The Estate: Part II (Horror Story)

[musclegin30]

Synopsis

The Glencross twins are back to finish their day of killing. This time they face off against the police sent to investigate their gruesome crimes. They expect a night of killing and growing, but what they don't expect is their estranged Uncle. He knows the secret to their power, and with him on police's side can they put an end to the Glencross twins' reign of terror once and for all? Find out in this, the stunning conclusion of "The Estate" 

Prologue

            Patrick Glencross sat in the burgundy wingback chair of his living room, nursing a brandy. It was early, but he needed a drink. A cigar lay dying in the ashtray beside him as he stared out of his penthouse window, eyes fixed on a point so far in the distance he couldn’t actually see it, though he knew it was there: Glencross Estate, the house of blood and horror. He tapped his loafered foot on the floor and drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Fuck,” he mumbled, after a sip of Brandy so small it did nothing but wet the tip of his tongue.

            It was his nephews’, Evan and Rupert’s, birthday. They were 21. Like most of the men in the Glencross line, they had signed their names in blood in the demon’s book and the gift (really a curse) had passed to them. Strength and size, the ideal masculine form, and all they had to do was kill for it. Patrick shook his head at the thought.

            He and his brother, Lawrence, had each been given the chance to sign their names when they turned 18. Lawrence was the older brother by one year and jumped at the chance with glee, signing the book quickly, under the proud gaze of their heavily muscled giant of a father. Patrick refused when his turn came, however, not sharing his family’s bloodlust. He watched with jealousy as his brother grew year after year, the pride of his father’s eye, while he was the black sheep pariah, pushed aside, ignored, laughed at.

            He built his body the natural way, the moral way, developing a great physique for a man nearing 50. He was thick and toned, but nothing like his colossus of a brother. At least his conscience was clean and his soul, safe…

            But was it? He often wondered if it was enough for the good to not commit evil, or if it was the good’s duty to actively fight it, and end evil. Was cutting ties with his family and refusing to take part in their evil enough to ensure his salvation, or did he have to ensure that the evil could not go on? He knew his nephews had signed the book and for three years he sat idly by while they killed and grew. One day they would have sons of their own, who would be pressured to sign the book and the evil would persist.

            Patrick rose from his chair and clenched his fists; a look of determination fell upon his face as he caught his reflection in the windowpane. He saw the wrinkles around his eyes, the thinning hair, going grey. If he waited any longer, he’d be too old to make a move, and it had to be him that made the move. This was family business. He flexed and felt his muscles swell against the fabric of his plaid button-down shirt. He still had strength. Patrick nodded his head. He’d go to Glencross Estate, barge through the doors of that manor, knock his brother flat on his back if he had to, and destroy the demon’s book.

            “Destroy the book. End the curse!”  

 

Chapter 1

            Officer Sean Henderson stood, casually flexing his muscles beneath his dark blue uniform. Fuck, he filled it out good. The fabric stretched, having a hard time containing the bulging mounds of mass he had built over years of heavy lifting, heavy eating, and heavy roiding. There were some other big guys on the force, but none came close to him. Henderson was by far the biggest man at the station. Probably the most handsome as well, he thought, with his close-cut blonde hair, green eye, wide jaw and strong cheeks. Henderson had to laugh at himself. It was just like him to be thinking about how hot he was, when his mind should have been on the situation at hand: the chaotic murder scene and investigation happening around him.

            “Enjoying yourself?” Came a voice from his left. Sean turned to see Officer Vincent Amato sauntering up to him. “What’s the matter big guy, you got nothing better to do than flex those huge muscles of yours?”

            “I can think of a few things I could be doing,” Sean said. “Like this…” He grabbed Vincent and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

            “Woah, big fella,” Vincent said, when they released. “Not when we’re working, remember.”

            Sean looked down at his twink of a man. Well, Vincent was actually an average sized guy, but next to Sean’s 275 lbs, average men looked like twinks. Sean smiled as he stared at his man’s handsome face, his dark, slicked back hair, 5 o’ clock shadow, and tanned Italian features.

            “I’m starting not to care if anyone sees,” Sean said. “So what if they find out? Most of the guys on the force would be too chicken shit to say anything to me.” Sean laughed. “Just let someone try to call me a fairy.”

            “Well, I do care, baby,” Vincent said, looking side to side, “And in case you hadn’t noticed, we have police work to do.”

 

***

 

            Det. Jean Morgan’s eyes darted from side to side, as she and her partner, Det. Owen Lerner, toured the crime scene. Her eyes would linger on a footprint here and a blood splatter, there. Her mind was racing to piece it all together. There were a thousand clues, each a puzzle piece, that would present a clear picture if only she could put it all together in the right order. What the hell happened at Glencross Estate?

