Description Hunter has dedicated his life to tracking and neutralizing the hundreds of huge-growing hulks that have been terrorizing small towns for twenty years now, and he’s damn good at what he does. But when he gets to his latest sighting, he finds things aren’t going the way they usually do.
|Updated||22 Sep 2018|
I pulled my car to the curb as the headlights illuminated a scene I’ve seen far too many times before: the main street of a small Midwestern town – demolished.
The acrid smell of smoke hit me immediately as I got out of my car and I could see one or two fires that the fire department was still putting out.
There were huge craters and steaming crevices opening up all up and down the street. Cars flipped on their sides, on their backs, or smashed to hell and scattered in pieces across the entire area. There was even a Ford sticking half way out of a building’s shattered second story wall. Hmmm… that was a calling card. I’d seen it before. This thing had a Hard Rock Café fetish.
Most of these buildings were seriously damaged with huge gaping holes in the side. Some of them had been completely demolished. Powerlines were down and sparking. And of course, there was the usual scattering of dazed and bewildered people wondering the streets. I did a quick survey of them to see if any of them were naked or near naked. That was always a give-away, but no such luck.
I did a second pass to see if any of them looked nervous our guilty. Again, I came up empty. I guess I’d have to do this one the hard way.
The harsh flashing of red and blue emergency lights lit up the street. I made my way to one of the cop cars and quickly identified the man I was looking for.
“You the sheriff?” I asked, getting the man’s attention.
“Yeah,” he said, looking me up and down and giving me the standard lawman’s appraisal. He was a middle aged man, tall with a big frame and surprisingly still in good shape. Usually, the small town law men let themselves go and developed doughnut guts, but this guy had managed to avoid that fate, filling out his tight fitting uniform nicely.
“You the guy?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, producing my ID card. “I’m the guy.”
The sheriff took it, looked it over and handed it back to me. “A Hunter, hunh? I hope you can help us,” he said. “We’re not used to this kind of thing around here.”
“Sheriff,” I said. “They’re not used to this kind of thing anywhere.” I looked around at the professional efficiency of the local emergency response team. “Still, your people seem to have things well in hand.”
“They’re accustomed to tornados,” said the sheriff. “But this is a little different.”
I looked back out at the scene. Yeah, the destruction here could have easily been caused by a tornado. But it wasn’t.
“Anyone killed?” I asked.
“Not that we’ve found,” he said, “but we’re still surveying the damage.”
“Any witnesses?” I asked.
“Plenty,” said the sheriff. “Where would you like to start?”
I’ve had a lot of experience interviewing dazed people. The challenge is to keep them on topic and ease up before they get hysterical. And they tended to get hysterical. But as the interviews progressed, I got pretty much what I was expecting: descriptions of a massively muscled green giant 8 to 12 feet in height, with a stomach like a cinderblock wall, gigantic, striated, globular pecs, biceps carved, veiny and maybe 60 inches around, impossibly thick neck with mountainous traps and colossal shoulders, a back wide as a building and made from enormous concreate slabs of muscle, and a pair of legs like bulging twin muscle pylons. This thing tore through buildings like they were paper, picked up and tossed cars like they were Matchboxes, and pounded huge craters into the street with just his fists.
No one had seen where it’d come from and no one had seen where it had gone. Typical. And that’s the problem: It was typical. And this time, I wasn’t looking for typical.
“Did you see it, sheriff?” I asked.
“No sir,” he replied.
“Too bad,” I said. It was always helpful to get a description from someone who was trained to make quick and accurate observations, the way law enforcement officers were. The civilians were describing a creature 8 to 12 feet in height. But these people were unable to judge size accurately, and often, the size of these hulks got magnified by fear.
Now most of your hulks were 8 or 9 feet tall, weighing somewhere between 1 and 2 tons. Once in a while you’d get one as big as 10 feet, but that was very rare. Lately we’d been hearing rumors of an uber hulk, 12 feet tall and more massively muscled than anything on record—4, maybe 5 tons. If this were true, it meant that the hulks might be continuing to mutate. There was even the chance that they’d found some way to make themselves bigger and even more impossibly jacked. That would be bad. So, we needed to know if this was just a rumor or if there was any truth behind it.
