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Hello yall! First time I post a story here I believe! For Halloween, this year, I've been working on making a transformation/growth-mystery story (based on the murder-mystery genre) and thought I could post it here if some of yall are into that! This series will have show multiple takes on masculinization, mostly about making huge, beefy and muscled bearish guys. If that's your thing and you like some story plot around the meat, here's something for you! I think I will add the next chapters on this thread, so you won't have to look around the forums for the previous instalment if needed. Without further ado, here's the prologue to the story!

***Disclaimer: the prologue does not contain sex scenes or physical changes yet, but serves as an introduction to the ten characters and to set the story context.

Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. At 10 PM, lights shut off, phones fry up, game starts and none can leave. What’s more, it seems there is one imposter among them. Can they make it out until morning? What is this “game” all about anyway?

 

~ One of Us ~
Prologue

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:00 PM ~
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The full moon forecasted on Halloween, a Saturday, promised a memorable night… if it was not for the whole pandemic thing. Halloween couldn’t just be cancelled. There could have been a tornado or an earthquake and the festivities would have still happened. Who cared for a stupid invisible virus! 

It was a mild evening by the Wrights’ house on the outskirts of Austin Town. Dimitri, a tall twenty-year-old who lifted weights daily had invited a couple of buddies for Halloween. He didn’t care for the pandemic and had the mansion by himself since his parents were out of town — he forgot exactly where. But all he cared for, in the moment, was throwing the party with his friends. He put on a cowboy hat, a checkered vest and a pair of faded jeans to look the part. The only boots he found around his home were his father’s 13s, which felt tight on the sides for his big boy ones. After all, he was two inches taller than his six-foot dad.

The mansion hall was grandiose, looking as if it came from a movie or catalogue. A big staircase sculpted into rich oak wood crept the left wall of the hall and led to the upper rooms. On the right wall, a more discreet yet still impressive staircase led down to the basement, where the theatre room and the home bar would receive the guests later during the night. Next to the last staircase, wide double doors opened on a spacious living room. A fireplace took place on the left wall, right next to a sturdy door, and under a big plasma TV. Two long couches surrounded a glass table at the centre of the room, onto which half a dozen big bowls were filled with candies and chips. Against the farther wall, a tennis table had been set up by the garage door, onto which red plastic cups had been piled.

Right next to the table, Dimitri’s best friend Asher was sitting on a stool with a beer can in hand. The 5′9″ man did not wait for other guests to show up before cracking up a beer and taking a handful of chips. He was dressed up in camo clothes and a war helmet — which consisted of a grotesquely painted bicycle helmet. The man scrolled through the song playlist in his phone, plugged into the speakers, hanging in the high corners of the room. He had created a selection of spooky and Halloween-themed song to play, but had somehow managed to either lose or erase it. To his feet under the table, Dimitri had a cooler which contained the few six-packs of beers he’s brought along for the night — probably the only six-pack thing about the bulky guy. Whereas Asher did not have abdominals to show, the bearded redhead had his own share of strength.

Asher was telling his friend the latest conquest he’s had when a loud booming car entered the driveway. The two men looked through the wide windows of the living room, noticing how more of the guests arrived. Two more men and their girlfriends walked out of the car. The two girls were the first to get out, a short yet curvy dirty blond and a tall svelte latina with jet black hair. A short man on the passenger side joined the girl of similar height while the driver, a giant although quite lanky young man, turned the ignition off and joined with the crew.

“Yo! Is that the double Js!” Asher called out through the window with a tipsy laugh, before following the host back in the hall to greet the guests.

“In the flesh and the hair!” The taller man — Sebastian Joseph — replied with a wide grin over his stubbly face, ruffling his head full of shaggy chestnut hair for effect.

The other shorter guy — Theodore James — walked with a crate full of beers, letting out an enthusiastic “got the booze” to the host. Albeit not dressed in their costumes yet, the quartet had a few bags with them, giving the impression they would change once inside.

“Need help with something, boys?” The raven-haired girl asked with a giggle.

“I do, Mathy, but I doubt your ‘tall-boi’ here would agree to share ya with me.” Asher chuckled before receiving a playful blow from giga-Seb on the shoulder.

The girls jiggled between each other at the display of rough masculinity between the guys. Theo made himself silent as he brought the beer and his backpack inside.

“Perhaps Theo might be more compliant on the deal with Jenny, though.” The womanizer grinned as he sized up the short blond.

“Don’t you dare touching my girl, bro!” Theodore shouted from the inside.

“Bro, just keep your dick in your pants.” Dimitri slapped his best friend teasingly on the back as he was taking a sip of beer, resulting in him spitting some down.

“Dude, bro! Don’t do that! You can’t waste that shit!” Asher dramatized as booze also leaked into his beard and camo vest.

In the middle of laughs, the short girl asked if there was a room where they could get changed.

“Yeah, there’s a bathroom in the corridor behind the stairs.” Dimitri pointed at the staircase. “First door to your left, girls.”

“Need some assistance, girls?” Asher joked again.

“We’ll be fine, dickhead.” Jenny rolled her eyes, although still amused. “Come on, Mathilda.”

“You’ll see, boys. Once we’ll be out, you’ll be the ones asking for our help!” The latina giggled, winking at them before following her bossy little friend.

“I’ll be waiting for that!” Asher exclaimed, grabbing his crotch for emphasis.

“Dude, have you gotten laid recently?” Sebastian elbowed the bulky womanizer.

“I did, but that pandemic thing right now is really killing my strike. Can’t believe there’s so many scared pussies around. It’s terrifying for the male race, dude.”

“Unless you’re a fag, bro!” Sebastian chuckled.

“Aww, fuck off, dude!” Asher smirked before finishing his beer. “Hmm… let me get myself another one. Or just come in and get one yourself.”

The three guys went into the living room, where Theodore was missing.

“Theo? Buddy? Where’re you at?” Dimitri called the little guy.

“I think he went for the kitchen.” Sebastian said, pulling a furry toque from the bag in his hands.

“Alright, I’m gonna check on him if he needs anything.”

Dimitri left his two friends going in the living room and went for the double doors leading to the left of the hall. He entered a large dining room with a long table that could welcome a dozen people to eat. He remembered how his mother, a judge in the federal court, used to make parties with her colleagues years ago. The expanse of the furniture in the room proved to be useful when his brother or himself invited friends over. The host walked past a second fireplace in the dining room until he reached a broad door leading into the kitchen. Right by the counter, Theodore was looking as if he was texting someone.

“Hey, dude, what are you doing?”

Theo startled at the question, not realizing someone had walked in on him. He turned around with a blush on his face and a nervous laugh.

“Hey! I… didn’t hear you walking in.”

“Bro… I know this face! Who were you talking to?” Dimitri asked with a coy grin, lowering his voice.

“No one!” Theo brushed off, storing his phone back into his pocket and proceeding to store some food and booze in the fridge for later tonight.

“Your call, dude!” Dimitri lifted his hands in acceptance. “C’mon and get your ass in the room with the boys! Let’s get this party going!”

Right on cue, Asher’s spooky music started blowing through the speakers of the living room. As they joined Asher and Seb, the two men were just starting a beer pong game. Seb had put on the toque on his head and a plaid jacket on top of his now naked chest. The lanky giant had a few sparse chest hair and a meagre treasure trail, but little to no definition whatsoever. To complement the look, he even had an axe which he let by the couch for the moment.

“Hope you don’t mind the view, guys!” Sebastian mocked by faking a striptease.

“You’re such a dork, Seb!” Theo guffawed at the ridicule of his friend.

“Hey, not my fault if no one can resist me! Remember that gay dude in High School, guys?”

“That was fucking hilarious!” The short guy laughed at the memory.

“SUP, BITCHES!” A voice echoed from the hall.

The crew turned around and greeted with enthusiasm the arrival of a new party member. Already wearing his costume, Wesley entered the place like he owned it. The man was wearing old ratty and torn clothes as well as a puffy hat. His face looked even paler than usual and large dark circles surrounded his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in ages.

“What are you dressed as, my old Wes?” Sebastian asked with a toothy grin, welcoming him with an arm around the shoulders. “A tramp?”

“Funny one, Seb! Nah, I’m more like an undead or zombie kinda thing. Or a Frankenstein, whatever.”

“Actually, Frankenstein is the scientist and not the monster.” Theodore intervened. “I doubt you meant the—…”

“Ahh shut up, nerd. You know who I’m talkin’ about.” Wes spited in annoyance.

“Hey, play cool, guys.” Dimitri chuckled. “Say, how about we play some beer pong?”

“Well, I think I’m gonna take a shit while you’re debating what you’re gonna do.” Asher said.

“That’s fucking nasty, dude!” Seb grimaced and chuckled at the same time.

“Guess you’ll have to take the downstairs one, dude. The bitches are taking their sweet fucking time here.” Dimitri said, just loud enough so that the girls in question could hear his comment.

“Tie a knot with your dicks if you can’t wait, fuckers!” They heard back from the bathroom, probably from Jennifer.

“Are we having some single ladies tonight?” Wes asked with a devious grin plastered on his face, idly rubbing his crotch.

“Apparently not, bro.” Asher sympathized with a shoulder pat as he walked past him.


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:30 PM ~
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It was pretty annoying how, despite the good insulation of the house, Larry could still hear the noise of his big brother’s party upstairs. With the pandemic stuff going on, he would have thought he could just spend a nice calming night playing videogames just as he always does. Oh well. The six-foot eighteen years old stretched into his gaming chair, dropping his Xbox controller on his lap. While he used to be a regular gym goer, the pandemic had benefited him and his brother with buying gym equipment. Well, it was their parents who actually paid, but that was beside the point. Between gaming and working out, Larry had grown a more athletic shape without even needing to leave the house. Sure, he wanted to eventually achieve thick proportions like Dimitri, who could almost pass for a bodybuilder now, but he believed he’d get there sooner or later.

“Yo! Lar!” A voice boomed into the room as the door barged opened.

The young man jumped with surprise at the sudden outburst. He turned around, mostly nude except from an old stained pair of boxer shorts covering his junk. There, in the entrance, stood Asher, booze in hand, laughing.

“Phew! Glad I didn’t barge into you whacking off again!” The trickster exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out!” Larry snapped, beet red.

Larry grabbed onto the first object he didn’t value much — an empty beer can — and threw it at his brother’s friend, who closed the door just in time. The gamer heard the man step away, still laughing. His heartbeat was still high, but Larry was calming down. He turned back to his station and tried changing games, only to remember his account had been suspended from Fortdey.

“Guess I’ll just play some Olah Reach.” The teen shrugged, scratching at the rough stubble he had not shaved in days.


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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 7:45 PM ~
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“How do I look?” Mathilda asked to her friend as she applied the makeup.

“You’re looking like a queen.” Jennifer complimented, finally stepping and showing her the result.

The Latina beamed with joy at her display in the mirror. She looked just like Cleopatra. As for her shorter pal, she had disguised herself with a little white dress and brought her hair into a green flowery bulb on top of her head. Pink heels, transparent wings and a rooty wand complemented her appearance as a forest fairy.

“Ready to show off to the boys?” Jennifer enticed.

“You bet your ass, girl!”

“Let’s get a round of salute!”

“Heeeere we coooome!” Mathilda announced to the guys as they walked out into the lobby.

Crossing the hall into the living room, the chicks were greeted with a series of wolf whistles and acclamations. Since the moment they entered the bathroom, a few more guests had joined the party. In addition to Wes, two more men had arrived.

One of them was Braxton, an ex-neighbour of Dimitri, who moved before High School. Tall and wide-shouldered, he was almost matching Dimitri’s body builder size at about 250 pounds. Member of the football team back then, and again in college, Braxton had decided against all originality to disguise himself as a footballer for Halloween.

“Talk about original, huh, Brax?” Jennifer snarked.

“That’s because you’ve not seen anything yet, little girl.” He chuckled, removing his helmet.

Right under the headwear, the sportsman had apparently covered his face in makeup to look like some werewolf. He had even added pointy ears and fake fangs to complement the disguise.

“Wow! I must say I’m surprised you actually put some effort in your costume.” Mathilda nodded.

“Hmm, yeah, I agree.” Her friend approved.

“Now, does any of you wants to play with the big wolf on campus? Grrrr!” The jock joked as he acted the part.

“Only if you want me to turn you into a cute puppy!” Jennifer said with a smile, raising her wand to playfully poke the footballer’s nose.

“Oh! Turn him into a cat! It would look great with my costume!” The Cleopatra giggled along.

“You girls are helpless!” The last guest spoke, disguised as Captain America.

With his blond hair and chiselled jaw, devoid of any, the man actually looked like the Steve Rogers from the Marvel comics. Albeit a little shorter than the canon superhero, the second jock was still taller than average at 5′11″ and he depicted a stature that testified countless hours dedicated to the gym.

“Victor! It’s been so long since I last saw you!” The short fairy exclaimed.

“Victor?! Damn, dude, what are you on?! Tell me that’s part of the costume!” Mathilda gasped, putting a hand on her chest as she observed the massive bulk threatening the sleeves to tear.

“That’s all me, ladies!” Victor laughed with his loud rich voice, flexing a bicep for evidence.

The girls could almost hear in their head the seams about to rip as he tensed the enormous arm, unfortunately inaudible through the booming music.

“I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard, you see, babes?”

“You can show off all you want, bro, but you ain’t got nothing on these guns!” Braxton chimed in, pushing his longtime friend aside to flex.

“At least I’ve still got abs, bro!” Victor scoffed at him by shaking the soft midsection.

“Put your faggy hands away, bro! It’s padding for the field!”

“Sure, bro. Sure. Just be careful so that I don’t mistake you for a bear next time we go hunting, bro!”

The two teasing jocks gave each other a few hits before erupting with laughter. However, when they turned around to see the girls, they had since long left them to their silly talk. They had joined in with Dimitri to play beer pong — their boyfriends nowhere to be found. The two meatheads exchanged a wolfish grin and went after the two women, intent on playing a few drinking ones with them.


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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 9:15 PM ~
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Settled in the study, Sebastian and Wesley had been smoking and relaxing aside from the main events of the party, taking some time to catch up. Ever since Wesley has moved district with his parents as a teen, the two of them hadn’t seen each other as much as they used to in elementary school. They ended growing up in quite different neighbours. While Sebastian had lived in a middle-class environment, Wesley had been subjected to a rather lower one. Sebastian never really knew why Wes’s folks relocated there, but suspected they might have struggled financially. The roughness of these new surroundings perhaps contributed to Wes becoming reckless and carefree in the last couple weeks, such as starting taking and exchanging drugs and booze. Nonetheless, he was still Sebastian’s old friend and the tall lad just simply couldn’t forget the strong bond they’ve built up many years ago.

The two men were chilling peacefully when the door to the study opened by Theodore, dressed as a wizard with a blue robe and hat. The short pal had put on a ridiculous fake white beard, but had it off in his hands, the material itching him after a while. Even if he wasn’t fond of having his glasses daily — usually opting for contacts — Theo had decided to put on the nerdy eyewear his parents shamefully bought him a couple months ago, before the pandemic happened.

“There you are, guys!” Theo blurted out. “We were looking for you everywhere! Well, technically, I was the one who… whatever. Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Whether you in or out, just close the damn door!” Wes grumbled.

Theo blushed red and shut it after stepping inside. Already, the strong aroma of weed hit his nose. The smell didn’t disgust him, but he couldn’t help being rational about it.

“Guys, you know that thing fries your brain cells, right?”

“Doesn’t take any to say you’re an annoying little twat.” The drug addict chimed.

“Hey, hey…” Seb spoke before the tension arose — he pulled the handmade fag from his mouth and offered it to his standing pal by the door. “Take it and sit down with us, bro.”

Imitating an obedient puppy, Theo bowed his head down slightly in submission and listened to Seb’s command like an order. After Theo sat and brought the joint to his lips, taking a puff. Wesley glared at his childhood friend, unhappy with Seb’s decision to hand out his weed stash to anyone.

“There, buddy. Chill a bit with us, alright, pal?” Seb smirked as he rolled himself another fag on the old walnut desk.

“Dude! Don’t you go giving my stuff to everyone here tonight, bro!” Wesley vocalized.

“Calm down, Wes. That’s my little buddy Theo and I love him to death! No homo, tho, bro!” Seb chuckled as he lighted the new cig.

“You’re so gay, dude.” Theo rolled his eyes.

“Good thing Dimi’s a cowboy tonight.” Wesley added, setting back in the leather chair behind the computer desk. “If we’ve got a fag slipping in, that gun might have some use.”

“Dude, that’s not a bit radical?” Theo frowned. “Don’t get me wrong — I don’t approve of their lifestyle choice, but we kinda need these guys in society too.”

Wesley gave him a dark eye. He aggressively took his beer can on the expansive desk.

“Name me one thing this garbage is good for.” He spitted out of spite.

“Well… I kinda need someone to make my coffee at McDonald’s.” Theo sniggered. “And that means more girls for us.”

The scorn on the drug addict’s face shifted into a scary smile as he burst into laughter.

“Dude! Seb, is that the Theo guy you talked about?”

“In the flesh!” Sebastian gestured like a show master.

“I guess you were right. Even nerds can be funny sometimes. Maybe there’s hope for the male race after all!”


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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 9:45 PM ~
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A party wouldn’t just be one without playing flip-the-cup. Braxton and Victor had both removed their headwear to facilitate the downing of their beer cups against the two girls with whom the competed. Mathilda now used her majestic faux-golden staff more like a cane rather than an artifact for her costume — she barely could stand anymore. Jennifer, on the other hand, had better alcohol retention, but she kept jiggling and spilling beer on the sticky table and floor. The hair she had earlier shaped into a beautiful flower bulb had lost it dynamism and now looked like a greenish muffin top.

While the girls were winning another round against the jocks, Asher and Dimitri just arrived on the first floor, having dragged up a foosball table from the home bar downstairs. The guys walked across the hall into the living room where the heart of the party was beating full mast.

“Foosball time!” Dimitri and Asher shouted in chorus before bursting into laughter like a buffoon duo.

The call was hyping the guests enough that even the smoking trio in the study left their cave to join in the fun. The games started as teams of two, until Mathilda had the brightest idea in the world and everyone held on to only one rotator, making sides of four instead. It was crowded and people kept bickering and shoving each other out of the way, but it provided a lot of fun nonetheless. As a good host, Dimitri gave his place to his eight guests until Wesley grew bored with the game and lie back on one of the couches.

Mathilda was questioning herself about her idea when a repetitive soft tug in her hair starting annoying her. She thought her hair had tangled into her costume, but when she turned around, she met with a white ghostly face screaming at her. Her shriek made everyone look for her and begin to laugh as the Latina slipped on the wet floor and fell on her ass.

Right behind her stood a tall person dressed in robes as dark as night, with the mask of Ghostface, holding in a knife in its hand. The figure was soon grabbed into a headlock by Dimitri, then Braxton, the three of them slipping on the ground as well. The two brutes had the stalker under control until they also heard the laughs coming from underneath the costume.

“You should have seen her face!” The voice guffawed.

“Larry? What the fuck, bro!” Dimitri exclaimed in shock, but soon after joined in the laugh.

The two men on top of him moved and the host took his little brother’s hand to help him back up. Mathilda, embarrassed to no end, snapped with anger, failing to stand by keeping on slipping on the beer-covered floor.

“You’re such a creep!” She pestered at him, red with humiliation.

Jennifer tried pulling her back up via the Egyptian staff — while her boyfriend was laughing out loud — but the two girls ended falling on top of each other.

“Jenny — ouch! Seb — DO SOMETHING! You, fucker! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna kill you ALL! All of you!”

“Alright, alright.” Sebastian complied, walking to help his lover up.

“That was a good one, bro!” Dimitri approved, giving Larry a brotherly slap on the back. “Though you should run away while you can!”

“I was just coming to get a few snacks before my raid.” Larry pulled his mask off, beaming a content smile.

“Well, you—…”

Lights went off abruptly. Music faded into nothingness. Total darkness invaded the space. The surprised cries and exclamations were absorbed into the thick void surrounding the party members. Dimitri tried to bring back the attention to him when, out of a sudden, the fireplace lightened by itself, diffusing a dimmed orange hue to the vast living room.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Dimitri blurted out in confusion.

“HELLO.”

A distorted voice echoed from the corners of the room and from within each present individual. The first one to take his phone out was Theo, who attempted to use its flashlight. Only then did he realize his screen looked glitched out — the alien sound came from its small speakers.

“What… guys! My phone’s bugged!”

“Fucking hell?! Mine too!” Braxton added before the distorted voice spoke again.


“Tonight is not like any others. The ten of you gathered here is no mere coincidence. Each of you, to an extent depicted examples of homophobic bigotry against people, which lead to the self-destruction and suffering of poor, weaker-minded individuals.”


“Where the fuck are you?” Seb asked aloud, taking in his hands the axe he’s left by the couch earlier. “Show yourself!”

The voice continued:


Braxton Bellman — your jealousy against Richard Biggs making the football team only fuelled your homophobic bigotry to kick him out. But the school wouldn’t let him out because he was the best player. So, you made sure to ‘accidentally’ have his leg broken so that he couldn’t play on the team anymore. Did that bitter win in your hollow head made up for all the further matches your team lost?

Victor Fortune — whilst you confidently say you are a handsome fuck machine, you had often pushed back the advances of numerous people because of their skin colour or orientation. You never miss a chance to proudly display your confederation flag to show much of a white suprematist you are. You used your straight white cis male privileges to influence many peers as the representative student in school, disrespecting whoever didn’t share the same traits as yours.

Theodore James — you do not exert physical violence to assert your intolerance, but you rather attack psychologically your victims. The shameful names and stereotypes you call them instead of the proper ones make them all the more vulnerable to others who would act brutally.

Sebastian Joseph — in any room you go, you attract anyone’s eyes. You are the tall, charismatic, person any man or woman would love to spend a good time with. However, this handsome shell of yours hides a dark soul. In pure malice, you used your good looks to flirt with Henri Thompson, just to play him out as a whole joke in front of the school. That man still is afraid to date anyone today.

Mathilda Lopez — instead of sympathizing with your ex-boyfriend Greg when he confided you with his bisexuality, you acted like the worst bitch ever. Not only you broke up with him, but you leaked multiple personal pics of him on social media, shaming him for his sexual orientation as well, resulting in having him brutalized and sent to the ER. He is still in the coma to this day.

Wesley Peterson — you are a dropout and a thug who doesn’t give a damn about anyone other than himself. You vandalized Oliver McClay’s car and locker with graffiti in High School, showing the world that he was homosexual. Know that Oliver McClay took his own life a month after changing school.

Asher Ship — your homophobic bigotry against your younger brother Ken has led him into clinical depression. This led him to grow overweight and develop paranoia. He even tried to take his own life numerous times, almost succeeding more than once. It’s a miracle of sorts if he is still alive today.

Jennifer Taylor — nobody can confide you anything. When Roger Mayer shared you his biggest secret that he was a homosexual, you betrayed him and told others. No longer a mystery, Roger’s parents eventually heard about it, making his life as miserable at home as he’s had it at school. Say, when was the last time you talked with Roger? Were you even his friend?

