Some enemies can steal your power,
and with it your life."

"Enemies?"

"You need to learn about them. They're like vampires. They live off
our power like a vampire lives off the blood of normals. Our vampires
have no power of their own. They have no natural morphing ability, no
superstrength or size, but they can steal ours."

"Are those the guys that Joe was talking about?"

"Ya. He and I had a run in with one, once. A real bad one." Frank's
voice seemed to trickle off.

"But you beat him."

"In a sense," Frank said, pausing, the more forcefully, "But this
isn't about my history, it is about your future. You need to learn
about our community with our rules. Rule number 1, the strongest make
the rules."

Frank pulled into a parking lot. There was a building at the other end,
and some cars parked closer. He shut off the car and continued.

"A guy named Wayne is the strongest of us. He is our leader and he makes
the rules. Wayne has ruled us for 400 years. There have been more
powerful men then Wayne, but they've all been killed by the followers of
Claudius."

"Claudius?" It was the first thing Eric said.

"Claudius was the first vampire. Some say he's still alive. Others
say he's dead. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that they
killed those that could have defeated Wayne." Frank seemed like he
wanted to say more about these vampires, but stopped. He went back to
talking about Wayne.

"Wayne's law is simple. Wayne gets what he wants. The strongest
survives. He doesn't care what happens to anything weaker. Well,
that's not true. Wayne likes to crush anything weaker, and watch it
get crushed. And Wayne has followers, morphs that protect him. He
rewards them well, too."

"So, you brought us here to meet Wayne?"

"Every month, our community gathers. We see who still lives, mourn
those that died. Wayne travels from group to group, proving his
power, showing his strength, and killing anyone who might even think
of challenging him. Wayne is here tonight. It was Wayne who ordered
me to take care of Matthew. I don't think he expected me to live."

Frank turned, open the car door, and began to walk toward the
building. With a look, he ordered us to follow.

Eric and I got out of the car. Ahead of us, Frank was removing his
shirt. His body was fantastic. He had no bodyfat, and his dense
muscles seemed to pulse with power. His back was a symetric mountain
range of muscles, evenly raising and lowering from a deep divide that
ran down the center of his thick lats. Last week, I would have given
anything to look like him. Now, my body was bigger, more powerful
looking.

Eric had removed his shirt and put on a white tank top that barely
contained his massive muscles. He tossed one to me.

I decided to show off. I don't know why. No, that's not true. I do
know why. I knew it when Frank was telling us about Wayne. I felt
challenged, and I responded in a way that was foreign to my childlike
mind. I felt a new need to win -- to be physical. I wanted to be the
superior one. It was a desire that ripped at my soul. I was
superior. I could do anything.

I ripped my sweatshirt off, showing muscles larger than even Eric's.
I did what Eric wanted, I put that wifebeater on. Then I looked at
him, snickered, and flexed. Hard. Powerfully. I felt my muscles
tense and swell with power. My chest expanded and my wings came out.
Eric was powerful, but nothing compared to me. The shirt ripped into
rags, unable to contain my body -- my muscles -- MY POWER! I left it
dangle over my hard muscles to demonstrate my power. Eric and I
walked toward the building.

Frank was by the door now. He stopped for a second so we could catch
up. When he opened the door, I was momentarily blinded by the bright
lights. I wasn't prepared for what was inside. It was like a
carnaval or something. There were canopies with what appeared to be
vendors. Around them were men -- huge men. Men with huge muscles
wearing leather, denim or nothing at all. Some were hairy, and some
had little or no hair.

In one booth with a sign Branding Artist, I saw a guy lying on a
table, his massive arm out to his side. Another guy was using tongs
to pick a red hot chain from a kiln. He dropped the chain on the
guy's huge bicep. First, I heard the sound of flesh charring. Then I
smelled burnt flesh as the second guy used the tongs to wrap the chain
around the other guy's tricep. The massive guy didn't even flinch. After
15 seconds, the chain was removed, an imprint of the links branded
into his massive biceps. The massive guy flexed and patted the artist
on the back.

Between two tents, two guys appeared to be wrestling. A larger guy
was kicking the shit out of the smaller, when he suddenly snapped the
smaller guy's arms in two. The small guy screamed in pain, his arms
dangling from his side. The larger guy kicked the smaller guy's knees
out, sending him to the ground. Then he grabbed the legs, and placing
his foot on the bone, snapped the legs as easily as the arms.

