Books of Prophecy: The testimony of Cecil van Dyke

[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

The following is a transcript from the last known video tape of Cecil
van Dyke. As a teacher of high school English, Mr. van Dyke is
credited with the creation and archiving of the Books of Prophecy.
The diary entries from his students are the official record and
history of start of the Third Age, when our kind took their rightful
place in the kingdom of man.

BEGIN TRANSCRIPT

The camera jiggles and shakes. A hand passes in front of the lens. A
long, emaciated face looks into the camera, then backs away. A small,
bookish man appears. His hair is disheveled and he looks like he
hasn't gotten much sleep. He sits in a chair in a room that is lit by
a solitary lamp. He is shaking.

"I..." he says, stammering. "My name is Cecil van Dyke." He tries to
compose himself, but fails. There is tension in his voice when he
blurts out "I didn't know? How could I?" He closes his eyes,
shakes his head. He takes a deep breath.

"Today is October 11. Six weeks ago I gave my class an assignment. I
teach English Composition at William Jefferson Clinton High School.
It was a standard assignment I give every year. I tell my class to
keep a journal. I believe to become a good writer, one must write
every day. A journal is the easiest way to do this." Mr. van Dyke
picks up a stack of papers. "This year," he holds the stack toward
the camera, shaking, "this year was different."

Still panicked, he rattles on, "They broke into my house this morning.
They tore the door down, their bodies covered with blood and through
these at me. Forced me to read them. Told me to keep them safe 'OR
ELSE!'. I was helpless. They were so strong." He starts to cry.

"The violence. The horror! Who could have imagined such a thing?
Here," he picks up the first chapter, "a student brags about killing a
boy at another school. And here..." he leafs through the stack and
picks out a chapter, "incest and rape and then they kill another man.
Never in my eighteen years of teaching have I ever..." He stops and
jumps up, looking to the side, searching for what startled him. "I
think they are still watching me. I must make this short."

Mr. van Dyke places the stack on the floor. "They told me how it
ends. It's not written down. How could it be? It happened
yesterday, and," tears flow down his cheek and he sobs, "oh the
death."

"Mark Rothman had been found dead about a week ago. His son Todd
is... was... one of my students. He and two other students, Larry
Morgan and Eric Young," shaking his head, " a violent boy, had
convened at his house. They called it a council of some sort. A
violent man," he looks around and adds in a whisper, "a psychopath,"
then clearing his throat continues, "and his homosexual lover were
with the boys. Todd and Eric blamed the psycho..., er, adult named
Frank for Mark's death."

Larry convened the Council by banging his large fist on a table,
cracking it. "Thanks guys for coming."

My students had become extremely muscular over the past month. I
think they were taking steroids. Eric had always had a bodybuilder's
build, but he seemed to triple in size and strength in a very short
period of time. Just this past week, in a fit of violence, he had
picked up my steel craft desk with one arm, lifting it to the ceiling
as if it were as light as a feather, then slammed it into the ground
and crushed it into a ball with his bare hands. I had only asked him a
simple question in class, I didn't realize... I couldn't even imagine
such muscle and power, but I digress. The boys had taken to wearing
spandex shorts and shirts that clung to their hugely muscled bodies.
They were very intimidating, and all three seemed to revel in their
powerful look. The adults too were dressed similarly. As they sat in
their council, the boys glared at the older men, flexing their muscles
in a show of power and intimidation.

"He killed my Dad," yelled Todd, pointing at the man named Frank.

"Son, I would never..."

"Don't call me son! I'm not your son! Fathers love their sons!"

"Todd," Frank stood and Larry jumped up, getting between Frank and
Todd, "you must believe me. I loved your father. I'd never do
anything to hurt him or you. You and Jake are like my own kids. Mark
and I raised you!"

"DON'T LIE TO ME. I SEE YOU DO IT! I can see it now," and Todd
started to cry. Eric put his arm around him, and Larry turned to
Todd.

"Todd, I know this is hard, but," he walked over, put his hand on his
friend's shoulder, then, in a serious tone, asked "what do you mean
you see it?"

Todd looked up, blood in his eyes. "I see it all now. It's my gift.
I see your power, your glow. I smell it and I taste it. I hunger for
it."

Frank and Joe were now moving toward Todd. There was a look of
recognition in their eyes -- recognition and fear. Eric tried to stop
them, but they brushed passed him, surrounding the young man.

"Todd," Joe said, "who gave you this gift?" He looked at Frank.
Frank showed no emotions.

"My Father," said Todd.

"But your father is dead," said Joe.