Dimitri Wright — host of the night, you clearly selected your guests carefully. Your fingers probably don’t make up for the number of wedgies you’ve given those homosexuals and intellectuals in school. You’re a leader, but you used your diplomatic gifts to bully others rather than implementing justice. Perhaps it’s time to turn the tables?

Finally, Larry Wright — just like your brother Dimitri, you have deeply rooted homophobia. If you come across a gay guy in your Fortdey servers, you don’t hesitate to shame and tag them, taking mischievous pleasure in bashing and blackmailing them. Sucks when the servers suspend your account for inappropriate actions, does it?”


A hard-felt silence weighed on the ten young adults, to which Wes blurted out: “So fuckin’ what?!” before being hushed at.


“Now that your facets are displayed on the table, let’s play a little game, shall we?

If you can make it intact by six in the morning, I will let you go. Oh, but we can’t allow cheater, don’t we? No one can leave the house grounds. No electricity, no data. Cheating or sleeping through the night will immediately result in a person losing.

Also, let’s spice things up a bit. Anyone who loses can make others lose as well. Among the ten of you, there is one who knows what’s going on — an imposter of sorts. Will you find who fakes this out? Finding it out might make you win earlier than sunrise, but a wrong answer will result in another loss.

Good luck.”


The speakers shut, and so did all their phones — batteries fried up.

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Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. The Game has started. Opinions and ideas diverge. They separate into three groups. They separate even further until most of them are alone by themselves… when IT strikes.

 

~ One of Us ~
Chapter 1 — Gagged

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 10:10 PM ~
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The bewilderment of the party members left them speechless for a few seconds. The sound of the crackling fire filled up the agonizing silence for a few moments as Theodore frustratingly tried to reopen his phone. There was nothing to do — the battery was dead. Asher was the first to actually do something.

“HA! Who set this all up? This ain’t funny, not at all! This is borderline creepy!” The redhead shouted.
 
“Did you set this up?” Dimitri turned at his junior, shaking his shoulders aggressively.

“Fuck off, bro! I have a fucking raid in five minutes! Why in hell would I even shut the breaker! My station! Fuck!” The younger brother cried in despair as he tried pulling free from Dimitri’s grip.

“You don’t go anywhere!” Dimitri ordered, roughing him up before turning to the other people in the room. “WHO did this?!”

“Calm down, Dimitri.” Sebastian spoke.

“I can’t!” He retorted, grabbing onto the shotgun he used with his cowboy costume. “If someone’s gonna crash my party, I’m gonna make him regret being born!”

“Dude, you’re overreacting…” Theo managed to say before he heard the charging of the gun.

“Don’t you dare telling me I’m overreacting!” The host vociferated. “Someone comes here, shuts down the music and the party, then humiliates each one of us by telling how much of a dick we apparently are?! That screams like some fucking set up!”

“Let’s just think a minute, dude!” The short wizard said, raising his arms to appease the tension. “Where’s the breaker?”

“In the basement.” Both brothers answered at the same time.

“All of us — all ten of us — were here when the current shut down! That means…” He exclaimed.

“That means… that none of us could have done the blackout, right?” Braxton said, his mellow voice ebbing down with the question.

“Exactly.” Theo nodded.

“Then… that also means… there should be someone downstairs.” Asher deducted.

“That’s pathetic.”

All eyes turned to Wesley, lying on the couch by the fire, another fag between his lips. The makeup on his face made him actually look even more like an undead person under the dim light.

“Why do you say that, Wes?” Jennifer asked.

“The voice, the blackout… all of you, even!” The stoner sighed, shaking his head. “If that guy tried to make us feel bad for what we did, he ain’t done nothing on me.”

“Dude… the guy you bullied actually KILLED himself!” Asher blurted out in astonishment.

“One less fag in the world — that’s for the better if you ask me.”

“Whatever, dude.” The beer-bellied marine muttered, before turning to Dimitri. “We should go check on the breaker, man.”

“And check how? We don’t have any lights!” Dimitri reminded them.

“Are we sure all our phones are dead?” Victor asked.

One by one, each of them attempted to use their own mobiles, but to no avail. Apparently, the one who set them up had somehow taken care to limit their resources in some sick way.

“But… my phone was new!” Jennifer cried, trying to turn it back on, tears welling in her eyes. “I really hope this fucker didn’t break my phone!”

“Wait! I’ve got an idea! My charger is in the bathroom!” Mathilda spoke, attempting to walk, but feeling woozy after the earlier fall and the alcohol kicking in.

“Mathy, babe, there’s no current.” Sebastian reminded her, with a smirk she could barely see in the shadows.

“Huh? Oh… right.”

“Wow. Good job, Mathy!” Victor chuckled at her, unconsciously posing and flexing.

“Shut up! I’m just tired, that’s all!” She fumed, rubbing her hurting side from when she fell earlier.

“That’s what she said!” Braxton and Victor shot in unison before laughing.

“Do you have any flashlights in here, anywhere, Dimi?” Sebastian asked.

“I think there’s one or two in the basement, actually.” Larry answered first, scratching his head.

“Yeah, that, and there’s some oil lanterns in the shed from when we were camping.” Dimitri added.

“Do you guys have candles too?” Jennifer inquired.

“Now that you mention it — there’s candles in the pumpkin decorations in the hall, right, Dimi?” Asher remembered.

“That’s right! Okay, here’s the plan: I’ll grab one of those and head downstairs to check on the breaker.” Dimitri stated. “Larry and Wes, could you guys get in the shed outside for the lamps and bring them inside in case we need them?”

“No way I’m going into that shed! I’d rather check on my stuff first! If someone’s in the basement, I don’t want anyone to steal my stuff!” Larry refused.

“It’s the thing past the pool, right?” Sebastian asked. “I could head there, I think I’ve seen them before. They’re the metal ones with the creaky handles, right?”

“I’m not going.” Wesley rejected, not even looking at them, lying lazily on the couch, his dirty boots on the cushions.

“What now?” Dimitri sighed in exasperation.

“You guys can do whatever you fucking want, I’m not taking part in any of this.”

“Dude, what the fuck!” Sebastian frowned at his carefree stoner friend.

“This is all the big joke of some fuckin’ queer who thinks can outsmart us by making us feel sorry for him. Not takin’ any part in this lame-ass stupid game, no thanks. No shame, no regrets in my actions.”

“I gotta agree with Wes on that.” Victor complied. “This looks like just a fag trying to make fun of us.”

“Dude, if you’re gonna stay here too, I think I’ll stick here as well.” Braxton smirked at his buddy Victor.

“Whether it’s true or not, we gotta put the current back on or else that’s the end of the night. I don’t know about you, guys, but 10 PM is pretty early to end the party!”

“Alright, who goes where, now? I’m lost.” Mathilda admitted, looking at them, hoping for a simple answer.

“Look, I’m gonna check on the breaker downstairs.” Dimitri said.

“I’m coming with you.” Asher added, seconded by Larry who also wanted to check on his belongings.

“Theo, are you coming with me?” Seb asked his short buddy.

“Yeah, sure.” Theo shrugged.

“Umm… if we’re gonna stay alone in the dark with Brax, Wes and Vic, I think, we’ll come with you too, guys.” Jennifer spoke, gesturing herself and Mathilda to their boyfriends.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared a wolf might eat you? Aroo! Aroooo!” Braxton teased.

“Wouldn’t you feel safer with Captain ’Murica, girls?” Victor enticed, flexing both biceps in the light of the fireplace for the girls.

“On second thought—…”

“C’mon, Mathy, let’s join our boys!” Jenny pulled Mathilda away, following their boyfriends heading for the hall.

After the brothers and Asher each took a basketball-sized illuminated pumpkin from the entrance, they parted ways with the inseparable quartet, leaving the stoner and the two jocks in the living room.

 

~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 10:30 PM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


“You should have gone with Seb instead, Lar.” Dimitri told him as the trio walked down the stairs.

“Bro, if there’s someone who’s touched my stuff, I’m gonna cut his hands myself.” Larry murmured, showing his knife for emphasis.

“Yeah, but Dimi’s got a gun, Lar. He would have been good with any intruder.” Asher insisted.

On the bottom floor, Dimitri, leading the way, opened the wide wooden door and the trio proceeded into the main room — the theatre room. It was supposed to be used later that night for a Halloween movie marathon after midnight, but the sharp turn of events made that plan very unlikely. The light of the pumpkin didn’t diffuse much into the place, giving their peripheral vision a rather limited radius. The few seating rows that would face the gigantic TV on the farther left wall should have been only a few feet away — and yet, they barely showed in the dimmed room.

Somewhere in the basement, a door suddenly closed loudly, eliciting a jump scare from the younger brother.

“Gee, calm the fuck down!” Dimitri whispered to his junior in annoyance.

“Not so much of a man after all, huh?” The redhead teased.

“Fuck you, guys!”

At the bottom of the stairs, the trio looked around for any clue, even if just hearing somebody walking. Yet, nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. No sound, no sight… just an eerie coolness lingering in the darkness.

“Where did you think that came from?” Asher asked with a low voice.

“From the breaker room, obviou—…”

SLAM.

Another door slammed shut, on the opposite side of the basement. And a new one across the theatre room. Finally, the massive wooden one right behind them closed drastically.

“What’s going on?!” Larry panicked, holding onto his knife for dear life.

“Shut it, Lar!” Dimitri snapped, putting the pumpkin down and aiming his shotgun at the omnipresent darkness.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His brother snarked back. “This doesn’t look much like a prank anymore! There’s some paranormal shit going on!”

“You’ve been playing too many games, Lar.” Dimitri asserted.

“Yeah, I think you’re exaggerating, dude.” Asher supported.

“How do you explain the fire in the fireplace, then? The voice taking over our phones? The doors slamming shut on their own? They’re talking about a stupid game, but what if someone — something! — is just trying to kill us one by one?!”

“Alright, bro, I’ve had enough of this! Go back upstairs and sit by the fireplace, you pussy!”

Dimitri walked for the door leading back upstairs to show his brother the way… only to realize it was jammed and wouldn’t open.

“What the heck…?”

Another door slammed shut by the bedrooms. This time, even Dimitri turned to the guys and his confident face shattered to appear stunned.

“Look, guys… we don’t know for sure what’s going on, but we gotta chill out!” Asher suggested.

“I can’t chill out or even think with you guys around! I feel like you two are driving me crazy!” The host exclaimed, repressing his own apprehension by blaming them. 

“Dude…” The redhead sighed and shook his head. “Maybe YOU should go back upstairs and let us check in on the breaker.”

“The door… wait, no. I can’t.” Dimitri’s confidence surged back as he realized he had his shotgun in his firmly clenched hands. “I’ve got the gun. If anyone’s got to check it out, it’s me.”

The host looked at them, taking deep breaths, mentally preparing himself at whom or what could possibly play a prank on them.

“Here’s the plan: you two, stay here and find a way to get back upstairs. If the door’s really jammed, just use the door out from the Atelier. And if you hear a gunshot, or hear me yell, be prepared. Dad’s got another gun under his bed on the second floor.”

“Dude, if you think I’m gonna leave you alone, you’re dreaming!” Asher said, offended.

“Ash, you’re drunk and can barely keep yourself up! Plus, it’s my house! If anyone’s gonna crash into my house, it’s my duty to make them pay!”

“It’s my house too, bro.” Larry interjected.

“Shut it, Lar. Stay and check if anyone passes or go back upstairs, that’s up to you.”

With that said, Dimitri, placing the light under his arm, went off to the left in the direction of the breaker room, shotgun in hand. As he opened a door and disappeared into darkness, the sound of a door slamming shut resounded once more.

“This isn’t right… this can’t be happening…” Larry muttered to himself, hitting his head with the pumpkin since he couldn’t free his hands.

“Drunk my ass!” Asher snarked as he looked at the paranoid brother. “I’m definitely not gonna play the babysitter!”

Asher downed the rest of his beer and threw the empty can away. Holding his light source under his other arm, he took a deep breath and started following his friend’s steps.

“Where are you going?” Larry asked the drinker.

“You said you wanted to go check on your things, so, go on. I’m gonna find your stupid ass brother and teach him a thing or two.” The redhead said before letting out a loud and long belch echo in the darkness.

“Wait, Asher! We… I don’t think we should split up!”

“Fuck off, dude. This ain’t some Scooby-doo mystery shit.” Asher groaned as he waddled after Dimitri.

The fire of his pumpkin alone didn’t light much, but it’d suffice by the time he’s caught up with his buddy. Left by himself, Larry faced a dilemma between going back to safety upstairs or inspect his room. The mansion’s basement was large; yet he knew his way around well. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel some malevolent presence in the thick darkness suffocating him. In the end, clutching the pumpkin close to him, he decided to check on his belongings, knife in hand, in case anything went wrong.


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 10:30 PM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


The full moon in the sky proved to be helpful when the two couples countered the house and crossed the backyard. Otherwise, Sebastian, the leader of the group, might have stumbled and fallen into the pool on the way. Not that a midnight skinny-dipping was out of idea, but he didn’t feel like this was the perfect moment. The air was chilly, colder than the young adults were used to — they wouldn’t be surprised to see snow falling down.

“Guys, how about we just call it a night and head home?” Mathilda proposed, yawning.

Sebastian, leading the way turned toward his girlfriend and offered her a considerate smile. The previously energetic Cleopatra seemed to have aged a good thirty years, agonizingly walking with her staff like an elderly woman. The other couple didn’t seem as gauntly as Mathilda, but the sugar and alcoholic buzz had definitely worn out.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually.” Jennifer seconded, watching on her drowsy friend.

“You girls could have stayed with the guys inside.” Sebastian offered, resuming his walk with a slower gait.

“Oh, hell no!” Jennifer refused, stopping momentarily in their tracks. “I do not trust these guys one minute!”

“Wes would not hurt you.”

“I dunno. He might not defend us either.” The short girl shrugged, kneading her friend’s back to cheer her up. “But still, feels kinda good to take a walk right now.”

Just then, the Cleopatra started retching, leaning forward onto her majestic shaft before puking on the grass the alcohol excess.

“Eww! Gross!” Theo chuckled, stepping back dramatically.

“Are you alright, babe?” Seb asked her, approaching her for comfort.

The sickness episodes lasted a few minutes, the three friends staying near her for support. If the boys inside expected them back soon, they’d have to wait.

“Do you want water or aspirin?” Jenny offered. “I’ve got some if you need any.”

The weakened woman nodded and was handed the water bottle. While they waited, the lumberjack looked around. The events that had just occurred in the living room still haunted him. Since then, a relentless superstition of being observed nagged the back of his mind. And yet, all he could see in the distance were infinite shadows feeding on the faint moonlight. 

“I hope the shed ain’t locked.” Theodore wondered aloud, breaking Sebastian’s train of thought.

“Actually, you should have asked Dimi before we get all the way here, Einstein.” The lumberjack sighed, immediately regretting not asking either.

“Should I go back?” Theo proposed, looking at the two women whispering to each other.

“If we’re gonna have to walk all the way back inside, we’re leaving.” Mathilda grumbled, slowly standing back up.

“We’re almost there. Let’s check first.” The lumberjack sighed, growing irritated by the obnoxious attitude of his tipsy girlfriend.

All back on their legs, the quartet resumed its stroll toward the shed. When Seb had asked Dimitri for directions, he had a good idea of where to look for. However, the walk he thought would be short and sweet proved to take longer than anticipated, somewhat turning into a trek or an expedition. They had passed the pool earlier and were still on the lookout, following a trail between some trees until they finally made it to the destination.

The shed was not small by any means, almost the size of a modest garage. The door was, as a matter of fact, locked by a padlock. Before Mathilda complained about having to go back once more, Sebastian grasped tightly around his axe, lifted it and hit the padlock, breaking it.

“Here. No need to get back inside.” He dismissed as he showed the way with a smug grin.

“Dimi’s gonna kill you for that, bro.” Theo chuckled.

“Kill me over a lock? C’mon dude. I’ll buy him another one at the dollar store.” Seb rolled his eyes.

Stepping inside, however, made the quartet realize the moon didn’t light up their surrounding anymore. Only a small window above a wooden table by the right wall illuminated the interior.

“You said you remembered where the lanterns were, right, Seb?” Theo asked, having a hard time to adjust to the darkness, his glasses not helping in the slightest.

“I know what they look like, but I don’t remember where they are.”

“Usually, people hang them up on hooks or leave them on shelves, no?” Jenny suggested.

“That’s a mission for giga-Seb, then.” Theo teased, elbowing him.

“Alright, I’ll let you know if I hit my head on anything.”

“Guys, this is sooo boring.” Mathilda railed once more. “We can’t even see shit.”

“Hey, do you still smoke, Mathy?” Theo asked, hoping she’d have a lighter on her.

“No, my coach told me I had to stop if I wanted to continue gymnastics.” The Cleopatra sighed dramatically. “But wait, is the shed on the same electric line as the house?”

“Mathy, babe, you’re a genius!” Her lumberjack boyfriend beamed with glee.

“Took you long to realize.” The diva giggled.

Sebastian grabbed a dangling cord by the door and pulled on it, a bulb suddenly illuminating the room. Flooded with light, the storage finally revealed itself. To their right, the desk beneath the window was littered with various cans, bottles and clothes. On their left, many shelves lined up the wall, mostly covered with pool and camping equipment. On the farthest wall, metallic cabinets took place next to a massive red toolbox.

“So… it is on a different breaker!” Jenny spoke. “Mathy, you should have brought your charger with you!”

“Actually, it’s not.” Theo stopped after trying the interruptor. “The switch is not working. I guess the light bulb is relying on a battery rather than electricity.”

“Oh. Well, whatever.” Mathilda shrugged.

After only a few seconds before, Jennifer pointed out the lanterns — all three of them — on the upmost shelf on the left wall, next to paint buckets.

“That didn’t take long!” Seb cheered, reaching for them without a stool. “And you were right, Jen!”

“She always is, even when it sucks!” Theo teased, wrapping an arm around her waist before receiving a playful blow in the tummy.

After Sebastian retrieved the oil lanterns and placed them on the table, Theo suggested they look after a lighter and a bottle of oil in case they needed to refill them. While the boys searched for the missing tools on the shelves, Jennifer investigated the cabinet. Mathilda, even sleepier than she was earlier, pulled the old worn bench from under the table and sat on it while waiting for her companions.

“Guys, you won’t believe what I found!” Jenny exclaimed with hype.

“You found old porn mags?” Sebastian asked with a chuckle, shared with his friend.

“No, you maniac! Wow! It even works! I found a flashlight! And walkie-talkies! There’s even a radio!”

The forest fairy turned around, pulling an old cardboard box from the bottom shelve of the cabinet and dropping it on the table. Swishing the cloud of dust away, Jennifer looked into the treasure box.

“For real! Sounds too good to be true!” Theo approached her, wrapping her in his arms from behind, kissing her on the nape.

“Ah! Theo!” She giggled, squirming into his embrace. “Keep that for when we’re alone!”

“Yo, get a room, you two!” Mathilda sighed.

Her boyfriend let go of her, chuckling himself, and looked at her findings. Sebastian joined in and grabbed the flashlight, brought it to his chin and illuminated his face.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He said in his spookiest voice possible.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Theo laughed.

“This is Halloweeeen. Trick… or treat, little ones? Mwa ha ha ha!” 

“Oh! I’ve got an idea! Why don’t we tell each other scary stories?” Mathilda offered, a wide grin onto her face.

“Should we? They are probably waiting for us inside.” Theo remarked.

“A few rounds can’t hurt, right?” Sebastian winked, shaking the flashlight for effect after shutting the electric lamp.

“I guess not.” The wizard shrugged. “Alright, then. Who’s first?”

The four friends alternated, each of them telling or inventing a scary on the spot to entertain their audience. Even after they completed one round, they were still giggling and having fun. Mathilda was leaning on her boyfriend on the bench while the other couple sat on the table, facing them.

“That was so bad, bro!” Theo chuckled despite the cheesiness of Seb’s last story. “You can’t just finish a story with the guy waking up! That’s like… the most anticlimactic an ending can get!”

“But that’s the point, dude!” Sebastian exclaimed punching his friend on the shoulder. “You don’t know if it was JUST a dream!”

“Man, I hate it when the story ends like we’re supposed to guess if it’s true or not!” Mathilda chimed.

“But that’s how you get your imagination running, Mathy!” Jennifer cheered up, grabbing another handful of candies from her purse. “Alright! Whose turn is it, now?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to take a piss back there.” Theodore said as he jumped from the table onto his feet. “We should also think about getting back inside sometime soon too. Maybe a few more and we’ll head back?”

“Sounds good, man. And if the current ain’t back soon, we can go to my place and keep up with this.” Sebastian proposed.

“Sure.”

“Jenny, do you happen to have your nail polish with you?” Mathilda asked her friend, glancing the purse.

“Umm… I think I left my kit in the car when we got here.” She said, exchanging one last smirk with her boyfriend as he walked outside. “Or maybe I put it in our bedroom on the second floor with my bags? I don’t remember. Do you want to do nails?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. I just thought we could do some, in the meantime, between stories.” The Cleopatra shrugged.

“Wait. Why don’t we take a short break while Theo’s out? I could get my stuff in the car. Can you lend me your keys, Seb?”

“Huh… yeah, of course. But don’t go driving anywhere!”

“No, no, silly.” She giggled, taking her friend’s keys. “I’ll be back in a few. Make sure to take advantage of your alone time, you two.”

“Wait, are you going to be alright by yourself?” Seb frowned, concerned.

“Dude, I did karate. I know how to defend myself!”

“But you can’t stay inside with the guys.” The lumberjack raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Hey, sorry to tag along with our boyfriends!” The fairy laughed.

Sebastian watched her leave, feeling the tender but passionate hands of his lover caressing him. He turned his head toward his playmate, who was giving him a smile that made him warm all over. Without further ado, he wrapped his girl in his long arms and kissed her, already feeling an increasing tightness inside his pants.

 

~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 11:00 PM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


The cackling of the wood in the fireplace was soothing. While not exactly sleeping, Wesley didn’t look far from it. Braxton and Victor had kept on playing games and drinking in the dimmed room, but the void left by the absence of people and music gave the mansion an unsettling vibe — haunted, almost. Even the last few beer pong games they’ve done had left the two jocks awkward. Sweaty — and yet chilly — , they sat next to the smoker by the fireplace, benefitting of its warmth for a few minutes before any of them decided to do anything.

“Guys, there’s something weird going on.” Braxton said, restless, his fingers tapping his thick thighs nervously.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Victor gasped in fake shock.

“I think… we should look for the others. I mean, no one’s back yet.”

“This is just some prank.” Wes expressed with annoyance. “Some dumb fuckin’ prank. If they’re gonna play on it, it’s none of our business.”

“You’re pretty calm about all this dude.” Braxton remarked, suspicious. “The voice mentioned a faker among us, right? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re pretty likely to be the one who did this.”

“Only an imposter would accuse another.” Wesley shrugged, not bothering giving him a look.

“I gotta agree with Brax on that, dude.” Victor seconded. “You’re looking a hell lotta suspicious, bro.”

