The Estate (Horror Story)

[musclegin30]

This is not a feel-good story. There is violence, gore, and death. In honor of Halloween, I decided to write a what is basically a muscle slasher story. So, if you like muscle snuff, this is for you. The first three chapters will come today, so you can start it, since it is on the longer side. The rest will be posted on Halloween.

Synopsis: Four friends (Chris, Alex, Danilo, and Niles) are invited to what they hope will be a fun weekend at the family Estate of two of their college acquaintances (Evan and Rupert Glencross). But joy soon turns to horror when the friends discover why the muscular Glencross brothers really invited them. The friends are plunged into a race for their lives as they struggle to escape the estate. 

 

“Blood is life. Blood is power.”- Frederick Glencross, 1872

             It is said that if a house is old enough, one must assume someone has died in it. So, it stands to reason that the older the house, the more death it has seen. Glencross Manor is 200 years old, and if its blood-stained walls could talk, they would scream... 

Chapter 1

            “I bless the raaains down in Aaafricaaa!” Danilo belted out at the top of his lungs, singing along to the radio. He couldn’t hold a tune if you paid him. Alex told him as much as he turned the car off the main drag and onto a tree-lined side street.

            “You don’t like my singing?” Danilo asked, grinning toward Alex in the driver’s seat.

            “Just don’t think of trying out for The Voice,” Niles said from the backseat, briefly looking up from the game on his phone.

            “The wild dogs cry out in the niiiight!” Danilo sang.

            “Oh God. It’s so bad,” Alex said, through a laugh. “And your accent is not helping.”

            Danilo turned around and looked through the space between his seat and the side of the car. “What about you, Chris? Do you think my singing is all that bad, because I think I’m as good as Toto?”

            Chris stopped staring out the car window and said, “As good as Toto the dog, maybe.”

            “Ooooh, burn,” Niles said. “My man said you sound like a dog trying to sing.”

            “You all should hear my Sam Smith,” Danilo announced.

            “No!” The other’s said in unison, then burst into laughter.

            Chris turned back to the window and watched the trees whiz by. The sound of his friend’s conversation melted into background static as he entered a near trance-like state. Ever since he was little, he found it easy to space-out on long car rides, lost in the world of his thoughts.

            He thought it was strange for them to be invited to Glencross Estate. Evan Glencross and his fraternal twin, Rupert, were only casual acquaintances of the group. They were known through mutual friends and had hung out with them no more than twice all of last semester.

            The Glencross brothers were seniors, while Chris and his friends were Sophomores, and there was very little fraternizing between the years. The brothers were rich, from old money. They lived on an estate for crying out loud. Chris would be shocked if he and his three friends had $400 in all their bank accounts, combined.

            But the most glaring difference between the brothers and the friends was physical. Evan and Rupert Glencross were huge. They had the kind of comically big muscles that turned heads and made any man jealous. Both were football stars and very popular with the opposite sex. Chris and his friends were four, short, skinny guys who never touched a weight set they hadn’t been required to in PE class.

            “Why do you think they invited us, seriously?” Chris asked.

            “Man, you’re still on that?” Niles looked at him and sucked his teeth. “Who cares why? We’re going to be living like rich people for a weekend.”

            “He’s scared it’s a prank,” Alex said.

            “It could be,” said Chris.

            “Evan and Rupert are nice jocks,” Danilo said. “They will not prank us. Besides, they could have done that on campus.”

            “Yeah man. Just try to enjoy yourself, for a change.” Niles tapped him on the shoulder.

            “Hey guys, I think that’s it up ahead,” Alex said.

            “That place is huge and look at that wall around it,” Niles said with awe. “That thing would give Trump a hardon.”

            “Imagine being so rich you don’t have a fence; you have a fucking wall,” Alex said, shaking his head.

            Chris looked out the car’s back window. Then out the side windows. Then out the front window. He smiled. “That’s nothing. Imagine being so rich your driveway is a road.”

            “Huh?” Danilo said, looking confused.

            “I just noticed it,” Chris said. “There are no turn-offs on this road and no other houses. And look, it leads straight up to the wall. We’ve been on a private road for a while now.”

            “Oh shit!” Alex said with a laugh. “Why didn’t I make that connection back there. The road we turned on was called Glen Drive. Duh.”

            “Another thing I notice,” Chris said. “We’re completely isolated out here.”

            “Oh, there you go again with the paranoia,” Niles said. “If anyone should be nervous, it’s me. I’m the only black guy, and I’ve watched enough movies to know that if the rich white folks are into freaky shit, I’m the first to go.” He laughed. “And yet I’m as calm as can be.”

            Alex stopped the car in front of the gate, which Alex assumed was 12 feet tall. It was solid metal, painted black, standing in sharp contrast to the pale stone wall it connected to. Chris eyed a box attached to the wall with a beeping red light, various buttons, and what appeared to be a camera lens.

            “I guess that thing is the intercom,” Alex said, undoing his seatbelt. “I’m going to press-”

            Before he could finish his sentence, the tall black gates opened, as if pushed by an invisible giant.

            “Guess not,” Alex said, buckling his seat belt. He drove through the gates and let out a low “fuck me.”

            Chris’ jaw dropped.

            Danilo let out a “woah”

            Niles clapped his hands together and said,

           Chris had expected big, but Glencross Manor could only be described as palatial, something you would expect from European royalty, not in New England. It was a mountain of marble and brick assembled in the classical form, a testament to excess and wealth. His eyes were immediately drawn to the mammoth portico. Where you would expect to find roman style columns supporting it, instead there were two massive statues in the form of nude, muscular men with their arms stretched high. The men were more heavily muscled than the Farnese Hercules.

            “Interesting architectural choice,” Chris said, pointing.

             “And anatomically correct too.” Niles laughed.

              The driveway ended in a large circle right in front of the house. There was a red Toyota already there, which Alex parked behind. Chris immediately got out of the car and stared up at the statues: solid marble, stunning detail. He didn’t notice Evan and Rupert Glencross had opened the door and were standing at the entrance, until one of them spoke.

             “What’s up guys?” Rupert said, in a low base.

             Chris’ eyes immediately fell on the brothers. Both wore shorts, tanks, and sandals, there muscular frames on full display. They took up every inch of space in the doorway, looking like contest ready bodybuilders.

            “I’m good parking here?” Alex pointed to the car.

           “Sure thing,” Evan Glencross said, sauntering down the steps, his voice every bit as deep as his brother’s.

           The friends and the brothers greeted each other with handshakes and bro hugs. Chris couldn’t help but feel an erection growing in his pants, being so close to all that muscle. Muscle that was attached to two handsome faces. He could never get used to their size. When did these guys start working out? When they were three? They were both a little north of 6’ 3’’ and wide as barn doors. Big enough to make Chris and his friends, not one of whom was over 5’ 6’’, feel like children. When Rupert Glencross shook his hand, his fingers nearly disappeared in the mitten like paw, rough with callouses. And the hug! Like grabbing a sack of boulders covered in skin. He couldn’t help but wonder how many kinds of roids these two handsome freaks were taking.

             “Thanks again for the invite,” Alex said.

              The others voiced their agreement, and complimented the home.

            “No problem, guys,” Evan said. “We just hope you’ll enjoy yourselves.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and flashed a set of pearly whites.

            “We will,” Niles said. “You guys got a pool?”

             “Two, one indoor and one outdoor,” Rupert said as he and his brother led the friends inside. “But first, you need to meet our father.”

             “Is he as big as you guys?” Danilo asked, jokingly.

             Rupert paused and turned. With a slight grin plastered on his handsome alpha male face, mirrored by his brother, he said, “He’s bigger.”

 

Chapter 2

            They followed the hulking brothers across white shining tile, down an expansive hallway, framed in wooden arches.

            “I honestly expected a butler to greet us at the door,” Niles said.

            Evan turned his torso slightly and glanced back towards Niles. “All the staff are off for the entire weekend,” he said.

            “Well, there goes my plans of being waited on hand and foot,” Alex said, laughing.

            “Don’t worry,” Evan Glencross said, “You all will be taken care of.”