That's when something weird happened. The guy got up, his arms and
legs healed, but different. They were growing. They grew quickly, and
the guy seemed to be blowing up like a balloon. His arms were larger
than the other guys now, as were his legs. His pecs and lats also
seemed to blow up, making him huge. The now larger man walked up to
the guy who had just, well, shattered his body. He hugged him and
kissed him deeply.

"That's Russ," Frank explained. "The only way he can get stronger is
to have his old limbs crushed. John's his lover. He morphs muscle in
a more normal way, but it takes him a while. When he grows
sufficently big, he transfers the new power to Russ. John's a friend
of Joe. You know, Joe can't resist a big cock on a muscular body.
John's hung like a donkey."

Frank walked over up to a guy who looked small and weak, like he
didn't belong there.

"Guys, this is Bob. He's one of the strongest guys here. Bob, this is
Ric and Larry. They're new."

Bob shrugged, then walked over to a table where guys had been arm
wrestling. One big guy walked up and put his arm down, ready to go.
Bob grabbed the arm and both men's muscles exploded into defined
power. Bob was small, but cut. He grinned, then feigned a yawn.
Suddenly, the big man screamed as Bob twisted his arm, ripping the
muscle at the shoulder. Bob literally tore through the muscle, tendon
and snapped bone as easily as someone tears through paper.

As I write this, I barely recognize myself. I should have been
appalled, scared, running for my life. Instead, I felt a blood lust.
The wimp had it coming, not knowing what he was getting into. Bob was
stronger. Demolishing the guy was his right. I wanted to see more.
No, I didn't want to just see it. I wanted to do it.

"These are our kind -- your kind," Frank said, putting a hand on my
shoulder. "Strength rules here. Some of these guys morph, some are
batteries. This is where we come together, trade, party and fight."

Frank, Eric and I walked past more kiosks. Some sold clothing. The
clothes were tapered to conform to huge muscles, yet allow the wearer to
move without ripping through his shirt or pants.

In other kiosks, guys prostituted themselves. Some were batteries selling
their stored power. Others were morphs looking to exchange strength. All
of them sported huge baskets. Well, they were huge for them, but they had
nothing on Todd.

Frank walked toward the center of the carnaval. A circle had been
created, and inside was a huge man. He was blonde, about six foot four.
He wore only a pair of spandex shorts. His muscular definition was as good
as Frank's, but his mass was incredible. His pecs jutted out like armored
shells covering his chest. His back was triangular, and kinda looked like
a stealth bomber. His legs looked like as wide as redwoods. But the
weirdest thing, he seemed to be getting bigger as Frank approached.

There was one other thing about the blonde man -- he was covered in
blood. It was splattered on his huge body. Mixed with his sweat, it
formed streaks and rivers that only served to make the big guy look more
intimidating.

"Cool." Eric was really into this. "Each of these guys has a different
way of morphing. Jeeze, man. Isn't this great!"

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Dunno."

"Don't wanta know, kid. That's Wayne." Bob was behind us. "Wanna arm
wrestle kid?" Bob smiled.

"Uhm..." I could see a confused look on Eric's face. Then he kinda
nodded.

"Hey kid, either arm wrestle me or leave, cause if ya don't accept the
challenge, I gets to kill ya. Stength rules. It's Wayne's law. Franky
must have thought you understood that or could take care of yourself if he
brought ya here. Maybe he was wrong." Bob walked over to the table and
assumed an arm wrestling position. Seeing him, I felt something else take
over. It was like I was just an observer, watching my body walk to him.

I took his hand and tried to take his strength. There was nothing there. He
grinned. His arm looked like a toothpick next to my huge muscles. I
flexed and started to move his hand. He stopped me after only a
millimeter. I could feel his strength increase to equal mine.

"Wow!" Bob said. Each muscle fiber in his body came into bold relief
and seemed to swell. His small arms grew past 16 inches to 17 and 18.
His pecs became visible balls of power. He grew in his seat as his
ass filled out and his thighs bulged. I could feel him morphing me,
and then I felt my morphing power kick in. I began to grow too.