“Whatever, guys. I said it and I’ll say it again: I don’t care about any of what happened earlier. And you want my opinion on this shitty game? I’ll give it to you. Let’s consider this whole scheme is true. I would have told them there was an imposter among them EVEN if in fact there were none — just to fuck them up. Make them turn against each other. Breaking each other’s trust. That would have been my play.”

“Dude…” Victor muttered, mind-blown the stoner could have come up with such a twisted turnabout.

Agitated, Braxton shook his head and stood up. Precipitated, he left the two guys for the hall.

“Dude! Where are you going?” The bodybuilder called, looking at him leave in a hurry.

“Gonna check in on the guys in the basement. Doesn’t take all night to find the fucking breaker.” The footballer said, taking a lightened pumpkin with him.

Victor turned at Wesley in the couch, not moving an inch. The calm of the stoner was seriously threatening. It was like he was absorbing all of their positive energy, leaving them with pure anxiety and paranoia. While he was not a fan of these drugs, Victor wished he was as relaxed as Wesley in that moment — steroids didn’t have the same effect, unfortunately. They waited for what felt an eternity, but none of the boys ever came back from the basement. Nor did they even hear anything from them. Shaking his head, the superhero stood up, grabbed his shield for good measure, and followed after his friend.

“Wait for me, Brax. I’m coming too.” He thought aloud.

As Wesley stayed all alone in the living room, a grin crossed his lips. He let himself sink into the couch, legs spread wide, eyes closed as he took one last drag of his fag before discarding it in the fireplace. After exhaling, basking in bliss, he gazed back at the dancing flames and muttered:

“Sounds like it’s gonna be an entertaining night.”


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 11:15 PM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


Asher couldn’t breathe. The darkness smothered him as he felt like falling into the void. Through the dense shadows surrounding him, he could see lights form in the distance. Stars popped, exploded into a million fragments, illuminating the never-ending emptiness. Around and around, spinning faster and faster, it made him dizzy. He would have collapsed, but he was already on all fours. He wanted to lean down, to lay down, but an unknown force kept his head up. Tears welled from his eyes as he felt like his life essence was pulled out from him. Something was suctioning him from the interior, from deep in his throat. He wanted to throw up, to scream, yet he couldn’t. That thing lodged into his mouth was stretching it. Moreover, he couldn’t close his lips anymore, forced to keep it opened wide as this unnatural energy poured out of him.

Or rather into him.

Only then did his eyes open in shock. He just realized what was happening. It had never occurred to him before — from this end at least — , hence why he was not familiar with the experience. However, the truth had just hit him harder than anything before did in his life.

He was getting face-fucked.

The lad tried to break free, but a pair of strong hands kept him in place, moving his head back and forth onto what he could only imagine was a monstrously sized cock. He wanted to cry for help, to beat this fucker, yet all he could do was suck. The organ was so massive that only muffled moans would come through. He attempted to clench his teeth shut, to hurt the shadowy figure. However, he found himself unable to.

“That’s right, Asher. You’re doing great. Keep sucking.”

This distorted voice again.

“Who are you?!” He wanted to scream. “What do you want from me?!”

But no words came out.

“How does it feel to suck on a fat cock, Asher? Feels good, does it?”

“No! Leave me alone!”

“It sure feels good for me. You are a natural at this, aren’t you? You sure you’ve never sucked dick before?” The voice mocked.

“No! Never! It tastes bad! Stop it!”

“Hmm… fuck yeah… you’re gonna make one fine homo bitch, Asher. A big one at that.”

“Just… let me… go… please…”

“Yes! We need a big one to ensure you protect other gays, right? A massive strong guy for other gays to look up to!”

“I’m… not… gay…”

“Damn, buddy, you’re already pitching a tent in your camos. Responding pretty fast, right, Asher?”

“No… not… gay…”

“You will be gay.”

“Not…”

“And big.”

“Gay…”

The sounds of inflating balloons emanated from Asher’s body as his musculature started expanding, swelling with size. Already, the camo jacket and trousers were getting tighter, straining in some parts.

“And manly.”

“Man…”

Cracking noises echoed as Asher’s fingers and palms on the floor reformed, widening up, stretching longer, growing hairier in the process. The changing man’s back was getting far too broad for the jacket, seams starting to split apart at his spreading shoulders. As the enormous penis jackhammered its way into Asher’s mouth, the red beard covering the chin and cheeks thickened, bushing outward and reaching down past the bulging Adam apple, protruding from his enlarging neck.

Louder tearing sounds invaded the dark room as Asher’s lats continued to spread wider. The belt he’s put on to hold the camo pants was growing more constricting by the second as even his middle — good old beer gut — expanded and swelled a bit from the countless amounts of precum that oozed directly into his stomach. Using one hand to help himself, Asher managed to undo the buckle, which resulted in blasting the button and zipper of his trousers.

“Look at you, Asher. Already looking much tougher… and, deep down, so much gayer.”

“Tough… gay…”

Asher felt a burning shiver run down his spine. He would have gasped if he hadn’t been gagging on this monster cock.

“You’re doing well, Asher. Just going through a little growth spurt.”

The sucker’s muffled moans intensified as his spine began reeling longer, making his whole torso taller… but it didn’t just make his limbs stretch farther — his augmented musculature followed suit, keeping proportions as he grew more towering. He reached six feet in a matter of seconds, then his best friend’s six-two height, which he surpassed until he stopped expanding at six feet four — seven inches higher than he used to be. The jacket had split over most of his back, exposing the sinuous valleys of red fur to the darkness.

Just as the sensations on his upper half seemed to come to a halt, Asher was then overwhelmed with the boiling heat spreading down his legs.

“I’m getting close, Asher. Can’t wait to get my fat load down your gay throat, don’t you?”

“Fat… load…”

His thighs were the next to change. The camo pants actually had more to give than the jacket did. Since the button and zipper were already busted, this gave them some more room to expand. He grew to completely fill them and start splitting some seams when their inflation came to an end. Calves didn’t wait for the quads to finish before swelling to incredible proportions of their own. Just when Asher thought they were done, the growth centred around his feet, trapped inside the boots.

Asher didn’t have long feet, but they were quite broad for his initial height. The wide size 10s were cramping more and more around the expanding limbs that would befit such a massive man. Unable to pull away from the cock and hands holding his head into place, Asher kicked off his footwear as best as he could without untying the increasingly confined boots. He succeeded to take them off in time but failed in removing the now fraying socks on the growing size 16s.

“Here I come, Asher! Welcome to your new gay life!”

Asher couldn’t pull away. The penis lodged deep inside his throat did not even fill his mouth with spunk: it shot directly into his stomach. The previous bloat he’s grown was nothing next to the expansion his middle succumbed to. Whereas his belly swelled up, he felt the same previous shivers run down the bones of his lower body as they mimicked the elongation of the spine — so that he didn’t look disproportionally tall above the waist. Doing so resulted in further increase along his whole legs, which the pants couldn’t bear anymore. The surging tree trunks blasted the remaining seams of the trousers. Two massive ass cheeks obliterated the seat of his pants, the white briefs he wore underneath straining themselves to conceal such a wide bumper.

The redhead outgrew giga-Seb’s height, revoking the title of giga to anyone who would ever confront him. He passed six feet and a half in a moment and stretched all the way to a staggering six-foot-ten monster of a man. The organ down his throat had since long stopped shooting its load and its owner pulled it back out. Asher coughed a few times, then groan loudly as the heat diffused to his whole body once again. The changed guy brought a hand to the only part where he didn’t feel the warmth spread since the beginning of this nightmare — his dick. As soon as he fished his throbbing erection from the confines of his taxed briefs, he started jerking off his six incher in earnest frenzy, growling like an inhuman beast.

“You might have to take care of it for a bit.” The distorted voice said, ebbing away in the velvety darkness. “Then, you know what your mission is, tonight, don’t you?”

Asher’s eyes gleamed red for a short moment. He panted laboriously as he jacked off, his erection throbbing and surging bigger with each jerk. The heat intensified at his crotch, under which massive growing balls weighed the junk down more and more. Asher’s painfully hard boner was pushing past ten inches, nearing a foot-long like an asymptotic curve by the stroke.

“Avenge the gays.” Asher groaned with a malicious grin, fangs pushing out of his mouth, nails morphing into claws. “Convert the homophobes — until there are none.”

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Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. One of them is missing. Things start to take a rather supernatural turn. Sweet dreams turn into hellish nightmares.

 

~ One of Us ~
Chapter 2 — Slumbered

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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 11:30 PM ~
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Braxton had always been the biggest kid in school until he hit junior year in High School. He’d grown to six feet tall right before he started Middle School. Not only did he stand exceptionally tall for his age, but he packed on size easily, his strength comparable to a young adult. His family, his teachers, his friends — even Dimitri when they used to be neighbours — thought he would end up as a giant powerhouse.

The dream started to wane when the years kept passing and his growth had come to a halt. By the end of Middle School, the stunt of his spurt had let him on a down only he had known about. He watched his classmates pick on their own growth spurts, their difference in height slowly closing up. Nevertheless, he graduated Middle School still as one of the tallest kids, but the distinction was not as blatant as it used to be. Before his Freshman year in High School, he hoped and prayed he’d have another growth spurt and keep the title of dominion on his classmates.

When High School begun, he realized he was growing again. He had gained another inch of height. The news made him train hard in hopes of going through one more phase — a phase that would make him a giant among his peers. However, his aspirations waned once more when he concluded he grew no more than an inch and a half taller. He kept on working out as much as he could, trying to, at least, look as massive as he could muscle-wise.

His devotion to train and build up size had caught the attention of the Physical Education Department, planning to make him join one of the school’s sports leagues. When he became a junior, he entered the football team as a 6′1.5″, 195 pounds Running Back. Participating games actually made him realize he was not that big nor that special. The players, albeit most of them older, were HUGE — with capital letters. Sure, some of them were of his size or less, but it was the first time Braxton had ever felt self-conscious about being a “little” guy. Minding himself to never be the small fry in the team, he only trained harder.

By sophomore year, while still the same height, he had gained twenty pounds of mostly muscle — although he couldn’t help but lose some definition on his abs. That’s when he heard about the new player joining the team — Richard Biggs. The guy was a testimony to his last name. Sophomore as well, he had apparently grown up at least eight inches taller over summer vacations, putting him at a towering thick six-foot-six beast. To make things worse, the man had to share the same position as himself. The teen could have been a Wide Receiver or a Quarterback instead, but the new player excelled at running.

Braxton hated him. The guy was faster than him and more charismatic as well. His uncle had a farm and that’s where he spent summer building muscles. What bugged Braxton, however, was that Richard never seemed to have any girlfriend. It wasn’t like nobody was interested in him — the girls were practically fawning at him. One night, after a well-played game and a few illegal drinks later, Richard had admitted he wasn’t keen in women at all. Braxton connected the dots and even confronted the man, when they were alone, if he was gay. The reply wasn’t what he had anticipated — and yet, he didn’t know what to anticipate:

“Why? Are you interested?” Richard snarked back, with a coy smirk that didn’t let much on.

He couldn’t accept it. He just wouldn’t. A gay guy in HIS football team? NEVER! Braxton tried extirpating the queer from their squad, revealing the odious nature of the player and explaining how wrong and bad it looked for their school reputation. The coach and the principal, although not lenient on homosexuals in general, could not afford losing such a good team asset. Taking the matters into his own hands, Braxton waited until their next after-game party before pushing his inebriated target down the stairs, breaking his legs in the process. The scandal it brought was mediated and upon treating the wounded player, the alcohol found in his blood incriminated him since he was still a minor back then. The guy could have had a bright future in sports and his studies, but Braxton made sure he would have the spotlight instead.

Braxton shook his head, the remorse of his younger deeds filling him with regrets. Whilst he did not approve of the homosexual lifestyle even to this day, he grew to simply let them be and not feed on his hate to justify his motives. He used to be so stupid and impulsive when he was a teen, and he still kinda was in his humble opinion. If he had known it would eventually get back at him someday, he would have probably learned to temper his emotions rather than act on them.

Braxton had not walked in Dimi’s basement in years. He remembered when they used to play hide-and-seek with their Nerf Guns in the shadows of the immense basement. The disposition of the furniture and the divisions didn’t look familiar at all, even less in the dark. He called for his friends when the door behind him closed shut, making him spin around so fast his pumpkin candle almost went off. He stepped back toward where he came from and reopened the door, thinking someone was pranking him with a trick, but realized it was jammed.

“What… fucking hell!” He grumbled — fidgeting with the handle did nothing.

He could have broken through the door — at 250 pounds, he was more than able to — , but he doubted Dimi’s parents would appreciate the result. He wondered, for a moment, if that jammed door was the reason why the guys didn’t come back upstairs. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt like an ethereal hand grazed his back. Turning around once again, the football player could only witness the profound blackness of the room.

“Anybody there?” Braxton asked out loud, feeling chilly all of a sudden.

A slow creaking sound increased in intensity across the theatre, like a door opening. He did not remember where the breaker panel was from their childish jaunts, but he figured he’d go investigate what was causing this noise. With each sluggish step, the wall seemed to back away further and mingle into the dark, the floorboards stretching infinitely beneath his feet. After what felt like an eternity to cross the room, Braxton finally saw the ajar door. Gulping back, the footballer pushed the door opened and entered another large apartment.

Unlike in the theatre, there was a small window on the farther end, near the ceiling. Some of the moonlight poured into the place. With it, something shone faintly across the walls, a timid spark embracing the space.

Moving into the quiet room, Braxton let out a shocked yell as the door closed drastically behind him. He turned around and barked again in surprise, an imposing figure standing right before him by the entrance. He backed off until his feet hit a heavy object, making him stumble awkwardly into what felt like a seat. The pumpkin fell down and collapsed into pieces, stifling the flame.


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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 11:40 PM ~
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A commotion tore Larry out of his own world as he was playing Klondike on his laptop. Even through the blasting music going in his headphones, it felt like the floors itself shook from an earthquake. Everything fell back into silence. However, fearing some unexpected event would occur, he pulled his headset off and lent an ear to any possible sound.

He wondered what the cause of this tumult was. It couldn’t have been just an earthquake — could it have been Dimitri or Asher? Maybe someone else? Closing the lid of his laptop — the battery was almost depleted anyway — , Larry left it under his pillow, grabbed the knife and the illuminated pumpkin on his nightstand. He slowly walked to his door, making sure his steps were as light as a feather to not attract any attention. He turned one last time at his window, which had been opened when he got into his room. Fortunately, nothing seemed to have been robbed at first glance. It didn’t mean someone didn’t take the opportunity to enter the mansion while he had been away earlier. He had been careless enough for letting the window opened — and yet, he did not foresee going upstairs would take him as much time as it did. 

About to leave his den, Larry cracked the door ajar slightly. However, the darkness swallowed his light into its unknown depths, revealing nothing he could see. He felt so safe and secure, like naught would get to him if he stayed in his room — and perhaps wait until sunrise — but the sudden noise made him curious, even if within he felt about to piss himself.

“He — hello?” The lad muttered, shaking slightly more with each further inch he pulled the door open.

A chilly yet invisible wall hit him as he left the comfort of his nest, sinking into the shadows.

“Who’s there? What was that?” He asked, louder this time.

A few steps outside of his room and Larry heard another series of noises, the floor shaking from it once more. Profanities and groans echoed in the direction of the commotion — from the recreation room. Holding firmly on the knife, Larry walked toward the door, redoubting what he might just encounter behind it.

“I heard you!” Larry claimed, standing a few feet away. “Who’s there?”

“Lar… Larry?” The voice on the other side asked. “Do you have a light? I fell down and I can’t see shit!”

“Braxton?” The lad mumbled, the apprehension shifting to concern.

Still on his guard, the teenager opened the door, looking around for his childhood neighbour. The dimmed sight actually put a smirk on Larry’s face — the footballer had stumbled on a pair of dumbbells Dimitri must have forgotten to store back on the rack, by their workout bench.

“Dude… how did you get here?” Larry chuckled, giving his friend a hand.

“Fuck, bro! For a moment, I thought I saw…” The man started, as he stood back on his feet, before hiding any hint of fear in his expression. “You guys took your sweet fucking time down here! Where’s the boys at?”

“They went after the breaker.”

“Right… but weren’t you with them?”

“They left me behind so I checked on my stuff instead.”

Braxton sized up the gamer for a moment until their attention diverted toward the theatre room, a new sound had yet echoed farther in the basement.

“Did you hear that?” The Running Back mumbled.

Larry grabbed onto his knife, fearing what they might encounter. The footballer would have chuckled at Larry’s timorous behaviour, but the oddity of the whole situation made him not. 

“What was that?”

“Dimitri? Is that you?” Larry asked.

“Let’s go check on them.”

“Yeah.”

The sportsman went first, lightened by Larry’s pumpkin. The duo made it into the next room. Devoid of windows, the theatre only seemed darker. Just as Braxton called for the boys, a loud grunt and a splintering glass echoed from another room, all the way across the cinema.

“That was from the bar!” Larry whispered to Braxton. “Someone’s in there!”

“Let’s go, Lar!” The footballer goaded on.

With an uncertain step, the younger lad followed his ex-neighbour. They got around the few seats facing the wide TV on the far wall, close to the door leading into the bar until one more fearful glass-shattering noise resounded in the closed room.

“Should we knock?” Larry suggested, shaking like a leaf.

“What are you? A pussy?” Braxton mocked.

“What?! No, I’m not!” The gamer frowned with anger.

The grunts coming from the room suddenly stopped, leaving both arguing men on the edge of running. After a few seconds of silence, new noises and growls echoed behind the door, although none seemed to imply if they’d been heard or not.

“I’m not a fuckin’ pussy!” Larry gritted between his teeth at Braxton.

“Then come here and light up the freakin’ door!”


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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 11:45 PM ~
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The air had gotten cooler. Its coldness dug into the couple’s bones to a point where the post-coitus heat no longer sufficed to keep them warm. Sebastian looked out through the window, wrapping his arm around his shivering girlfriend. He had her wrapped in an old wool blanket he found in the cabinet and had put his toque on her head instead of her Egyptian diadem. He had even removed his plaid shirt for her earlier, before he discovered the cloth, which she now had bundled into a pillow to rest on her lover’s bony shoulder.

“Where’s Theo and Jen?” The drunken Mathilda slurred at her boyfriend, almost drooling on the shoulder she leaned on.

“I don’t know, babe. They’ve been away for a while, now.” He said with concern in his voice, rubbing her under the blanket. “They should be back for a while.”

“Maybe they went back inside? I don’t blame them. It’s freezing cold, here.”

“Do you want to move inside too?”

“I think I just wanna nap a bit.” The half-naked Cleopatra mumbled, curling up against him. “Do you want to stay with me?”

“I would, but I don’t think we should fall asleep, babe.” The tall young man shook her, resulting in a displeased groan. “Remember what the…”

“Ugh! Fuck off, Seb!” She snarked, visibly annoyed. “I just want to nap and cuddle with you a while — not sleep all night!”

“Fine… but that will be without me. I’ll look for the others first and come back to check on you.” Sebastian conceded, kissing her on her forehead. “Think you can stay alone for a bit?”

“You know I’m a big girl now, Daddy.” She giggled, eyes closed.

“Yeah, babe. I know.” The shirtless man smiled, standing up and leaving her to lie on the bench.

Freezing, Sebastian looked back into the cabinet where he previously found the blanket and searched for a piece of clothing to wear outside. The only thing he found was an old hunting vest. While the orange cloth wouldn’t keep him warm much, it was better still than heading out bare chest.


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~ Saturday, October 31st, 2020 — 11:50 PM ~
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Braxton opened the door. Another glass shatter joined in the grunts and slick sounds filling the dark room. The dim light that entered through a broken window gave a brief hint of what was going on inside the bar. Beyond the high counter and stools, shadows moved ominously. The footballer, not seeing imminent threat, stepped inside warily but stopped short almost right after. Larry barely caught to him, asking him what was happening, until the pumpkin illuminated a large figure blocking the shelves. The towering creature gasped for air after chugging yet another bottle of alcoholic beverages. It discarded the emptied glass around the room without a care, breaking it as it landed on the floor.

“Hey, you! What are you doing?!” Braxton yelled, immediately regretting calling the 'thing' out.

Slowly, the monstrous figure turned around, revealing a pair of red glowing eyes in the dark. Its slobbering mouth hung open, curled into a devious smile. Sharp inhuman fangs faintly gleamed white from the light reflection. The creature stepped aside, showing the wreckage it’s done to the home bar as it approached the two immobile men. And above any trepidation the two young men could feel, they noticed it was lewdly stroking a ginormous erection a foot before itself, drooling precum on the floor.

“Wha— what the hell is that thing?!” Larry cried, his voice cracking from terror.

“Move!” Braxton ordered as he ran for the exit.

Their outburst was what the beast needed to leap spontaneously into their direction. The footballer tackled the fear frozen Larry out of the room. Braxton tried to shut the door closed, but the monster put its sturdy fingers on the frame, preventing from pushing it. A scream from Larry reverberated through the basement, just as a far away door in the room opened energetically.

“Brax? Guys? What’s going on?” The voice of Victor boomed through the cinema.

“Vic! Come here, man!” The other jock pleaded as he rammed himself into the door, struggling to lock the creature into the bar, but to no avail.

A gigantic arm, covered in dense fiery hair, had made its way out, its boulder-sized shoulder about to make it through. Victor dropped his Captain America shield and ran to help him, but stumbled onto Larry midway. Accidentally, he kicked the pumpkin away in the process, making the object roll its way between the seats — thus casting greater shadows.

“Get the pumpkin, Lar!” Braxton shouted.

As Victor joined his friend in closing the door, Larry just retrieved the light. Just as the youngest man turned toward the jocks with the candle, the monstrous arm had retreated into the bar. The pounding against the door — covered in cracks and looking as if it would break anytime soon — stopped. Ear against it, Braxton listened for the beast. After a few seconds, he could hear it lumbering off, each of its steps weighing heavily. Carefully, he moved away and told his companions.

“What the hell was that?!” Victor snapped.

“A bear, I guess? But are there bears around here?! I’ve never seen any!” Braxton exclaimed between huffs.

“The bar’s a mess! My parents are gonna kill me!” Larry expressed, falling into a theatre seat, grasping the pumpkin anxiously.

“That thing’s gonna kill us if we don’t get to kill it first!” Braxton snarked back, unbelieving the preoccupied teen. “Fuck! Where’s the fucking breaker?!”

“That way…” Larry muttered, livid.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me!” The footballer gritted his teeth, rolling his eyes.

“Is there any other way to reach Asher and Dimi? An outside door, a window?” Victor asked Larry.

“There’s a window in the breaker room.” He answered. “But there’s also a hidden door that could bypass the bar.”

“What?”

The cracked door burst open, the beast barging through. The three guys screamed altogether. The monster tripped over the first row of seats and fell to the floor in a surprised yelp. Victor tried the door to run back upstairs, but it was jammed. They were stuck here with this thing! Larry jumped onto his feet and led the crew, benefitting of the stunned creature on the ground to sprint for their lives.

“Follow me!”