But as the interviews continued, all I got were height estimates in the 8 to 12 foot range, completely unhelpful.
“I don’t get it,” said the sheriff after our last interview. “How do you stop a thing like that?”
“You don’t,” I said. “You see one; you run and hide. Don’t come out ‘til they’re human again.”
“Now, that’s where I have a hard time with this,” said the sheriff. “You’re saying these things are sometimes human?”
“Most of the time,” I said. “That’s how they hide.”
“And they just get huge and green whenever they’re pissed off?” he asked.
“Yes and no,” I said. “It’s easier if you think about it like shouting.”
“Sure, you can shout whenever you want, right? But you don’t. Sometimes you do when you want to be heard a distance away, or you want to get someone’s attention, but most of the time you just use a normal conversational tone. But when you get mad, you just start shouting automatically. You don’t even think about it. It’s kinda like that.”
“You been doing this a long time?” he asked.
“20 years,” I said, “since The Event.”
“Yeah,” said the sheriff. “What happened there?”
“Small town, like this one, accidental catastrophic Gamma Radiation exposure and… ta-da, thousands of these things running loose in the countryside.”
“Everybody in the town?” asked the sheriff.
“Yup, every man, woman and child.”
“You mean there are women things like that?”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “But you wouldn’t know they were women by sight. When they change, any boobs they had are completely overwhelmed by massive, shredded, pectoral muscles. Their larynxes expand and their voices drop about 5 octaves. The only way you could really tell is to pull down their pants… and I really wouldn’t advise that.”
“Well, The Event was 20 years ago. They’re not kids anymore. But back in the day, they were still pretty dangerous. I once saw a toddler shoot up to 5’ 4” and grow biceps big as your head. He picked up an SUV and hurled it at me.”
“What about… their kids?”
“They can’t have kids. Gama irradiated sperm eradicates eggs and vice-versa. They’re essentially sterile.”
“So there are thousands of these things running around?”
“Not nearly so many these days. I’ve caught 523, myself, and there are dozens of us out there hunting. But, you know, all modesty aside, I’m the best.”
“Well, we’re certainly glad to have you with us. You let me know if there’s anything we can do to assist.”
“Actually, there is. Most of the time, these guys are loners, living off somewhere by themselves. Usually, they move around a lot. So, if you’ve got anyone new in town who fits that description, or maybe a vagrant?”
I was just hunting a vagrant hulk out on highway 12. But he hitched a ride with some trucker and I lost him. But, I’d get him eventually. I always did.
“Anyone like that…?”
“Not that I can think of offhand, but I’ll ask around,” he said.
“You do that, sheriff,” I said. The man tipped his hat and walked away.
That was ridiculous; every town had someone like that, every single one! So, why is the sheriff holding out on me? I mentally added the sheriff to my persons of interest list. You could never be too careful, never.
I had one guy who lived in a small town for a decade without incident. Then one day something happened and he just let loose in a bar right in front of all his buddies. He nearly doubled in height and exploded into about a ton and a half of mountainous, chiseled muscle, writhing beneath paper thin green skin. Roaring and gloating over his impossible mass and power, he proceeded to put several of his “buddies” through the wall and then to take apart half the town.
The guy felt sorry in the end, though. Actually turned himself in. Hard to take credit for that one. But, you know, I did.
For these people, the temptation to change is always too much. All that muscle and power raging just under the skin is ultimately impossible to resist, gets them every time. And that’s when I get them.
I began to inspect the area, looking for anything that might give me a clue as to where it started where my guy blew his gasket, muscle exploded right through his clothes and began tearing apart the town. No place really seemed any more likely than another. But I did notice one or two puzzling things.
With hulks, you got your pounders and your hurlers. Your pounders like smashing things up with their fists; nothing they like better than ripping apart a building with their obscenely muscled arms and their giant, bare, power shovel-like hands.
Your hurlers like throwing things, the bigger the better. Their massive backs heaving with tectonic plates of muscle as they hoist a car or a pickup over their heads and let it fly right through the local post office, annihilating both vehicle and building.