            “Most of the killings seemed to take place in the extensive hedge maze,” Francis, the CSI, said. He was a young, freckled guy, with messy red hair. He looked fresh out of college, despite being nearly 30. Jean was reminded just how old she was getting. Everyone was looking like a kid. 18 years of this shit would do it. Every case left a line on her face and even darker circles under her eyes. She needed a long vacation, somewhere tropical, but in that moment, she’d have settled for a cup of joe.

            “I’m thinking this could have been something ritual,” Owen said. “You know a lot of these old families are involved in secret societies, and weird rituals.”

            “Is that right?” Jean smiled.

            “It’s an unspoken truth,” Owen said, nodding his head. “Look at Epstein. A lot of money makes a person think they’re God. It makes them live in their own world, separate from reality. A world with their own rules and beliefs. You ever heard of Bohemian Grove?”

            Jean rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to make sure to put all that in the report, Lerner. The chief will get a bang out of it.”

            Jean brushed it off with a joke but wouldn’t rule it out. She never ruled anything out this early in an investigation. Something about these grisly murders didn’t seem normal, whether it was because of some ritual or not, she couldn’t be sure, but her intuition was telling her that the puzzle she pieced together was going to be a strange one. Call it a woman’s intuition, but don’t call it that around her. Jean Morgan called it a detective’s intuition because that was what she considered herself. A detective first, and a woman second. And the intuition was telling her something else: That they were all being watched.

[musclegin30]

Chapter 2

            Evan and Rubert Glencross stood on the outskirts of their property surveying the hustle and bustle of the investigators. Rupert absentmindedly rubbed the hole in his hand and Evan did the same so the holes in his chest. Their injuries from the day’s earlier events had already begun to heal from the growth induced by killing their father. One or two more kills and they’d be fully healed. Though the colossal twins were looking forward to far more kills than that.

            “Oh God,” Rupert said. “Look how fucking huge we are bro.” He flexed his arms and chest, muscles so big they’d put any pro bodybuilder to shame. “And with all those people down there, we’re going to get so much fucking bigger. I can imagine it bro. We’ll be fucking muscle giants, too big for cars, too wide for any doors. We’ll just burst through walls, destroying any shit we like, taking whatever the fuck we want, and killing anybody that tries to stop us. We’re the biggest Glencross men that have ever lived, and now we’re about to get even bigger!” as Rupert spoke his 10 in cock grew painfully hard. He leaked a stream of thick precum that stretched to the ground.

            “Bro, you just got me so horned up right now,” Evan said, grabbing his own throbbing 10-inch member. He began to stroke the shaft and turned to his brother. “Our pecs will be so big we won’t be able to see our dicks.” He reached out and touched his brother’s chest. Rubert bounced his pecs.

            “Our backs will be so big we won’t be able to wipe our own asses,” Rupert said, laughing, as he reached out to touch his brother’s swollen, pumped muscles.

            “Lats so big, we won’t be able to put our arms down straight.”

            “Biceps so big we won’t be able to touch our shoulders.”

            Back and forth they went, engrossed by their own size, worshipping each other’s bodies, and fantasizing about their future growth. Evan began to jerk himself faster until he let out a massive load of creamy white spunk across his brother’s abs. “Fuuuck,” he moaned. Rupert came hands free, showering his brother’s pecs with his thick, sticky seed.

            “Fuck yeah,” Evan said. “Now let’s go crush some pigs.”

            “They’ll have guns, clubs, tasers, and mace,” Rupert said, with a smirk.

            “A challenge,” Evan said, “Just like the old man wanted us to have. Too bad the fucker’s not here to see it.” He laughed.

            Evan and Rupert walked Toward the action, their nude, hulking frames swaying slightly as they walked. They were two wild beasts heading toward their hunting grounds.

            They came upon their first victims near the eastern corner of the property. Two officers, one fat and one skinny, had parked a patrol at the end of the side access road, a gravel and dirt path that was seldom used by anyone but the grounds keepers. The two clueless men had flashlights and walked slowly, their heads turning side to side, as they spoke to each other in low voices.

            “It’s been a while since I practiced my fast ball,” Evan said, crouching in the unruly stand of invasive Japanese Knotweed that thrived in the wet land on that end of the property.

            “Here,” Rupert passed him a baseball sized stone, and took one for himself. He squeezed the stone in his hand, feeling strong enough to crush it into pebbles if he had to.