It was the fight. Bob morphed through the combat. I could feel myself
growing stronger as we morphed each other. After a few seconds, Bob began
to sweat. His arm past 19 inches, but I began to move it slowly to the
table. He strained, but I forced it down. He was unable to stop it. The
whole thing took no more than 15 seconds. Bob was red. His body no
longer was thin -- it fit in with other guys.

"Damn man. Ain't no one that powerful. Only Wayne and Frank's been able
to do that to me, and not that fast. What are you?" Bob looked scared.

Eric came over to me. "Man, I don't know what's goin on, but I don't
think it's good."

I looked around and everyone was looking at me and Bob. I saw Frank
and he didn't look happy. Wayne was walking toward us. He was
grinning, but it wasn't a happy grin. It was the grin of an animal
that just saw new prey.

That's when I did it. I got up, flexed, and began walking toward Wayne. I
heard someone mutter what must have been a warning, "Wayne doubles
anyone's strength."

As we got within 10 feet of each other, Wayne started to change. His
already huge muscles started to grow. He stopped, enthralled with the
new power he must have been feeling. His muscles grew. "Already
stronger than Frank. That's a lot of power you're packing. Who were
you?"

He used the past tense, trying to intimidate me. It didn't work. I
felt mad. "Larry Morgan, the guy who's gonna kill you." What the
fuck was I saying!

"Others have tried." Wayne took another step toward me, and he grew
even bigger.

"It wasn't the right time. Now it is." I don't know what was going
through my mind. Maybe I was trying to sound tough. All I know is I
wanted him dead. How dare he try to be bigger than me! I'd show him
what muscle power I had. I took a step toward him. Wayne grew, not
only more muscular, but also taller. His spandex strained to contain
the mountain of manhood he was.

I ripped off the remains of my shirt, and took the final step toward
Wayne. My pecs touched his, and I invoked my morphing power. I had never
felt such power, not even from Joe. Wayne's pecs were steely hard as my
pecs caved in to accomidate his mass. The warning I had heard wasn't a
lie. Wayne was easily twice as strong as me. As I morphed, so did he. I
felt my strength double, then quadruple as Wayne seemed to morph as fast
as I. He suddenly raised his arms and pushed against me, sending me
flying backwards like I was nothing.

"Bob was right kid. You're strong. But I'm twice as strong, and
always will be." Wayne was on me in seconds. I felt him throw a huge
fist into my pecs, crushing them. I turned off the pain, using it to
focus my concentration on my growth. I would be the strongest and I
would win this fight.

I saw Frank shaking his head. He must be totally disgusted with me.
The fight had attracted a crowd, but I ignored them. Instead, I
concentrated on Wayne. The cheers and catcalls only fueled my
determination to bring him down.

I tackled Wayne, jumping and hitting him in the knees with my
shoulders. I had hoped to break his legs. Instead, my shoulder hurt.
He fell and I grabbed him again. It was like wrestling a warm marble
statue. My fists hurt as they punched his hardened body, unable to
even leave a mark on his skin. Wayne grabbed my wrists in one hand
and slapped me hard. Then again. Blood was coming out of my nose. I
licked it with my tongue. My resolve was unbroken. I forced myself
to morph more. Wayne drew back a heavy fist and hurled it at my
head. I barely was able to move away, Wayne embedding his hand in the
floor. He was up to his elbow in concrete and dirt. That's when I
noticed it. Wayne was beginning to sweat.

Before Wayne could free himself, I grabbed him from behind. I forced
myself to continue to morph, doubling in strength to match Wayne. My
muscles bulged, and each cord seemed to grow thicker as my body became
denser. Wayne morphed too, but was beginning to sweat more. That's
when I noticed another change. His skin began to feel softer and my
muscles were nearly as hard as his. Wayne was still lots stronger
than me, but not double. I was catching up and his morphing was
slowing down.

Wayne tried to wiggle free, but I grabbed his spandex pants and ripped
them off. It was easy. Wayne was straining them already. Wayne's
huge cock poked free, a good 13 inches of super thick man cock. I
grabbed that monster dick and couldn't even get my hand around it.
But it had the effect I wanted. He was turned on, distracted from the
fight. He flipped around and grabbed my pants, ripping them off.

