The contest is in 12 hours. It is 7:00 A.M. and I have been sitting
here all night – staring at the beaker. All night. I look at my 200 lb.
frame in the mirror and see that my eyes are red, my body is shaking from
lack of sleep, and yet I continue to stare at the liquid and wonder. What
will it do to me? What results can I expect? What are the side effects of
taking such a large dosage? I have tried it out on several “subjects” with
incredible results – increased mass and strength, and near physical
imperviousness to any tool of destruction.
Eventually they all had to be immobilized before they did any
further damage. The condition of my lab is a testimony to their
accomplishments - total destruction everywhere. And now they exist in
suspended animation in bionic suspension chambers here in my lab - eight men
who once weighed between 120 lbs. to 200 lbs. Each was 10 lbs. heavier than
the other one was, and each was given a slightly larger dosage than the one
before. I am 22 years old, a senior in college, and I purposely chose men
who were smaller and younger than I am. The first was 14 - a high school
freshman - and the last 21 – a junior in college. All were pathetically puny
men who had been longing for more mass and size and who felt rejected by all
of the people they knew.
I researched them carefully, followed them around, watched their
habits, and found out their pathetic weaknesses. I played on those
weaknesses in my talks with them about being rejected and scorned and
totally ignored, and eventually convinced them to try the serum. No, when I
think about it, I didn’t convince them – they begged me for it! They begged
and pleaded until I LET them take it. And the results that they got were
mind-blowing! Inhuman muscle! Inhuman mass! Added height! Incredible
strength! They were like machines of destruction. They were capable of any
feat of power! I had built an army that was at my beck and call! Incredible!
Eight men who could have taken all eight world titles. Eight men no one
could beat. But it was gone now.
I walk the room, staring into each of the capsules, viewing the 25”
arms – the 60” chests – the 30” waists – the 20” necks – all 6’6” tall and
perfect. What was I going to do? The contest was in 12 hours and I had no
contestant. So what stopped ME from taking the serum myself? I knew the
answer. It was what I knew about their minds! They were all incredible
specimens but the serum had robbed them of any other thought processes
except those of destruction and mayhem. With each man I had tried to change
the formula to make him more able to control his actions; that is, except
when force was needed! With the first few it was impossible. They were
nothing but strength and muscle machines and they had no ability to control
the havoc they caused. The last four were better – more able to keep their
emotions in check.
And the last one was almost perfect! Well, that is up until this
morning when he was in the gym preparing for tonight’s event. He was to be
the next Mr. World - the next man to take the bodybuilding community by
storm. The money, the fame, the endorsements – he would be bigger than any
man that had reigned before him. It was all in the bag! He was on the table
getting his post workout rub down. The trainer told him to sit up so that
the assistants could do his arms and legs. Slowly the unbelievable mass of
muscle raised himself into a sitting position causing every muscle in his
body to flex hard. The four of them worked furiously – rubbing all of that
incredible muscle mass and trying to serve this muscle man well. As the two
men who working his arms finished the rubdown, he smiled at them, put his
hands on their necks, and slowly lifted them off of the ground! I saw it
beginning, and I was helpless to stop it. “No!” I shouted. And he ignored
me.
He held them off of the ground, their feet dangling in the air, and
smiled into their faces. Then he flexed his massive chest, let out a primal
grunt, and suddenly rammed them together – crushing their skulls. He
screamed again and released them, letting their bodies thud to the floor. He
grabbed the two men working his legs and lifted them and he stood to his
full 6’6” height. They were helpless as he walked toward the mirror and let
them watch themselves in his massive arms. He made them face the mirror,
their noses pressed up against the reflective glass. “That’s you alive,” he
said, as he made them stare into their own eyes. “And now, this is you,
dead!” Then he made his incredible 25” biceps flex into huge peaks, screamed
his horrible primal scream and smiled as he rammed the two men into the
mirror, shattering the glass. But their bodies didn’t stop there. They were
pressed INTO the wall, beyond it, and then into the concrete block that made
up the outer walls of the building! Glass continued to shatter everywhere.
They were embedded a FOOT into their bloody chambers of plaster and cinder
block and glass! A full 12 inches! He turned to the head trainer and smiled.
“Leave him alone!” I yelled as I went for the stun gun. He looked
down at Max, his faithful trainer who had prepared him night and day for
this contest, and put his hands under Max’s lats and he lifted him as easily
as if he weighed noting at all. He brought Max to his face, and the poor
trainer turned pale white. I knew the head butt was coming. It was how four
of the previous men had ended their trainer’s lives.
I set the gun on ‘high’ and crossed behind the huge man’s back. I
applied the charge to his neck and suddenly he let Max fall. He turned to
me. “Open the chamber!” I yelled to Max, and he did limped across the room
and did as he was told. The creature reached out to take me, and I somehow
managed to press the gun into his head, and the jolt dropped him to the
floor! My heart raced as Max and I struggled to encase him in the eighth
capsule. It was nearly impossible – such massive bulk and muscle!
As we closed the door, I stood breathless, scared and bewildered
about what I was going to do about the contest. “Are you all right, Max?” I
asked.
“Sure,” came the reply, “but what about the show? The money? The
prizes? Our future?”
“Let me think, Max. Leave me for a while. I’ll come up with
something. And Max, no matter what happens, remember that these men are
never to be released. There is no telling what destruction might result.
Promise me you’ll make sure of that.”
“I will, boss,” he told me, and left me in the room – a broken man. I
stared at the beaker and then suddenly reached out and swallowed the entire
contents. I gagged and sputtered and fell to the ground. It was an hour
later when I awoke.