            Evan rose and took up a pitcher’s stance. He threw the stone with shocking force and accuracy, striking the fat cop in the back of the head. The pig went down like a felled tree trunk. When the skinny one turned, gun in hands and a curse on his lips, he was met by Rupert’s stone right between the eyes.

            “All right!” The brothers exclaimed in unison. They lumbered out of the weeds, and ran to their fallen victims.

            “And I though our baseball game would be rusty after so many years playing football,” Evan said.

            Rupert laughed. “We’re natural athletes bro. We Kill at any sport, hehe.”

            The fat officer groaned loudly, struggling to move, like a wounded walrus. He lay flat on his stomach, bleeding from the back of the head. The skinny officer was motionless, laying on his back and bleeding from the forehead.

            “Would you look at these pathetic pigs,” Evan said. His booming voice cause the fat officer to look back. He pushed himself up and tried to reach for his gun in one swift motion, but the hit to his head and his heavy body meant his motion was less than swift. Rupert bought a massive size 16 foot down on the officer’s back, pushing his blubbery body to the ground. He reached down and immediately took the officer’s weapons and walkie, tossing them off to the side. Evan did the same with the other officer.

            “Roll over pig!” Rupert commanded. The officer did so, staring up at the brutal, young, muscle god, with shock and awe. His fat jowls, quivered as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t say anything. He was overwhelmed by the muscle and size that his attackers possessed. They hardly looked human.

            “Wake the skinny one up,” Rupert said.

            Evan immediately aimed his mammoth cock at the skinny officer’s face and let out a powerful stream of pungent, dark piss. He smiled wickedly as the little officer came too, wiping his face, spitting, and struggling to breath.

            “Wakey, wakey,” Evan sneered.  

            Rupert shook his head. “Man! Would you look at these two. I thought police officers were supposed to be in shape, instead we got one who looks like he’s never eaten anything but donuts and another who looks like he hasn’t seen a weight in his life.”

            “A sad state, the force is in,” Evan said, shaking his head. “Cops are supposed to be fit and strong, like us.” He bought his arms up into a double bicep pose, peaks rising high above his shoulders. “They should have muscles like this to crush criminals into paste.” He moved into a most muscular pose, his pecs bulging out so far, they hit his chin.

            “Who the fuck are-” the skinny cop began, but Evan silenced him with a stomp to the groin, that sounded like it did more than bust his balls. Evan was certain he felt the pelvis crack.

            “You only speak when we ask you a question,” Evan commanded. “Got that.”

            The officers nodded, meekly. They were helpless at the hands of these twin titans, and knew it.

            “For the rest of your lives, you two will have new names,” Rupert said. “You’re Officer Blubber.” He pointed to the fat one. “And you’re Officer Twig.” He pointed to the skinny one. “You got that?”

            The officers nodded.

            “Good.” Rupert smiled. “Now, since it’s obvious you two have never seen gods like us before, I think me and my bro here should give you a treat, and let you get up close and personal with our muscles. Letting you see what you’ve been missing by not developing your bodies.”

            “You first, Officer Blubber,” Rupert said, yanking the officer to his feet with one hand. “You see this bicep. This is what a real man’s arm should look like.” He flexed his arm. “Lick it. Oh, I’m sorry, is that too high for you, let me lower it a bit.” Rupert lowered his arm so it was level with Officer Blubber’s mouth. The fat cop just stared at the massive muscle.

            “Lick it!” Rupert boomed, and the officer immediately did so.

            “You call that a lick?” Rupert, scoffed. “Do it slow. Really taste the muscle. You look like a guy whose licked a lot of ice cream cones.”

            “If I do what you say, will you let me live?” Officer Blubber asked. “I have a family.”

            Rupert laughed. “You’re not very good at reading a situation, you?” He immediately grabbed the officer’s head and wrapped his meaty arm around it. “Here’s your fucking answer!” Rupert squeezed. The veiny arm seemed to double in size as he flexed. His bicep pushed into the side of the officer's flabby head, pressing it against his forearm. Officer Blubber struggled, punching and kicking as the hard muscle compressed his skull. Within a minute his head had been reduced to a bloody mess. Blood and gore covered Rupert’s arm and torso and already he began to grow.

            Officer Twig stared up in disbelief. His thin body shook in horror. He began to scream a the top of his lungs. “Heeelp! Officer down! Heeelp!”

            Evan grabbed his mouth. “Shut up. If you thought anyone could hear you, you would have screamed before. You know you’re isolated, way at this end of the property. Why do you think we started with you?”

            When Evan let go of him, the annoying runt of an officer began screaming again. The massive twin used two of his sausage thick fingers to crush the puny cop’s voice box. “That ought to shut you up. Now, before you suffocate, let’s get you up close and personal with these pecs.”