The two jocks didn’t need to be told twice. They obeyed after Larry, running back toward the bedrooms near the stairs.

“Why are you running from me, guys?” A deep yet familiar voice boomed after them with a mocking tone to it.

“Run!” Victor cried as they turned sharp into the corridor.

“Here!” Larry gestured, opening a closet door in the dead end.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Braxton grumbled looking at the short and narrow entrance.

“Close the door behind you!” Larry commanded as he leaned inside.

It didn’t take long for all three guys to get inside. Braxton, last to enter, even saw the gleaming red eyes of the giant beast across the corridor before he closed it shut. The apparent closet actually looked more like a water room, with various valves and pipes leading to most of the mansion’s plumbing. Behind racks of clothes and miscellaneous objects, Larry unravelled another small door on the back side.

Larry urged his companions into the other room with him. Once again the place was devoid of any windows, leaving the weak pumpkin as their only light source. The three young men listened carefully in case the monster had discovered their whereabouts, but it seemed oblivious to their ruse… for now.

“Where are we now then, Lar?” Braxton asked, half in a whisper, looking around.

“This is my parents’ archives for work.” Larry summed up — they worked in the law department. “They don’t get to let anyone in here usually, so don’t touch anything.”

“They hide their archives behind a fucking closet?” Braxton pondered dumbfoundingly.

“No, it’s just another way to reach it without going through the bar and meeting room.”

A soft pounding and muffling echoed, as if smothered. The three men grew anxious from the sound all of a sudden, until Larry realized this came from what they were looking for — the breaker room.

“They’re in there!” The gamer expressed with relief, rushing toward the wall on their left. “Wait… guys?”

“What is it, Larry?” Victor asked, keeping on giving furtive glances from the door they came from — in case the monster stroke back.

“There’s… a bookshelf in front of the door!”

“What?”

The teen put the pumpkin light on a filing cabinet in the middle of the room, right next to a desk covered in boxes and piles of articles. He examined the bookcase once more, thinking out loud how someone must have shoved it to block the breaker room’s entrance. Larry tried to position himself so that he could push the shelves and free the door, but the furniture proved to be too heavy for him to move it out of the way.

“Care to help me, guys?” Larry asked, frowning upon the slowness of the jocks to help him.

Braxton chuckled at first, teasing the gamer if his muscles were just for show or for real. Larry snarked back at him to help rather than throwing insults. Victor, suppressing a laugh, lent him a hand. The task became easy with two of them. Once the door was free, Larry opened it. On the other side, they found a visibly annoyed Dimitri, with a flashlight and his shotgun in his hands. The pumpkin he used to manoeuvre around earlier was now sitting on a stripped wooden table under a small and high window.

“T’was about time someone came here!” Dimitri chimed in.

“So much for going alone, bro.” Larry nagged.

“I never planned on getting trapped in the breaker!”

“Did it work, the breaker?”

“What do you think?!” The big brother sarcastically asked.

“Okay, okay. No need to spit venom on me, man!” Larry sighed.

“If it’s not the breaker, that means the current line had been cut, right?” Braxton remarked.

“Yeah, that’s what I think as well.” Dimitri spoke, scanning the guys who rescued him from his cell. “Where’s Asher, by the way?”

While not directly asked to Larry, the party host glanced at his brother anyway — he was the last one who saw Asher after all.

“We separated. When you went for the breaker, Asher told me he was going after you.”

“What? But… I didn’t see Asher since I’ve left you two in the TV room. Where did you go, then?”

“I looked on my stuff in my room.”

“Ah! Right… and no robber?”

“No.”

“But there’s…something that’s been robbing some of your booze, guys, though.” Braxton added.

“What?”

“Yeah…” Larry mumbled into a whisper, lowering his voice as he briefly looked toward the water-room door. “A monster or something broke into the bar.”


~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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DISCLAIMER: The following part of the chapter contains a rather graphic transformation (nothing gore, but it contains body/self horror). It's my first time writing something of the sort, but I'm rather happy how it turned out, even though I consider myself a gay guy. Hope you enjoy!


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:00 AM ~
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Nightmarish visions startled Mathilda from her pleasant drunken thoughts. The room around her was dimmed, but the pale light of the full moon shone into the shed by the window. She was still sweaty. The air was chillier than what she expected — it was Texas after all. She looked for her boyfriend Seb or her friends, but she was alone… or so she thought. She stood up shakily, the gravity weighing her down more than she was used to. The alcohol was still pretty much in her system, despite throwing up earlier. She pulled on the battery lightbulb cord and a disturbing sight shocked her.

Right in front of her, her ex-boyfriend Gregory Starks sat on the bench where she lied a few seconds ago.

“Good evening, Mathy. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Greg?” The drunken girl spoke, unfocussed. “What are you doing here? I told you we were over.”

“Why did you betray me like that?” The man asked calmly.

“Dude, you told me you were some bisexual freak. I wanted a real man for a boyfriend, not some closeted homo that would fuck guys behind my back.”

“You were always so judgmental, Mathilda. Being bi doesn’t mean I have to fuck both girls and guys. It only means I am turned on by both. If a guy were turned on by both svelte and curvy girls, would you rather end your relationship in fear he’d bang curvy women behind your back?”

“Fuck off with your stupid allegories, Greg. I bet the only reason why you played sports was to fuck with those guys in the showers.” She shot out of spite. “The world doesn’t need freaks like you who can’t even decide if they’re gay or straight.”

“Bisexuality isn’t a phase, Mathilda. I would have hoped you’d realize someday.”

“Whatever. Get away from here before I call the cops. You weren’t even invited here. The guys didn’t even like you anyway.”

“How will you call the cops?”

Suddenly, the weight of the blackout and fried batteries came back on the Latina. Feigning she still had her phone, she played it cool.

“With my phone, you dummy! You’re so thick sometime!” She insulted.

“Your phone is dead, Mathy. I repeat: how will you call the cops?”

The cold stoicism of her ex-boyfriend made shivers run down Mathilda’s back.

“How does he know about my phone? Was he spying on us?” She thought.

A smug grin stretched on Greg’s face, barely shown through the faint moonlight in the shed. The sportive man stood up from the stool. He was not as tall as Mathilda’s current boyfriend, but he was taller than Dimitri and Braxton. She remembered him to be slightly thicker than Sebastian’s lanky build, yet the person before her looked way thinner — atrophied, even. Concern filled up the girl’s already frightened expression. Now that she had a better view of him, she noticed how the man was completely naked, the livid skin clinging to his bones.

“What… happened to you?”

“You, Mathy. You happened to me.” The man said as he stepped toward her.

“Stay back!” She ordered, backing away against the door, trying to reach for the handle without breaking eye contact. “Don’t get any closer!”

“What are you afraid of, Mathy?” The figure mocked, its voice distorting slightly.

The eyes of the man blinked red for a second, glowing in the dark while it did.

“Seb!” Mathilda cried in terror. “Jen! Anyone! Help!”

To her horror, turning the handle did nothing — the door was stuck.

“This can’t be happening!” She panicked in her interior.

In the instant she had broken their shared glance to examine the door, a warm breath hit her bare shoulder. Mathilda tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth, preventing her from doing calling for help. She sensed the familiar feeling of a firm yet fleshy lump against her lower back.

“I’m going to get raped!” She panicked. “I’m going to get raped!”

“Do you know what it’s like to be outed as bi in a sports team, Mathy? Do you know how many beatings I’ve gone through just because of you?”

Tears ran down the Cleopatra’s face, her mascara smearing all over. The naked man lifted her robe, eliciting more muffled screams from the helpless woman.

“I’ve been raped, Mathy. I’ve been beaten. Humiliated.”

The fingers of her captor coursed up and down her hairless flesh, teasing her, violating her. She closed her eyes, resolved to her incoming rape.

“I’m in a coma, Mathy. All that… is because of you.” The distorted voice whispered into her ear.

His hands ran to her front, crawling under her disguise, rubbing her abdomen’s skin.

“You just had to fuck with your new boy Seb, huh, Mathy?” He chuckled. “No condoms or anything… aren’t you a bit scared of getting pregnant? You sure changed since I’ve known you.”

The hand covering her mouth withdrew, letting her gasp for a big breath before screaming into the void of the night. Gregory didn’t sway away, his erection still rubbing her back.

“Scream all you want, Mathy. You’ve already lost.” The voice said enigmatically as darkness ate the shed.

Mathilda hyperventilated, falling into the endless pit of shadows as a throbbing assailed the insides of her sex. She clutched her tummy, trying to yell, to liberate herself from what filled her hole to the brim. Only as her body finally collided with the end of the abyss did she finally gasp for air once more.

There she was, on some wooden floor in some dark place… but not as dark as before. The faint blueish light of the moon entered the shed once more and she lied there, on the dirty ground, right next to the bench she had fallen asleep earlier. Mathilda jerked her head frenetically, looking for a trace of Gregory or something — no one was there but her.

“A dream…” She panted, tears of relief running down her cheeks. “That was just a dream!”

Mathilda pulled herself up with the table, still dizzy. Leaning onto the stand, she realized she indeed felt sick and bloated. Only when she brought her hand to her tummy did she sensed an unusual swelling of her lower abdomen. Her insides grew warmer, the ache intensifying. She felt like puking, nauseous, but nothing came out. Her dry throat tightened up, her neck muscles inflamed and tensed. The bloat of her belly pushed against her fingers, as if something was burgeoning within her.

“Oh God… what’s… UGH— happening to me?!” She cried, moaning as her insides felt like moving on their own.

The memory of her most recent sex with her boyfriend came back to her. While Theodore and Jennifer were gone, she and Sebastian had practically threw themselves at each other, discarding their costumes and fucking like rabbits on the bench under the pale moonlight. Right now, her previously cool pussy had become burning hot and moist. Under her Cleopatra robe, her shaved bush was growing back in force, spreading thicker and longer than ever over an uncomfortably stretched hole.

A twisted moan escaped her throat. Her hand rubbed down to her wet vagina, her eyes snapping open in incredulous shock. The few last sentences of her nightmare resurfaced, haunting. Mathilda trembled in realization. The heat assailing her, the swollen abdomen, the painful stretching of her cunt… she was pregnant — and about to give birth.

“No! That can’t be! Seb! SEEEB!” She screamed in terror.

Her wobbly legs, failing to support her any longer, crumbled. Mathilda gasped, but managed to fall on the bench. She couldn’t bear keeping her lower limbs closed one against another so she unfolded them into the widest manspread she’s ever done, pulling up her imperial robe, in the meantime. The girl groaned in pain as she felt her womb growing even bigger within her, the unnaturally fast pregnancy occurring simultaneously with her labour.

“AHHH! HEEELP!” She pleaded, her breaths short and difficult, her voice deformed — a touch cavernous.

“Fuckin’ whore!’ A voice chimed in her head.

UGH! Please… stop!” The thought of Gregory’s ghost haunting her kept her weeping.

“I trusted you!” Her ex-boyfriend yelled at her, the scene of their breakup coming back to her. “Why did you do that?!”

“I’m… I’m sorry…” Mathilda moaned, clenching her fists and slamming on the bench as the pain of the expansion within her reached new lengths.

More liquid seeped out of her as a large hairy sphere pressed against the narrow opening, tearing her opened further.

NooOOooOOO!” Her voice cracked, dropping in pitch as she witnessed the head of her child pushing out.

Her hands didn’t know what to do — sometime hitting the seat, sometime clenching at her clothes or skin. She had seen newborns before, yet the hair on this one’s was thicker than any she’s met. Even the sheer size of her baby’s head exceeded her expectations. Sebastian was a tall guy at six-five, but she’s never asked if he had been a big child. And yet, why would she even have asked such a thing?

Another wail — somehow, it was as if she felt the baby as a part of herself. Mathilda let out one more desperate squeal, pushing the unwanted being out of her. She thought her body split opened the instant the head finally went through… but no cries came to her ears. Her vitreous eyes looked down and realized what she had given birth was not a baby’s hairy scalp… just a massive ball covered in fuzz.

“Wha— what?!” She muttered, acknowledging her middle had not receded all the way.

“Here comes its twin!” The malevolent voice in her head cheered.

UGHHHAAHH!!” Mathilda groaned, her timber hoarser, her whole neck wider.

Due to her already stretched gaping hole, the transforming woman pushed with some ease a second monstrous orb, both of them hanging from her like a sack.

“Just one more!”

“I… I can’t…!” She whined, out of breath.

Mathilda didn’t even recognize the voice that came from her, sounding more and more alike to that nagging one in her head.

“You’ve lost, Mathy. You got to accept the consequences.”

“Lost what? What consequences?” She thought back, unable to orally exchange with it. The last one coming up was a big one. She could still feel the other two, connected to her somehow — they were in the way for the third.

“You’ve fallen asleep, Matt. The rules clearly said to not sleep.”

This had to be a nightmare still. Mathilda thought back to the events that happened with their phones earlier. She cussed at herself, blaming how dumb she had been to not believe it.

“I should have known!” She grumbled, clenching her eyes shut.

The tenor timbre of her voice dropped deeper still. Her previous weeps of despair evolved into savage groans. Dark shadows surfaced across her neck and chin, spreading onto her face and down to her chest. The meagre breasts of the gymnast firmed up, converting adipose tissues to thick muscly ones. Her arms tensed, fingers gripping so hard to the bench they turned pale. Each of the digits toughened, enlarging and lengthening as her delicate hands grew into those of a blue-collar.

With all the force Mathilda had left within herself, she screamed and pushed the last piece of the puzzle out of her body — a long, arm-thick penis slipped from her pussy into the world. Along with some excess ball sack skin slipping out, the new male genitalia sealed shut any last trace of her previous femininity.

“I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!” He exerted with ferocity, fiery-red eyes snapping open.

The stubble across his face spread out into a short yet dense black beard. The long hair grew out of control into a mane-like frenzy. The lumberjack toque fell off the larger head. Matt brought his new manly hands to the soft yet hardening boner between his wide-opened legs. The organ that made him a male felt so good to rub, sending millions after millions of soothing drugs to his brain along the insane amounts of testosterone the grotesquely sized balls filled him with.

Matt jerked off the massive dong before him with abandon. Nothing had ever felt so great before. His cute dainty feet kicked off the high heels Mathilda previously wore, becoming far too large to be confined in such ridicule footwear. Had Sebastian lent him his size 13 boots, Matt was pretty sure they wouldn’t even fit the enormous feet he was still growing. The masturbator’s limbs snapped audibly, an insurmountable ache taking over them, as they elongated further. Whereas Mathilda had been a svelte five-foot-nine, Matt was stretching absurdly taller by the second. Six feet came and left, so did six feet and a half, then seven feet. More and more, the new man was enlarging to fit in with the throbbing fourteen incher before him. When his growth slowed and tapered under seven feet and a half, the remains of the Cleopatra costume barely held like awkwardly wrapped rags around him.

Immense amounts of body hair covered the massive Latino, whose last feminine features melted before him. The hips compressed on themselves while the ribcage expanded. Shoulders spread further apart and her oval face honed into a pronounced angular shape, obscured in black bristles. The bright fiery irises glowed even more fiercely, taking a devilish bloodstain hue instead. Along with the changing eyes, claws burst from under the nails and Matt’s teeth sharpened into fangs.

With an inhuman cry, mostly a beastly roar, Matt came all over the shed, coating the tools and furniture with spunky and virile semen. The burning need to orgasm as a man for the first time ebbed down slightly, but the swollen manhood did not falter just yet. A deep chuckle reverberated within the monstrous gymnast’s chest, its massive pectorals stretching farther than Mathilda’s boobs ever could while still depicting a lean cut to them.

Before giving into another masturbatory frenzy, the thought of Gregory resurfaced onto Matt’s mind. The fact that the guy had been beaten into a coma by homophobes ignited the flame within him one more time as he began pumping his oversized meat once again.

“Avenge the gays.” The newborn Matt growled, relishing his new manliness. “Convert the homophobes — until there are none.”

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Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. Two of them are missing. No matter how much you run away, the bitterness of denial lingers eternally within repressed memories.

~ One of Us ~
Chapter 3 — Lingered

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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:00 AM ~
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Theodore smiled smugly as he walked back to the shed. His legs still felt a bit shaky after such an orgasm, but it was more than worth it. A shiver ran down his spine as a breeze gently grazed past him, making him to tighten the warm clothes around him. He was actually glad wearing these ample wizard robes on this chilly evening. He was almost back to the shack when a looming shadow appeared near his destination, holding a weak fire. On his guard, Theo shut his flashlight and stopped moving forward. Furtively, he looked for some place to hide. With barely any hot spot at first glance, he simply mellowed slowly against the shadows of the mansion’s walls. From this particular angle, the moonlight wouldn’t give his position right away.

The steps of the dark figure got closer until the lantern illuminated the individual — Sebastian. With a sigh, the short lad moved out of his hiding spot, pointing his flashlight on him. Oddly enough, he wasn’t wearing the same clothes as earlier — he looked more akin to a blue-collar rather than a lumberjack with the orange jacket. Nevertheless, the wizard shrugged it off.

“Hey, bro! What are you doing out here?” Theo asked with a smirk.

“Theo, man! Where were you at? Took you long enough to piss, huh?” Seb spoke back, surprised by his friend appearing out of nowhere.

“Oh, right. Yeah. Well, it was a bit chilly out here, so I went back inside instead.” The guy explained, breaking their shared look to play with his eyeglasses — they were dirty.

A short silence lingered on. Sebastian glared at his friend. Something felt off, but he shrugged it off, figuring he should change the subject. He didn’t exactly want to chat about his previous whereabouts either.

“Did you see Jen?”

“No, I didn’t.” Theo replied, frowning his eyebrows this time. “Should I have?”

“Just asking, man. She still hasn’t come back.”

“Really? I thought she wanted to do nail stuff with Mathy.”

“I dunno, dude. You know, girls and their things…”

Both guys chuckled at that.

“Where’s Mathy, by the way? Did she stay in the shed?”

“Yeah, she was getting tired, so I’ll let her nap a bit.”

Theo’s face suddenly paled, which didn’t go unnoticed by his pal.

“Don’t worry, man.” Sebastian reassured. “I’m gonna check on her every once in a while to make sure she’s fine.”

“If you say so, bro. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this. Do you too, or am I just paranoid?”

“No, I get it, man. We just gotta stay on our guards.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah…”

Another silence occurred. The two men couldn’t bear looking at each other this time, diverting their glances.

“Wanna go check on her, man?” Sebastian asked.

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“I repeat: who?” Theo said, a wide grin betraying his seriousness.

“The one you brought here tonight.”

“Oh! That one!”

“You’re a jackass, dude.” Seb snickered.

“Maybe, but the girls love my jackass cock, bro.”

“It just looks big cause you’re short, dude.”

“If it gets me the ladies, what’s the harm?”

“Anyway, let’s go for my car.”

“Hopefully, Jen did not leave us on foot.”

“Then she would lose the game.”

“Just like your snoring babe, Seb.”

“Our girls are helpless.” The tall lumberjack chuckled.

“Girls are helpless. Period.”


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:15 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


“Do you guys think… that thing got to Asher before us?” Dimitri pondered, feeling his stomach sink at the idea.

“I… I don’t know…” Larry mumbled, remorse filling his face. “Oh God… I shouldn’t have left him go alone…”

“First, let’s not think about that until we’re certain about what happened to Asher!” Victor cut off, leading the gloomy quartet, puffing his chest like the superhero he interpreted. “We gotta get out of here before that thing tears us apart! Let’s leave, and come back tomorrow when the sun is high!”

“We can’t!” Larry blurted out, eyes vitreous. “We can’t leave the grounds!”

“Or else what? They’ll send that bear after us?” Victor mocked. “Dimi’s got a gun! If anything chases us down, we’ll shoot it before it lands a single claw on any of us.”

“Unless you are the faker?” Braxton growled at Larry. “Are you the fuckin’ snitch who’s set this all up tonight?!”

“What?!” The gamer cried out, visibly insulted. “I’m no snitch whatsoever, dumbass!”

“That’s what the imposter would say.” The footballer nagged. “What a fuckin’ FAG would—”

“First, anybody with some common sense would say that! Two, I had a shit ton of plans online tonight! I wouldn’t have decided to suddenly fuck up my night to play silly hide-and-seek games with you, fuckers!”

“ENOUGH!” The host shouted, stepping in between the fight. “Brax, leave my brother alone! Lar, calm the fuck down!”

“He’s the one who…”

“Shut up!” The big brother asserted. “Let’s make it out of here before…”

The beast tackled through the pipes room door. The four young men yelled and swore profanities at the sudden but expected outburst. Larry ran away first, going for the door facing the breaker entrance.

“Run, guys! Don’t stay there!” The younger brother screamed.

Braxton pulled at Victor’s shoulder to get him out of the thing’s range. However, the towering creature’s eyes shifted toward the firearm wielder. A malicious grin grew on the giant’s smile, showing its pearly white fangs.

“This is for Asher!” Dimitri cried as he aimed his gun toward the monster.

The weapon fired.


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:15 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


Jennifer was nowhere to be found. The car — still in the driveway — was empty. While Sebastian looked out for her through the window, Theodore looked briefly before swaying away. The doors were still locked, giving no insight if the fairy had come here earlier.

“Doesn’t look like she’s been here.”

“Well, her kit doesn’t look like there anymore.” Theo shrugged. “Maybe she took it inside to our room?”

“Dude, are you hiding something from me?” Seb asked, triggered by the reactions of his friend.

“You’re my best bro, Seb! I wouldn’t!”

“Right, but you don’t have to guts to tell Jen about your ‘tutoring lessons’ with Hope, Brittany and whoever else, huh?”

“Not so loud, bro!” Theo hushed, blushing red at the accusation.

“Theodore James, YOU are the one making a scene.” Seb rolled his eyes. “And if it’d been any other night, I would not have cared — you know me. But with a faker among us, we can’t be too sure about anything tonight.”

“What? Are you telling me you think I AM the faker, bro? Bro…”

“There’s been some weird shit going on earlier, so don’t ‘bro’ me like that, dude.”

“I can’t believe it, Seb. You’re turning down on me, now? Is it because I tutored Mathy last year in History? Cause I can assure you nothing ever happened between the two of us, bro. That, I swear!”

“No, and no, and no! I already know Mathy doesn’t go for tiny guys. I’m sorry, bro. You’re right. I’m just confused with what’s going on tonight. That’s all.”

“Eh… if one’s gotta be paranoid, Seb, it’s me, bro. You didn’t do weird shit at all, bro. You’re like… the perfect A angel. Besides… even fags have the hot for you!”

The two men burst into laugher, roughing each other up with playful punches until they stopped it out. A chillier breeze flew by and the lumberjack-now-blue-collar shivered, the orange vest doing very little to warm him up. The quivering didn’t go unnoticed by Theodore, feeling bad for his half-naked friend on such an unusually cold night.

“Alright, bro. Let’s check out on Jen inside. Maybe she did go inside.”

Sebastian nodded and the two of them left the vehicle in the driveway to head for the mansion.


