Books of Prophecy: Eric's choice

[Corwin]

Commentary (and advisory): These are the authentic texts that chronicle 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 Journal of Eric Young, October 9

So here we are again, van dickie. I know that you said that life goes
by fast, and that by writing things down we don't lose our past. When
you said that I thought, "fuck, who cares." All I give a flying fuck
about is lifting, getting bigger, getting stronger and snuffin'
anything that gets in my way. But with all this shit that is going
down, man, maybe you were right. Now don't go gettin the idea that I
don't think you're a pathetic wimp of man. That weak body of yours
disgusts me. But the past few days, man, I've reread what I've been
writing and maybe it makes a little more sense.

Todd went underground. He wasn't even returning my calls. I guess
that makes sense. I mean, his Dad was a great guy. Nothing like the
pathetic sperm donor that I got as a father. Shit, once I started
getting strong, I ruled this house. The mother-fucker is scared I'm
gonna hurt him. Well, with these big muscles, I just might. You and
he have a lot in common.

Larry called me this morning. Woke me up, but said we had to meet.
He wanted to talk some more. I'm not much into talkin like Larry, but
he's like the boss now. Not always. Sometimes he's the same old kid
that we met at the start of school. But other times, it's like he's
some other person. Kinda old, like he knows stuff. He changes. This
was one of those times.

So, I agree to meet the big guy. He wants to meet in this field, near
a construction zone. I got there, and the fuckin' sun was still
coming up. It was cold, with some frost on the grass and this mist
floating up. Kinda cool. I see Larry standing there, wearing a 9XL
sweatshirt that was like a second skin around his massive chest. He
has to wear these real huge jeans too to cover his massive thighs. He
bunches them at the waist cause they weren't made for a guy with his
thin ripped waist, massive glutes and awesome thighs. Clothing
companies just don't make clothes for guys with the muscle Larry has.
Or me for that matter. Anyway, he comes up to me and puts his arm
around my shoulder and says, "Ric, thanks for coming." He was real
serious like, but kinda soft spoken. It was like the dude thought I
was going to go ballistic or something. He was right, but I mean,
it's not like he can't take me.

Ya, van dickie, I kinda think of Larry like you think of me. Here I
am, a fucking walking wall of muscle. I mean, look at these arms.
All those thick veins in my forearm pumped up as big as most men's
calves. Shit, it's a frick'n hamhock it's so big. I love to bend my
arm, flexing that huge bicep. Man, it's so much fuckin bigger now
than just a month ago. I love the way it bobs up and down, gettin'
thicker and ripped. I've got all this power, but, damn, I want to be
as big as Larry. That dude, all those muscle, shit, makes me feel so
small and weak. I hate feeling like that, feeling like YOU. Fuckin'
pathetic. If you were here right now I'd probably smash your face in.
At least that would make me feel better.

So, when I see Larry in that field, man I feel so small. I think he
knows it too. He says that we should get comfortable. He throws me a
pair of spandex shorts.

"What are these for?"

"New rules," he says. He flexes his back and chest, shredding his
shirt with powerful, ripped muscle. It's like a kernel of popcorn or
something, his muscles exploding shucking that thin skin. Fabric went
flying everywhere, and all the guy did was flex. "This stuff is too
confining. We got it," he says, flexing his arm up and down, watching
as his huge bicep scurries in rhythm with his flex, "it's about time
we show it off." Damn, it's so much bigger than mine. I hate that.
He starts to lower his pants and says, "Besides, it will remind you
who has real muscle while we talk." He stood before me naked, shook
his massive thigh and grins. Then, he steps into his shorts. They
cling to his massive bod, showing every ripple of muscle. Every
striation is defined by the shiny black cloth. Damn, he looks sexy.
He looks over at me and watches as I started to change.

I already told you that I hate how Larry makes me feel small, but I
wasn't going to let him know that. I flexed my massive torso, willed
myself to be huge. I was going to show my power, let him know that I
don't go down easily. As I flexed and expanded my lats and pecs, I
felt the fabric go tight. I was wearing a 5X shirt, but my muscle
was filling it up, forcing it to burst. The shirt ripped into tatters
around my bod. Fuck'n Larry's had popped like a balloon. I ripped the
tatters from my body, getting angry at being shown up. Fuck!

"Don't worry, stud," he said, rubbing his pec. "We'll work on making
those muscles bigger."

I put my hands on my hips, slipped them into my pants and tore my
jeans off in one movement. I slipped the spandex over my massive
thighs, flexing them. Like with Larry, the black fabric expanded,
showing all the muscle and definition. Larry definitely had something
here. I looked hot, especially the way my cock bulged as it was
forced forward by my massive quads.

"So, you didn't ask me here just to try on some superhero tights,
right?" I asked, slipping on a spandex shirt that conformed to my
muscular body.

"Ya, I wanted to talk to you about Frank," he said.

"That asshole? I thought you were going to take care of him. Well,
if you want my help snuffin' the old bastard..."

"He didn't do it," Larry said.

"WHAT! Of course he did! He was there! He had..."

"He said he didn't do it and I believe him," Larry said calmly.

"You're insane!" I started to walk away, but Larry grabbed me and
pulled me back. Instinctively I swung at him.

Ya, ya, ya, I know. 'Violence never solved anything,' is what a wimp
like you would say. I beg to differ. Larry let me punch him. Hell,
even with all my muscle, my fist just bounced off of him like nothing.

"Go ahead, take your best shots if it will make you feel better," he
said, flexing hard.

I whaled into him, using him as a human punching bag. Jab after jab,
punch after punch. I held nothing back. I have to admit, it felt
good, but he didn't even budge. These fists have brought down
concrete walls, but on him nothing. Nothing! Not a scratch on him,
and my fists were beginning to hurt. They never hurt. I'm tougher
than that. After a few minutes, I stopped.