            Evan flexed his thick chest, squeezing the pectorals together, forming a cleavage several inches deep. Each pec was larger than the officer’s entire head. He slammed Officer Twig’s head into the rock-solid pecs so hard, it broke his nose. The huge slabs of meat engulfed the suffocating officer’s face. Evan continued to flex and squeeze as the officer struck his body with ever weakening blows. When the Officer was limp and lifeless, Evan let his bloody, mangled face fall away from his chest. He closed his eyes and smiled as his muscle swelled with new size.

            When the wave of growth finished, Evan opened his eyes to see his brother picking up one of the police walkies. Rupert turned to him and grinned as he pressed the PTT button.

[musclegin30]

Chapter 3 

            Patrick drove his silver Lexus down Glen Drive, his heart pounded like a drum. It had been a long time since he had seen his brother or his nephews, and he wasn’t expecting a warm reception. As he accelerated down the final stretch, he noticed the flashing lights of the cop cars, long before he saw the manor’s high wall. What in the hell was going on?

            He pulled his car up to the gate, passing several parked cop cars, and saw two uniformed police officers standing guard. One held his hand up, commanding Patrick to stop, as if he hadn’t planned to do that already. Patrick rolled his window down as the officers stepped toward his car one on one side and one on the other. Both held flashlights, with their free hands resting on their sidearms.

            “Good evening, sir,” said the officer who had come to the driver’s side. He shined his flashlight into the vehicle, while his partner peered through the other windows. Patrick immediately turned on the ceiling light, illuminating the inside of the car. “Can we help you with something?”

            “What happened here, officer?” Patrick asked, his hands held firmly on the steering wheel.

            “Do you live here?” asked the officer.

            “My brother does.”

            “ID, please,” said the officer.

            Patrick handed him his driver’s license. The officer looked at it briefly, then back at Patrick. “Glencross,” the officer mumbled. He shared a look with his partner.

            “Excuse me,” Patrick said. “But could one of you tell me what happened here.”

            “I’m sorry Mr. Glencross.” The officer handed him back his license. “Your brother is dead.”

            Patrick felt shock, at first. Dead? Had he heard that right? Then sadness crept in. That was his brother, after all. They had once shared happy memories. Then he felt relief. The man his brother had become after his 18^th birthday was not a man who should be mourned. Thank God that wicked man was gone. 

            “And my nephews!?”

            “We can’t answer that,” said the officer.

            “But I’m family-”

            “We can’t answer, because we don’t know.”

            Patrick frowned and squeezed the steering wheel. Regardless of the state of his family, he still had a task to complete. “I need to go in.”

            “That won’t be possible. This is an active crime scene, Mr. Glencross. The best thing you can do is go home, mourn your loss, and thank God you weren’t here.”

            “Many people were killed here today,” Patrick said. “I know that. And I know why they were killed. If my nephews are still alive, it will continue. I need to speak with the lead Detective!”

            “Lower your voice,” The officer intoned.

            “Now,” Patrick replied, in a firm, but low voice. “And I’m not leaving until I do.”

            He left his car parked outside the gate and was led toward his childhood home by the two officers. It looked different, and not because of the fire damage. It looked smaller than he remembered, less like the grand castle of his youth and more like a ridiculous movie set. Was it even real? Was this house, with its oversized columns and hideous statues, the place where he grew up?

            “Wait right here,” one of the officer’s said to him. Here was beside a black Lincoln sedan. “You keep an eye on him,” the officer said to his partner, who nodded.

            Patrick stood in silence, waiting. The officer tasked with watching him made no attempts at conversation and Patrick returned the favor. After a moment he caught site of a middle-aged dirty blonde heading towards him with crow's feet and a light grey jacket flapping about her waist. She was accompanied by a balding man in a black jacket, who looked too young to be as bald as he was.

            “Good evening, I’m Detective Jean Morgan and this is Detective Owen Lerner,” the woman said. Patrick shook both of their clammy hands. “You are the brother of the deceased Lawrence Glencross?”

            “I am.”

            “I’m sorry for your loss,” Det. Morgan said. Lerner echoed the sentiment.

            “I’m not,” Patrick said. “Whatever happened to my brother, I’m sure he deserved it.”

            The two detectives shared a shocked look.

            “Excuse, I’m sorry,” Patrick said. “It’s just…my brother wasn’t a good man and any deaths that occurred here tonight were his doing. Not directly…but…damn! I’m sorry I’m rambling.”

            “Calm down, Mr. Glencross,” Det. Morgan said. “Why don’t you start by telling us why you came here tonight.”