"Fuck. Too bad I gotta kill you." With that, Wayne grabbed me in a bear
hug. I had delayed long enough. Wayne flexed and squeezed. I think he
expected me to pop like a balloon or something, but I didn't. Instead, I
flexed back. His arms dug into my lats and I fought to overcome him.
Slowly he was able to sqeeze deeper. I did feel short of breath but I
struggled to morph more and more. Then... I stopped him. It seemed like
an eternity as he tried to crush me and I held him. Then I began to feel
my flex push his arms out. Harder and harder I flexed. I could feel my
chest begin to push into his, forcing his armor to deform to fit my
irresistable mass.

Wayne suddently let go and jumped back. He was shaking and drenched
in sweat. He had stopped growing while I continued to gain more
power. He threw a fist into my abs, but it bounced harmlessly off my
cobblestones. He shot a piledrive fist at my face. I raised my arm
and grabbed it, stopping it in mid flight. A punch that was more than
strong enouch to crush the foundations of this building, and I caught
it like it was a horsefly. I closed my grip, feeling his bones pop
and snap. Fragments broke through the skin as I turned his hand into
a useless, bloody mass.

I held onto his arm and continued to morph his powers, but there was
something different about this. I could feel myself morphing OK. In
fact, I was like a man in a desert without water who had just come
upon an oasis. But, I wasn't just equalling Wayne or adding his power
to mine, I was taking his power and making it my own. I could feel my
morphing power reaching into Wayne and doubling any power he had. I
could tell that Wayne's power had seemed to reach its limit, being
conquered by my superior morphing ability.

Now the tables were reversed. I was the irresistible force and Wayne
was the object bending to my will. My cock was hard at the thought of
fucking this man, and more. I was hard as steel and his massive
glutes were putty. My sword split into him as he resisted. He
wimpered as I fucked him. I could hear the crowd screaming, but it
was like they were a phantom audience -- not really there. Only Wayne
and I were there. We were alone and only one of us would emerge. It
would be me.

I massaged his massive chest as I had my way with him. I stroked his
incredibly thick meat that was so hard my fingers couldn't dent it. His
struggles were futile and subsided as he realized that I was now the one
who was twice as strong as him. And strength rules.

Wayne suddenly began to come and he screamed. As he came, I could feel his
pecs getting smaller and his body getting lighter. The massive butt that
was cushioning my relentless fucking deflated. His thighs failed against
my powerful thrusts. He fell forward, my mass crushing his hips. His
wide V narrowed and my arm crushed his ribs. One after another they
snapped against my single handed bear grip. Wayne was now a skeleton with
flesh. His muscles were gone, as was his power. It was now mine, as it
should be.

I was now in charge, except, well, I'm still me. I'm still the wimp
who gets beat up every day. I'm also the man that raised a piledriver
fist and slammed it into Wayne's face, splattering his brains over the
crowd.

The on-lookers were silent. Then one person started. "Strength rules.
Strength rules. Strength rules." Another person joined him. Then a
third. Soon, the whole crowd was doing it.

Frank came over. He put his arm around me. I tried to morph him, as
always. He resisted, as always. He failed. Wow. Frank looked at me,
then kissed me. He led me out of the arena to his truck. Eric followed
us.

On the way to a wild orgy at Todd's house, all he said was, "We'll deal
with this mess tomorrow."

---
>From the Journal of Eric Young, September 24, 2000

...

So, I saw this giant walk over to Larry. Uncle Frank muttered, "damn"
as he stood next to me. "He was a good kid, too." I guess Frank
didn't have much faith in Larry. When I saw them stand next to each
other, I understood why. Larry looked so small next to Wayne. He was
so fragile and Wayne looked like he'd rip him in two. When the fight
started, that's exactly what happened. Wayne hit Larry with such
force he just went flying across the room. I don't think Frank
expected Larry to get up, but he did.

"Maybe the kid isn't such a wimp," Frank said as Larry went back for
more punishment.

The crowd was really egging Wayne on too. Most were screaming to
'kill the kid' and 'rip his arms off'. Wayne tried too. I heard a
few guys say softly that they hoped Larry showed Wayne. I think they
were afraid to say it too loud, in case Wayne won and decided to make
examples of them.

As the fight went on, I noticed that Frank wasn't watching Wayne and
Larry, he was scanning the crowd. As Larry began to free himself from
Wayne's bear hug, Frank lunged. Man, I've never seen him move that
fast. He grabbed this guy, and I noticed he had a gun or something in
his hand. Frank crushed it and snapped the guys neck fast, before he
could react. Another bigger guy came up to Frank, and they began to
exchange blows.