            Chris stared at him, as he spoke. The sentiment was nice: “you all will be taken care off.” But he didn’t like the way he said it. The tone was filled with a false warmth. It was ominous, more a warning than a comfort. Chris shook his head. That was just his paranoia filling his mind with nonsense. This would be a fun weekend and he would enjoy himself. He repeated that silently, like a mantra.

            “And here we are,” Rupert said after they had walked God knows how far. He gestured ceremoniously to a large sitting room. “Father, the other guests are here.”

            Other guests? Chris had assumed it was just his friend group who had been invited for the weekend, then he remembered the other car parked out front. They entered the sitting room and the elder Glencross rose from the wingback chair he had been sitting in. Rupert hadn’t been lying when he said their father was ‘bigger’. He was callosal. The largest, most physically impressive human he had ever seen. From the look of awe on his friends faces, he could tell they felt the same way.

            “Guys, this is our father, Lawrence,” Rupert said. “Father this is Chris, Danilo, Niles, and Alex.” He pointed to each of the friends in turn.

            Lawrence Glencross stepped toward them and shook their hands, nearly crushing them with his beartrap like grip. He was handsome for a man near fifty, with short brown hair, greying at the sides. He stood a full head taller than his sons and must have weighed at least 100 pounds more. His khaki chinos and navy tee looked painted on to his lean, hulking physique. Chris didn’t understand how the clothes didn’t burst to shreds at the slighted movement.

            “Pleasure to meet you boys,” Lawrence said in a deep voice.

            “You’re huge!” Niles exclaimed, unable to hold in his shock.

            Lawrence and his sons laughed.

           “I get that a lot,” Lawrence said, casually bouncing his pecs and flexing his arms.

            “Do you compete in bodybuilding,” Chris asked, his eyes rolling over the mountain of muscle in front of him, briefly pausing to take in the mammoth bulge in the crotch.

           “Oh, heavens no,” Lawrence waived his hands dismissively. “Glencross men are just big. Always have been.” He gestured to the wall behind him. Chris noticed it was covered with portraits of men in dress clothes. The oldest were paintings. The newest, photographs. “The men of the Glencross line,” Lawrence said, smiling with pride. Each and every one of them was huge.

             “Amazing,” Danilo said.

            “Great genetics,” said Niles.

            “And other things,” Lawrence said with a smile. Chris assumed he meant steroids at first, but they didn’t have steroids over a 100 years ago.

            “That accent.” Lawrence turned to Danilo. “Somewhere in Eastern Europe?”

            “Ukraine,” Danilo said.

            “Ah, very nice,” Lawrence said. “There are a lot of big men over there. But I see you weren’t blessed in that department. None of you were.”

            The four friends looked at each other, with confused faces. Lawrence’s face was serious when he spoke. The smile he had, had disappeared.

            “I guess not,” Alex said, finally, with an uneasy smile.

            “Make a muscle!” Lawrence commanded. “All of you!”

            The friends each raised an arm and flexed. Lawrence felt each muscle. His hand could wrap all the way around each arm with ease. “So tiny,” he mumbled. “Can any of you fight?” He raised a fist as big as a ham and bought it down with shocking speed, but stopping short. The four friends flinched. Chris thought he might piss his pants.

            Lawrence turned to his sons and grinned. “You boys didn’t want a challenge this year, I see. They’re as small as the other two.”

           “Does it matter?” Evan asked, clearly annoyed.

           The elder Glencross shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Though, I always found it more fun when they were a bit of a challenge. Oh well. It’s your birthday. You boys do it how you like.”

           Birthday? “Alex,” Chris whispered, “Did you know it was their birthday?”

           Alex shook his head. “No.”

          “I’m a little confused,” Niles said. “What’s going on?”

           Lawrence smiled. “There’s a game Glencross men can only play on their birthdays. You’ve been invited here to play it. Two other players are already here, taking refreshments out back.”

          “What kind of game?” Chris eyed him suspiciously.

         “You’ll see,” Lawrence said, “But first…” He raised a basket. “Put your cell phones in here. The game will test your intelligence so cell phones will allow you to cheat and we can’t have that.”

          “We’re starting the game now?” Alex asked.

          “The game started the moment you were invited,” Rupert said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the phones back, obviously,” He laughed.

          The friends apprehensively dropped their phones into the basket.

          “Good!” Lawrence said, setting the basket on a table beside him. “Now boys, show your guests to the back and let the game begin.”

 

Chapter 3

             They were led to a large deck, overlooking an expansive back yard. The yard would have been impressive on its own, but it was made more impressive by an expansive hedge row maze the seemed to stretch as far as Chris’ eyes could see, a green sea that must have taken decades to grow.

            Two other guys were seated at a table on the deck, sipping lemonade and eating from a tray of finger sandwiches. Chris thought he might have seen them around campus before, but didn’t know them.

            “This is Jeremy,” Evan pointed to an Asian guy on the left, “and this is Mike,” he pointed to a white guy on the right. Both were short and skinny like Chris and his friends. Just what kind of game were they going to play? Chris thought it odd that not a single one of the Glencross’ jock friends was present on their supposed birthday. He expected them to have countless tall, over-muscled buddies to fraternize with. Instead, they choose to hang out with 6 skinny dweebs?

            Evan introduced the four friend’s and the handshakes started.

            “Nice to meet you,” Jeremy said, extending his hand toward Chris. “I’ve seen you in the student Union. You’re in the Culinary Club, right.”

            “I thought I’ve seen you around,” Chris said. “Yeah, I’m in the culinary club.”

            “Cool.”

            “While you guys get more acquainted me and my bro are gonna go get ready,” Rupert said. “Help yourselves to the food and drinks.”

            “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Alex stepped over and took a finger sandwich. Niles and Danilo followed.

            The brothers stepped back into the house, grinning at each other like they were sharing a silent joke.

            “So, are you guys good friends with Even and Rupert?” Mike asked.

            “Not really,” Chris said. “More, acquaintances.”

            “Weird,” Mike replied, picking up a sandwich. “Neither are we. We just know them casually through a friend of a friend. I was honestly surprised to get an invite.”

            “Yeah,” Jeremy said, with a mouthful, “But who could pass-up a chance to spend a weekend in a place like this, for free.” He gestured to the estate.

            “Right,” Danilo nodded, stuffing his mouth.

            “Father’s a little weird, though,” Alex whispered, stifling a laugh.

            Everyone nodded their agreement.

            “Did he comment on your size, too?” Chris asked Jeremy.

            “Yeah, it was weird.” He frowned slightly. “Like, dude, I get it, you’re huge, but not all of us can be a giant.”

            “Oh shit,” Mike said, nearly choking. He glanced up and Chris followed his gaze, as did the others. Lawrence Glencross was standing in the window overlooking the deck, staring at them, expressionless. When he saw them looking, he closed the curtain and disappeared behind a panel of white.

            The group shared a look, then burst into laughter. All except Chris, who merely smiled nervously.

            “Hey guys!” A deep voice boomed behind them.

            The group turned away from the table of refreshments to find Evan and Rupert bounding out the door. Chris’ eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw what the twins were wearing: skimpy black posing trunks that struggled to contain their massive packages, and nothing else. Every inch of their huge, muscular bodies was exposed, each muscle group bouncing and flexing as they walked across the deck.

            “What. The. Fuck?” Alex said.

            Everyone’s mouth was agape.

            “Oh shit, the white people are into some freaky shit. I’m screwed.” Niles mumbled beneath his breath, just loud enough for the group to hear, but not the Twins.

            The Glencross brothers beamed, grinning like clowns, obviously enjoying the reaction their insanely developed physiques were getting from the skinny guys assembled before them. They bounced their bulbous pecs and hit a few poses. Chris could feel his cock stiffening again. He adjusted it discretely and noticed others in the group were doing the same. How could you not get hard when witnessing such a display of the perfect male form.

            The twins were enjoying themselves as well, sporting bulges that threatened to pop their skimpy posers right off.

           “We’re so big, bro,” Evan said.

           “Yeah.” Rupert grunted, flexing harder. “And we’re gonna get bigger.”

          “So big.” Evan slapped his brother’s delt.