            “My nephews. Did you find my nephews’ bodies?”

            The detectives shared another look.

            “You didn’t, did you? They’re not dead, then.” Patrick shook his head.

            “That seems to worry you.” Det. Lerner said, in a suspicious tone. “Why? What if they aren’t dead?”

            “If they aren’t dead, then this isn’t over.”

            “Mr. Glencross,” Det. Morgan said, “In clear, simple, and honest terms tell us what you know about what happened here tonight.”

            Patrick took a deep breath. He hadn’t intended to be talking to the police tonight. He had often thought about what he would say to someone if he had to tell them about his family’s secret, about the demon, the book, the killing induced growth, the legacy of horror in that blood-soaked manor. Yes, he had many years to think of what to say and he did just that. Still, it sounded no less crazy when said aloud. The detectives stared at him, blankly, for much of it. Det. Lerner had an annoyed expression on his face by the end, like his time had just been wasted. The female detective was harder for Patrick to read. She had started out nodding like an interested listener, but quickly grew impassive and remained that way until Patrick was done.

            “…and that’s why I came here tonight, to destroy the demon’s book, so no one in my family could join that evil pact ever again,” Patrick said. “But right now, my goal is to help you stop my nephews. Their father is dead, and I bet they killed him. If that’s the case, they’ve gone over the edge, consumed by the evil. They’re not going to try to hide it anymore. They’re not going to try to live normal lives. This is the last night of growth they have left and they’re going to make it count. I bet some of your officers are dead already. And the more they kill, the bigger and stronger they will become. We have to stop them, asap!”

            “Jesus!” Lerner exclaimed. “Are you on something, buddy?”

            “I’m not on anything and I’m not crazy,” Patrick said with a frown.

            “And yet everything you just told us was crazy,” Det. Morgan said.

            “I’m aware it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. Why would I come here and makeup a story like that?”

            “Why, indeed?” Det. Lerner frowned.

            “I believe that you believe everything you just said,” Det. Morgan said. “And I believe there might be a nugget of truth buried beneath the supernatural bullshit. I’m going to find that nugget. We’re going to send-”

            She stopped speaking when a voice came over her walkie. A voice she clearly didn’t recognize. She frowned, an expression mirrored by her partner, and listened intently to the message being sent out to every police walkie on the property.

               “Good evening pigs,” The deep, cocky voice began. “My name is Rupert Glengross. I’m here with my brother, Evan. You’ve already seen our handiwork. Today is our birthday. Wooohooo! The big 21! And for our birthday we want to grow as big as possible. Absolute muscle freaks. We’re already pretty freaky, having added close to 100 pounds of muscle to our frames already today, but that’s not enough. We need more. And that’s where you come in, pigs. Every time we kill one of you, we grow bigger. Spoiler alert: we already killed 2 of you, heeehaahaa! Let’s play a game. We’ll try to kill all of you before midnight, and you’ll give everything you’ve got to stop us. Let the fun begin!”

            Morgan and Lerner shared a concerned look, then turned to Patrick.

            “I hate to say I told you so,” Patrick said.

[MrAlice]

Couldn’t even make it past the intro of the brothers without blasting lol. I’m gonna work my way through this bit by bit lol

[musclegin30]

Chapter 4

            “What the fuck!?” Francis O’ Connor, one of the CSI team said out loud. He bounced up to his feet. He had just finished giving a tour of the crime scene to the lead detectives, moments ago. Now he was off alone canvassing an area for clues. Why was he alone? He always did that to himself. Wandering off. He looked around at the deserted part of the estate, he had wandered to. It was near the woods. Was that message real? Was it some kind of joke? Were two officers already killed? He began to sweat, despite the cool night air, as he pointed his flashlight in every direction.

            “No one,” he whispered to himself. That was a good thing and a bad thing. On the one hand, it meant the guys who sent that message weren’t around. On the other hand, it meant he had no back up if they showed up. Francis thought about announcing his location over the walkie, so he could call some backup to his location, but if he did that, he’d be announcing his location to the killers too! What to do? Stay put and hide or move? He decided to head for the manor. It stood far ahead in the distance, with a halo of flashing red and blue light. “I just have to make it to the base of operations at the front of the house, so I can figure out what the fuck is going on.”

            He set off at a jog. As he did so, he thought about how he wasn’t cut out for this shit. He wasn’t a physical guy. He was cerebral. He didn’t even carry a weapon. The crimes were supposed to be over by the time he showed up, and he was supposed to be safe!

            STOMP! STOMP!

