My name is Mark, and I am responsible for everything you have been reading about these past few days. I don’t
want forgiveness, I just want to use what little time I have left to get the true story out there. Maybe
somebody else can fix this, I tried to, but I failed. You probably don’t trust me, you probably want to know
where Tom is. I’ll try to tell you as much as I can and hopefully I answer all your questions and win your
trust. The changes are all true, they’ve been happening. The bros have been taking over our school. But the
man you thought was trying to warn and help you is a mad man. I would know, I used to be one of his best
friends. Tom is not who you think he is, and the story isn’t quite as he told you it was.
I’ll try to start from the beginning. Before I even came into the picture Tom had a friend named David. They
grew up together, sand box buddies or whatever sentimental tag you wanna give it. The real cutesy life long
friendship sort of thing, or not. Tom came here to this boring hole in the earth for college and David went
elsewhere. The first time apart can be hard on any couple. I joke about it, like I did back then when he
first told me but now its to loosen my own nerves. A year goes by, too much work and school to keep up but
summer comes like dawn and Tom’s glowing in the morning light. They were going to meet up, I was asked to go,
not much for borderline homos though so I didn’t. That was probably my first mistake. Tom goes, day goes by
like usual, Tom comes back. I expected to get my ear talked off about their little date, instead I saw a man
who looked like he just crawled back from Hell. I wish I had listened, tried to pay attention, helped in some
way. He was going on about how David had changed into a total ‘bro’. I just blew it off and told him that’s
what happens in college, it’s the way of the world. You get here and you leave your intelligence, childhood
dreams and other shit at the door and grab a beer. All he did was whine and go on about how this was
different, how David was different, he was such a great person etc etc and now he wasn’t. Honestly at the
time I wanted to stab myself in the ears I had no idea how much pain was festering in that fragile mind of
his.
Months went by and Tom seemed better but he was secretive, reclusive, strange even, more so then usual. I
started going through his history. This site and several others showed up. At first it was mostly CYOC and
other tf fantasy websites, then he got darker. It was hypnosis sites, magic sites, anything that promised
real tfing. Another mistake, I should’ve jumped in there, maybe it would’ve changed things. But kept going,
he got more shut in until he spent virtually every moment on his computer focused on tfs and tfing. One day I
went to his room to check on him and found him in front of the mirror dressed up. He was wearing clothes that
can only be defined as ‘broish’: a snapback, a chain, tight polo, shorts and those ugly boat shoes people wear
for some reason. This alone was pretty ridiculous but they weren’t even his size, it was like he was wearing
someone else’s clothes. He was posing, flexing and talking to himself in bro slang. I thought it was kind of
funny him acting like a total wannabe so I got out my phone and started a capture to send to some friends for
a laugh later. That was when things got really weird, Tom wasn’t just talking to himself, he was arguing. It
went something like this.
“Bro, just let me out… cmon you want it, being sexy, being loved…”
“No, no David I won’t stop doing this!”
“Too late to turn back Tommy, you’re already a bro, just look at you in my swag, like it was meant to be.”
“God what have I done? Please, please don’t do this.”
“You want this, you put it on, you figured out how to do this… you, you, you, now me.”
“This isn’t what you want.”
“Too fucking bad bro, its just what you got…”
They went on for awhile, his voice actually changing throughout the conversation. It was freaking me out as
he switched between his fake bro voice and a true deep one. Then he just went limp, his arms fell down
perfectly relaxed and his eyes glazed over. Everything slackened and it looked like he was being held up by
invisible strings as his head jerked up. I watched as he started to struggle in front of the mirror, his
veins swelled to hideous proportions and I could actually see them… pumping something through him. His arms
twisted in grotesque and impossible ways, bending and breaking as they grew longer and leaner. The muscles
squirmed as if made of liquid and built up into impressive masses along his arms, especially his biceps which
swelled to almost jockish size. His hands flopped about as if he had no bones before quickly and painfully
straightening and then beginning to extend. His fingers were almost pulled out as some invisible force
stretched them out making his hands grow. They curled into fists and relaxed, longer still as a tan spread
out from the tips of his fingers, surging inward. His hands became enveloped in sun kissed, foreign skin
which spread across his arms lightening and thickening the fuzz on them as the muscles kept growing and
molding. He let out a long gasp as his lungs drew in more air than he could hold, his chest kept rising and
pushing out and his lungs kept expanding until he perfectly fitted the polo. His pecs now a perfect shelf of
hard meaty muscle. He bent backwards in a way that made me wince, the cracking sound was so loud, so
horrible. His spine broke and lengthened, the pain had to be unimaginable. He straightened out and shrugged
as his shoulders inched out and his arms filled the sleeves to the brim. I could see the shorts filling out
to, knowing everything was happening… there, his legs becoming like his arms and his shoes bulging out a bit
as his feet shifted to fit them. His face was twisted beyond recognition, tan, masculine, the features of a
different person entirely. His eyes glowing, his hair shortening and thickening into blond curls. His chin
dropped a bit further, sharpening, his cheek bones rose up. Stubble began appearing in small patches before
becoming more uniform, overtaking his chin. It was like watching a pro photoshop on fast forward. He gave
one last look of true terror at the mirror before a big, forced looking smile appeared and he just started
laughing and laughing in a different voice. I stumbled out, accidentally sending the video.
I didn’t hear from my friends the rest of the day, they didn’t return my calls. When I next saw them, they
were bros. They sent the video to more people. The weak minded usually, nerds, geeks, the desperate to fit
in. They were easily dominated. But that wasn’t enough for the new ‘Tom.’ He started planning a big party
to change the rest of the school, he was obsessed with making everyone a bro. After seeing what just the
video could do he figured out a way to change people into bros himself. I followed him around and pieced
together his plan, watching him recruit key allies and eliminate enemies. First was his own cousin, Evan,
easily influenced and Evan had access to plenty of alcohol to supply to the party since his mom owned a store.
Then he changed his Josh, one of the school’s best DJ’s to supply music followed by one of the schools most
well connected flamers to extend his reach and get a good supply of girls to attract guys. Finally, he went
after the only thing in his way. The jocks. He crashed their party and changed all of them right in front of
me, as if daring me to try to stop him. I found this site yesterday in his history and I’ve read his posts.
I don’t think it was made up, the horror he described as he watched each change was probably real. Even
though he caused it and wanted it I think watching them made him relive his own friends change and his own
transformation. I know once I make this post he’ll know I know too much and make sure I can’t do anything
more but that’ll happen sooner or later anyway and I want the truth to get out. I need the truth to get out
so I haven’t sacrificed myself for nothing.
I hear Tom outside. He’s pounding on the door. There are others out there too, I can’t count how many. This
is it. For what its worth I’m sorry, to all of you and to Tom especially if he ever reads this and can still
even understand it.
- End.