Don’t get me wrong; they all did both. But each hulk seemed to favor one or the other. But in this case, there appeared to be plenty of both pounding and hurling. Hulks almost never mixed. I guess it was because they liked being the biggest, baddest thing around and didn’t want any serious competition. But in this case, could I be dealing with two beasts?
I’d run into two hulks only once before, not something I’d like to repeat. The creatures leveled an entire town trying to prove which one was bigger and stronger. Got them both in the end, though.
And then I saw it, the gas station.
There was a demolished building on the right side of it and one on the left side, but the station with its minimart was untouched. My first thought was, “Lucky thing, if those tanks had blown, it could have taken out the whole block.” But then I thought, “Maybe it’s not luck at all. Maybe that place was spared for a reason. Even the lights were on… and hell, it was open for business!”
I moseyed on over there and in through the small store’s open glass door. The bright florescent lights over lit the place, making me squint and giving my cranium notice that a headache was on the way.
The store was pretty much like every minimart you’ve ever seen, completely ordinary. Shelves lined with junk food, pain killers and magazines; there was no indication as to why it might have been spared by the titanic raging muscle beast who had destroyed the rest of the street.
A couple of emergency workers were lined up at the cash register buying coffee and snacks from the teenage cashier. Other than that, the place was empty.
When the Emergency Workers left, I walked up to the kid at the register. He was about 5’ 8”, thin as a rail and needed a haircut. He had a boyish face that made him look too young to be working there. He was letting his side burns climb down his round cheeks and trying to grow a Van Dyke – looked pretty scraggly. The kid was obviously trying to look older than he was; a boy apparently frustrated by the slow pace of his burgeoning masculinity.
He looked up and smiled as I approached. Dazzling blue eyes and a killer smile, if he added a little beef to his frame, he’d be a real knockout. I peered at the name tag on his shirt. “Ollie,” it said.
“See the show, Ollie?” I asked.
“Hunh?” he asked.
“Did you see what happened? Outside. All the damage?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” he said. “Most fucked up thing I ever saw. The size of that dude and his fucking enormous-ass muscles… And he just kept roaring and throwing cars at buildings and there were explosions and fuck…!”
Hmm, the sheriff didn’t put this kid on his witness list, another red flag.
“Lucky he missed this place,” I said.
“I guess,” he said.
“Well, if he’d smashed it up, I wouldn’t have to work tonight,” he said, smiling sheepishly.
God, that smile…
“You often work the night shift?” I asked. “How old are you?”
“I’m old enough,” he said. “I’m 18.”
“You got ID?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said pulling out his nylon and Velcro wallet and handing me his drivers license. I looked it over carefully. Yup, it was genuine. I checked the birth date. This kid was actually 18. No wonder he was trying to grow a beard. With that pretty baby face, he hardly looked 16. But I had to check anyway. I’d seen guys who looked this young who were actually over 20, and if he were over 20, he’d definitely be on my list.
“Hey, are you a cop?” he asked.
“No, I’m not a cop, kid,” I said, handing him back is license, “but I’m helping them.”
“Helping them?” he said. “What? Find the giant green muscle guy?” The kid cracked a smile.
“Yeah,” I said. “What’s funny?”
“Mister, that guy had massive carved biceps the size of truck tires. You go against him and you’re gonna wind up a stain on the bottom of his giant, green foot.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said. “No wonder your boss has you working nights.”
“Oh, I don’t usually work nights, because we’re usually not open nights. Just, you know, all the shit going on. My boss, Mr. Gunderson, thought we’d make a killing on coffee and doughnuts – you know, all the cops.”
“Your boss, this Gunderson, you see him tonight?”
“Nah, he just called and asked me to keep the place open.”
“You see him a lot?”
“No, he kinda keeps to himself. It’s one of the best things about this job.”
And the kid didn’t think that was a little strange? Well, at least the boy still had his looks.
“Does he live near here?”
“He’s got a place just outside of town, lives there alone.”
The only undamaged business on the street and it’s owned by a loner. It was perfect, a little too perfect. I began to smell a trap. It wouldn’t be the first time one of these things had tried to set me up.
“Are you being straight with me, kid?” I asked, looking him in the eye and trying to read him.