"I believe the boy refers to me," said a voice from the doorway. For
all the strength and muscle displayed by the men in the room, the man
in the doorway was far larger and more muscular. He was shirtless,
wearing only the same spandex shorts worn by the other men, though his
bulged larger in every way. His pecs were massive slabs of beef that
raised and lowered with each breath he took, causing his eight-pack
abs to ripple with obscene definition. The man's arms were huge,
larger than a world-class bodybuilder's chest. They were laced with a
network of veins that fed his muscle with life giving blood. The
spandex shorts clung to his thin waist, then stretched to cover massive
glutes, so defined that each striation was visible as he walked toward
this Council. His legs were larger than any tree trunk, displaying
convex muscles that hung over his knees like shelves. His calves were
diamonds, the muscle's hardness obvious to all.

Todd went to the man and the four others surrounded them. The
stranger stood in the center, Todd kneeling at his side, and looked at
each in turn. "Todd calls me Father, but you might know me by my
given name, Claudius. You may call me Claude," he said with a small
bow, his chin moving into void between his massive chest and his abs
flexing with perfect control to lower his torso ever so slightly.

In unison, as if some trigger had gone off, the four muscular men
jumped at Claude. With lightning reflexes that belied his massive
size, Claude swung his arms, tossing off his attackers as if they were
nothing more than insects.

"I remember a time when people were treated with respect when they
were invited guests in a person's home," said Claude, looking down at
Todd and smiling, "not attacked."

Larry got up from where Claude had tossed him, flaring his massive
body. His muscle was unmatched on the Council, but it paled to the
bulk and symmetry Claude had. He stepped forward, challenging the
man. "I know who you are. I know you kill us, but you have never met
the likes of me. Today this ends. There can only be one winner who
emerges."

Claude smiled. With slow, deliberate motion, he expanded his back.
It was like a bat spreading it's wings. The man's back muscles grew
larger, wider. He tensed his massive pecs so that thick ropes of
muscle appeared under small skin. He bent his arms at the elbow,
flexing his biceps into massive mounds and forcing his triceps into
deep, dense horseshoes. He pulled his arms in, bending slightly and
once more showing his chiseled stomach. He moved one leg forward,
flexing his quads to show a topology of high peaks and deep valleys.
His shoulders became huge round rocks below high mountains that
covered his shoulder blades and reached to his ears. He showed every
huge muscle to its maximum, all the while grinning. In a booming,
deafening voice, he said, "This is muscle, boys. There will be only
one winner, and it will be me. I will add what pathetic power you
have to my own, feeding off of it, leaving you a dead, weak husk."
Then he laughed a laugh that cut deep into any man's soul.

Larry approached. He seemed to grow larger with each step he took.
Every muscle burst into relief. The spandex could not contain the
growing mass of muscular energy, and began to tear. Larry struck the
same pose, his muscles bulging huge, only a size slightly smaller than
Claude's. He spoke, but not in his own voice. It was ethereal and
strange, with an accent that sounded Turkish. "No, Claudius. The time
of your downfall is at hand. Sons who kill their fathers must
eventually confront the Furies. No myth of your own creation about
Julius can save you now."

Claude's expression changed as if he had seen a ghost. "So, we do
live in prophetic times." He looked over Larry. "You have escaped
Hell father? No matter. Did you bring your power with you? Did you
place it in this husk?" There was no response. "No matter. I shall
have it again."

Larry stood upright and said in a calm voice, "No." He threw a
massive punch into Claude's stomach that sounded of thunder. Claude
stepped back and Joe, Frank and Eric advanced.

Todd intercepted the trio. He grabbed Eric and threw him aside,
taking the boy by surprise. He then lunged at Frank, grabbing him in
a bear hug. "This is for my Dad!" he yelled.

Suddenly, Frank screamed as if Todd's touch was like fire. Todd's
body began to expand, ballooning up and straining his clothes. At the
same time, Frank's incredible physique began to shrink, loosing size
and muscle tone. Joe ran to Frank's aid, but Todd kicked him away,
draining the strength from the man held helpless in his grasp.

Claude and Larry exchanged blows. Larry placed both fists together
and slammed them into Claude, sending the big man flying. "Todd,
stop. Claudius is lying to you." He jumped at Todd, breaking his
hold. Frank had shrunk to about half his size and fell to the floor.
Larry slapped Todd across the face. "Concentrate. See the truth!"

"He killed..." began Todd, but Larry slapped him again.

"No, he didn't!" Shouted Larry. "SEE! I COMMAND YOU SEE THE TRUTH!"

While Larry had been saving Frank and dealing with Todd, Claude
recovered. He grabbed Larry's arms and pulled them behind him,
pressing his knee into the small of Larry's massive back. "Now you
diabolic wraith, I shall vanquish you for another millennia!" He
pulled harder, then forced Larry forward, knocking him into a wall.
The house shook with the force of the impact.