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:15 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


Wesley had a conscious dream. Smoking weed had the effect of putting him into a trance after the third fag, where he was still awake, but could also hallucinate or envision thoughts and memories. Sprawled on the couch by the undying fireplace, he imagined the darkness of the room seeping away, filled with pure soothing light — a bright radiant sun in a cloudless sky, shining on Austin City and its surrounding towns. The thoughts of his first day to Middle School in a whole new neighbourhood, the stress with it, came back to him. Wesley watched over himself in these days.

After his father had lost his job as an engineering operator, he fell into depression and drown into alcoholism. Wes’s parents would yell at each other at night, keeping him awake for hours rather than sleeping through. His mother eventually vanished, leaving him with an abusive and violent dad who did not even know how to wash clothes or how to make dinner. Each time he saw himself walk on the way to school, the dark bags around his eyes grew more pronounced. His modest garments became messier and dirtier, smellier. He remembered how people used to mock and humiliate him further for his appearance. Piggy-Wes was a nickname that haunted him for years.

As much as he could, Wesley tried to live through these hard times, connecting with his friend Seb only via Facebook and Kik. He didn’t tell him everything, hoping not to screw their bond with his negativity — but also because he feared his father’s reaction if he read their exchanges. Hugo Gibbs was the first person he’s considered a friend in his new neighbour. They met in High School, by the fence wrapping around the perimeter. Since he didn’t want to hear the other teens make fun of Piggy-Wes, he used to eat the few bologna slices for lunch outside.

Hugo was a marginal kid. He dyed his hair, had more piercings on his face alone than he had digits and was smoking weed daily. He was a sophomore when they met, but was actually three years older than Wes — Hugo had repeated junior year. He was the first to let Wesley know he didn’t mind his dirtiness since his nose didn’t catch on most smells. He offered Wes his first fag and told the solitary freshman that smoking like him would eventually wear off the reeking musk.

Doing drugs did not only cover his stink, but made him lose fat fast. While not obese by any means, he had always been chubbier than most of his male classmates. By junior year, he had shed off most of his excess weight. He had started drinking with his new older friends, taking pleasure at disobeying his father’s curfew at night. His grades went down as he lingered with the nonchalant Hugo and his crew.

Wesley squirmed into the cushions by the crackling fire in the chimney, the outdated memories flowing in front of him like an unstoppable movie.

He remembered the evening in Hugo’s apartment. The two of them had had a blast that day — skipping school, stealing chips and candies from a store before getting drunk. They were both lounging — Wesley on the futon, Hugo on his bed — and watching TV. Wesley complained about probably failing junior year as well. Hugo, who started Senior year earlier that year, had altogether just dropped out, fed up with academics.

The audacity of his friend had Wesley admiring him. Hugo was so confident and extrovert. He aspired to become like this man, someday. That very night, in lieu of both beating off to porn like Hugo usually suggested, the punk asked if Wesley would be interested in smoking on his “personal fag” instead. Until that moment, no homosexual thoughts had made him curious enough to conceive something of the sort. The names Hugo called him back then still haunted him to this day.

“Queer.”

“Cutie.”

“Faggot.”

“Babe.”

“Homo.”

“Hun.”

None of the bashful terms came out as derogatory or mean, but as teasings. Wesley, who trusted Hugo with his life, complied to his older pal’s request — whom, then, reciprocated. He didn’t hate it. If anything, Wesley had loved it. It was way past midnight, both of them naked under Hugo’s sheets, when Wes decided on leaving.

“Stay, Wes.”

The high, but oh so masculine, voice of Hugo demanded him. Past and present muddled together, tears ran down on Wes’s cheeks.

“I can’t. My dad wanted me home by midnight and it’s 3 now.” Both Wesleys said in chorus.

“Don’t go back there. Stay with me, Wes. Here, just you and me.”

“I… I can’t. See you tomorrow, Hugo.”

They never saw each other again. Wes’s hair stood still on his arms as he reimagined the scene when he got home. His drunk father waited for him with a baseball bat. Wes had learned to bluff in front of him, but the man caught up a new smell around his son — mainly his breath.

“I ain’t gonna have a shit ass queer for a son!” The words repeated before Wes’s screams and pleas echoed through the neighbourhood.

Wes spent a few days in the hospital, learning afterward from his dad that he had taken care of Hugo. Since then, when his paternal noticed him weeping or thinking back to his friend, a new beating ensued. Wesley grew to hate him — Hugo. All of these beatings happened only because Hugo had forced himself on him — exploited his young vulnerable self. And yet, every time Wesley remembered that scene, he hurt himself up for it. He longed for that part of him to die with Hugo, to get rid of this heartache he constantly felt after that faithful night.

He didn’t even know who Oliver McClay really was. Wesley was a sophomore and he had heard about this younger student being a fag. The same part of him who wanted to kill himself targeted the homosexual and unleashed its own built-up rage against him. He had heard of the consequences his behaviour brought and, instead of facing the implications, he dropped out, a week before his 18th birthday.

Present-Wesley realized his joint was done. The images of his past were still vivid, but the stoner had enough strength to jerk the fag into the fireplace.

“Happy thoughts?” A distant voice echoed to his ears.

It took the smoker a moment to focus on the voice provenance, his vision clouded by the drug’s haze. His eyes settled on a giant silhouette by the double doors of the living room. The figure walked closer, holding a glowing object in its hand.

“Seb? Buddy, is that you?” The stoner asked, the image still somewhat blurry.

“Damn, that’s what you call being caught with pants down!” A more energetic voice added, grabbing a blinding light.

Wesley’s focus shifted a little, Sebastian and Theodore’s frames standing out more and more. The mocking sneer of the smaller guy was bursting his eardrums, as if they were combined to the countless laughter of the other kids in Middle School. Wesley shook his head to clear the disturbing thoughts. He tried to bring his hands to rub his face, only to realize he had one of them down his pants, wrapped around his softening manhood.

“Fuck! Dammit!” The stoner burst out, pulling his hand out and adopting a sitting position rather than lying.

His movements were slow and disoriented, as if he had forgotten what gravity was. He heard brief chuckles and some bickering, but instead on focussing on whatever they said or do, Wesley simply shut his eyes and lowered his head, a dull aching hitting it all of a sudden. He came to when a hand grabbed his shoulder. Wes shook it off and used his own to push it away.

“Fuck off, guys. Leave me alone.” He grumbled, pulling his pulsating head in his palms, feeling as if it might explode any seconds.

“Calm down, man. It’s me, Seb.”

“Go away, Seb. I was doing well by myself.”

“We definitely saw that.” Theo chirped in mischievously.

“Theo, can you fetch Wes some water, man?”

“Alright, alright.” The short lad complied, raising both hands in defeat. “Just don’t make it too gay while I’m gone!”

As the steps of the annoying nerd left the room, Wes felt his friend roughly rub his shoulder.

“What’s going on, man?” Seb asked him, concern written all over his face. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine, dude. Just been thinking about stuff.”

“It’s all good, man. Don’t bother about it. Theo’s quirky here and then, but he’s a good guy.”

“He’s still a nerd.” The stoner snarked.

Sebastian shook his shoulder while chuckling, bringing his friend to laugh as well.

“Come, Wes.”

“Stay, Wes.”

“What?” Wesley muttered, eyes snapping open in confusion.

“Don’t stay back here.”

“Don’t go back there.”

“Come with us, Wes.”

“Stay with me, Wes.”

Wesley’s face turned pale white, as if he just saw a ghost. Sebastian seemed to dematerialize before his eyes, changing into Hugo instead.

“I… I can’t…” The stoner spoke emptily.

“What?” Sebastian’s voice suddenly asked back, breaking the imagery.

“Here, drink this, bro.” Theo offered him a tall glass of water.

“Do you need painkillers too, man?” Seb added. “Jenny’s brought some if you need any, man.”

“I’ll be fine.” Wes mumbled, taking the water against his own will. “Just… leave me alone for a while. Is it too much to ask?”

His childhood friend looked at him with downheartedness. He gave him one last shoulder grip and stood up. Just as Theo and Seb were about to blend back into the darkness, he heard them ask:

“By the way, have you seen Jennifer, Wes?”

To which he answered: “No, I have not” before basking disconnected with reality, plunging back within his memories.


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:30 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


The beast let out a terrifying roar as the bullet hit its chest. A crimson-red glow appeared at the place the pellet touched the furry flesh, without even piercing through. Like a rippling effect, the light spread quickly all across the brute’s body, making it lurch and evolve even more into a monster. Its shoulders and stance cracked in a sickening way, widening considerably. Its humanoid clawed feet surged again in size, bearing more and more resemblance to mighty bear paws. The dense red hair covering the creature thickened further, making it look part-Wookie to some extent. The bullet, clinging to the skin, did not pierce through but dissipated into ashes.

“That HURT!” The monster growled.

“The… the fuck?!” Dimitri exclaimed in shock, surprised by the beast talking just as much by the dusted ammunition.

Having nowhere to run to, the host grabbed the bookshelf that priorly blocked his way out of the breaker and knocked it down onto the giant. Files and boxes fell on the creature and the lad used the slight distraction to jump over the desk, scattering countless papers all around the dark room.

“Come on, Dimi!” Victor encouraged him to get into the other room — the reunion room.

After shutting the door closed and bypassing the table, the four young men barged into the bar where the beast previously ravaged the liquor shelves. Upon noticing the destroyed displays that his parents showed off to their friends and colleagues, Dimitri feared the future wrath Larry and himself would receive from their folks — dying to a Wookie didn’t look so bad after all, then.

“AHHH!” Larry groaned in pain, slipping and dropping the pumpkin on the floor, its light stifling off.

“Hush!” Braxton hissed until he realized what just happened.

“My foot!” The lad moaned, trying to keep balance while standing on a single foot.

Dimitri used his flashlight to look at his brother’s foot, bleeding abundantly — a glass shard stuck in it.

“What did you do?!” The older sibling asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

“The glass!” The footballer hit his own head in reminiscence. “Careful, there’s broken glass all over the floor!”

Dimitri moved his light for the ground, noticing many bottles of booze and liquor shattered all over the place. He considered himself lucky in that instant to wear his dad’s boots. Even if they were undersized for him, it was a price he didn’t mind to pay rather than have a piece of glass go through his foot.

“Why are you barefoot?!” Dimitri exasperated.

The host suddenly glanced back at the meeting room as something loud broke down in there. The imminent thuds of the beast grew closer to their emplacement.

“I was in my room! Why would I have—…?” Larry started, the stinging pain clouding his judgment.

“Let’s go!” Braxton commanded, grabbing the injured guy onto his shoulder and leading the way back into the theatre.

Larry gasped, taken aback by the footballer’s sudden altruistic action. While Braxton was strong, carrying the wounded brother proved no easy feat. The rush of adrenaline probably contributed to why he could lift him without too much difficulty. The quartet barely made it in the next room when the monster caught up with it.

“Stop right there!” Its powerful voice boomed in the darkness.

“Make one more step and I’ll shoot you—…!” The cowboy warned, targeting for the head.

“Are you really going to shoot your best bro again, Dimi?” The beast heckled with a mocking laugh.

“W— what?!” Dimitri exclaimed in shock, lowering his aim.

“Don’t listen to him!” Victor shouted.

“Oh, will you shut up, Vic!” The creature growled in annoyance, approaching the superhero.

“Don’t you move!” The host ordered, stepping in between them and threatening the red monster with his shotgun. “What did you do to Asher?!”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, bro? I AM Asher.”

“That’s… that’s impossible!” Dimitri cried, starting to tremble. “You’re NOT Asher!”

And yet, the longer he looked at the massive bear of a man, the more Dimitri could see bits of his missing friend into him. The red fur, the bushy beard, the stance, the playful expression… the cowboy shook his head, aiming for the monster’s face once more.

“You CAN’T be Asher!” He denied, his very core on the brink of surrendering to tears.

“Wait, Dimi!” Braxton intervened before turning back to the proclaimed missing friend. “If… this is really Asher… then that means, Asher was the imposter all along, right?”

The three other men looked the accuser when the beast burst with laughter.

“And why would that be me, Brax?” It mocked.

“You… you turned into this… werewolf or bear thing!” He blurted out, feeling cheated on. “You were the fucking queer all along!”

Asher’s chuckling grew sour and his smirk faltered. How ironic of the werewolf footballer to call him that way.

“Are you really that stupid, bro?” The monster snarked. “Even if I knew who the imposter was, I would not tell any of your dumb homophobic asses!”

“A— Asher! We gotta cooperate! What happened to you? How… how can we turn you back to normal?” Dimitri asked.

“I have been turned by the imposter — I lost the game.” He answered with a toothy grin. “Perhaps you’ll learn a lesson or two when you’ll lose as well!”

“That’s enough!” Braxton shouted.

The footballer put the agonizing Larry on a theatre seat and went for the host. He tried taking his gun away, intent on using it on the monster proclaiming to be Asher.

“Stop it, Brax!” Dimitri struggled.

“That thing’s tricking with us! It’s not Asher!”

“Wait! We don’t know! Maybe it’s…”

“You’re too naive, Dimi! Hand me your gun!”

“No!”

The fighting men tumbled on top of one another, wrestling for the firearm. Their fall resulted in detonating a shot across the room.

“Stop it, guys!” Larry pleaded. “Victor! Stop them! Do something!”

The weapon rested on the floor next to the tackling boys, hitting at each other with fists. Victor, scared to look away from the monster, tried telling the battling men to cease bickering — to no avail. The door leading upstairs suddenly opened drastically, two figures coming in.

“What’s going on, here?” Theodore called, barging inside first.

“Guys, what are you doing?” Sebastian asked, noticing the two buddies roughing each other up on the ground.

“It’s Asher! The monster’s Asher!” Dimitri cried, spiting some blood.

“No, it’s not! We gotta kill it before it kills us too!” Braxton chimed in, his nose bleeding out on top of his childhood friend.

“Monster?” Theo gasped, looking around.

“There!” Victor pointed toward the bar’s door.

But there was no more such thing. The creature which had called itself Asher was gone.


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 12:50 AM ~
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Wesley couldn’t believe how much of a dumbass he made himself look like in front of the guys — especially in front of his childhood friend Sebastian. He chuckled at his own self, he was a whole joke on itself after all. He glanced back at his stash on the short table and wondered if he should make another joint still. As much as he hated his past with Hugo, smoking weed was part of a secret yet forbidden pleasure he longed for. After a few puffs, the flow of memories that assailed him soothed him in remembering the bliss from that night.

He heard a loud banging sound, like a detonation. The noise plunged him back into his recollections, to the time his father threatened to take his life with a gun. The scenery changed to another one, completely imaginary, where he saw Oliver McClay standing in front of him, in some unknown room. The teen was the epitome of the fag stereotype — his feminine features and clean hairless skin were complemented with blue eyes and dyed blond hair. His plump lips called for sucking cock and the stiff yet awkward grin of him cried for the annoying gay lisping. Wes wanted to bang his head on the wall, to obliterate every part of the queer that reminded him of his secret.

And yet, when he saw the guy raise a gun to his own temple, an afflicting emptiness filled the stoner. In a futile attempt to prevent the incoming suicide, Wesley tripped and fell from the couch as a detonation echoed once again in his mind. He began to sob uncontrollably. He was used to seeing these haunted visions when he smoked, but somehow they hit harder and more painfully tonight. Was it because of how he had been outed as a murderer earlier in front of his friends? He’s always hated the homosexuals since his father’s beating, yet there was one thing he detested above them all — himself. He had tried to believe the death of Oliver would bring him some peace, as if he had killed the very part of himself he despised from it.

But no — it was still there. Deep down, he had loved Hugo. If he had just one more chance, a way to go back in time and, this time, stay rather than leave, he would do it in a heartbeat. Each moment he sank into these visions, he had hoped to finally overcome this profoundly rooted fear of staying.

“Why are you crying, Wes?” Hugo’s voice asked.

“Fuck you! I’m not crying!”

“Could have fooled me. What’s going on, Wes?”

“I… I wanted to stay.” He sobbed, his eyes wet and unfocussed. “I’m… I’m tired of running away! Of running from you! Of running from myself!”

“…then, stay with me, Wes.” The voice said.

Wesley burst into tears and dropped to his knees. He clutched at Hugo’s legs, their warmth comforting him.

“I’ve… I’ve always wanted to be with you! I was young and stupid! Will you ever forgive me, bro?”

“I’m not the one you have to apologize to, Wes.”

“You… you’re right. I should forgive… myself.”

No answer, but the hands of his imaginary lover caressed his mop of dirty hair.

“I just… I just want to lay there with you. To fool around, get drunk, watch movies, smoke fags… I just want to be with you, Hugo. Like in the good old times…”

“Do… you want to smoke on my fag, bro?”

“That’s so gay, bro…” Wes actually chuckled at their past reference. “But for you, I’d do anything, Hugo.”

“...then get going, bro. No homo, right?” The voice chuckled.

“Right. No homo, bro.”


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 1:00 AM ~
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Jennifer checked her delicate nails with a wide smile across her face. The new polish she’s applied earlier was finally dried up. The pumpkins and ghost patterns she alternated between her fingers looked gorgeous. Sitting on the bed in the guest room she would have shared with Theo for their stay, she had been following the latest Elle magazine she had bought for her nightly read before sleep. The time it took to dry her nail polish was inexorably long, but at least she had her book to entertain herself, in the meantime.

Deciding to take a moment to appreciate the view of her 20 painted nails in a large mirror, she entered the bathroom next door. Lantern in hand, it actually proved to be easier to maneuver and do her things rather than holding a flashlight.

“I’m such a genius!” She mumbled to herself with a smug smile.

Upon seeing her body in the glass, she was greeted with a surprise, however. Her bulb-like hair didn’t retain its shape and had deflated into some awkward, flattop, poison mushroom.

“So much for having a good time, huh?” She commented.

She hadn’t thought of how hot she could get when having fun. She tried to pull the form back up, but there was nothing to do. She would need more hairspray for that, which was in the first-floor bathroom while she was on the second. She didn’t want to walk by stoned Wes again. However, she also figured the man was probably harmless anyway with that much drug in him. She knew how to defend herself anyway if anything went wrong.

Jennifer grabbed the lantern on the counter and headed out to the hall’s mezzanine. She descended the steps, holding her light and humming an improvised tune when moving shadows and odd noises caught her attention in the living room. The double doors were ajar and the sounds that came from there were definitely intriguing. She actually could have gone directly for her destination under the staircase, but her curiosity took the best out of her.

Softly, she approached the doors and peeked inside the room. To prevent a loud gasp, she blocked her mouth with her free hand. There, by the fireplace, Wes was on his knees… giving a blowjob to a gigantic creature. Moreover, as she witnessed the devious scenery before her, she saw Wesley’s body changing — mostly growing.

The man filled his ample costume, then passed it still. The zombie clothes, already damaged when Wesley arrived, tore further, exposing parts of his slim but increasingly hairy build. The watch around his wrist snapped and fell to the ground in a dim clatter. His forearms and biceps inflated like pumped balloons. Wesley’s back stretched in all directions, especially upward. Whereas the red-hair monster receiving a blowjob appeared about seven feet tall, in comparison to the nearby doorframe, the one on its knees slowly had to lean more as it picked on a staggering height. The old tramp jacket split across the upper seams, revealing how broad Wesley’s shoulders were getting.

The overused sneakers around the lanky giant’s feet burst, attaining a size that would rival a basketball player’s. As they reached further on the ground — thanks to the lengthening shins — , Jennifer gasped in horror at the growing menacing claws jutting out of each toe, scraping the floorboards of the living room. The audible screeching made by these only made her slowly falter with unease. The groans of the standing monster intensified, becoming louder and more demanding. He was about to cum.

Jennifer watched silently the scene unfolding before her eyes — it looked as if it came from a nightmare. With a powerful growl, the burly behemoth ejaculated. The one on its knees moaned through the oversized organ that filled his mouth. Copious amounts of semen dribbled on the floor, the dripping echoing in the room with rallentando.

Feeling enough sober to know she was not imagining things, Jennifer understood. This wasn’t just a silly game anymore. This whole thing was real. And anyone who would lose would eventually turn into a monster like these. The massive red furred beast pulled out from the now gigantic but still slender Wesley, whose eyes shone scarlet with the same devilish aura.

“Avenge the gays!” Wesley cheered with a new, deeper timber. “Convert the homophobes — until there are none!”

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Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. Three of them are missing. After the party is mostly reunited, the supernatural events of the night forces the remaining ones to split up yet again.

 

~ One of Us ~
Chapter 4 — Split

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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 1:15 AM ~
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A high-pitched scream resounded across the whole mansion. Theodore felt the hair on his arms and neck stand on their ends, recognizing Jenny’s cry. He turned to the other guys in the basement, stunned as well.

“That’s Jen!” He exclaimed, bolting for the staircase.

“But the door is…” Victor started, silencing once he realized it had been opened after the arrival of the two friends.

“C’mon! Stop fighting!” Seb shot at the two men on the floor before going after his pal.

Victor helped Braxton on his feet, before giving a death glare to their host still on the ground. Despite their diverging opinion on the matter, the footballer offered Dimitri his hand to pull him back up. 

“Get ready, Dimi.” Braxton spoke with a grave face, holding the gun now. “I don’t think this monster is gonna let us run all night.”

“Hey! Guys! Don’t leave me alone!” Larry cried after them, unable to walk by himself.

“Get to your room and lock your door!” His elder told him before sprinting upstairs after the jocks. “Get to safety until we come back for you!”

Dimitri didn’t bother with his brother’s complaints and kept going. As he arrived on the first floor, he had noticed how someone had barricaded the double doors of the living room with the hall’s decorative table. Abruptly, the gigantic red beast burst through the meagre obstacle. Jennifer screamed again, huddling to her boyfriend by the staircase leading up. The size of the monster was outrageous, thicker in proportions to the broad footballer and the superhero’s bodies fused together.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Victor boomed in shock at the sudden barging of the demon.

The blond guy raised his shield in a protective manner, blocking the way for Braxton and Dimitri to walk further forward. The giant’s face, illuminated by the flashlights, bared even less human-like features than earlier. The jaw had widened considerably, only to behold a rather sinister toothy grin.

“Asher, bro! Please, stop!” Dimitri begged.

“Asher?!” Sebastian and the couple exclaimed at the same time.

The towering creature kicked the table and the door remnants from its way with feet that would befit a bear. It sized the terrified adults in the hall with amused malice, scratching the lewd display of its naked crotch — a massive drooling dong, half hard, twitched with every step, spewing more sticky essence on the tiled ceramics of the foyer.

“Eww, gross! That thing’s nutting all over your floor, Dimi!” Theodore expressed with disgust.

“Ain’t it gay to stare at a guy’s dick, Theo?” The monster taunted at the nerd, walking forward.

“Hey!” Sebastian stepped in between the two, baring a fist in lieu of his forgotten axe. “If you are going to turn on us, you’d better fight against someone of your own size!”

“Don’t make me laugh, Seb! You’re not even HALF my size!” The massive brute chuckled at the valiancy of the lumberjack.