"You done?" he asked casually.

"Ya."

Faster than lightning, I saw him draw back and thrust his big fist
into my abs. I doubled over, staggered back. Another fist came up
into my pecs, lifting me off the ground and sending me flying a good
10 yards back.

"There. Just a reminder," said Larry, walking over to me and offering
me a hand up. "Now, listen to me," he ordered.

I scowled at him. I took his hand, and he yanked me up like I was
some sorta rag doll. Damn, I wanted to pound him into the ground!
How could he take that murderer's side.

"Look," he said, "it doesn't make any sense that Frank would kill
Mark. They've been buds forever, like you and Todd."

"Ya, but Todd says that they were arguing, probably about him."

"And how does Todd know this?"

That was a good question.

"He was with you when it happened, right?"

I scowled. Damn.

"He was there. There was blood on him, and, well, Todd..."

"There was blood everywhere. Look, you ever fight with Todd."

"Ya, sure."

"You ever kill him? Want to." Larry looked at me.

"Well, I guess I can get pretty pissed off..."

"But you hold back. You just let loose on me, but did you want to kill me?"

"Are you dead?"

He laughed at me. OK, it was an empty threat, but I could still do
major hit points of damage if I really tried. Well, I think I can.

I wasn't sure, so I continued to argue with Larry. "OK, so maybe we
do hold back, but that doesn't mean that Frank did. I mean, he was
there! If it's like you said, why wouldn't Frank stop it and protect
Mark if he like him so much."

"You ever see that Scooby-Doo movie?" Larry asked. "Just because
there is a mystery to be solved doesn't mean that it's the obvious
suspect."

I still wasn't convinced Frank didn't do it, but I was less certain,
so I let Larry talk.

"Frank can't really remember what happened. He said someone took him,
drugged him and he woke up in the kitchen. When he came to, Mark was
dead. That's when you and Todd came in."

"Convenient," I said.

He glared at me. "Look, what are the facts? We know that Frank went
missing, right?"

"Ya. We know Mark is dead," I reminded him. "And that's when Frank
showed up."

"OK. We also know that there are people out to get us. Wayne's
people tried, right?"

"Ya, but you took care of them."

"Well, maybe. I took care of some of them, but who knows how many
more there might be. Frank doesn't think it's them, but I don't want
to rule out any possibility."

I snarled. "So, you think Wayne's people set up Frank?"

"I'm just saying it's a possibility. There's one other, though."

"Ya, who? The boogie man?"

"Kinda. The people who attacked Frank and Joe those many years ago.
They made a deal with Wayne to keep us fighting among ourselves. Now
Wayne is gone. The balance of power has changed, and the protection
they had is over."

"You think they're back?" I asked.

Larry didn't answer. "It doesn't matter what I think. It is a
possibility. We need to explore every option."

I took that as a yes.

"We need more information," Larry continued. "Can you get Todd to sit
down with Frank and Joe so we can reason this out?" Larry's voice
went soft, like the kid again. "I really need your help."

"More talk. I'd rather just bash some heads in," I said.

Larry patted me on the back and chuckled. "There will be time for
that."

I went to talk to Todd.

---

From the Journal of Todd Rothman, October 9

I saw Ric today. I mean more than I met up with him. I mean I really
SAW him.

I went back to school for the first time since Dad died. I was
walking down the hall to home room when I saw them. All the normal
kids, they look like nothing. The morphs though, they glow. As I
walked, I felt my senses become overloaded. That's when I saw them.
Ric and Larry were talking about 15 feet in front of me. Ric was like
a bonfire, bright and powerful. The morphs I had sensed before this,
they were like matches or candles or something. Ric was incredible!
Even so, he paled compared to Larry. Larry was like some sorta
lighthouse, super bright.

When I saw them I froze in my tracks. I hungered for them. I wanted
to go over and drain them, take all that beautiful muscle power for my
own. I could do it to. Now. But no, Father told me not to. He told
me to bide my time -- our time.

He is so kind to me, so protecting. He understands so much, and I
know so little. He promised to teach me, and I pledged my loyalty to
him as long as he protects Ric. Ric will be my lover forever. Father
promised me Frank. Once I drain him, I will be so much stronger than
Ric. He'll worship my power like I worship Father. Father is so much
more than either of these morphs, and he promised to make me second
only to him.

I pulled myself together. Ric came over, and I tried not to stare. I
told him I was still a bit shook up from Dad's death. He believed me,
I think. We skipped class and went outside to talk.

I nearly lost it when he said Larry thought Frank didn't kill Dad. I
was caught off guard a bit when he asked me why I was so sure. "Well,
you see Ric, I'm a child of Claudius now and I can sense you morphs
and the echoes you leave so I actually saw him do it -- over and over
and over." Ya, that would go over real well. Instead, I told him
that I had a gut feeling, that there was something weird about Frank.
I tried to tell him that he was wrong, that I had heard him threaten
Dad before. I lied. Maybe he believed it.

He asked if I would just sit down with Larry and hear him out. He
said Frank and Joe would be there.

Father had said, "They will come together again. When they do, I will
come and you will have your revenge and I will have mine. You will
tell me, no?"

Tomorrow is the Council meeting. I asked Larry if we could do it in
my house, bring Frank back to the scene of his crime. He said yes and
he'd make sure Larry agreed.

Father was very pleased when I told him. He permitted me to thank him
in our special way.

I've begun to notice something. My cock is now bigger than his. When
he rubs them together in his big, muscular hands, I am longer and
thicker. If Father has noticed, he doesn't say. As I worship him,
all he tells me is how much I please him. I want to please him so.