          “Yeah! So fucking big!”

          Chris saw a wet spot forming in Rupert’s posers. Was he leaking pre-cum? Was he getting that turned on by his and his brother’s size? What the fuck was going on? And why were they invited?

         “This is weird,” Danilo whispered.

          “Agreed,” Chris said, his eyes fixed on the rippling mounds of muscle before him.

         The brothers were lost in a trance like state, of flexing and grunting, loudly expressing their desire for more size, and getting more turned on as they did it. They flexed so hard, they began to sweat in the late morning sun. One would slap the other and then vice versa. They were getting themselves worked up, pumped for something. And then it was over. The brothers faced the group, grinning and panting, skin red and glistening.

           “You ready to start the game?” Rupert looked over them.

            “What’s the game?” Mike asked.

             “And why are you dressed like that?” Alex gestured to their pumped-up bodies.

             “And most importantly, what did we just watch?” Niles said, shaking his head, a hardon visible in his pants.

            The brothers looked at each other and laughed. “The game is called ‘You vs Our Muscles,’” Evan said. “It used to be played in the house, a long time ago, but the maze was put in 50 years ago and it’s been played outside ever since. The maze starts here at the deck and exits all the way over there, by the woods. As you can see, there’s no way around the house from this point. The only place to go is through the maze. The object of the game is to make it through the maze without getting caught by me or my brother. We’re dressed like this because clothing would get way to constrictive-”

            “And we don’t want to get our clothes dirty,” Rupert chimed in.

            Evan nodded, “Yeah, that too. This game gets messy. What you just saw was us getting hyped up to win.” He made a fist and slapped it into his other hand. “Understand.”

            The group stared at each other, a little confused. It sounded simple enough, but it was still so strange.

            “it’s like a fancy game of tag,” Mike said. “What happens if you catch one of us?”

            “You versus our muscles, happens,” Even said. “Mike, you come here, and we’ll show you guys. The rest of you stand by the entrance to the maze and be ready to start.”

            Everyone did as commanded by the muscle-god brother. Chris stood dead center in the middle of the five by the maze entrance, staring up at the deck. Mike stood in front of the brothers, looking like a child compared to them. Their arms were as thick as his legs. Their pecs, as big as his head. His twig like body looked frail in comparison to the towering twins.

          “If this is a test of strength, I think you guys are going to win.” Mike laughed.

          “Just stand still and shut up,” Even said, grabbing hold of Mike’s left arm. Rupert took his right. The brothers then placed a hand on each side of Mikes head, with their thumbs locked under his chin. Their comically huge hands each covered a whole side of his skull.

          “High five, bro,” Evan said.

           “High five.” Rupert grinned.

            Chris watched as the brother’s arms tensed. Muscle striations appeared through the skin; veins popped out in high relief. Mike’s feet left the ground. Up, up, up. Two feet in the air. He kicked and flayed, as the skin on his face wrinkled, smooshing together.

           “Guys, this… hurts, aah,” Mike struggled to say through gritted teeth.

           “What are you doing!” Jeremy shouted.

            “Holy shit!” Danilo backed away.

            Niles and Alex stared on with equal parts confusion and revulsion.

            Mike’s little body shook, struggling to fight against the towers of muscle holding him, but his arms were locked. He could only kick air. He let out grunts of pain, followed by an agonizing scream as the brother’s press harder on his skull, their muscles rippling with power.

            “This isn’t cool!” Alex shouted.

            “You’ll kill him!” Jeremy darted up the stairs. Chris reached out, trying to grab him, fearing what would happen, but he was to slow. Jeremy made it to the top of the stairs but took a kick to the torso from Rupert’s massive foot. He flew back and landed in Alex and Chris’ arms. Jeremy panted, struggling to reclaim the air that had been knocked out of him. Then Chris heard it. The crunch. Mikes skull cracked. He watched blood poor from his friend’s eyes, nose, and mouth. Mike went silent, His face, now disfigured, and brain, squished in.

            “High five!” The brothers exclaimed in unison as Mikes eyes bulged from his head and his skull completely gave way, popping like a stepped-on grape. His skinny body went limp as the brothers were given a blood shower by Mike’s spurting arteries. Their hands were pressed together, up in the air, covered in bone, blood, brains, and Mike’s skin. They lowered their arms and looked down at the five skinny guys, cowering in fear and shock.

            Chris’ eyes grew wide as saucers. His jaw went slack. No fucking way, he thought as he watched the blood on the brother’s bodies disappear, absorbed into their skin. And the growth…They were growing! Evan and Rupert moaned in pleasure, their bodies shaking, as they swelled, muscles getting more developed and veinier.

             “Each time we kill, we grow,” Rupert said, as the now more massive brothers stepped slowly towards them.

            “But only on our birthdays.” Evan said. “That’s the secret of Glencross men.”

            “But, we like the thrill of the hunt,” Rupert said, with a sadistic smile, “So run! Run for your pathetic little lives. We’re giving you a head start.” He raised his arms and flexed; the muscles of his arms looked like it might burst through his skin. “All this muscle is coming for you.”

             The group scampered into the maze. Danilo fell to his knees and wretched, but Alex grabbed his arm, dragging him along, leaving a trail of throw-up in his wake.

           “We should fight them!” Jeremy shouted, and Chris pushed him forward.

           “Not without a plan,” Chris said.

            As he moved through the walls of green, Chris heard a faint deep voice call behind them. He couldn’t make out what had been said, or even which brother had said it, but it didn’t matter. His focus was ahead, toward the end of the maze, toward survival.

 

[spacevlad]

Awesome premise! And the tone of the writing totally feels like a campy slasher movie. Very excited to read the rest tomorrow!

[Ro20316]

Oh man. Poor guys. They dont have a chance agains them but as every Horror film we must gave a final girl/guy in the mix

[musclegin30]

Chapter 4

            Chris couldn’t tell you how long they ran, but by the time they stopped, they were all panting like dogs in July. His skinny legs felt weak a wet cardboard. They had come to an area of the maze that was open, about the size of half a tennis court. There were three possible paths branching of from it. 

            “Jesus Christ. What the Fuck!” Alex said between heavy breaths. He was hunched over, hands on his knees.

            Niles was squatting on the ground. He shook his head. “We shouldn’t have come here. Chris, for once your suspicions were right.”

            But Chris didn’t want to be right. He had wanted to have a fun, relaxing weekend. Now that seemed like an impossible dream.

            “We’re going to die,” Danilo said, tears streaming down his face.

            “Not if we get out of this maze,” Chris said, resting a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder.

            “Oh please!” Jeremy scoffed and threw up his twig-like arms. “Do you really think there’s any getting out of this maze? Do you think there’s a way to win this so-called game? We just watched them murder someone. They’re not going to let up walk away. We’re going to have to kill them, if we want to survive.”

            “You want to fight?” Niles looked at Jeremy, incredulous.

            “No.” Jeremy lowered his head. “But I don’t see what choice we have.”

            “You saw how huge they were,” Niles said “And they grew even bigger right in front of our fucking eyes. You think we have a chance against two psychopathic hulks with magic powers!”   

            “Jeremy might not be wrong,” Chris said, trying to convince himself as much as Niles. “They have to be flesh and blood, powers or not, and we outnumber them 5 to 2.”

            “More like 5 to 6,” Niles said, frowning. “One of them is equal to 3 of us.”

            “I’m not much of a fighter.” Alex made two little fists and stared at them. “We need weapons.”

            “Look around,” Jeremy said, arms outstretched. “We’re surrounded by branches. Let’s break some off and use them like spears.” He motioned stabbing at the air. “Go for their vital spots. Their eyes.”

            “Good thinking,” Chris said. He liked Jeremy’s courage. He just hoped he could back it up with action. 

            “If we can reach the fucking eyes,” Niles mumbled.

            Chris ran to him and got close. He whispered, “Help or shut up. We really don’t need the negativity. Look at Alex and Petro. They’re close to breaking.” Niles eyed his two friends and nodded.

            “If the five of us act as one,” Jeremy said, “We can do this.”

            “And be quick about it,” Chris said. “We shouldn’t be standing in one place to long.”