Larry screamed and his body began to convulse. Claude's amazing
physique hardened, growing more powerful. Larry's body seemed to
fight back, trying to retain its size and awesome power. It was a
loosing battle. Like Frank, he began to get smaller as Claude
dominated him. "Yes..." he slithered as his body grew and
strengthened, "you do have the power of my father. So much power..."

Todd stood frozen, staring into the room. Eric and Joe had been
helping Frank, but Frank saw what Claude was doing to Larry. Even in
his weakened state, he acted the hero. He lunged at Claude, trying to
break the hold on the boy. Joe reached around the two. "Just like
before," he screamed at Frank.

Claude laughed. "So, that is how you killed my beloved. No, such
foolishness will not work on me." The two men screamed, unable to
move, stuck to Claude like with some magnetic-like force. Like Larry,
their massive bodies began to convulse and shrink. Once hard muscle
became soft. Massive size became thinner, withering into nothing,
while Claude's hulking physique continued to add more muscle. "I
taste my beloved on you. At last, I shall avenge him." Claude
smiled, his body growing as he looked at Frank weakening. The spandex
around Claude's legs snapped as his quads and hamstrings expanded. His
thin, chiseled waist became more defined, eight diamond hard ridges
with deep valleys between them.

Larry struggled but his decreasing might could not hope to overcome
the massive Claudius.

Todd remained transfixed, staring into the room, ignoring the plight
of his friends. Eric ran to Todd, grabbed him and shook. "Todd!
Todd, snap out of it. He's killing them. He's killing Larry and Joe.
We have to help them!"

A tear ran down Todd's cheek, but he didn't respond. Eric ran to Joe
and tried to pull him away. Instead, Claude reached out a foot.
Wrapping it around Eric's legs, he tripped the boy. Eric fell, and
Claude trapped him between his legs. Eric screamed and fought, but
Claude's ever-strengthening legs were more powerful. Eric's body
began to convulse. Like Claude's other prisoners, Eric was now
trapped, his power draining into the massively powerful Claude.
Claude's size was now increasing at an incredible rate as he drained
his four captives.

Slowly, Todd turned. He looked at Claude. Through his eyes, he saw
the hulking man shine with unlimited power. He was like a star that
illuminated the sky -- bright with power. Within that star, Todd saw
a black heart. He looked into the room, saw his dad's death.
However, it was not Frank killing the man, but Claude. We watched as
Claude dismembered his father, raping him, his father fighting for his
life. He watched as the echo of Claude walked to the doorway and
waved his hand, changing the shimmer, turning the echo into a lie.
Todd saw his friends growing smaller, limp and weak. Claude growing
more powerful. He ran toward them.

"NO!" Todd grabbed at Claudius's leg, which was now as thick as
Todd's own massive body. He tried to raise it, but couldn't. Eric
fought to help him, but was powerless.

"Son, I know I promised you this one to you. Once I have their power,
I will share it with you. I know how." Claude looked at Larry, the
lust for his growing power evident in his eyes. "You will never
know the feeling of so much strength. I kill you once again."

Todd jumped up and grabbed Joe, who was now limp and frail. "Joe!
Help me, concentrate!" Todd raised the man's arms up, joining with
him and wrapping them around part way around Claude's bulk.
"YOU...ARE...NOT...MY...FATHER!" said Todd, straining, exerting his
new power against his creator. "YOU...KILLED...MY...FATHER..."

Claudius's head snapped toward Todd. There was a strain on his face
as he felt the power feeding him ebb. The growth of his body began to
slow, then stopped.

"Help him, men," Frank whispered, who was now just skin and bones.
"Take back what is ours."

Each man concentrated. Claude begin to writhe, trying to push Todd
away, but Todd hung on. The men's body's began to convulse once more.
This time, however, Claude was shrinking and the other's growing.
Frank's body began to fill out. His flat chest got pecs that expanded
to their familiar massive form. Larry's swimmer's body returned to
that of a bodybuilder then larger. Joe's power returned and Eric's
expanding body now forced Claude's feet up and apart. Todd was the
conduit, sapping the strength and feeding it to his friends. Muscle
power flowed from Claude into all, driven by Todd's will. Seconds
passed, and Larry was once more Claude's equal.

"It is over son," said the voice that was not Larry's.

"Never." Claude fought, trying to regain his edge, take the power.
The strain was evident as sweat beaded on his body, then ran down the
now shrinking contours.

Eric was the first to experience the overload. His body began to
spasm and he was forced to lift Claude's leg. "Too much. It hurts!"
he cried as he jumped free, his body red and shaking.

Frank was the next to experience the overload. He hung on for nearly
a minute more, but was suddenly thrown free, muscles cramped and red.
He fell to the ground, breathing deeply as he recovered his composure.
"Damn, that's a lot of muscle power."