            “What the-” Francis turned to his right, to see what could only be described as a colossus running towards him, like a football player running to make a tackle. Except this football player was naked from head to toe and as lean as a competition ready bodyduilder.

            “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!” He sped up as fast as his little legs could go.

            STOMP! STOMP!

            Francis turned to his left. Oh God, another one. Just as big! “Heeelp!” Francis called out, but was immediately silenced by the hardest hit he had ever received. It felt like a car had struck him in the side, hurling him ten feet, into a wall. But it wasn’t a wall he struck. No. It was an impossibly large body, wide and thick with solid muscle. Solid, in an unnatural way. Francis looked up at the second colossus and thought muscle shouldn’t be that hard and no one should be that size.

            He tried to crawl, but felt sharp pain in his right arm and right leg. Some things were broken. Francis lay on his back and stared up at the two men who looked more like gods. He knew instantly that they were the Glencross twins, the monsters that had caused all of the carnage. He saw evil in their handsome faces as they stare down at him. What a pathetic sight he must have been to them. One of their legs was as thick as his waist. Was killing him even worth their time? He hoped not. Hopefully they would see how pathetic he was and have mercy. He wouldn’t put up a fight. What could he do against their inhuman power and size.

            “This one isn’t even a cop,” One twin said to the other. “No weapon, or nothing.”

            “Such a pathetic excuse for a man. He’s like an insect.” Said the other.

            Yes, yes. Francis nodded. I’m like an insect. Not worth your time. Ignore me. Move on to better prey. 

            He was frozen with fear. All he could muster was a feeble “Please,” as tears rolled down his cheek. His voice was like the squeak of a mouse.

            “Insects get squashed,” said one twin.

            The two brothers each lifted up one huge foot. Francis trembled and soiled himself as the colossal feet came crashing down to flatten him.

            STOMP! CRUNCH! STOMP! CRUNCH!

[musclegin30]

Chapter 5

             Officer Sean Henderson came running alongside the manor wall, his heavy pecs bouncing beneath his uniform with each step. Vincent was close behind. He saw detectives Morgan and Lerner talking with a civilian and darted towards them.

            “What the hell was that?” Sean asked, when he reached the detectives. He was panting and made a mental note that he needed to work on his cardio.

            “That was my nephews,” the civilian said, before Det. Morgan could even open her mouth.

            “And you are?” Sean looked down at the fit, middle-aged man.

            “Patrick Glencross.”

            “You live here?”

            “Thank God, no.”

            “Is what was said over the radio confirmed?” Vincent asked, “Are officers down?”

            “Nothing is confirmed,” Lerner said.

            “But we know those were the killers?” Vincent said. “They are still here?”

            “It looks that way,” Morgan said, tapping away at her phone. “Just stay calm. I’m calling the station. Hello, give me the chief…”

            “My nephews are alive, officers,” Patrick said. “And they need to be put down. They are killers and the more they kill, the-”

            “Alright!” Lerner held up his hand. “Let’s not start with that.” He looked at Sean, pointed a finger to the side of his head and spun it in a circle, the universal sign for crazy.

            “I’m not crazy,” Patrick said, “Nor am I blind.”

            “Did you guys hear that?” Came a deep voice from behind. Sean turned to find Officer Travis Purdie walking up behind him. Travis was black with a thick beard, always immaculately trimmed. He was the only other guy on the force who could give Sean a run for his money in the size department. Travis’ uniform was stretched to the limits with thick full muscle, that he claimed was all natural, though Sean had his doubts.

            “We heard,” Sean said. “Crazy right?”

            Travis nodded, as two more officers showed up, Davenport and Carter.”

            “Travis, thank god.” Jean said, as she put her phone away. “You and Sean are my A-team right now. If these boys are as big as it sounds like they are, we’re going to need some serious muscle to bring them in.”

            “Doesn’t take much muscle to fire a bullet to the head,” said the mustachioed Davenport. “I mean, let’s be serious, if they’re really cop killers we’re not planning on taking them in alive, are we?”

            “I’m with Davenport on that,” Travis said.

            “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Jean rolled her eyes. “All I’ll say is, they want us dead, so if it comes down to your life or theirs, you know what to do.”

            Potbellied, Officer Carter nodded. “We know what to fucking do.” He shared a knowing glance with Davenport.

 Sean looked down at his comrade and shook his head. Carter had let himself go in recent years. He used to be fit like a runner, now, while most of him remained thin, his gut protruded like a melon under his shirt. Sean hated seeing out of shape cops. If he had his way all officers would be huge, muscular, and fit, the perfect protectors, able to make criminals shit their pants with just a flex.