“Whaddaya mean? Yeah… course, I am,” he said, but those sparkling blues of his were darting around a little too much.
I wasn’t buying it. There was something about this kid. He was definitely hiding something.
“It’s got some kind of hold on you,” I said. “A hostage, is that it? Maybe a girlfriend or a relative?”
The kid looked terrified and glanced up. I followed his gaze. Damn, a surveillance camera. I should have thought of that. This whole thing had been on hulk TV. I pulled out my gun and shot the lens out.
“Come on, kid,” I said, “we gotta get outta here.”
“But… but…,” he said.
“No buts,” I said. “It’s gonna assume you told me everything, and it’s gonna be coming! We gotta go. Now!”
I grabbed the kid and dragged him bodily from the store.
We ran a couple of blocks and then ducked into an alley way and hid behind some rubble. The kid was nearly in tears. “My ma!” he said.
“You’re what?” I asked.
“My ma,” he said. “The massive green muscle guy’s got my ma. And now he’s gonna squish her. That’s what he said; he said he’d squish her!”
“What else did he say? What were you supposed to tell me?” I grilled him.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you nothing,” said the kid. “I was just supposed to get you to go out to Gunderson’s.”
“Why? What was going to happen there?”
“I don’t know. I was just supposed to get you to go there, and now my ma…” the kid trailed off as the ground shook and we heard an earthshaking thud. The thing had arrived at the minimart. I pulled the kid down into the shadows behind the rubble. We head the sound of smashing glass and metal followed by a bellowing roar, probably as the thing discovered we’d gone.
“It’s gonna come lookin’,” said the kid. “What do we do? It’s gonna come lookin’.”
“Don’t worry, kid,” I said softly. “These things are great at smash and grab, not so good at hide and seek. We’ll just stay here quietly for a while, until it goes.”
We peeked up over the rubble pile and saw the thing. It was massive, but just an 8-footer, not my Uber. No matter, it still had to be stopped.
The impossibly muscled behemoth was stomping around overturning cars and dumpsters, with just the slightest effort of its massive, corded forearm, just a flick of its giant green wrist. And letting out the occasional bellow of frustration.
Stealth was just not an option for these guys. We shank back into the shadows.
“Hey, what do I call you?” asked the kid.
“I’m a hunter, kid. Best if you just call me Hunter. It’s too easy to track a man by his name these days, and I’d just as soon no one tracked me.”
“Hunter, that thing scares the shit out of me,” said the kid. “My stomach… I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Hold it together, kid,” I said. “Or you’re gonna be useless to me.”
“I’m not useless,” he said, “just a little scared.”
Fuck, looked like I hit a nerve. I’m not too good with Millennials. Another bellowing roar.
“He’s probably not scared of anything,” said the kid.
“He’s afraid of me.”
“Then why aren’t you out there looking for him, instead of him looking for us?”
“Because I meet these things on my terms, in a place and time of my choosing, not theirs.”
We head another roar and a tremendous crash. The thing probably tossed one of those dumpsters through a building. They usually did that kind of thing when they got frustrated.
“But, don’t worry,” I said. “This one’s not really serious about finding us.”
“It sounds pretty fucking serious to me!” he said.
“No, I had one destroy an entire city block trying to flush me out… or crush me beneath the rubble.”
“No shit. How did you stop it?”
“The same way I always do, kid, by using my head.”
“You mean they’re stupid?”
“No, not stupid. They just think with their muscles.”
“They think with their muscles? That just sounds like another way of saying they’re stupid.”
“No, kid, it just means they think their muscles are the answer to everything.”
“And muscles like that? They’re not…?”
The kid looked scared. I obviously wasn’t convincing him.
“Don’t worry, kid; we’ll get through this.”
But I kept thinking about what I’d said to the kid. This hulk really wasn’t serious about finding us. Why not? Why wasn’t he tearing these buildings to pieces looking? I looked down at the crouching kid. Was he the answer?
“How well do you know this thing?” I asked.
“I don’t know him at all,” said the kid. “He just grabbed my ma and started giving me orders.”
“Did you know him when he was human?” I asked.