Just as things couldn’t seem more out of hand, a second monster walked into the hall, behind the so-called Asher. Instead of looking butch and burly, this one appeared way thinner, almost atrophied in comparison to the other, but huge nonetheless. Taller than the red behemoth, the arriving beast had a dirty blondish hue to the fur-like hair that covered most of its body — with a twinge of ashy grey.

“Fuck, Ash, that felt good!” The lighter-haired giant groaned in bliss, stretching and relishing its joints popping into place.

“W— Wesley?” Jennifer called timidly. “Is… is that you?”

“Wesley?!” The boys cried out in shock.

“Missed me, guys?” The creature asked with a smug face, grabbing Asher’s shoulders with its long and clawed fingers, playfully shoving it.

“Enough of this nonsense!” Victor snapped. “These things are messing with us! They’re not our friends!”

“No! They are!” The sole girl in the room insisted, pulling free from her lover’s embrace.

“Shut up, woman!”

“No, you shut up, you piece of shit!” Jennifer asserted. “I saw it! That thing… it turned Wes into this… this monster!”

“Nonsense!” The superhero denied, pivoting to Braxton who held onto Dimi’s shotgun. “Show them, Brax! Kill those freaks!”

“No! Brax, wait!” Dimitri uttered.

“Shoot!”

“No!”

BAM.

The pressured footballer shot at the lankier monster, hoping it would be more vulnerable than the bear-sized beast. Cries echoed in the vast hall. Wesley fell to his knees as the bullet hit him and blasted into dust. The same crimson hue as with Asher earlier spread through the new target. Watching his pal drop to all fours on the ground, the red creature growled ferociously at the trio by the staircase.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” Asher snarled, baring its fangs as his jaw suddenly popped and cracked, jutting forward into a harmful maw.

“What… what the fuck?! You, fucking queer monster!” Victor stepped back, fearing for his life.

The monster roared at them menacingly, out of spite.

“Run!” The superhero ironically ordered, jumping out of the way and exposing the two other guys to the beast.

Asher leaped at them. Both Braxton and Dimitri bolted down the stairs in a clumsy attempt to avoid the behemoth. The host tumbled in his dad’s tight boots, hitting the wall hard by the sharp corner midway. Only when the footballer turned around did he see his friend slip the last of the steps.

“Dimi!” He cried.

“What’s going on?!” Larry’s voice echoed from the theatre room.

Braxton rushed for Dimitri when the gigantic red beast suddenly loomed over him.

“Get away from him!” He yelled, charging and shooting at the monster once more.

Asher stepped back, then stumbled himself in the stairs. Braxton benefited of this small moment of tranquility to help his stunned friend on his feet.

“You… you shouldn’t have done that, Brax…” Dimitri groaned, groggy.

“It’ll buy us some time! Let’s go.”

“Ge— get my brother back upstairs, Brax! Ba— barricade the door!”

“What?! We can’t let you down here, man!”

“Hear me out! I’ll exit through the backdoor! Let’s trap… that thing here!”

Before Braxton could add anything, the fiery monster, whose face looked more akin to that of a bear or a werewolf, roared back at the two thick adults. Its head appeared even more sinister and devil-like. Small horns poked from the beast’s forehead, its humanity draining more with each bullet it took.

“I’ll lure it!” Dimitri whispered to his friend.

Without further ado, the footballer nodded. He handed the cowboy his shotgun back, but Dimitri let him have it.

“Keep it and help the others upstairs!”

“Got it! Stay safe, bro!”

Braxton ran into the theatre, where Asher had not moved from his seat near the bar-room. He still had the glass shard deeply stuck into his foot arch, a livid grimace stretched onto his stubbly face.

“What’s going on, Brax?” The wounded lad asked, his foot on his thigh to prevent bleeding too much. “What’s happening?”

“Let’s get to safety, man!”

Just then, Dimitri entered the room, taunting Asher to follow him. The monster, far taller and wider than the door now, barely could get through without breaking the frame altogether. Its horns scratched and ruined the ceiling, plaster raining down on the demon’s head. It glanced briefly at the two young men at the other end of the theatre before Dimitri blinded him with his flashlight.

“Hey, Ash! Look at me, bro! Come on! Try and catch me if you can!” The host beckoned.

Asher, despite the light going straight at him, glared in the direction of Dimitri, his red eyes shining like irradiated rubies. Its maw full of fangs showed strings of saliva that gave the impression of hunger. The beast’s body turned to face the cowboy, grinning cunningly at him.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way, Dimi.” It beamed before darting toward him.


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 1:25 AM ~
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“Wes!” Jennifer reached for the creature on its knees in the hall.

While the so-called Asher ran after Dimitri and Braxton down the stairs, Sebastian and the couple went for the seemingly agonizing beast on the ground. Even on all fours, the eight-foot monster of a man appeared gigantic to them. The red energy that wrapped the behemoth ceased almost instantly. Jennifer screamed in fear as the shoulders of the lanky creature puffed like dough in the oven, bubbling and swelling with size, spreading farther one from the other. The previously gangly build of the giant broadened as its lats surged wider than ever, thick corded muscle taking form under the increasingly hairier skin.

WAAARRRGGGGGHH!” The monster roared, raising its head abruptly.

The whole skeleton of the beast firmed up. While it did not look anywhere close to the bulky bellied behemoth from earlier, its musculature had notably grown. It stretched to a rather athletic frame, almost bodybuilder size, even. The claws that jutted out of its long sausage-thick fingers growing more prominent and threatening, scratching and cracking the tiled floors. The red of its eyes shifted to a deeper crimson shade, appearing more demonic by the second.

“Wes?” Sebastian gasped, trying to step closer while Jennifer and Theodore backed out. “Is that really you in there?”

A dreadful pop resonated as its jaw widened into a fearful drooling maw. The giant humanoid turned its head toward the lumberjack-now-blue-collar, never letting go of its hysteric-looking leer.

“Yes, Seb, that’s me.” It responded, getting back on its legs.

The hirsute bear of a man stood back on its feet, reaching upward and then some. Lanky stoned Wes had transformed into an eight-foot-tall jacked monster. While they could have made out some sort of resemblance with his face earlier, the last growth spurt had not left it unaltered. The thick stubbly chin had changed the previously angular shape considerably.

“What… what happened to you, man?” Sebastian asked, his eyes teary.

“Smoked a guy’s fag.” The beast shot before booming with laughter, like this was all a joke. “Ain’t you gonna try smoking mine, bro?”

Shamelessly, Wesley grabbed a handful of his semi-soft yet leaking monster cock — the thing looked to be at least a foot long and not even completely hard. Sebastian jerked back in shock, glancing down at the lewd display with appalled concern.

“Wes! What the fuck! What’s gotten into you!” His childhood friend snapped.

“I stopped running away… and perhaps you should as well!” He declared, approaching him.

“Don’t— stay back!” The lumberjack cried in astonishment, attempting to step away.

But that just wouldn’t do. The transformed lad was not intending on leaving him alone. A few seconds later, Sebastian was dashing for his dear life across the hall, Wesley going after him like a crazed dog with rabies. 

“Seb!” Jennifer worried as she saw them bolting for the dining room.

“What’s going on, here?!” Braxton said, climbing up the stairs into the foyer with Larry on his shoulder.

“It’s Seb! Wes went after him!” The girl exclaimed, huddling against her boyfriend.

“Where are they at?” The footballer asked, putting the wounded lad by the steps.

“Oh my God! What happened to you?!” Jenny gasped, pointing the brother’s bleeding foot.

“Walked on glass.” He gritted between his teeth. “What’s going on with Wes?”

“Jen says he turned into a monster like Asher.” Braxton spoke. “But, first, we’ve gotta help Seb!”

“Get him in the bathroom then, you guys, go help Seb!” The fairy commanded, leading the way. “I’ll patch him up!”

The lanky lumberjack had always had the advantage when sprinting against his peers. While not a runner at all, his tall legs made his strides long and easy to cover lengthier distances. Sebastian crossed the whole dining room, lightened by the supernatural fire in the fireplace. With nowhere to escape to, he locked himself in the kitchen. He doubted the door would suffice to protect him from the monster taking aim at him. Seb glanced around, trying to find a way out, but apart from the pantry, there were no more means out. Suddenly, the kitchen door burst opened, kicked off its hinges. The beast barged in, no sweat at all.

“You’ve always been the fastest, Seb.” Wesley ducked into the room, grinning at him. “Not so much anymore, shortie, huh?”

“Look, Wes… even if you are the imposter or anything, man… let’s just talk, okay?” The orange-vest guy spoke.

Stretching back to it towering height, the creature actually hit its head on the eight-foot-tall ceiling. Unfazed, its gleaming red eyes trailed every movement of the frightened lad. The kitchen was a dead end. Even if Sebastian attempted to jump through a window, he’d probably just hurt himself from the screen or the fall.

“So you think I’m the imposter, man?” Wes taunted, leaning on the short doorframe, a broad grin spread on his prominent jaw. “Admit it loud and clear if you want to lose already.”

“I don’t know!” Seb shouted, anxious that the beast would never leave an opening for him to flee.

“Remember when we used to play tag? How much you laughed at me for being too slow?”

“If I’ve ever been mean to you, Wes, I’m sorry!” Sebastian cried out. “I was just teasing you cause I liked you, man!”

“Ah! Now you’re just being a big drama queen. I’m just teasing you myself, Seb.”

“What?”

“Gee, you’re slower than me tonight. That says a lot, man!” Wes chuckled, scratching then grabbing his junk. “Perhaps this should help you out?”

“What?! No! Fuck off! You’re not Wes! Wes ain’t g—…”

“Wes has ALWAYS been gay. Or bisexual would probably better. Or even pansexual.”

“No! I’ve known Wes since we were kids! Wes had always hated…”

“Wes had always hated HIMSELF!” The beast spoke louder, silencing the man. “You’ve known Wes as a conflicted unassuming child!”

“But… would that mean… Wes was faking all along?”

“Faking would be a wide stretch!” He guffawed, making Sebastian back off in fear at the exclamation. “I’d rather say old-Wesley only repressed and denied who he was all along!”

“Then…” Seb mumbled. “Does that mean… Wes was the imposter all along?”

“Say what?” Wesley enticed. “Care to repeat it louder?”

“Were you the imposter?” Sebastian inquired with betrayal.

“Don’t ask — declare it with conviction!”

The scared man bit his tongue. The smile stretched on Wes’s face did not inspire him confidence. Then, he remembered the rules they were narrated earlier — guessing wrong would make him lose. On the opposite, speaking right would put an end to this hellish nightmare. Sebastian could tell the beast figured his conflict. The way it had encouraged him to claim it as the imposter could have been Wes reaching out for him, using his late sacrifice to let them go. However, it could also have been this twisted perverted version of his childhood friend trying to make him lose.

And honestly, if he had to give up on himself for Wesley, even if that’s just to rule out Wes as a potential faker for his buddies, he would have done it… if it was not for his girl waiting back for him in the shed. The thought of Mathilda lying all alone in the shack hit him like brick thrown at his face. The game was real — she could not fall asleep or she would lose.

“Mathilda!” Sebastian exclaimed. “Wes — please, man — just let me go!”

“What’s gotten into you, Seb?” Wes feigned surprise.

“You sick bastard! I trusted you! If you’ve laid a single hand on her—…”

“Then what?”

Right then, a voice surged from the dining room.

“Seb?! Where are you?!”

That was Braxton.

“I’m coming for you, man!” The footballer cried. “These fuckers ain’t got anything on us!”

“Someone! Go check on Mathilda!” The lumberjack pleaded.

“What?”

“She’s in the shed! Make sure she did not fall asleep!”

“But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me! Just get her to safety!”

Sebastian heard steps walking away and some people talking — probably Theo and Braxton. If it hadn’t been for being trapped in the kitchen with the lewd monstrous version of Wesley, he would have gone to check on Mathilda in a heartbeat. Yet, he was stuck here, powerless, with the gigantic creature his friend apparently became.


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 1:45 AM ~
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Braxton sprinted to the shed. Theodore tried catching up with him, but the tall footballer proved to be a better runner — he used to be a Running Back after all. Braxton was not really sure of the directions to take, forcing him to wait on the short wizard holding the flashlight.

“There it is!” Theo exclaimed. “Mathilda! Are you in there?”

“Mathilda!” Braxton repeated.

The lights of the shed were shut. Where there were no sounds at first, a deep guttural growl made itself heard from inside the outbuilding. Braxton held firmly onto the shotgun, aiming it at the door. It opened with a frightful slowness, creaking obnoxiously. A figure started to detach from the shadows as a virile voice boomed at them.

“There’s no Mathilda in here!”

Braxton saw Theodore step back and gasp — he probably did the same without realizing it. To their horror, the two men outside witnessed a gigantic beast ducking out of the cabin.

“For fuck’s sake!” Braxton blurted out in befuddlement, slightly lowering the gun in shock.

Lightened by the moon and Theo’s shaking torch, the giant in front of them looked almost as tall as the shed. The seven-foot Latino was covered in ink-black hair. His massive chest and dark nipples were nearly obscured under a rag of bristles, snaking down its shredded six-pack to the forest-like bush framing a hard, drooling monster cock. Ridiculously, the behemoth had an opened flannel vest on its shoulders. The enviable biceps had burst the sleeves apart — the stupefied men wouldn’t be surprised if the back of the gilet had split wide either on the broad juggernaut. The toque they realized Sebastian had been missing now saw on the head of the giant, whom also held the forgotten axe.

“My name is Matt.” Its deep voice declared, the resonance shaking the two diminutive guys in front of him.

“Matt… as in Mathilda?!” Theo fathomed. “This can’t be… that means…”

“That means I lost the game.” It continued, a toothy grin stretching across its large face.

“But… but how?! This!” Braxton pointed with the gun at the beast’s crotch. “Mathilda ain’t a dude!”

“I guess she just grew some balls, literally.” Matt chuckled, giving his boner a few jerks, pulling it aside to show them.

“This is not just a game with consequences!” Theo exclaimed. “This is witchcraft!”

“How ironic of you to say that.” The monster smirked at the wizard before basking in bliss, quickening the pace of its lewd strokes.

“Stop that! That’s gross and disgusting!” The footballer scorned with a shake of his head.

“Fuck… if that’s what it feels like to be a man, I don’t ever want to go back.” It spoke, deaf to the disdain of the boys. “Wanna chop down some wood with me, guys?”

“What do we do now, Brax? We can’t bring her… or him back!” Theo realized, stepping away.

“Don’t you guys wish to know what it’s like to be like this?” Matt goaded on, raising his free arm and flexing, a few resisting threads snapping while doing so. “Muscular, big, and tall?”

“This… this is wrong!” Braxton stuttered, beet red.

“Wrong?” Matt chimed. “And ruining your teammate’s life because he was gay is right?”

“I… I…”

“Don’t lecture us on what’s good and bad!” Theo stepped in. “I’m pretty sure all of us, except maybe Wes, is pretty damn conscious what we’ve done wasn’t right! So let us be!”

“Let you be so you can go back to being assholes after this night’s over? Where’s the lesson in that?”

“We’ve had our lesson!”

“Old habits die hard, I’m afraid.” The giant sniggered. “How about you just accept it your punishment and get on my fat cock instead?”

“Bro, we’re not fucking fags!” The wizard spurned.

“There you go again. Sounds like you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

“Do we… would we get big and tall for real?” Braxton timidly questioned, which was uncommon for the usually loud man.

“Doesn’t Mathilda look like a doll compared to me?” The massive creature grinned, contracting its arm.

“Bro, are you for real?!” Theo turned at Braxton with bewilderment.

“Fuck off! Just asking!” The footballer growled back at him. “Aren’t you tired of being so fuckin’ small, Theo?!”

“What?! I mean… I wouldn’t mind being a bit taller, but I’m fine with the way I am too!”

“Right, cause I’m sure girls looove little shrimps!” The jock snarked.

“I’m big where it counts, bro! If you’re having issues even at your size, you’re having a fuckin’ problem, bro!”

Braxton turned around and aimed the gun at Theodore, making the wizard grow livid instantly. The shorter man gasped and actually feared for his life. Braxton gritted his teeth, his adrenaline through the roof, hormones boiling within him. Targeting toward Theo had been an impulse keen to when he ruined Richard’s life.

“Don’t make me.” The footballer advised. “Now, little Theo will listen and go back inside. He will tell the others Braxton is taking care of it and to not look out for him until he comes back.”

“You’re a maniac, bro.” Theodore murmured, arms in the air and stepping back.

“Do it!”

Theodore yelped and ran back for the mansion, leaving the footballer alone with the silent but still stroking beast. Braxton turned around at the towering Matt, whose expression showed amusement. The juggernaut approached him, yet Braxton spun and raised the gun once more. Confusion spread upon the Latino’s face.

“Don’t move.”

It obeyed. Despite standing immobile, it kept jacking off openly, spewing precum all over the grass. The slick sounds of the strokes distracted the disgusted jock.

“Dude, please stop. That’s gay.” Braxton commented, slowly dropping his aim to the ground.

“Weren’t you used to see your team beat off in the showers?” Matt asked.

Images of the past surged back to the footballer. When he showered with the boys the first few times, he had put on a pair of underwear, self-conscious of what other guys would think. However, after a couple practices with the crew and a few teasings, he forced himself to try at least once to go in the nude.

Seeing the lads sport hardons wasn’t new — he was getting used to it. A round of applause and whistles welcomed him when he entered naked, the older ones stating he was finally over the rookie’s prudishness. It was the very same day where he saw one of the teammates openly jacking off in the shower. He could still remember the slick sounds of his strokes, the wanks heard in tandem with the deviated water jets on the wall. Some of the athletes teased their comrade rubbing one out, calling him gay and names. Braxton agreed with them, believing the remarks as true, until he found them join in a jerk circle in the middle of the crew. The teen could not understand it and excused himself, leaving the room unwashed.

After the next practice, one of the older players, a senior, told him there was no shame in wanking off in the showers with the guys. There was nothing gay about — just pals relieving the tension after a good workout. Heck, they weren’t getting off on staring at their mates’ butts or dicks or muscles. That would be gay indeed! Braxton didn’t join in the jerk circle frenzies until the end of the season, too uncomfortable to do so before. That was their secret after all. A bond that united them as brothers.

“I… sometimes, yeah.” Braxton said, averting his eyes, blushing as he remembered. “But I was minding my own business. That’s all.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t stare up at them too long. That would be gay, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Stop staring, Brax. That’s gay.” A voice surfaced on the depths of Braxton’s mind, recalling the time where Scott, the quarterback, noticed him glancing for too long at his dick.

“Huh… sorry, bro. Was thinking about girls.” Braxton had replied, blushing red and looking away.

“Let him be.” Another teammate said with a coy smile. “Brax loves big clit chicks!” 

“That’s not true! Ahh… fuck off guys!” The Running Back groaned. “I was… I was…”

“You what, bro?”

“I was just wondering how a girl could take something that big, bro.” He blushed, pointing at the nine-incher Scott sported.

“Oh! I guess that’s legit, man.” Another guy commented. “How do you do, Scott?”

“You guys have never fucked your girl in the ass?”

“Eww, dude, that’s nasty!” One chimed in.

“It’s pretty chill, guys.” Scott winked. “It hella tighter than puss and much deeper. And you can’t get her preggo, so no need for magnums!”

“Duuude.”

The memories vanished once more as Braxton saw Matt approaching him. The alerted footballer raised his gun again, ordering the beast to stop moving.

“Why did you?” Matt asked.

“Why did I what?”

“Why did you turn on the others?”

“I didn’t turn on anyone!” Braxton fumed, preparing to shoot.

“Is this the muscles?” The behemoth arched a bicep, smirking at him.

“Fuck off!”

“Perhaps…” The beast brought both of its arms to its narrow hips — yet wider than Brax — , stretching and flexing. “The size itself?”

Braxton suddenly grew weak at the side, watching the massive monster rise like a tower of lean but athletic heft. Unconsciously, he dropped the gun’s aim to the ground, marvelling at the sheer magnitude before him.

“You like that, Brax?” Matt taunted with a knowing grin, then gesturing down.

The disguised man looked down and realized with horror a bulge tented his trousers. Just like when he trained with Richard Biggs. He pictured them and the rest of the team, working out at the gym. Richard was the newbie that season. Similarly to Braxton himself in the past, Richard took a while adjusting to the brotherhood. After he finally fit in, the guy was simply like any of his other jocks.

The memory that came to Braxton in this very instant was the time where he saw the man squat a personal best: 350 pounds. That was heavier than Brax could lift then — they were teens after all. Still, Braxton offered to spot him in case anything went wrong. Watching the tower rise all the way to 6′6″ and stooping back down had triggered something Braxton himself had not realized before. It was not only the idea of being taller than everyone that had motivated him to train, but the thought of boundless growth.

Braxton was not into boys, but into the growth that made him a man. The growth that had made him a tall — yet short — guy among his peers. A size women gawked at. A size that imbued respect and sheer masculinity. In the end, he just wanted to shine and be admired — nothing more, nothing less.

“I’ve always wanted to be bigger… taller.”

“You’re already pretty big, aren’t you?”

“No.” He shook. “Not at all. I wanted to be bigger. To be a star on the field, someone people aspired to look up to.”

“And you think that hurting homosexuals is a way to achieve that?”

“It happened once! Or, okay, maybe a few times, but the reason why I did this to Richard was because I couldn’t stand how much better he was!” He cried, shaking as he finally said what had tormented him for years. “Yes, I outed him. Yes, I hated him, but that’s only cause I was fucking jealous! A stupid jealous prick!”

The footballer’s body trembled, flushed with indignation and sorrow. The mocking grin of the monster softened, almost showing consideration.

“How about you make up for it?”

“What?”

“You’ve already let your friends know you might not come back. Just lose the game to me and you’ll become what you desire.”

“How?”

“By letting me fuck you.”

Braxton’s face grew livid. The tent he had pitched earlier had completely softened at this point.

“There’s no way you’ll be able to suck me, so this leaves it up to your ass.” Matt grinned smugly.

“No… fucking… way…”

“Yes way. Consider that a good introduction to your gay life!”

“But… I don’t want to be gay!”

“Is being gay a bad thing?”

“Well… I just… I guess not… but… I don’t want to be made fun of for being a queer!”

“Then join us and let’s make the world a better place, where nobody shall make fun of gays anymore.”

The utopian declaration almost made Braxton laugh. And he wanted to burst hysterically. He wasn’t even sure what to think anymore. Was he really about to trade his heterosexuality for the size of his dreams? To sell his soul to these demons?

Matt moved toward him, seized the shotgun then threw it away. Braxton looked up at the massive Latino. The glowing red eyes, their gaze intensely hypnotic, still had him deeply conflicted on his decision. On one side, he wanted to just forget about all of this and return to his normal straight life. On the other end, this screamed not only like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, also an act of redemption for his past deeds.

The shivering man felt the big clawed hand of the giant grab his shoulders with a firm grip. The contact warmed him, the palm burning with virile energy. Braxton tried not to show his nervousness. The toothy smile almost looked reassuring — if not for the fangs.

“Turn around if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” He gasped, biting his tongue, but spun anyway.

“Drop to all fours. You ever did anal, before?”

Braxton fell to his knees and hands. His heart beat so hard it felt as if he could spit it out. He swallowed his saliva, his mouth growing pasty.