“The chief is aware of the situation,” Det. Morgan said. “But I don’t think we’re getting any backup. What we have is what we’ve got. But I think we have enough. There’s only two of them.”

“I pray you have enough,” Patrick said grimly.

Sean scoffed. “Just how tough do you think your nephews are?”

“You are not dealing with two college aged bodybuilders!” Patrick said. “You are dealing with the supernatural. Pure evil!”

“Oh, for fuck sake.” Lerner facepalmed. “Will you shut up with that supernatural bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?” Travis asked.

“Yeah, I want to hear this,” said Davenport.

Det. Morgan placed a hand on Lerner’s shoulder. “Just let him say what he has to say.” She turned to Patrick. “But make it quick.”

Sean could hardly believe what he was hearing. It sounded like pure fantasy. Pacts with demons, murder rituals, growing from killing. He’d have written it off as the ramblings of a lunatic if Patrick Glencross didn’t sound so sure and convincing. His cock got a little hard at the thought of it, though. The story reminded him of a fantasy he had as a rookie. He had often thought about what it would be like to be a Punisher type character, singlehandedly cleaning up the streets of all criminals. Using his muscles and superior strength to make them beg before crushing the life out of those degenerates. And how cool would it be it with every kill, he grew bigger and stronger, as a reward for making the streets a safer place?

            When Patrick was done speaking the officers who had heard it for the first time looked at each other in stunned silence.

            “Are you buying this crap, Jean?” Travis asked, finally.

            “I don’t buy anything I can’t prove,” Jean Morgan said. “And I don’t discount anything I can’t disprove. Whatever the truth is, I do know that this is no ordinary murder case, and these are no ordinary murderers.”

            “What’s the plan?” Sean asked, standing up straight and puffing out his chest, ready for work.

            “We need overwhelming force to take these guys down, and the safety of numbers, so forget pairs and partners,” Det. Morgan said. Sean and Vincent shared a look. “We’ll have two teams of equal strength. One will comb the east side of the estate. The other, the west. We’re lucky because we won’t have to chase these guys. They want to kill us, so they’ll stick around. All were have to do is strike…” she hit a fist into an open palm, “when they rear their heads.”

            “And what are the teams?” Davenport asked, hands on his hips.

            “Each team gets muscle. Sean on one. Travis on the other. Every team get a sharpshooter. Davenport and Carter, you two always score at the top at the shooting range. One on one team, one on the other.”

            Jean nodded at each in turn and continued, “Each team gets a detective. I’ll go with Travis. Owen with Sean. That just leaves Amato and Mr. Glencross.”

            “I’ll take Amato,” Sean said, quickly. Jean nodded her approval.

            “Hold it. You’re not thinking about letting a civilian go out there?” Davenport asked.

            “I was raised here,” Patrick said, “I know these grounds.”

            “He’s coming with my team, Davenport,” Jean said. “You’re with Sean.”

            “And the two guys way down by the gate?” Sean asked.

            “I'll tell them to stay by the gate. In case anybody else shows up,” She glanced at Patrick.

            Patrick held his hands up and shook his head. “Don’t look at me, detective. I’m not expecting anyone.”

            “Now let’s go!” Jean slammed her palms together.

[Ro20316]

Patrick has a lot of work to do if he gets a chance to be close to the book.

Im expectinga twist. Patrick had been aside so much time i bet he is plotting something.

Poor guys go in there alone they dont know what to expect

[MrAlice]

This story is just as good as I was hoping a continuation of this would be!!

[musclegin30]

1 hour ago, MrAlice said:

This story is just as good as I was hoping a continuation of this would be!!

Glad you're enjoying it.

[musclegin30]

Chapter 6

 

            Jean set off with her team, Travis, Patrick, and Carter, to comb the West side of the Estate.

            “Any ideas, Glencross?” Jean asked. “Where your nephews might be.”

            “No,” Patrick said. “But I’m sure they’ll be together. We find one, we find them both.”

            “Where’s the CSU guys?” Travis asked. “It’s awfully quiet.”

            THUD!

            The group turned, guns aimed in the direction of the noise.

            “The fuck was that!?” Carter exclaimed.

            Jeaned aimed a flashlight at the ground and frowned. A severed head stared blankly from the grass.

            “That’s our answer,” Jean said grimly, “for at least one of them.” She recognized the head, immediately, though battered, bruised, and bloody. Francis O’Connor, the crime scene investigator who had given her and Lerner the initial tour of the crime scene.

            “I’d say it came from the hedges over there,” Travis said. “That’s part of the maze, isn’t it?”

            “Those sadistic bastards. They’re toying with us,” said Patrick. “Trying to make us uneasy.”