            The Group fanned out and began looking in the hedges for suitable branches to break off. Thick enough to be effective, but not so thick their weak arms couldn’t snap them.

            “We have nothing to sharpen them with,” Alex said. “And the wood is too green. It’s soft.”

            “Keep looking,” Jeremy said. “There has to be some dead branches, and those should snap sharp on their own.”

            Chris looked through his little section of hedge, moving his eyes up and down, left and right, until he found it. Bingo! A beautiful dead branch so hard and dry it looked petrified. It was two feet long and 1 inch thick. He snapped it off, satisfied by the sound it made. It broke, forming a sharp point at the end. Chris turned to show the others, raising it up proudly. Across the opening Danilo did the same, holding up his own pointy branch. Chris’ eye dropped down to Danilo’s feet. His proud smile melted into a look of fear and panic.

            “Danilo move!” Chris said it too late.

            Two forearms wrapped in a web of rope-like veins, and as thick as legs appeared from in the bushes. Two meaty hands gripped Danilo’s ankle and before he knew what happed, his feet were yanked back and his head came crashing to the grassy ground. Chris watched in horror as Danilo was pulled back with lightning speed, disappearing under the bushes. The branch he had held was all that remained.  

            “That should be impossible,” Alex said, panic in his voice. “These hedges are too thick to move through.”

            “The Glencross’ know the weak spots,” Chris said, eyes watering at the loss of his friend. What he wouldn’t give to hear his bad singing again, instead of the screams now coming from the other side of the hedge. “We have to move guys!”

            “We fight,” Jeremy said. “We know where they are.”

            “That gap is a choke point,” Chris said, pulling at Jeremy’s arm. “We lose the advantage of numbers if we can’t surround them or at least corner them!”

            “Which way?” Alex asked, looking at the three paths. “Maybe if we split up, it will give one of us a chance. They can’t follow us all-”

            Chris ignored Alex’s stupid suggestion. He dragged Jeremy into the middle path without uttering a word and hoped Alex and Niles would follow. Perhaps splitting up would work if their lives weren’t on the line, but they were, and there was safety in numbers.

 

***

 

            Danilo hit the ground hard. He wished he had been knocked unconscious so he wouldn’t be awake for the horror that awaited him. But he wasn’t so lucky. The fall had left him dazed, his mind foggy, but he was fully conscious to feel the branches rake across his skin and strong hands snap the bones in his ankles as he was dragged through the hedge.

            He emerged on the other side and immediately found himself hoisted into the air, dangling upside down in Evan Grencross’ arms. He knew he had no chance, and still he threw a wild punch that hit his attacker in the abs. It was like hitting a brick wall. The pain radiated from his fist and up his stick like arm.

            “Look what I caught bro,” Evan said, with a grin. He tossed Danilo to the ground like a heap of trash.

            “A feisty one, bro,” Rupert said. “I think he broke his hand on your abs, haahaaa.”

            Danilo whimpered, a crying mess. His shattered ankles, and aching hand left him unable to do anything but look up at the towering muscle monsters who glowered down at him. They were wicked and horny beasts that smelled the fear on their prey. Did they have hearts? Did they have any sympathy?

            “Why?” Danilo asked, his breath labored. The tears flowed like streams from his eyes and he could hardly get the words out as he choked on his fear. “Why are you…Why are you doing this to… us?”

            The brothers raised their arms and flexed, colossal peaks popping out of their arms covered in the most grotesque network of veins Danilo had ever seen. “Because we’re still so small, don’t you think?” Evan said. “And this is going to make up bigger!”

            Evan grabbed one of Danilo’s arms. Rupert, the other. Danilo’s frail body rose into the air and he felt the brothers pull. “Tug of war!” The sadistic twins shouted in unison.

            “No! Please!” Danilo’s cries were ignored. He let out a scream so loud it hurt his throat when his shoulders were dislocated. The rest came quick, but the pain made it feel like an eternity. The ligaments, muscle, and skin stretched as far as they could, leaving him in more agonizing pain with each passing second. Then they gave way, one after the other, snapping and popping. His screams only made the brothers enjoy it more. They pulled harder and harder and with one final yank Danilo’s arms tore off. An arterial eruption of blood sprayed the brothers as his limp body fell to the ground. The sudden loss of blood pressure made Danilo lose consciousness, but as his eyes closed for the last time, the final thing they saw was the Glencross brothers swelling with more muscle. More bone crushing, life ending muscle.

 

Chapter 5

            And then there were four.

            They gathered in another opening, staying in the middle this time to avoid the edges. Chris silently mourned his friend, along with Alex and Niles. He still held his pointy branch in his hand and noticed the Alex had picked up Danilo’s. Jeremy paced.

            “What the fuck are we going to do?” Niles asked.

            “For one thing, we’re not going to stay here as long as we stayed at the last spot,” Chris said. “We just catch our breath, and we keep moving.”

            “Agreed,” Jeremy said.

            “Man, I can’t believe he’s gone,” Alex said.

            “Me neither,” said Chris. “That scream’s going to haunt me forever.”

            “We won’t live long enough for it to haunt you,” Niles said.

            “Speak for yourself,” Jeremy said. “I have every intention of surviving.”

            “Me too,” said Chris. “Now let’s move.”

 

***

            The Glencross brothers walked away from their latest kill, with huge smiles on their faces. They were boned up and pumped to the max, riding the high of growth.

            “Man, it feels good to kill,” Rupert said, bouncing his now larger pecs. “Feeling the life leave someone’s body and knowing that it was your muscles that did it.”

            “Feels even better to grow, bro,” Evan said, performing a most muscular pose. The muscles on his body popped, stretching his paper-thin skin. “So fucking swole! I feel like I’m going to explode!”

            Rupert laughed. “Yeah bro. We’re going to be so big by the end of this.”

            “Gigantic!” Even said.

            “As big as father.”

            “No, Bigger than the old man.”

            The brothers felt each other up briefly, admiring their muscles. There was no need to hurry. Those skinny, pathetic, little dweebs weren’t going anywhere, but to the afterlife. There was so much new meat to explore. They’d need a while new wardrobe when this was over. Maybe new, larger beds.

            “This is more fun than the homeless guys we killed last year,” Rupert said.

            “Or the migrants, the year before that,” said Evan. “I think it’s because they’re our classmates. Not just some random undesirables from the street. It’s riskier, so it’s more exciting.”

            “Yeah,” Rupert nodded. “We never killed people with family’s who’d come looking for them, before. You really think father can handle it?”

            Evan looked his brother dead in the eyes. “Do you doubt his connections. He always cleans up our messes.”

            Rupert nodded. “Which one do you want to kill next?”

            “The Latino. He’d make a good punching bag, don’t you think?”

            “Yeah,” Rupert grinned, punching the air, his bulk shaking with each punch. “I need to work on my jab.”

            The Twins knew the maze inside and out. They knew all the shortcuts and thin spots. All the dead ends and openings. They knew where all the surveillance cameras were. And they knew the dismal truth. That these green pathways weren’t really a maze. They were a prison…death row.

            “Let’s see,” Evan said as he approached a peculiarly thick area of bush, a brilliantly convincing piece of camouflage. He reached into the bush and pulled out a small screen that looked like an iPad. After unlocking it with his thumbprint, he tapped the screen a few times with his sausage thick fingers and bought up an image of the pathetic losers running for their lives. Rupert peered over his brother’s shoulder.

            “They took the middle path,” Rupert said.

            Evan smiled. “Too bad for them. That will take them in a loop.”

            “Let’s not waste any time,” Rupert said, pawing at the grass until he found the trap door. He dug is fingers in and lifted the hatch, revealing a set of wooden stairs leading to a subterranean network of tunnels below the maze.

            “This door seems smaller,” Rupert said as he descended.

            “We’re just bigger,” Evan said. “We’ll have to have them widened when this is over.” His wide shoulders grazed the side of the doorway.

            They followed the dimly lit, stone-walled tunnel, for a short distance until they came to another set of stairs. When they climbed out, they took deep breaths of fresh air, happy to be out of the musty, damp tunnels. They knew the dweebs would be passing by any minute now and so they waited in silence, peering through the bushes.