That's when I saw something to. There was this big guy. I don't know
how I knew, but I knew he was a battery. He was pushing his way to
the front, trying to get near Wayne. His bad luck was that he had to
get by me. I grabbed him. I could feel the power in him.

"Fuck. Let me go, asshole!" He swung at me, hitting me in the chest.
It didn't really hurt.

"Where do you think you're goin'?"

"None of your fuckin business!" He swung again. "Let me go, asshole.
I don't want to use my muscle on you. This power is for Wayne!"

"No way man. Wayne beats Larry fair and square or he doesn't beat him at all."

He punched me in the face, but I held on, barely. "There is no fair
and square, there's only Wayne's rules. And Wayne does rule. He
needs a charge and I intend to give it to him."

I guess that's when I noticed it. Wayne was struggling, like his
power had maxed out or something. This guy must have been one of his
batteries, and he was determined to charge Wayne back up. I knew I
had to stop him. I grabbed the guy harder, started squeezin' him. He
struggled, but couldn't get free from my mighty grip. Frank came
over, grabbed the guy and began morphing his strength.

"That's for Wayne," the guy shrieked.

"Not any more."

I noticed that Larry was fucking Wayne now. Man, was that hot, but
Wayne was beginning to look tired and drawn. As Frank took the last
of this guy's charge, I swear the wimp began to cry and whimper
something like, "Wayne, I failed or" or something pathetic like that.
That's the wrong thing to do around Frank -- show that type of
weakness. Frank whaled on his face, knocking the guy out cold.

It was totally awesome, Mr Van Dicky. I mean, I can't wait to see Larry
in action again. The way he totally beat Wayne, talking all his power
like that. And watching Wayne grow weaker and weaker. The look in his
eyes as he realized his strength was gone for good. At least he had his
life. If Lar had been a vampire or something, Wayne would have died.
Instead, Wayne got to die like a man, at the hands of someone stronger.

I let Lar fuck me that night. God, he felt good. So strong. I felt his
power. Frank was really into Larry too. I think Todd's Dad was a
little jealous, but it must have turned Frank on to know that in less than
a month, one guy had come up from nothing to be the strongest morph there
is. Frank just kept rubbing Larry's body and sucking his dick. Larry
didn't seem to mind feeling Frank's hairy chest either. Both seemed to
have an endless supply of cum for each other.

[arpeejay]

Hmm. What to say? I love the growth descriptions, I like the dominance thing, the "battle to death" / snuff sequences make perfect sense in the context of the story -- and they're quite unpleasant. I hope at some point Larry will figure out that being strong doesn't require being a killer (any more that being a killer requires being physically strong.)

rpj

[Corwin]

ya, it's a snuff story. sorry about the unpleasantness -- i've actually toned it down quite a bit (and there is the disclaimer).

Larry -- can't say what will happen to him other than the fact that there is a prophecy about him (and frank, eric, etc) and they cause the birth of the 'third age'. You learn about the first age in the next chapter. Oh, and the problems Larry created for himself.

More eventually...

[arpeejay]

No need to apologize. It's not my cup of tea but it strikes me as a device for moving the plot forward, not snuff (*) for snuff's sake, which really rather grosses me out. Complaining about it is rather like objecting to blood in Anne Rice novels.

rpj

(*) whose great-grandmother in rural Alabama "dipped snuff," an altogether (although no less yucky!) concept...

[Corwin]

Oh no, not Ann Rice! Did you read Blackwood Farm ::shudder....

And you're right about the snuff being a plot device. I hope that there is a mythology here (albeit a violent one), and the death is simply part of that.

Scott

[viamanmax]

That was so HOT please get the next section written fast.

You write the best stories on here. No chance you could email me a zip of all of your stories. Thanks anyway though.
[email protected]

[Corwin]

Thanks.

If you browse by author, you can find all the stories that I've written. I actually don't have them anymore -- I'm letting Flexodus's cool database keep them for me and everyone for all time.

I'm working on the next chapter now.

Nice avatar by the way ;-)

Scott

[viamanmax]

Thanks

You practically single handedly keep the stories cuming.
[email protected]