"Your vessels are overloaded, father. I am too powerful," said
Claude, even as his massive physique now had shrunk to the size of
Eric's and Frank's.

"No," stated Larry. "This body can take back all the power you have
stolen and more."

Joe began to shake and sweat, but he held on.

Todd watched with his new vision. He saw the giant that enveloped
Claude shrinking, closing in on the man's material body.

Larry's body continued to grow, absorbing muscle and strength. His
body pushed into Claude, Todd and Joe, forcing them out into the room.
Still, he clung to them, taking more.

Todd saw that Joe was struggling. "Force the power into Larry. He
can take it. HE MUST TAKE IT!"

Larry's body surpassed Claude's original size and continued to grow.
He looked like some superhero, all muscle and power. His eyes were
closed, a contented smile on his face, like he enjoyed the enormous
power that was filling him. The spandex that tried to cover his
muscles stretched and ripped. His shirt exploded from his body. His
pecs created a shelf that extended more than two feet over his thin
waist. His thighs were rigid ellipses of muscle than hung above a
solid knee cap. Larry continued to grin as he felt the incredible
power fill his body, changing him into the most incredible muscle god
the world has ever seen.

Todd saw the ephemeral form collapse into Claude and heard his scream.
His bodybuilder's physique shrank to a swimmer's build, then to
nothing. His arms became thin, his stomach distended as his once
might abs lost the strength to hold in his internal organs. His legs
couldn't support his body and Larry had to hold him up. His handsome
features melted to that of an old man. His hair turned gray. With a
final shudder, the life left his body. As he collapsed, his ancient
body turned to ash.

Todd and Joe stepped back and tried to take in the huge form Larry had
become. As Claude had done when he entered the room, Larry flexed his
new body into a most-muscular pose. His biceps crashed into his
massive pecs, his backs pushing his triceps forward. Each leg forced
the other aside as muscle fought muscle for room. Larry smiled at his
incredible body.

Standing upright, he said in the voice that was not his own, "It is
done. Now I can rest." Larry collapsed.

"That's when they came to me," said Cecil van Dyke. "They carried
Larry in, and each told me the story in his own words. Eric and the
psychopa..., er, I mean Frank, didn't seem to be paying much
attention. Instead, they seemed to be engaged in some competition of
strength. Frank always won. I think I heard him say to Eric, 'Should
have hung on longer, kid,' as he flexed his arm up and down, watching
the massive bicep peak high then stretch long and thick."

"When Larry woke up," Mr. van Dyke continued, "he seemed confused."

"It's all kinda blurry. I remember some of it, but the past month,
it's like I haven't always been myself."

"Do you remember fighting Claude?" asked Todd.

"Kinda," he said. He made a face, like it was coming back to him, "I
kinda remember fighting him twice. Once, he killed me, then I killed
him. Weird."

"Do you remember anything about Julius?" asked Frank.

"That wasn't his name," said Larry, looking kinda surprised that he
knew this. "No, Claudius made that all up. It was his father that he
killed. All of the man's sons had powers. Some were morphs. Some
batteries. Claudius was like a super-anti-battery -- he drained the
life from those he took power from. When he killed his father, his
brothers turned against him. It's been a blood feud ever since.
Claude didn't want us to know that -- to know that we're all brothers
-- so he created the false Tome." Larry paused, then said in a quiet
voice, "I remember one more thing. We must find the rest of Claude's
children. If they don't join us, come back into the family, we must
kill them. The feud must end. It's what he wanted."

"Larry ordered the boys to go and get the journals and bring them to
me as he told his version of the story," said Mr. van Dyke. "He told
me to keep them safe while they left to find the remaining children of
Claudius." Cecil van Dyke looked at the pages in front of them.
"They scare me," he whimpered.

Suddenly, he jumped up. "Who's there?" he screamed. In the shadows,
the form of a large muscular man is visible.

"Ric said you were fuckin' wimp," said a man's voice that has since
been identified as Frank's.

The tape ends at this point.

Obituary of Cecil van Dyke

Cecil van Dyke died in his home on October 11. The death was due to
severe trauma caused when his house exploded. Police suspect a broken
gas main was the cause. A series of explosions rocked the dwelling,
forcing it to collapse on the sleeping Mr. van Dyke. Neighbors report
hearing a series of thunderous explosions and the screams of a single
voice as the house collapsed. There are unconfirmed reports of a
solitary man of unusual muscularity walking away from the scene.

THE END

[Corwin]

yay! it's done! hope y'all enjoy it.

[viamanmax]

Yay, I love Larry.

Thank You for an excellent story that has kept me wanting more for quite a while. I do belive it is the bes Muscle Growth Story I have Ever read.