“Yeah, but never on this end.” He dryly said, thighs and shoulders tensed.

He could still run for it. The sensation of the soft earth under his knees and fingers. The smell of grass and leaves — the chilly air against his skin. He exhaled, some condensation clouding before him as his eyes focussed on the mansion in the distance. With the football uniform, Braxton could only project himself into a game. The dark sky, only illuminated by the full moon, reminded him of the weak lighting of their school’s grounds at night. He could feel his quivering body whelming him with adrenaline. But there were no opponents on the field. Only him, showing his tight end to the gigantic Matt.

Matt palmed the asscheeks, testing the firmness of the Running Back’s behind. Braxton gritted his teeth, lowering his head slightly as his whole self tensed in fear and repulsion. The angel and the demon on his shoulders cried contradictions, splitting him further into dilemma.

“RUN!” A voice echoed from the back of his mind.

“STAY!” Another commanded.

“You DON’T want this!”

“You DO want this!”

“You are NOT gay!”

“You WILL be gay!”

STOP!” Braxton exclaimed aloud, the voices suddenly silenced.

“Having second thoughts?” Matt chuckled, his hand still on his ass although motionless.

“I… I don’t know… I’m not gay, man…”

“Shhh… everything will be right…” The giant comforted, slowly pulling the footballers’ pants down.

“I’m… I’m not so sure anymore, man…” Braxton whined, squirming as the trousers exposed his hard-trained gluteus.

“You’ll be fine… my big… gay… beast.” Matt grinned, slipping its throbbing fourteen incher into the crack of the muscle buns.

The queasy feeling procured to him forced back a new memory.

Back in senior year, after another defeat, Braxton was showering when a teammate had grabbed onto his hips and rubbed his crotch against his butt. The dick was not hard, but the player had managed to give a few humps and speak some dirty words while doing so, impersonating the then expelled Richard. The members all laughed at the mocking display of the long-gone fag — except Braxton.

“Fuck off, Zack!” He replied, pushing the prankster away.

“Dude, you’re tensed! Gotta chill out, Brax.”

“We’ve lost again! I’m in no mood to relax, bro!”

“We’ll just do better next time, Brax. No need to go all losers on this!”

“Gotta say I miss having Rich on the team, guys.” A mate added, seconded by another.

“Dude, the guy was a total fag!” Braxton outraged. “We can’t let these freaks on our team!”

“You only say that cause you didn’t get as much field play with him on the team, bro.” One of the crewmembers teased.

“Were you jealous of big Rich, Brax?”

The teammates hooted and whistled in mockery at the red Running Back.

“Jealous, my ass! I’d rather go to hell than be a fucking fairy!” He snapped before leaving the showers frustrated.

How ironic, in consideration to the deal with the devil. The erection pressing against his backdoor brought Braxton back to reality. He clenched his ass, trying to block the intrusion.

“First time?” Matt asked with a glint of playfulness.

“Yes… I already told you.”

“No, you’ve told me it was the first time in this position. You’ve never told me if you’ve ever shoved something in there.”

“No! Never!”

“Have you ever wanted to try?”

“No, that’d be fuckin’ gay!”

“Not much gayer than just enjoying the company of a man, right?”

“It’s not the same thing at all!”

“Are you sure? Have you never felt this way from a man’s touch?”

Braxton thought back to his graduation party. That night, he had brought his ex Caroline — he was one of the few players to actually have a lover and not just some tagalong at their table. The evening had started pretty well until he noticed him once more. Even if he were not a member of their school or team anymore, that had been the last time he saw Richard.

The guy had decided to come back and check on his old team and friends, accompanying a girl. Maggie was definitely not a love interest, but just another single person who wanted someone to go to prom with. Upon seeing Richard that time, Braxton realized with envy that he had seemingly grown some more, now having to duck slightly to walk through a door. Moreover, the suit he wore looked rather tight on him, as if he had it tailored before this late growth spurt.

Braxton had never hung out with Maggie — several classmates believed she was a lesbo, hence why she’d have brought the other homosexual as her date. Their table was, against all odds, right next to Braxton’s. At first, the footballer ignored the fag a few feet away, but when his babe went to chat with her girl circle, Richard came and sat on her seat, catching up with his old teammates. Their laughs and anecdotes with the person he despised the most, Braxton left the boys and headed out.

The air of the night was warm, with a slight cool breeze to appease the heat. On the sidewalk, Braxton watched the passers-by. The wind did nothing to soothe him. He glanced at his phone, wondering if his girlfriend or anyone had texted him, but no one seemed to look for him. He scrolled Facebook when a voice took him out of his bubble.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Braxton jumped and turned, noticing Richard standing next to him, smoking a cigarette — that was new. The man had thickened up as well, especially around the middle. That was probably a consequence from having his leg broken a year and a half ago, which made Braxton feel bad for… and still envy him somehow. The size fit him well. He even kept that charismatic smile and bright grey eyes. He had grown some stubble and he had let his hair fill out, giving him a face akin to Jason Momoa.

“Want a smoke?” Richard asked, showing him the pack.

“No… thanks.” Braxton grumbled, before returning on his phone.

A moment of silence lingered. The shorter man fumbled on the app before moving to snapchat. The giant never left his side. Braxton eyed him without a word, watching him puff his cigarette away.

“I forgive you.” Richard said, tapping the ash from the joint, looking down.

“Fuck off.”

“You know, Brax, I hated you too.” The man confided.

“I still don’t like you.”

“That’s still an improvement from hating me.”

“Is that why you’re here tonight, Rich? To get on my back?” Braxton railed.

There was no response. Pissed, Braxton shoved his phone in his pocket and turned to head inside when Richard put a hand on his shoulder. In normal times, the Running Back would have pushed the grip away, but he just stayed and glared at the giant. The massive mitt flushed him with a heat he’s not once felt before. On the field or with his pals, they were used to rough each other up like this. However, the strong hand of Richard on his shoulder, firm, had a passionate twinge to it.

“If you ever want to talk about… anything, Brax… you still have my number, right?”

Of course he still had — in the blocked contacts list. Braxton glared at him. Something on the giant’s face beamed with sympathy, almost pity. The shorter lad felt his heart sink at the realization that Richard was sincere and not just the asshole he wanted him to be. Braxton broke their gaze and was freed the grasp. The liberation left him cold, as if his black soul consumed him without the man’s warm contact. Richard puffed, his cigarette done.

“Call me or text me whenever you want. Would be fun to catch up again sometime.”

“I won’t. Just giving you a heads up.” Braxton demurred, heading back inside.

Braxton felt himself splitting in two. The monster cock had impaled him. He yelled in horrified pain. He was doing it. He was getting fucked — fucked by a giant. The angel and the demon on his shoulders grabbed to his pads for dear life. His body was tearing apart, starting from his ass, to the top. He tried to tough through the agony, thinking it couldn’t worsen. And still, it did. The apple-sized head of the cock had penetrated him, but there was about a foot more of penis yet to enter him.

“AHH! STOP! IT HURTS!” Braxton cried, tears running down his face, muddling his werewolf makeup.

“You wished this, Brax. You want to be big. Think about how massive you’ll be. How much praise and admiration younger gays will have toward their role model — toward you.”

“It… it hurts so fucking bad, man!” He whined, bracing himself and lowering his head between his forearms, his body shivering on its own.

“You’re doing fine, big guy.”

Braxton whimpered as it felt like one of his legs dislocated to give place to the monster within. The other limb followed suit. If it had not been for Matt holding tightly onto his hips, he would have collapsed to the ground. A few more inches pushed inside him. The footballer clenched his eyes shut, his knees slipping further aside without lowering him.

“I… I don’t want it anymore! Take it out!” He screamed.

The monster shifted over him, forcing several more inches in. The hips pulled back some. Matt leaned in and whispered into his ears:

Too late.”

Then the top slammed his dick back in — not all the way. The thrusting motion started shaking Braxton, feeling his body ripping apart.

“NOOO! HELP!”

The beast burst into laughter, rigorously shoving its throbbing erection in and out of the overstretched ass. An ass that slowly but surely began sprouting hair all over.

“But you’ve told them to not look out for you!” Matt mocked.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone! I’m so fucking sorry!” The bulky man bawled, face digging against the cold grass, his makeup more akin to mud by now.

“How does it feel to be helpless? To not have any leg to stand on and run?”

“Please! I’m sorry! I just… I just…”

“You just what?” The monster growled, hitting deeper.

The sloshing of his insides being pummelled made Braxton nauseous. His mouth opened, his face crisped yet slack at the same time. He began drooling, unable to formulate words anymore. He was losing consciousness. The incredible pain was getting too much for him. Just before Braxton knocked out, Matt gripped his shoulders firmly, pulling his sloppy stance upright… and a loud snap alerted him.

Braxton tried to yell. Just as his legs earlier, he felt one shoulder popped out its hinge. However, instead of falling down like a useless limb, Matt’s hand still kept it at the same level. Mirroring its twin, the other cracked, resulting in making the arm floppy as well.

“I’m gonna die! He’s splitting me up! I’m gonna die!” The lad mumbled, barely comprehensible.

“The old Braxton is going to die… so you can be reborn!” Matt exclaimed as his pelvis finally hit Braxton’s rump for the first time.

The footballer’s eyes snapped opened, the brown of his irises slowly shifting to a dark red. Pulling him against his jacked torso, both on their knees, Matt fucked him with renewed vigour. A burning sensation blossomed within Braxton as his uniform grew uncomfortably tight. His back crackled as he thought his spine was about to break in two.

Sensing the distress of the bottom, Matt let go of his shoulders to wrap him into his arms. While Braxton feared he would crumble apart the moment the monster released his grip, he realized this was not the case. Perplexed, he noticed his limbs were still attached to him. He could maneuver them albeit sluggishly. Furthermore, the burning he previously felt from his back and spine shifted — the suffering didn’t cease but the awareness of his body changing made the aching bearable.

“I’m… growing?” He pondered, excitement slowly replacing the dread.

“No pain, no gain, right?” Matt teased him.

“Fuck… fuck yeah!” Braxton growled with a rough outburst.

The footballer barked in laughter at the realization. His soft manhood throbbed to full mast in a few seconds. The feeling was keeping on coming and coming. The wider shoulders were pulling so hard against the uniform that the seams started to pop. The massive pectorals protruded up front with each breath intake. The ribcage followed suit and, like his whole skeleton, increased in size. The acknowledgment of his body packing on mass was alluring, addicting.

“You are going to protect the gays, right, Brax? Be a proper role model for them?”

“Yes! I will!” He growled blissfully, his eyes becoming redder by the second. “Just… make… me… BIGGER!”

Matt pushed the insatiable bottom back on all fours. The footballer had grown a foot taller, almost caught up with Matt’s size. And yet, the curse upon him fed on his compliance to change him further. The monstrous cock jackhammering his bowels did not hurt as much as before. Snarling with lust, Braxton hips started gyrating on their own, his throbbing erection trying to reel out — but also going in rhythm with the powertop behind him.

The jersey across his torso didn’t reach Brax’s midriff anymore. It began to tear on the front as well, looking more akin to a sports bra by the second. The footballer’s face widened with his frame, his mouth drooling as much as his dick. The more intensely his eyes glowed, the more his teeth changed into fangs. Simultaneously, his fat sausage-like fingers on the ground curled into the earth, lengthening and developing claws. His feet, bulging into his increasingly tight shoes, grew their own sets of deadly talons, which pierced the fabric. The breakthrough was all it took for the surging dawgs to free themselves.

Braxton relished his changes, egging them on. He wanted to be the biggest of those beasts. The biggest motherfucker to have ever roamed the Earth — a Paul Bunyan bear of a man. Matt had to keep adjusting himself to pound back at the growing giant. Whereas Braxton had been short to fuck at first, he was now exceeding his own size, his furry ass slowly rising taller.

Then, bliss. Braxton’s eyesight blurred and he saw the world from a new perspective. The once painful drilling of his titanic ass had reached greater heights he ever thought possible. Matt’s monster dong now kept hitting an unknown spot that filled his mind and body with ending satisfaction, so much that his growth came to a halt with it. His own erection started leaking precum like a faucet, coating the grass underneath him. If that’s what being gay was about… he could get used to that! Unconsciously, his ass pushed harder, his sphincter milking the massive boner within. 

The sudden paced squeezing around his cock made Matt gasp with surprise. He wouldn’t keep going for much longer before shooting up his changed bro’s hole. The footballer’s penis throbbed mightily, growing closer to the incoming ejaculation with each thrust, swelling a fraction of an inch bigger every time. Even his sack plumped, spreading out as cum churned irrationally fast within.

Without warning but a roar, Matt unloaded inside his friend’s ass. The pressure and intensity of the orgasm stuffing Braxton had him howling to the moon as his massive prick shot semen like a firehose. The flooding of Matt’s seed within him pushed the footballer’s body to greater heights, filling his stretched frame with insane amounts of dirty bulk. A layer of fat mingled with his overblown muscles, providing him an even more intimidating stature.

Braxton growled and punched the ground a few times as his bone density thickened. His middle paunch throbbed and swelled, giving him with way more padding than he would have ever needed to play Running Back, more befitting for a linebacker instead. As the orgasm finally ebbed down, Matt fell on top of the gigantic bear’s back. The Latino rested on the soft carpet of hair Braxton had grown all over — except, ironically, on his still shaved head.

The brute collapsed on the grass himself, before rolling to the side and pulling away from Matt’s shrinking monster cock. Despite being notably taller than the athletic Latino, Braxton’s penis did not match his, lengthwise, but beat him in girth. Additionally, while Matt’s own dick diminished, Braxton’s manhood kept most of its foot-long size, a shower rather than a grower. Matt cuddled up to him, wrapping an arm around the massive ballgut. The gymnast looked ironically small next to the almost nine-foot-tall behemoth of a bear.

“Avenge the gays.” Braxton grinned, panting, more than satisfied with his decision. “Convert the homophobes — until there are none.”

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Synopsis: Ten young, homophobic adults gather for Halloween. Four of them are missing. Sometimes, the wrath of venomous words stings way harder than the sharpest weapon there is.

~ One of Us ~
Chapter 5 — Stung

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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 1:45 AM ~
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Dimitri held his breath, hiding behind the counter of the bar. The initial plan of locking Asher in the basement had seemed like a good idea until he realized that the window had been broken, only adding to the multiple shards on the ground. The opening proved too small for a beast such as Asher to go through, but it still looked suspicious. It meant anybody flexible enough could have gotten into the room. Dimitri lent an ear as the sounds of footsteps thudded away.

“Dimi, bro! Where are you? Why are you hiding from me?” The voice taunted with a nagging tone.

As much as he wanted to deny this beast being his friend, he couldn’t help but know better — the similarities were still present. The hue of the red hair, the stance and playfulness, even the intonation screamed Asher despite the considerably augmented physique. 

“Why did you turn on me, bro?” Dimitri mumbled to himself without realizing.

The noise stopped and the young man acknowledged his mistake. He shifted around and tried to locate the fiend. Turning on his flashlight would give away his position, so he decided against it. The thumps grew closer. Dimitri gulped then held his breath. There was no doubt — Asher had entered the bar. The sound of glass cracking under the massive beast’s feet confirmed it.

The steps slowed to a stop. The only sound the hidden man could hear now was the slick rubs of the monster on its shaft, certainly jerking off. The scent of musky sex elevated into the room. It brought a grimace on the host’s face, the reeking smell clouding his head more and more. Unable to withstand the obviously masturbating giant, Dimitri started gagging. Suddenly, nails slowly tapped the top of the counter, each noise running a new shiver down his spine. He dreaded moving, but upon raising his gaze, the lad realized with horror the glowing pair of red eyes shining in the dark. 

“Hey there.” Asher grinned, fangs dimly discernible.


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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 1:45 AM ~
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The masturbating creature before Sebastian closed its eyes and basking in the pleasure, hitting its head on the wall, accelerating the pace.

“Fuck, it feels good, man.” Wes groaned, smirking at his childhood friend.

Like a hose, precum oozed out from the oversized meat. Most of it dripped on the tiled ceramic floor, but some spurted toward the lad on the other side of the island, coating the surface of the counter. Whiffs of musk filled Sebastian’s nostrils, the previously chilly guy feeling warmer by the second.

“Wes… please, listen to me, man…” Sebastian begged. “We have to work together on this. Who’s the imposter and what does he want?”

“Is there even an imposter among us?” Wes grinned and contorted slightly, a wave of satisfaction making him spurt a fat load of pre all over the fruit bowl. “Just… come and join us, man. Let’s make this worthwhile! Become one of us!”

Wesley stepped toward him, bending somewhat to not hit his head on the ceiling. Sebastian grabbed a knife from the butcher block, trying to threaten the giant who barked a laugh. He let go of his spewing erection and leaned on the island, his massive clawed hands grasping on the edge of the granite countertop. The devilish smirk never faltered — Wesley lowered himself until its outrageous dong laid on the surface, onto which he started thrusting. Pre-ejaculate fluids coated the stone, flooding it like a breaking dam in the wild.

“Holding a knife doesn’t suit you, man.” The beast teased, its two glowing eyes piercing through Sebastian.

The trapped lad looked around for an escape, but there were none — except from the increasingly temptable window.

“Are you going to run… or just accept your fate?” After having more than covered the counter with his spunk, Wes groaned, suppressing an incoming orgasm, edging as much as he could. The throbbing monster swelled further, overfilled with blood and lust.

“Come on, Seb. Just… one… little… liiiick!” Wesley growled in bliss as his cannon fired at his friend.

Barely, Sebastian dodged the missiles. Strong musky sperm coated the backsplash and kitchen surfaces with such power that pots and tools moved and fell. The splatter across the cabinets made the doors and drawers to ricochet, creaking almost. And it just kept coming. Using the ejaculation distraction to his advantage, Sebastian ran for the opening. He would have had the chance to stab him, but he thought dashing away would be his best tactic.

“Grrr… where… are… you… goooiiing?” The massive beast groaned during its ungodly orgasm.

Sebastian had no time to look back. He sprinted for the main room, but no one was there anymore.

“Where did everyone go?” He mumbled to himself, sweat beading on his forehead.

A loud crash and series of splintering noises alerted the lumberjack. A simple glance over his shoulder sufficed to see Wesley was already after him, his mighty weapon still dripping in the dimmed dining room.

“Here!” A voice echoed from upstairs.

Sebastian didn’t realize who called him but ran for it. He climbed the stairs, lantern in a hand and knife in the other. As he reached the mezzanine, Wesley barged back into the hall and, suddenly, a detonation came from the upper balcony. The lumberjack stumbled, his mind simple unable to assimilate everything going at once. From the second floor, Sebastian discerned the glint of metal reflecting light before seeing Victor. He held a shotgun and had just aimed at Wesley downstairs.

“No! Stop!” He pleaded before the superhero directed once more.

“Don’t interfere! Get to safety!” Victor commanded with authority. “If no one’s got balls to shoot them down properly, I’ll do it!”

Sebastian reached the balcony and looked down at the monster, on its knees, crawling for the steps. It laughed hysterically. The glowing red aura intensified around Wesley with each new hit. Feeding off on the hate and fear, the creature’s frame stretched with sick wet popping sounds, its musculature and shape dehumanizing further. Sebastian watched his friend put up with every aim, corrupting him more into some sort of demonic entity.

First bullet, Wesley’s firm build started to pump and swell. His thorax barrelled out imposingly, the long slender limbs following suit with thick meaty flesh. On his knees and hands, he clambered toward the stairs as his body transformed.

Second bullet, his threatening maw begun to jut out forward by an inch or two, almost mimicking a bear’s. The claws and fangs sharpened and grew more prominent, scrapping the light wood. His ragged breath was forceful, delirious even.

Third bullet, Wes cried… in bliss. The ever-leaking dong below him fattened even more, unleashing torrent after torrent of semen down the ruined stairs. His body augmented once again, making the previous lanky stoner more abominable still. Horn protruded from his skull as his shoulders widened and pressed against the bannister until it cracked and broke, falling onto the first floor.

Victor was about to aim at it another time when Sebastian leaped at him.

“Stop it! You’re turning him into a monster!”

“Those freaking fags are the bane of our society! We have to get rid of them!” The superhero asserted.

The argument between the two was ended shortly when Wesley finally reached the second floor. His maw had grown out further, akin to a ferocious muzzle, almost. Sebastian befitted of the jock’s brief shock to retrieve the shotgun and throw it downstairs.

“You’re a fuckin’ FOOL!” Victor beamed at Sebastian, punching him square on the face.

The lumberjack, stunned, fell down. The bodybuilder got onto his legs, grabbed the lantern and knife from him, and left him alone for the starving drooling beast crawling for them.

 

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~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 2:00 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~

 

Dimitri startled and hit a shelf, knocking glasses and liquors off to the floor in the process. He yelled as a sharp stinging pain burned his arm. The cowboy backed off until he smacked the sink by the counter. In front of him stood this demonic version of Asher, his hypnotic fiery eyes looking downwards on him like a predator who’s cornered its prey.

“Hey, you alright, bro?” Asher asked, smug. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Why, Asher?” Dimitri blurted out. “Why?”

“It’s payback, Dimi. We gotta pay for our deeds.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, man!” He snapped. “I regret what I did to those guys in school, at the gym or anywhere! I will change! Please, believe me! Asher! Bro! I know you’re still in there! I care for you and you care for me! We’ve always had each other’s back!”

The beast in front of him stretched back and let go of its throbbing dong. Against anything Dimitri thought would happen, he grew surprised to see Asher open his arms wide, just as he did before when they got to give each other a bro hug. The cowboy’s stomach sank at the display, wondering if Asher was still in there indeed.

“Come on, bro.” Asher enticed with the same playful energy. “No tricks. Just don’t make it too gay for your likings.”

Everything seemed to slow down for a minute. Dimitri fell for his friend… almost. He shook his head to clear his mind. Forgetting about the pain in his arm, he jumped over the counter and ran from the bar. Asher dashed after him, but the cowboy didn’t buy it. He crossed the theatre by stepping between the seats, hoping it would prove harder to do for the behemoth.

“Where are you going?” Asher shouted after him. “Dimi!”

Passed the cinema, Dimitri entered their home gym. The weight racks and the bench looked off, as if someone had moved them around, but that was the least of his concerns in the moment. He reached for the exit to his right and sneaked into the atelier. Asher barged through both rooms to catch up with his friend, only to find him on the verge of taking the backdoor.

“Dimi!” The red-haired giant cried.

Dimitri stepped outside and shut the trapdoor behind him, pulling the blocking lever over to prevent the thing from rushing out. He had never understood why his father would not put a new door instead of this one — it dated from the times when the atelier didn’t connect with the rest of the basement. However, the young man was quite happy that it would, for a while, contain the monster in the workroom.

“Let me out, Dimi!” Asher pleaded. “I just want to talk to you!”

“I’m doing this for your good, Ash! Just… stay there until I find a way to cure you back!”

“You can’t, bro! You can’t ever go back! If I have to be gay for the rest of my days, I want to be gay with you, Dimi! There’s no man that I love more than you, bro!”