            Just like clockwork, they came running by as expected. Evan saw his choice of prey bringing up the rear, holding a stick. Was that supposed to be a weapon? He laughed. Evan leapt out from his hiding spot and grabbed the runt by his neck. The guy must have weighed 115 or 120 pounds and Evan yanked him of his feet like a doll. His prey attempted to put up a fight, bringing his sorry excuse for weapon up, aiming for Evan’s eyes. Even stopped it with his free hand, snapping the branch and crushing his prey’s hand with one squeeze.

            “Get off him!” The white one shouted, running at him with his own little pointy weapon. Evan kicked him back with one kick, sending him flying of his feet. The black and the Asian grabbed the Latino’s legs and attempted to pull him out of Evan’s vice-like grip. All their strength combined was no match for the power in one of Evan’s arms. He could hardly believe they were trying to put up a fight, but he had to admit, it was making things interesting. He thought they’d just scurry away like the pathetic roaches they were when they caught sight of him. But perhaps they had some big balls on their little bodies.

            Evan though about kicking them away as well, but he was enjoying the tug of war, and the pain it was causing his prey. Didn’t the idiots see that by trying to pull their friend away while Evan had his hand squeezing his throat, they were just hurting him more.

            “What’s taking so long bro!?” Rupert burst out of the bushes. He looked at the runts trying to save their friend and shouted, “It’s not your turn to die! Wait your turn!”

            The black let go of his friend and turned to Rupert. He aimed a hard kick directly at Rupert’s crotch, but the mammoth twin caught it before it could make contact, and lifted him into the air, by his chicken leg. “Fine,” Rupert said. “If you want to die that badly, you can be next.”

            The Asian let go and ran over to the one Evan had kicked, knowing he was no match for the twins. “I’ll see you two in a bit,” Evan said as he and his brother pulled their prey into the bushes.

            “Look at ‘im squirm!” Rupert said, tossing his catch to the ground. “Now here’s the deal, runt.” He got down real low and grabbed him by the shirt. “You’re going to watch while we use your friend as a punching bag. Then you die. Got that. Now you’re probably thinking about running the first chance you get, but you won’t be able too.” Without warning he reached down and broke his victim’s left leg, below the knee. A clean, complete break. He was so strong, it was like breaking a twig to him. It felt so satisfying, the crack, the scream, he decided to snap the other led as well. But why stop there. He could still use his arms to crawl away. That wouldn’t do.

            “Please, no more,” His victim begged. “Just kill me quick.”

            “No,” Rupert said as he broke both of his arms above the elbow, savoring the screams of pain. “Now lie there and watch.”

            “Don’t do this,” the punching bag spoke, as Evan locked his arms in place and pressed his frail torso against his own. “You don’t have to do this!”

            “Yes, we do.” Rupert hit the human punching back hard, in the gut, as his brother held him in place. Then again and again and again. The little thing screamed, and grunted, as Rupert’s punches tore his body up. He moved on to the chest and heard the distinctive sound of ribs cracking, a sound he had come to love over the years. He remembered when his father killed a man in front of them for the first time, when they were only 8 years old. The Elder Glencross had hugged him so tightly his rib cage shattered. Rupert hit him square on the middle of the chest, breaking the sternum. Soooo satisfying. The punching bag coughed, spraying blood from its mouth. This was way better than anything you could get from Everlast.

            “Let him go,” Rupert said. “Let’s see if he can still stand.”

            Evan did so and the punching bag collapsed to its knees. “It’s Not looking too good bro. Let’s play ‘keep it up’”

            Rupert lifted the pathetic whimpering excuse for a human to its feet and then punched it so hard that those feet left the ground. The victim flew over to Evan who punched him back to Rupert. Back and forth they went, not letting their victim collapse to the ground. Every punch powerful enough to break bone and burst organs. Every hit released a spray of blood. Their muscles were getting such a good workout, they hardly wanted to stop, but they had already spilled enough blood to grow. The victim had died many punches ago and his body was now unrecognizable, a red and bruised meat sack, so limp he might as well have been a worm. They let him fall to the ground and looked at their blood-soaked bodies.

            “It’s coming,” Rupert said.

            “Yeah,” Evan closed his eyes and let the ecstasy of expansion overtake him, “Another surge of growth.”

            The blood seeped into their skin. Their cocks hardened as their muscles began to swell, and their height creeped upward. “More, more,” they said in unison as they widened, feeling themselves getting heavier, and stronger.

            “I feel like a god,” Rupert said, when the surge of growth ended.

            “We are gods,” Evan said grinning.

            The brothers nodded in unison and grinned while staring at their next victim, laying broken on the ground. “Gods of death and muscle,” they said in unison.

[musclegin30]

Chapter 6  

            Niles looked up at the two 21-year-old, muscle bound hulks walking towards him. Their thick, dense muscle shaking and flexing with each step. He knew his end was near. How was this possible? He thought about his parents and sister and what they would think when he didn’t come back from what was supposed to be a short and fun weekend trip. What would they do?

            “Please,” he said, through tears. “Make sure my family gets my body, at least. They’ll need closure. I don’t want them spending the rest of their lives wondering why I never came home.”

            “No one ever finds the bodies,” Rupert said, lifting him up like a toy. “Father makes sure of that. Are you ready to die?”

            He was. Niles’ entire body was in agony. So much pain, emanating from his broken limbs. He wanted it to end.

            “That growth got me so boned up,” Evan said. “I need to fuck!”

            “Agreed, bro,” Rupert dropped Niles to the ground. He grunted in pain as he fell flat against the earth.

            The twins removed their skimpy posing trunks and ripped Niles’ clothes off like they were made of tissue paper. He wondered just how strong you had to be to rip denim to easily. When he was naked, the twins hoisted him up once more. Niles didn’t speak. He didn’t struggle or plea. He had accepted his fate and didn’t want to do anything to prolong his suffering. His tormentors began to inspect his naked body and Niles silently listened to their cruel comments.

            “Do your parents fucking feed you? I can see ribs.”

            “God! My forearms are as big as his thigh!”

            “I thought black guys had big cocks, hahaa.”

            “I think we need some lube, bro.” Evan said.

            “Yeah,” Rupert nodded. “And the best lube is blood!”

            “One, two, three.” The brothers counted in unison, then Rupert punched Niles in the mouth, knocking out all of his front teeth, while Evan rammed his hand up his ass, halfway up the forearm. Niles body tensed and shook. He spit his teeth out with a quarter cup of blood and felt the arm slide out of his torn ass hole.

            “Looks nice and lubed up,” Evan said. “He’s bleeding really good.”

            They penetrated him, how they seemed to do everything else, together. Their cocks had to have been ten inches fully erect. The largest Niles had ever seen. And thick! My God, so thick! Eight inches around, at least. He feared the damage those meat sticks could do. Evan pounded his ass, while Rupert throat fucked him. He gagged, and winced, and cried. With each stroke, the brothers moved faster. Every thrust came harder than the one before. His nose was broken against Rupert’s hairy crotch. His ass went numb. The brothers fucked as fast as a machine and as aggressively as monsters.

            Niles felt their cocks throb and spasm as his insides were destroyed. He knew they were about to cum and wondered how he was still conscious, let alone alive. Then he felt it. His back snapped and his body crumpled like a can, giving way to the power of the two muscle monsters. He died as they orgasmed, filling his broken body with copious amount of cum.

           The brothers swelled with new muscle, while their latest victim was still impaled on their cocks.

[musclegin30]

Chapter 7    

            Chris took a while to recover from the kick he had received. All the wind had been knocked out of him and he felt like his stomach had been knocked into his throat. Still, he had to force himself to run, pulled a long by Jeremy. Had he really been kicked like a ball, lifted into the air? God, were those psychos strong! Unnaturally so. What kind of supernatural shit did he and his friends get themselves mixed up in?

            “You keep going,” Chris said, clutching his aching stomach. “I have to rest.”

            “I’m not leaving you behind.” Jeremy said.