            “If they’re in the maze, let’s go get them,” Carter said, stomping off in the direction of the hedges.

            “No!” Patrick shouted. “That’s what they’ll want you to do. The maze is their domain. We’re better off out here. Make them come to us.”

            “And wait around for someone else to die?” Carter said, backing away from the group, easing ever closer to the maze. “Fuck that! Travis, Jean, you’re with me, right? Or do you two want to stand around-”

            Carter’s words were cut short as the ground beneath him gave way. He fell into the hole, dropping his gun and screaming. Jean rushed forward, flanked by Patrick and Travis. “Carter!” she screamed as she watched her colleague clawing and grasping at the dirt and grass as some unseen force pulled him deep under.

            “What the-” Travis said, aiming his gun into the dark hole.

            “The tunnels from below the maze,” Patrick said. “They extend out beyond its perimeter. We need to back up. We’re too close.”

            Jean was crouched down, on all fours. She looked in to the tunnel. “I can’t see him!”

            “And you never will again,” Patrick said. He extended a hand and helped the detective to her feet.

***

 

            Carter groaned in agony as he was pulled through the dark tunnel. He blinked rapidly, trying to get the dirt from his eyes. “Fuuck!” he wailed. It felt like an iron vise had a hold of his ankles and someone was tightening the mouth. He thought his ankle bones would snap any second. Whatever, or whoever had him was strong as hell!

            “Perfect!” Carter heard a deep, booming voice say. “Now we’ve got some room to stretch out.”

            They had stopped moving and whatever had held him let go. Now Carter lay on the ground in the dark, scared to move.

            “Yeah, bro,” another equally deep voice said. “We’re getting way too big for these tunnels, hehee. Good thing for this opening.”

           A light flickered on and Carter got to see who he assumed were the Glencross twins for the first time. He had seen pro wrestlers, strongmen, bodybuilders, and football players in his life, but none of them compared to the two mammoth men standing before him. Their heads looked tiny on their oversized bodies; necks completely consumed buy mountainous traps; pecs so thick, he was sure they couldn’t look down and see their own cocks (as humungous as those rods were); arms that looked more like legs; and legs as thick as some men’s bodies. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Every inch of their nude, gargantuan frames was striated and covered with a grotesque network of bulging veins. They didn’t look human. They couldn’t be human. They were monsters. Muscle monsters. And they had sadistic looks of pure evil plastered across their hyper-masculine faces.

            “Hey officer PeeWee,” one of the monsters said. “Have you ever seen anything like us.” He flexed, exploding with size. His brother joined in. They grew hard as they grunted, showing off their unbelievable bodies. Each cock must have been over 14 inches. Carter felt his own cock rising, pitching a tent in his navy-blue pants. He was about to die. He knew it, but why was he getting hard, looking at this grotesque display of overdeveloped muscles?

            “We’re so fucking big,” one of the brothers said, “And when we kill you, we’ll get even bigger. Isn’t that amazing? We’re already probably, no, definitely, the most muscular men on the planet and we’re going to get even bigger! It makes me want to blow a fucking huge load.”

           “I think he can help with that, bro.” said the other brother, while stroking his long shaft.

          “Take this huge fucking cock!” one of the brothers commanded, and before Officer Carter could blink his head was grabbed by a massive bear paw of a hand and forced onto the beer can thick shaft of the hardest and longest cock in the world. He was forced to deep throat the colossal member with such speed and force that he felt something tear in the back of his throat.

          “Oooh, that feels so fucking good, the muscle giant said as he used Carter’s mouth like his own personal sex toy. He rammed Carter’s face into his pubic region with such force, his nose broke against the beast’s lower abs. Carter instinctively tried to resist, but striking his attacker’s body was like hitting a brick wall. He was powerless and weak, a mere toy for the sadistic pleasure of these psycho twins.

          “Give me a go!” Carter felt himself spun around and the other twin’s cock rammed into his mouth, his front teeth knocked out by the iron shaft. “Come on, take this cock pig!”

           His jaw was being dislocated, and his throat torn. Back and forth he went, being forced from one cock to the other, with such speed, that he got whiplash. He wondered if his neck would break before the muscle beasts blew their loads. Then, as if he had read his mind, one of the twins announced, “I’m getting ready to blow!”

          “Me too!” announced the other as Carter was spun from one blood and saliva covered cock to the other. Then he felt it. A blast of cum so forceful it might have blown his head back had the sadistic twin not been holding it in place. Carter gagged and choked, his lungs filling with cum and blood. When both brothers had filled him with what felt like a half gallon of cum, he fell back to the ground, suffocating, as the world went dark.