The cowboy’s heart ached at this declaration, so much that Dimitri felt sorry for him.

“I… I love you too, Ash, but not in a gay way, man! That’s too fucking weird, bro! Just… stay put, man! I’ll cure you from this fag shit! I promise!”

The complaints of the beast were thoroughly heard by the lad as he hurried away from the trapdoor, fearing it would break if he remained close for too long. Dimitri didn’t run far until he met up with Theodore, coming back from the shed with a livid face under the moonlight glow.

“Theo! What are you doing out here?”

The small wizard, short of breath, looked around with frenzy. Part of his anxiety dropped upon seeing the host.

“Dimi? Thank God, it’s you!” He sighed in relief. “I think I’m about to go mad!”

“What? What’s happening? Where’s the others?”

“Let’s… let’s just head back inside! We can’t stay here!”

The fear of an imminent threat was more than enough for Dimitri to lead the way in the mansion. They climbed the deck and entered the patio backdoor. With both of their flashlights on, they accessed a straight corridor that brought back to the hall. Theodore went for the second door to their right — the bathroom. Inside, they found Jennifer patching a bandage around the wounded brother’s foot.

“Thank God you’re safe, Jen!” His boyfriend reached for her and wrapped her into his arms. “Where’s Seb?”

“I… I thought you went to look for him!”

“What? Oh no! I completely forgot about him!”

“What were you doing then? Where’s Braxton?”

“I… I… Braxton is gone!”

“What?!” The other three in the room exclaimed in disbelief.

“Fuck! We’ve gotta look for Seb, guys! I’ll tell you later!” The nerd rushed them.

“I can barely walk, guys!” Larry gestured at his leg.

“You guys check for him.” Dimitri commanded. “I… I have to talk with my brother.”

The couple exchanged a glance. Jenny was the first one to speak.

“Of course, guys. Take the time you need. We’ll be right back. Come on, Theo!”

The lovebirds exited the room on a rapid footing, leaving the siblings alone with the door closed. An awkward silence filled the place for a moment until Dimitri inhaled deeply and headed for the sink. Putting the flashlight on the counter, he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water against his face. He rinsed the long scratch he’s made to his arm earlier, relieved that it wasn’t bleeding much or too bad.

“What is it, Dimitri?” Larry asked sternly, still seated on the toilet lid.

The elder sibling wiped his bruise with a cloth, looking back into his brother’s eyes through the mirror. They never left him, studying him, watching on every little movement Dimitri would do.

“I… I have something that I must confess to you, Lar.”


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 2:20 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


Sebastian’s focus came back when someone shook his shoulder vigorously. The half-naked man jerked in a foetal position, pleading to leave him alone.

“It’s me, Seb!” A voice resounded to his ears.

The shaking man slowly came to, waking from his psychedelic trance.

“Theo?” He mumbled, pulling his head out from his arms.

“And Jenny too.” The girl added as the once lumberjack slowly sat back up.

The man sighed in relief, wrapping the couple into his arms for comfort. Theo jabbed some mocking words, but the emotional lad only squeezed them harder, as if he had just woken up from a never-ending nightmare.

“Where… where’s Mathy, Theo?” Sebastian muttered, slowly freeing them from his embrace.

“Let’s… move first, okay?” Theodore suggested, glancing away. “This doesn’t look safe, here.”

The tall man pouted but nodded in submission, helped up by his two shorter friends. The floor was lathered with fluids, most probably semen from the monstrous demon from earlier. Upon brief inspection, they realized the cum-trail led toward the bedrooms. Curiously enough, in plain middle of the corridor, Sebastian saw a ladder reaching into the attic, which he had not noticed before Victor knocked him out. The bars glistened and dripped with viscous juices, indicating the beast had likely headed up — after the superhero, maybe? Sebastian deviated toward the ladder instead of following the couple.

“Where are you going, Seb?” Jenny whispered.

“Just gonna give Vic some karma.” He declared, pulling the ladder back up and closing the trap, locking it.


~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 2:15 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


“Are you the imposter?” Larry asked, stoical.

“What? No, look, Lar. I just… I just wanted to apologize if I’ve ever been an asshole to you.”

It was Larry’s turn to appear surprised.

“What? Why are you saying that now, bro?”

“There’s weird shit going on tonight and… and I just wanted you to know that I care and love you, little bro.”

“You’re so gay, Dimi.”

“Stop it, Lar! I’m serious!” Dimitri snarked back, his expression tensed.

The older sibling grabbed his face and growled mad. He was exhausted — the night was wearing off on him and the debauchery happening and ruining their place was filling him with dread. When he pulled away from his palms, the look on his brother didn’t seem as undemonstrative anymore. It appeared afflicted, just like when he was a scared little boy. The anger outburst Dimitri just exerted relieved part of the stress, but it made him feel awful for displaying such vulnerability in front of his teenage sibling.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Lar.”

“It’s okay, Dimi. This isn’t how we just thought the night would go.”

“Can you walk?” He brushed off, changing the subject.

“It hurts but if I could hold on a cane or a something, I guess I could.”

“Wait for me. I’ll be back.” Dimitri told him, heading out for the door right across the corridor.

Upon entering the laundry room, Dimitri looked for the crutch he’s had when he sprained his ankle a few years ago. Two minutes later, he was back in the lavatory where his sibling sat, thoughtful.

“Here, Lar. Can you walk with this?”

“I guess, yeah. Where do you want to take me?”

“In the drawing room. I want to show you something.”

The use of the crutch was awkward. Larry had to be mostly careful not to slip on the slick floor on the way there. As the brothers crossed the hall, they were called by Jennifer, who was cautiously walking down the stairs, followed by the other two friends.

“Where are you going, guys?”

“Drawing room.” Both said at the same time.

“That’s the one between the study and the living room, right?” Theo asked with a frown.

“Yeah. I want to show Lar something. Wanna come with us?”

“Sure. I believe we’re better off together than split apart, no?” The sole girl declared.

The five of them agreed on that point. They crossed the space where the party had initially started, making sure to avoid the large puddles of ejaculate from Wesley and Asher earlier. Dimitri led them through the door by the fireplace and the crew entered the parlour. Untouched by the series of events, the room looked tidy and clean still.

Cabinets and vases lines against the walls. A few couches and sofas encircled a small table onto which a fancy teapot and matching cups were prepared for the next gathering. Jenny admired the tapestry surrounding the area with the glow of her lantern while Dimitri offered the boys to sit on the luxury seats.

“Mom never lets anyone but her friends sit here.” Larry gasped at the sacrilege of the guests slumping down.

“Shut it, Lar.” The big brother chimed.

Digging through one of the antique cabinets, Dimitri pulled a bottle of Scotch whisky out. Larry understood — their parents would not accept them drink their old strong alcohols, let alone rest in here. He grabbed a few shots glasses as well and joined the guys around the table. He glanced at the still standing woman, appreciating the secluded room’s arts.

“Scotch, Jen?” Dimitri called as he poured the lads some shots.

“Are you sure that’s wise to drink?” She demurred. “We’ve got a bunch of horny monsters after us!”

“Drink.” Theo ordered, showing her a glass.

“Shove it up your ass, Theo!” She scowled at her commanding boyfriend. “At least one of us has to stay sober for the rest of the night!”

“If you saw what happened to Mathy, you’d drink as well.” He chirped back, downing the shot in one go.

“What… happened?” Sebastian prepared himself, inclined to know the truth.

“She became one of them.” The nerd blurted out. “One sick giant fucker with a dick bigger than any porn star out there.”

Silence filled the room. The lanky man started sobbing soundlessly, downing a shot before Dimitri poured him another one. Jennifer joined the crew on the soft sofas, complying to a drink as well. Her vitreous eyes began dropping tears after the first swig, her mascara running across her cheeks. She hit the shot glass on the marble table hard, giving a death glare at Theo, who didn’t even dare look at her. After three shots, Sebastian leaned over, forearms on his thighs, head down. The girl rubbed his back trying to comfort him.

“This is fucked up.” The heartbroken man mumbled. “I should have stayed with her.”

“I should have stayed with Asher.” Larry added as well.

“Nobody could have foreseen what was going to happen.” Theodore declared. “None of us believed it when the voice killed our phones.”

“We should have at least been more careful!” Jenny cried. “We should have stuck together!”

“How ironic…” Dimitri chuckled between sips, beginning to feel the effect of the strong alcohol. “Asher didn’t deserve any of that.”

“None of us deserved anything!” Seb exclaimed.

“Slow down, Dimi.” Larry warned him, failing the count of glasses Dimitri had. “Don’t knock your—…”

“Shut it, Lar!” His brother growled back with animosity. “You’re not the one who lost his best friend!”

“My girlfriend turned into a dude!” Sebastian blurted out, aggrieved and downing another shot. “I’ve lost both my girlfriend and my oldest friend!”

“This is not a competition, guys.” Larry spoke before the fury of the doleful lover unleashed unto him.

“Only your fucking games matter for you! You don’t give a damn for anyone! You’re not even our friend! You’re just tagging along as Dimi’s annoying little brother!”

“Calm down, Sebastian…” Jenny tried soothing the inebriated lad, but to no avail.

“Look… I’m sorry. Do as if I didn’t say anything.” Larry stiffened into his seat.

“He’s right, though!” Dimitri added. “You’re acting like a hermit! You’re locking yourself up in your room day and night and don’t bother with the real world! You don’t have relationships or friends or anything! You CAN’T possibly feel what we’re going through!”

The remark afflicted the younger sibling, taking another shot of whisky.

“You know how much Asher loved to bash on his little bro, right, Lar? Little Ken was such a fucking annoying little gay freak! I couldn’t stand him! He was always check us out!”

“Why… why are you telling me that?”

“Cause Asher was a frickin’ SAINT, bro!” The cowboy exclaimed with dramatization. “If you’d been gay like Ken, I would have had your head chopped off long ago!”

“You’re drunk, Dimi! Give me that!”

Larry reached for the whisky, yet his sibling grabbed it first. He didn’t bother pouring himself one more glass. He chugged some from the tap. He pulled away rapidly, the burning of the Scotch making him cough and sputter some across the room. Jenny and Larry stood up both, but the host gestured to leave him a minute, looking otherwhere. He leaned over the couch, taking a few ragged breaths as the scorching of his throat lingered on. After a moment, Dimitri turned back at them, sweaty and hiccuping.

“But Asher loved his lil bro.” He mumbled hoarsely, squirming into his seat. “He’d never admit it to anyone. Heck, he called his bro a fag or a queer when given the chance in public!”

Larry glared at his elder.

“But if ONE ever put a single finger on Ken, Asher would give the guy the beating of his life!” Dimitri added with a lousy smirk.

“The big brother complex.” Jennifer deduced.

“Yeah.” The cowboy nodded, looking at the lantern on the table, slowly calming down. “Asher just never thought Ken would try to take his own life for that. Talk about irony, huh? One thing led to another and the drugs his doc prescribed him made him fat and crazy.”

“That’s quite the tale… but didn’t he try to make up for it?” Theo asked.

“The things got out of hand when Ash moved in college, man. He never got the chance to apologize to him. In person, at least.” Dimitri explained, sorrowful. “I know I can be impulsive and shit, but I’ve never wanted to really hurt you, bro.”

Dimitri took another swing of the alcohol, coughing.

“Or not too hard at least — you can still be an annoying little shit, sometimes. I just… I don’t want to make the same mistake Asher did and not tell you until it’s too late. I just can’t have that on my conscience.”

It was Larry’s turn to have vitreous eyes. The younger sibling sat speechless, looking down as he processed the declaration of his elder. Dimitri offered him the whisky bottle, which he gladly accepted. Larry took a few spaced chugs, disregarding the burning off his throat, before putting the now-empty glass on the table. The older brother went for a fraternal pat on his back, but Larry jerked away. Grabbing on the crutch, the wounded guy stood back up.

“Where are you going, Lar?” Dimitri called.

“I… need to be alone. Just let me be, please.”

“We shouldn’t separate!” Jenny exclaimed, but Larry was already leaving.

Soon, the drawing room was back to silence. The host threw his cowboy hat and leaned down, ashamed by venomousness of his words against his brother. If this night were about seeking redemption, he hoped this declaration would at least remove some of the karma he’s accumulated over the years.

 

~    ~    ~    ~    ~
~ Sunday, November 1st, 2020 — 2:45 AM ~
~    ~    ~    ~    ~


Larry glanced with a heartache at what their home had become — a place screaming depravation in every room. The countless puddles of bodily fluids, the broken-down doors and furniture constantly reminded how bad the events had turned out since the blackout. He had just wanted to spend a quiet night, playing games with his online friends — or so-called friends. He thought back to the way his brother and Sebastian had yelled at him. They weren’t wrong. These people from the internet were just virtual presences, not anything as close or as real as any of his elder’s buddies here tonight.

Moving into the hall, he acknowledged the dismantled handrail leading to the upper balcony. Large scratches disfigured the now cracked ceramic tiles, some even popped out from their sockets. Several pumpkins and broken furniture littered the ruined floor. Upon crossing the demolished foyer, Larry sniffled noticing the soggy wooden staircase, gashed with claw marks befitting a bear flock.

Making sure to not accidentally put the crutch in a puddle of slick semen, Larry unavoidably stepped into the now cool ooze with his bare feet. A scowl traversed his face. He walked away and scrubbed his limbs on the clean ground, shaking his head in annoyance. He crossed the dining room, not that much in a bad shape. Part of the floor was also covered in the reeking spunk, but the furniture was intact, except for a few chairs that had fallen down or been shoved out of the way.

Without thought, Larry went to put the seats around the long table. Once everything was into place, the gamer pulled one and sat by the supernatural fire. He couldn’t help but plunge back into his elder’s bashing, ironically followed by a lame-ass apology. Alcohol tended to bring the worst out of people, showing their true colours and emotions without a filter. It reminded him of how arrogant he could become when doing video games. Sure, he had blasted players online, calling them slurs and whatnot, but that was under the stress. Was it the root of homophobia in general — the stress?

He thought back to Asher and his clinically depressed sibling. Larry had always depicted Asher as a bad big brother, much like his own, but Dimitri’s declaration kept running through his mind. His elder was right — it wasn’t fair. Nothing tonight treated them fairly. Some were ashamed for their actions and would have wished for a way of redemption. The puerile behaviours from their past didn’t denote them as thoroughly horrible individuals, yet their deeds also marked the victims for their lives. For the sake of the sufferers, this couldn’t go unpunished, right?

Larry sobbed silently. He felt sorry for the guys he harassed online. The homophobic acts of his brother and best friend had conditioned him to unleash this unnecessary anger on the people he played with, growing to believe this was the right thing to do. He had been locked out of servers and forums for his bashing, but he persevered anyway. Why had his elder never told him about Asher’s secret? About his own secret?

The gamer had assumed Dimitri hated him from the bottom of his heart. That was also part of why he had started to train at home — he wanted to show his family he could take care of himself and be someone imbuing some respect. And then, covid arrived. He wasn’t one to have many friends in the real world, so the pandemic clustering them inside only contributed negatively to his hermit lifestyle.

Working out and gaming — that’s what his existence revolved around. What good pumping out would even bring him in the end if he had no one to demonstrate his body to? Their mother was out of town most of the time, attending congresses and federal court. Their dad, as chief of police, toiled for several double shifts, mostly at night — without taking into account when he joined his wife in some cases. That left him only the mean big brother to show off to, whom never really indicated pride or appreciation in him.

Larry sank into the chair, the venomous words of the guys making him feel only more of a loser, someone without a worth. He heard a gurgling sound. He glanced at the grandfather clock, nearing 3 AM. He was getting hungry. Moreover, sitting by the fire was making him hot. The lad stood up, failing to realize that his wounded foot didn’t sting as bad anymore — it more felt like a stretched muscle rather than a cut.

The kitchen was barely lit by the moonlight, but Larry could make his way to the fridge. Once more, he stepped into musk slime, groaning as he did. The bandage around his foot was getting damp once again with the fluids. As much as the stickiness disgusted him, he kept going to the refrigerator, the hunger taking the better of him.

Inside it, he discerned the pale pizza box from leftovers he’s had with Dimitri before the party arrived. He brought the carton on the counter, not realizing he’s put it atop yet another puddle of semen. The mournful teenager sat on a stool, starting to eat in the darkness, looking past the large windows that soothed him with some moonlight. He thought back to Asher’s brother, how the guy coped with his own elder’s mockeries. If Larry himself had been gay, he would have probably gone through severe depression as well.

The heat he felt by the fireplace had dropped, except to his right leg. The teenager blamed it on the tight bandage around his foot — Jen could have at least made it looser. He wasn’t a Bigfoot like his sibling, but size 12s were no small dawgs.

Done with a slice, the afflicted young man took himself another one. He had been meticulous with his nutrition since he’s started working out, but tonight he didn’t care anymore — he was eating his emotions. He remembered, when they were children, how Dimitri kept nagging and playing pranks on him. Their dad would let them be, believing that would force him to build character against his elder. It did, yet Dimitri always retorted with a bigger and more embarrassing stunt. No matter how much he’d try to get back at Dimitri, Larry would never win.

That was how he started playing video games. Too busy fooling outside or showing off with Asher and the other neighbour kids, Dimitri had little interest for the virtual world. The only times Larry could ever feel like he was winning or being better at something was while gaming. Coupled with emotional overeating, the junior sibling had grown into a shy typical gamer — until the day their dad built the home gym in their basement. Of course, at first, only Dimitri could employ it. He was the bigger and more important brother, after all. But every once in a while, when the wolf was gone, Larry would sneak into the gym and get used to the equipment. And when Dimitri would be on the machines, he’s looked at videos on how to improve his workouts.

Larry shifted on the stool, his right foot somehow stuck around the footrest. The heat had not dissipated still. After pulling his limb upfront, he frowned upon noticing it didn’t sit as comfortably as his left one on the lower bar. The teen swallowed the last bit of the second slice and then slipped the seat back. His foot was swollen, red from the too tight bandage wrapping it.

“Wha—… what the hell?!” He gasped.

The shocked lad yanked his crimson member onto his leg, trying to pry it out of the gauze. To his horror, not only did it look engorged, but the bulging had seemingly spread to his calve, reaching as high as mid-thigh. Finally, pulling the damp cloth away, the teenager alarmingly realized that the wound had scarred. A coating of hair akin to Hobbits’ covered the now massive foot, the nails already turning dark and pointy.

“No… no, no, no! No! NO!” Larry cried in fear, the aching throbbing felt like a million ants crawled onto his skin.

The lad tried to stand up, but lost balance as soon as he jumped onto his feet. His legs were not the same length anymore. On all fours, Larry clambered on the ground, scowling as he dipped his arm into yet another puddle of cum.

“Dimitri!” He yelled for help. “Someone! Help!”

He couldn’t give in. He wouldn’t. And yet, he could feel his right leg becoming limp, a chore as he tried to get away from the kitchen. The knee of his oversized limb seemed to drag with every inch he made forward, almost at level with his left ankle. And just as he was about to make it into the dining room, a looming shadow blocked the light from the fireplace and prevented him from escaping. A monstrous demon akin to a werewolf with horns, rising far taller than the doorframe, stood before him.

“Cat got your tongue, Lar?” The creature grinned, its drooling penis dripping onto the petrified teen.

The beast grabbed its cock and pulled the thick foreskin that covered its glans, which dribbled more sticky pre-ejaculate. Larry tried moving away, but the weight of the mighty leg made the task all the more difficult. Pulsing veins throbbed like roots over his inflating limb, which was becoming hairier by the second. The thigh itself was growing to match his waist’s circumference, corded with dense muscles that stretched his undergarments beyond what they were ever destined to contain. The bearlike mitts of the demon grabbed the hooded man at the pits.

“No! Get away from me! Dimi—…!”

Larry was silenced as the outrageously fat cock head was shoved into his mouth. The beast let out an inhuman bark, similar to a gnarly laugh. Not much of the appendage could fit into the teenager’s jaw. Tears ran down his cheeks stubble, which began to thicken and spread already. Popping seems echoed from around his tree trunk-like thigh, about to surpass the size of his waist until his upper body started catching up with the growth.

The thoughts of the unfairness of his life flowed by his closed eyes. He’s ever just wanted to prove himself as a capable individual and yet he was losing to these ungodly monsters. Was it because of his wound? Did the contact with the fluids somehow infected? Did… Jennifer somehow tricked him when she treated his injury?

His jaw snapped. He cried wordlessly, gagged with the gigantic penis. His face broadened and his chin protruded forth. It surrendered more of its humanity as it slowly but surely stretched forward, taking in more of the demonic shaft before the reddening eyes. More viscous spunk flowed down his mouth, giving Larry instinctive retch — the taste was horrid. And yet, there was nothing more he could do. He was doomed. He had lost.

The black robes were suffocating him, becoming as tight as a corset around his expanding torso. Held up by the creature’s paws, Larry used his own to tear his once ample clothes — his hands were already growing claws. A barrel-sized chest surged out. A mat of brown bristles blossomed from its centre and spread across the pectoral slabs protruding like plate armour.

The burning heat travelling across his body eventually propagated down the unchanged leg, the thigh spasming and pumping with the veins standing out. Hair coated the ballooning muscles as the limb lengthened and gained bone density. The knee popped loudly as it tried fitting in between the massive upper leg and the undersized calve. The awkward instant was short-lived as the lower part apprehended its own expansion. Last but not least, the left ankle snapped sickly as well, the foot entering its phase of growth to catch up with its gargantuan twin.

Larry groaned as his spine underwent changes. His clawed feet already pressed against the kitchen island, but the stretching of his torso made the room too minimal for the incoming surge of height, making him almost a foot taller. The muscles spasmed and contorted. The monstrous footing of the beast broke the wood panels of the decorative counter, bursting through and messing things up in the lower cupboards.

Still held up by the brute, Larry’s hands benefitted of their degree of freedom to wrap around the foot-long fuckstick between his legs. Each dual stroke of it made the modest-sized arms to bloat further, surpassing 20 inches in no time and swelling beyond.

Larry didn’t care about losing anymore. The strength and the libido his new body possessed clouded his previous judgments and solely filled him with one desire — to make every little one of them to pay. The demonic creature burst with a terrifying cry, one that anyone in the mansion would hear. An earthshaking orgasm hit them both. Larry struggled to get off the bazooka flooding his insides. His hard-earned abs were starting to bloat outward as sheer bulk added onto his frame. The teen managed to break out from the monster’s grip and fall to the floor on his slightly distended middle.

The lying man coughed and sputtered some of the excess fluids, the taste still making him feel somewhat nauseous after the transformation. The beast kept pouring semen out, showering the newly changed lad with its hypermasculine essence. Larry’s hips thrust the ground with choppy jerks, his own thirteen-incher flooding the destroyed kitchen tiles. Covered head to toe in spunk, the younger sibling maniacally burst in laughter. The guys had played him all along for years, but no matter what pitiful excuse or apology they would confer him now, he’d make sure that they would all pay — especially his brother.

“Avenge the gays.” Larry growled, using his furry arm to wipe the cum from his fearful fang-filled maw. “Convert the homophobes — until there are none.”

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