            Chris looked at him. How quicky a shared enemy could make friends out of strangers. He could use all the friends he could get now, having just lost three in less than an hour. With his fight or flight response kicked up to 11, he didn’t even have time to properly mourn them. Fuck, he thought, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

          “We should keep moving,” Jeremy said, between huffs and puffs.

          Chris shook his head. He had another reason for stopping. He couldn’t think if he was running, and he really needed to think right now. Brawn wasn’t going to get him out of this. He didn’t have any. Brains were his only hope.

          “I’m thinking,” Chris said.

           Jeremy looked down at him. “About what?”

          “About how those psychos are moving around the maze.”

          Jeremy shrugged. “The same way we are, just faster, because they have homefield advantage.”

         “I don’t think so,” Chris stood up from his stooped position, feeling better. “I think they moving faster than us, because they have a shortcut.”

         “Through, the weak spots in the hedges?”

         Chris shook his head, and pointed to the ground.

         Jeremy looked down. “You think they’re moving around underground.”

        “I like to do my research,” Chris said. “Before I came on this trip, I dug up a little bit on Glencross Estate. Apparently, it was important during prohibition, for moving mob liquor. The bootleggers built tunnels under the place, so they could move in secret. What if those tunnels are still in use?”

        “I don’t know man,” Jeremy shook his head. “That’s a wild hunch.”

         “My hunches are usually right,” Chris said, moving on.

         “Is that so?” Jeremy followed behind him.

        “Yeah, my last hunch told me not to come here.”

         “I’ll try anything to get out of here alive,” Jeremy said “but what even are we looking for?”

          Chris stared at the ground. “Places where the grass looks weird. Or where the earth feels weird beneath your feet. It will probably be near the edges.”

         “We should go back the way we came,” Jeremy said. “If they’re following us underground, we should go back and enter behind them. These tunnels would lead to the manor, right?”

            Chris nodded, still eyeing the ground. “They stored liquor in the basement, so yeah. But I think you’re looking at it wrong. They aren’t following behind us. They’re moving ahead of us and waiting. They know where we’re headed because they know the only paths we can take. Then they ambush us. They’re probably already ahead of us.”

            Jeremy frowned. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”

            “What choice do I- look!” Chris pointed to a patch of grass that looked a little less healthy than the rest. Unhealthy grass in a lawn wasn’t peculiar, but for the patch to be in the shape of a perfect rectangle…

            They ran to it. Jeremy pushed on it with his foot. “It’s got a little spring to it. Man, if you’re right about this, I’ll kiss you.”

            Chris dropped to his knees, looking for a handle, a seam, anything. He felt all around the rectangle. Jeremy joined him, starting on the other side.

            “I got something,” Jeremy said. “One, two, three… they’re holes, like eight of them.”

            “Finger holes.” Chris moved beside him. He stuck his fingers into four of the holes. Jeremy stuck his into the other four and they lifted together, revealing a trapdoor leading into the earth. The stairs were old and wooden, and the tunnel was lit dimly with a string of tiny lights.

            “It goes both directions,” Jeremy said, “But I think the manor is that way.” He pointed ahead.

            Chris closed his eyes and tried to replay all the various turns they had made. “I think you’re right. After you. He motioned to the cryptlike entrance.”

            “Brains before beauty.” Jeremy gave him a gentle shove. Chris entered first, not wanting to waste any more time, while Jeremy held the door open.

            “Well, what are you waiting for?” Chris said when he got to the bottom.

            “To see if you get attacked.”

            “Get in here.” Chris hissed.

            Jeremy entered the tunnel, letting, the door close behind, with a dull thud.

 

***

            The twins pulled their massive muscle cocks out of their latest victim and let his destroyed body fall in a heap at their feet. They felt their larger muscles bumping into each other, fighting for space on their packed frames. They felt so dense and heavy, now well over 350 lbs and closing in on 7 ft.

            “We’ll outsize the old man soon,” Evan said, bouncing his pecs, pecs so large obstructed the view of his cock.

            “We better,” Rupert said. “This is the last year we can grow. I’d hate if we never ended up bigger than the old man.”

            Their ancestor had made a deal with a demon for immense strength and size. He only had to kill for it. Over the years the gift passed from Glencross man to Glencross man, but the growth was limited to their birthdays and only from the ages of 18 to 21. After 21, no Glencross man could ever grow any larger no matter what they tried. Demons never shared power without a catch. The twins had been so small with they killed for the first time, but the rush of growth soon became addicting. A soul was a small price to pay for that. Even better was the feeling of absolute power that came from snuffing out a life. The twins loved it so much, they knew even after the growth stopped, they’d continue using their muscles and super strength to kill, just as their father did, for the rest of their lives.

            “Let’s go squash the other runts,” Evan said, pulling another screen from a secret hiding place. He scrolled through the various cameras. “Hmm. I don’t see them.”

            “What do you mean, you don’t see them?” Rupert grabbed the screen and stared. “They couldn’t have gotten out of the maze.”

            “Rewind the images,” Evan said.

            Rupert did so. “There!” He tapped the screen and let the video play.

            Evan shook his head as he watched their prey lift a trap door and go underground. The clock on the video told him it happened 10 minutes ago. “So, they found the tunnel. Pull up the underground cameras.”

            Rupert did so. “They’re heading in the direction of the manor! We need to message father and let him know to-”

            “No!” Evan shouted. “He was already ashamed of us for not choosing harder targets for our last growth day. What do you think he’d say if we let two runts like that escape the maze? We’ll catch them, bro, on our own, before they make it to the manor, and then we’ll crush them into paste.” Evan pounded a fist into his hand and every muscle on his body flexed with fury.

 

***

            Jeremy and Chris moved through the dimly lit tunnel, carefully, but quickly. It stank of the earth and the air was stale. It made Chris imagine what it would be like to be buried alive.

            “I can’t believe this,” Jeremy said, in a somber tone. “This is all surreal. Like a nightmare come to life.”

            “This nightmare will be over soon,” Chris replied. “When we get to the manor, we’ll have a fighting chance. As big as it is, we’ll be able to get to a phone somewhere, before they find us. Or maybe we could get to the front door and-”

            “We should burn the whole fucking place to the ground," Jeremy said, interrupting him.

            “I’m focused on escaping,” Chris said.

            Jeremy clenched his little fists. “I’m focused on payback.”

            Chris wanted payback as well, for Danilo, Niles, Alex, and even Mike, though he didn’t really know him. He wanted the Glencross twins to get everything that was coming to them, to suffer the way they made others suffer, and then to die. But he knew he couldn’t fight them. The best revenge he could do was to escape and contact the police. Those psycho twins wouldn’t grow from spilling his blood. Of that, he was sure. He wouldn’t let himself contribute to making them bigger and stronger. They already had enough: Money, muscle, good looks, popularity, and magic powers. They couldn’t have his life, too! That was his to do with as he pleased.

            “Look at that,” Chris pointed to a set of rusty garden tools. They were nestled in a bit of an alcove, covered in dust and cobwebs. “The must have used this space for extra storage a long time ago.”

            “This could be useful,” Jeremy picked up a pitchfork. “It’s way better than a pointy branch.”

            Chris lifted an axe, and bounced it in his hands, feeling the heft of it. He knew there was a chance that these weapons would be snatched right out of their weak little hands and used against them, so he let the heavy axe fall back to the ground. Running was his best option.

            “Do you hear that?” Jeremy said, shortly after they started down the tunnel again. He grabbed Chris by the shoulder, stopping him. Chris listened. He heard the distinctive sound of footsteps, heavy footsteps.

            “They’re coming. We run for it.” Chris said, yanking at Jeremy’s shirt.

             Behind them, he heard one of the brothers shout, “I can hear them running, come on!”

            “Up ahead, a door!” Chris said. He looked to his side and Jeremy was gone. He had been running right beside him. Chris stopped and turned. Jeremy was stopped in the middle of the path, pitchfork held in an attack position.

            Jeremy turned his head to him. “Don’t stop. Get out of here.”

           “We can both make it to the door!” Chris shouted. “Don’t be stupid!” The twins grew larger in the distance, quickly closing the gap. They seemed to fill the tunned with their mass, so wide, they couldn’t run side by side as Chris and Jeremy had.

          “You make it out,” Jeremy said. “I want to make them bleed, and if they kill me, at least I’ll be with the only person that ever really loved me.” Jeremy got down low and took a huge handful of dirt in one hand while he clenched the pitchfork tightly with the other.

           In that moment, Chris understood just how much Mike must have meant to him. He decided not to waste another second pleading with him. Instead, he used the opportunity Jeremy gave him and ran for it, faster than he’d ever ran before. He ran into the heavy wooden door and pushed it open. Behind him, he heard Jeremy scream.

 

***

            Jeremy kept his eyes trained on the muscle behemoths barreling towards him. His stance was low and wide. They had the size and strength. He had the weapon and nothing to lose. “Come on you bastards. Come on!” Jeremy let out a mighty scream. A battle cry.

            Evan was in front of his brother. “You’re dead you little shit!” He snarled.

            Jeremy waited until he was 3 paces away, then tossed the dirt directly in Evan’s face. The beast stopped, growled, and rubbed his eyes, as Jeremy pushed the pitchfork forward. It struck Evan in the chest, going in a couple of inches. Jeremy might not have been strong enough to do it alone, but Rupert bumped into his brother from behind, pushing him into the pitch fork.

            “Get tetanus, motherfucker!” Jeremy backed away. Evan’s eyes were red and watering, but he could see. If Jeremy aimed high again, the monster twin might grab the fork, so he swung it low, scratching Evans chins. Evan growled in pain and anger, bumping his head on the tunnel roof, as Jeremy backed away, once more. The tunned was cramped and the Twins were huge, too large and musclebound to maneuver comfortably. Jeremy jammed the pitchfork into the ground and then immediately bought it up like a golf club, sending clumps of hard packed earth flying at the twins faces.

            The twins covered their eyes. Rupert shoved his brother to the side and struggled to squeeze his wide frame past him. Jeremy smiled, seeing an opportunity to go for the face. He aimed the pitch form at Jeremy’s eyes, but the hulking twin raised his hand to push it out of the way. His aim was off, however, and Jeremy drove the pitchfork though his hand. The sound of Rupert’s scream was sweet music to him, but his pleasure was short-lived. Evan grabbed the pitch fork’s handle, yanking the tines out of his brother’s hand and knocking Jeremy to the ground in the process. Jeremy fumbled, attempting to get to his feet and run, but Evan threw the pitch fork like a spear, impaling him though the thigh. He let out a scream and collapsed on his back. 

            “Take that, insect!” Evan shouted.

            Rupert grabbed the fork and yanked it out of Jeremy’s leg. An arterial spray of blood shot up from his leg. “You’ll bleed out in short while, but first me and my bro want you to experience having your spine ripped out!”

            Jeremy spit in his face. “That anatomically impossible meathead!”

            Rupert sneered. “I saw it in predator movie.” He crouched down and flipped Jeremy over then ripped the clothes of his back.

            “I got this!” Evan said.

            Rupert stepped over to Jeremy’s front to give his brother room. Evan Glencross dug his fingers into the flesh of Jeremy’s neck as easy as if it were a tender pot roast. Jeremy gritted his teeth, not wanting to give the brothers the satisfaction of hearing another one of his screams. He blacked out from the blood loss, but not before losing all feeling in his body, as his spine was severed.

 

Chapter 8

            Chris closed the door behind him and scanned the room he was in. A basement, filled with dusty old antiques and decades of accumulated junk. It was dark but his eyes adjusted quickly because the tunnel had been so dim. He pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling and turned on a solitary incandescent bulb. There was a cabinet, a hutch, and metal filing cabinet near the door he had entered. He knocked them all down, barricading the door. Those two hulks could probably burst through it eventually, but it would buy him a little more time.

            “Hmmm.” He scanned the room. There was a staircase on the other side of the basement, leading upstairs, but something else caught his eye first. Bags of Kingsford Charcoal stacked on a baker’s rack. If there was charcoal, then maybe… “Bingo!” Chris picked up a bottle of lighter fluid and a box of matches. We should burn the whole fucking place to the ground. Jeremy’s words echoed in his head. He proceeding to light the pile of stuff in front of the door on fire. Hopefully the twins would get fourth degree burns. He ran to the stairs, but stopped cold, when he heard a bang at the door that seemed to shake the room.

            “Oooh Chris! We’re coming for you!” A deep voice boomed. Then a meat arm burst through the door, like it was made of cardboard. The flames rose up blocking Chris’ view.

           “Come and get me assholes.” He darted up the stairs.

 

***

 

            Lawrence Glencross sat in his favorite room in the East Wing, the trophy room, where the family kept mementos of all the people they had sacrificed through the years, to satisfy their lust for size. He was reading a crime novel. They always gave him creative ideas for disposing of evidence.

            He had felt a hint of curiosity and thought about looking in on the security cameras in the maze, but decided against it. Watching his boys hunt such easy prey wouldn’t be very interesting. Those runts wouldn’t be a challenge at all. Honestly, he thought, his boys were such a disappointment. Where was their sense of pride? They’re fighting spirit? Did they really want the muscle, without the struggle. Lawrence remembered killing soldiers, boxers, wrestlers, and mercenaries back in his day, but his pathetic spawn wanted to kill a bunch of nerds that couldn’t fight back. He shook his head. Maybe he should have beat them harder when they were kids and toughened them up more.

            He sat the book down, and stared at the laptop beside him. “Maybe just a peek.” He opened it and bought up the cameras. To his surprise he saw no movement. A few dead bodies, but his sons were nowhere to be seen. Had they finished so soon. He flipped over to the subterranean cameras, and as he did so, he heard the fire alarm.

            “What the Hell?” He rose to his feet. If those two idiots fucked this up, he thought, as he left to investigate, I’ll kill them. He was still virile. He could make more sons.

 

***

 

            Chris came up the stairs and into a Kitchen. There were windows, but he didn’t have time to climb out of them. The fire alarm above him was blaring as smoke crept up from the basement. If the father was coming or the twins made it up the stairs, he didn’t want to be caught hanging half out the window, unable to run. Instead, he lit the counter on fire with a splash if lighter fluid and a lit match, then made for the doorway leading to a hallway just outside the kitchen. To his left, he saw a staircase leading upstairs, and to his right…oh shit. Lawrence Glencross was lumbering down the hall, looking demonically angry.

            “Staircase it is.” Chris ran for it. He heard the elder Glencross’ heavy footsteps chasing behind him, and stopped briefly to light the landing of the staircases on fire. Every fire he lit was a ‘fuck you’ to the Glencrosses and a memorial to the fallen. Jeremy was right. Escaping wasn’t good enough. He needed to burn it to the ground.

            On the second floor he saw a guest bedroom, but no phone, so he lit the bed on fire and left. Then he came to a huge office with a grand window and massive oak desk. On the desk, sitting smack dab in the middle was a cordless phone. “There is a God!” He grabbed it and dialed 9-1-1. After he pressed the final number, he saw the screen on the base go blank and the phone go dead. No power. Did the Glencross’ cut the power or did the fire in the basement?

            “Fuck!” He exclaimed, grabbing the desk chair and tossing in at the window, shattering it. If it has been a corded landline, it would have worked during a power outage!

            Lawrence Glencross appeared in the doorway, holding a fire extinguisher. Without a pause Chris sprayed a wide arc of lighter fluid around the desk. He lit a match and dropped it, as Lawrence stepped through the doorway, igniting an arc of flames that snaked across the room. Lawrence aimed the fire extinguisher at the fire and blew a cloud of white. Rupert and Evan appeared in the doorway, bloody, dirty, and burned, larger than Chris had seen them last. They were each almost as large as their father. Even in that injured, filthy state, they looked dangerous.

            “This house has seen many fires in its history,” Lawrence Glencross said, extinguishing the flames in front of him. “And it still stands. All this was for nothing, boy! You’ve nowhere to run! You will still die!”

            The twins entered the room, scowling. Chris’ back was to the broken window, so close he could feel the breeze ruffle the hair on the back of his head. “I know I’m going to die, but your sons won’t get the joy of doing it. My life is mine. My blood is mine! And this skinny nerd won’t help them gain another ounce of muscle.”

            Chris accepted his fate. He fell back, letting gravity take hold of him, and hoping the fall was high enough to kill him instantly. Lawrence Glencross lunged forward, arms outstretched. His massive hands just grazed Chris’ pantleg but couldn’t grab hold. Chris closed his eyes and saw nothing at the end.

 

***

 

            Lawrence Glencross turned to his sons, “You fucking pathetic pieces of shit! Look at you. You’re bleeding. Those pathetic excuses for men made you bleed!” He stepped to them, now only a couple of inches taller than them, and shook his head. “How could you let one of them escape you? How? If you had invited real men, you’d probably be dead right now. I ought to kill you myself. You’re no sons of mine. You’re a disgrace to the Glencross legacy.”

            “Father, we need to do something about the fire in the basement,” Rupert said.

            Lawrence slapped him across the cheek. “Speak again and next time it will be a punch. If your grandfather was alive to see this failure, he’d have disowned you. I should disown you.”

            “Father, shut up!” Evan screamed. He was the only man he and his brother had ever taken shit from and now it was becoming too much.

            Lawrence made a fist and brought it down upon his son like a hammer, but Evan caught it, and pushed it back. “Enough, old man.”

            “Oh, you think you’re tough, because you’re almost as big as me now.” Lawrence smirked. “We’ll almost is all you’ll ever be. You let your last kill commit suicide, and this was your last year of growth!”

            “There’s still one person left we can kill,” Evan said with an evil grin. Rupert looked at him and then to his father, and nodded.

            Lawrence let out an incredulous laugh. “You wouldn’t kill your own father.”

            “We would,” Rupert said, clenching his fists, wincing slightly at the pain in his injured hand.

            “Two 21-year-olds, against one 48-year-old?” Lawrence grinned. “Hardly seems fair,” he said, raising his fists and moving into a fighting stance.  

            Evan looked him dead in the eyes “You taught us many things father. To be cruel. To be ruthless, and…”

            “To never play fair!” The twins said in unison.

            Evan went high. Rupert went low. Within a second, their father was flat on his back. The old man fought fiercely, kicking, punching, and biting. Even on his back against two opponents he was hard to fully overpower. Their father struggled so hard his massive muscles burst through the seams of his tight clothes. At one point he nearly managed to stand again, but Rupert knocked him back down.

            For every hit Lawrence managed to land, he received two. Evan broke his nose. Rupert knocked his teeth in. Rupert snapped a shin bone, Evan a forearm. And still their father struggled. Evan slammed his head into the floor until it bled, then got underneath him and wrapped his arms around his father’s torso.

            “How about one last hug father!” Every muscle in his body flexed, seeming to double in size as he squeezed, feeling his father’s ribcage crack from the force. Lawrence let out a scream of agony.

            Rupert stood, straddling them with his tree trunk legs, and bent over with clenched fists. He bought his huge fists down, one to one side of his father’s face and one to the other. The full force of his blow crushed his father’s jaw and Rupert smiled at the satisfying crunching souns it made.

            Evan felt his father’s torso collapse, the sharp ribs, caving in and puncturing his internal organs. His father began to gurgle, drowning in his own fluids, as his airways filled with blood. Finally, after who knows how long of squeezing against his father’s densely muscled frame, he felt know resistance. Lawrence Glencross went completely limp, and Evan rolled him off onto the floor.

            The Brother’s stood, covered in their father’s blood, and hugged. As they held each other, they began to grow once more, as the blood was absorbed through their skin. They swelled with muscle and height while still clinging to each other, feeling each other’s new mass.

            “We’re as big as him now,” Evan whispered.

            “No, we’re bigger.” Said Rupert.

            As the brothers held each other, the fire raged below them, spreading through Glencross manor.

[musclegin30]

Epilogue  

             “What a fucking mess!” Detective Jean Morgan said, as she leaned on the black Lincoln parked outside the burned Glencross Manor. She brushed her dirty blond hair out of her face as she looked up at the structure.

            Her prematurely balding partner, Det. Owen Lerner, fumbled with an iPad beside her. They were waiting for one of the CSU guys.

            Jean stared at the Manor, trying to understand why anyone would put those two hideous statues out front. She also wondered what kind a freaky shit went down there, earlier that day. The things she heard… Headless bodies, dismembered bodies, crushed bodies, a fire. It was enough to make her head spin. When she heard the old place had gone up, she expected a standard arson investigation. She didn’t expect homicide. Much less, a multiple homicide.

            “Who called this in?” Owen asked, looking up from his iPad. “Do you know?”

            “Hiker, saw the smoke, and called the fire department, thinking it was a forest fire,” Jean said. “The fireman called it in when they found the bodies. Bell Cove PD was first on the seen.”

            “Detectives!” The CSU guy approached. His name tag read Francis. He extended a hand, and they shook.

            “You guys had a mess, huh, Francis,” Owen said.

            Francis nodded. “One of the worst I’ve seen in years. 7 bodies, all mangled. One had his freaking spine ripped out and one half burnt body looked like it belonged to a giant.”

            “How’s the interior?” Jean asked.

            “Much of the house was saved, amazingly, but the smoke damage has it pretty unlivable.”

            “Definitely arson?” Owen asked.

            “What the firemen say,” Francis said. “There were signs of an accelerant.”

            Jean caught site of a uniformed officer approaching.

            “You’re one of the first responders?” She asked.

            The young Latino officer nodded his head. His cap bounced slightly. “I discovered two of the bodies myself and managed to contact several of the staff.”

            “What did they tell you?” Jean asked.

            The officer adjusted his cap. “Lawrence Glencross lived here with is two college aged sons. The mother was deceased. Died of cancer several years ago. All the staff was given the weekend off for unknown reasons.”

            Jean nodded. That sounded suspicious to her. Why were all the staff sent away. That sounded like someone knew something was going down and didn’t want any witnesses. “Were the Glencross’ amongst the bodies.” She turned to Francis.

            “We believe Lawrence was the half-burned body, but dental records will have to confirm that,” Francis said. The others were pretty obvious, since they all had wallets. We’ll confirm the headless body with DNA, but we believe he was Michael Fischer. The others were Niles Hollis, Jeremy Leung, Christopher Porter, Alex Maridueña, and Danilo Vasylyk.”

            “So, no sons?”

            “No sons.” Francis shook his head.

            Jean looked at the officer. “Could the staff confirm if the sons were here.

            The officer shrugged his shoulders. “They were home from school. They could confirm that, but not whether they were here at the time all this happened.”

            “Assuming they were here,” Jean said. “Your house is on fire, people are dead, your father among them, why wouldn’t you call 911.”

            “You wouldn’t call 911 if you did it,” Owen said.

Jean looked at him, “Bingo! Assuming they were here, of course. And if they don’t show up soon, wondering what happened to their family home, that’s the assumption I’m running with.”

            “If they did do this, I hope they burned up in the fire and we just haven’t found the evidence yet,” Francis said.

            “Why’s that?” Owen asked.

            “When you see the bodies, you’ll understand. Anyone who could do what I’ve seen today is pure evil. Who knows what else they’d be capable of, but I tell you the world isn’t ready for it.” Francis shook his head. “If the Glencross boys did all this, I hope they are dead.”

            Francis led the way. Jean and Owen followed, taking in the full horror of what had happened at Glencross Estate. In her 18-year career Jean Morgan thought she had seen everything, but for the first time in memory a crime scene made her sick.

 

***

            From the far edge of the estate, the two mammoth brothers watched, studying all the activity going on. Countless police and investigators milled about.

            “We’ve still got 6 hours left in our birthday,” Evan said.

            “And that’s a lot of people we can kill,” Rupert replied.

            The brother’s shared a sinister smile. At 385 lbs. and 7 ft tall, they were still a little too small. “Let the game continue,” Evan said.    

[MrAlice]

I loved every second of this!!!

[musclegin30]

1 minute ago, MrAlice said:

I loved every second of this!!!

Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[alexdog]

Fantastic!