“Human? That thing’s not human!” he said.
“Not now,” I said, “But I’m beginning to think he knows you. Maybe he’s sweet on you.”
“What?” said the kid. “Fuck no!”
“Well,” I said. “You are kinda pretty.”
“Fuck you!” he said. “You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?’
“Kid, I am hot shit. I’ve stopped hundreds of these things. They may seem like impossibly powerful and unstoppable creatures, but by the time I’m done with them, they’re whiny, sniveling little bitches.”
I put my finger to my lips, shushing the kid and we sat there for a moment listening to the silence.
“I think it’s gone for now,” I said. “It should be safe to go out.”
“What do we do?” he asked.
“We’ll get your ma, kid,” I said patting him on the back. “Know where he’s got her?”
The kid nodded. “Warehouse, ass end of town.”
“Show me,” I said.
I wasn’t convinced I wasn’t still heading into a trap, but one way or another I was going to get this beast. And if I kept my wits about me, I should still be ok.
We made our way stealthily through the back streets and alleyways toward this warehouse.
“I don’t know what I’d do, if I ever lost Ma,” said the kid. “Pa, he comes and goes. Sometime he’s there, sometimes he’s not. A free spirit, Ma calls him. But Ma, she’s always been there for me, always.”
“Don’t worry, kid, I’ll get this thing.”
“How?” he asked.
“Sorry, kid,” I answered, “trade secret.”
“What if I became a Hunter?”
“Sure, kid,” I answered, “maybe someday… when you grow up.”
“I’m 18!” he protested.
“Kid, I’m gonna keep it real. It takes nerves of steel to be a Hunter, and I gotta tell you, getting sick under pressure… just ain’t gonna cut it. I don’t think you’ve got the balls for this.”
The kid scowled and muttered, “I got balls. I got plenty a’ balls…”
But I just let it rest.
All the way, I was on the lookout for anything that hinted at massive green muscles, but we arrived at our destination without incident.
“In there,” whispered the kid, while pointing at a derelict building. “My ma’s in there.”
“Stay here,” I said, and I crept up to a small window by the door and peered in. Sure enough there was a middle aged woman tied to a metal folding chair. The massive green behemoth was nearby doing shoulder presses with a Buick.
I strained to get a good look at it. No matter how many times I saw one, these things never failed to awe me. It had truly massive shoulders and I could see every ridiculously thick muscle fiber bulging in its enormous delts as it pressed that car up and down. I followed garden hose sized veins down off those pulsating shoulders and over colossal biceps, which changed from thick veiny slabs to chiseled, throbbing boulders, as its arms bent and then straightened out. It had gigantic globular pecs which flexed and bugled enormously as it lifted. Its stomach was like armored steel plating clenching together and releasing as it moved. Its legs were slightly bent causing its enormous sculpted quads to bulge out to impossible proportions as they handled part of the load. The thing was clad only in a pair of ragged tattered shorts, practically the hulk uniform. Most of these things retained enough intelligence that they could clothe themselves properly, but none of them ever did. I think they wanted everyone to see their impossibly overdeveloped physiques… and I imagined they enjoyed looking at it themselves.
“Are you going to need help? Should I go get the sheriff?” I looked over and the kid had ignored me and followed; he was now peering in the window, too.
The sheriff? What did he think the sheriff could do against that green, carved mountain of muscle?
Wait a minute. Things were starting to click into place. This was definitely a trap and I was almost in it. There had to be two of these things; the one in the warehouse was a distraction. They were expecting me to assume this hulk was acting alone. The sheriff had to be the other one. They were gambling I’d be so focused on the obvious hulk that I’d never see the sheriff explode into a muscle beast until it was too late.
The kid was setting me up. I wondered if he even knew it. I hoped he and his mother got out of this alright, but once the hulks started smashing, nothing was certain.
Fortunately, I had an ace up my sleeve they had no idea about.
“Yeah, kid,” I said. “Go get the sheriff.”
The kid disappeared and I briefly contemplated trying to get his mother out of there so she wouldn’t get injured in the crossfire. Well, I say crossfire, but it’s only an expression. Bullets didn’t have any effect against these monstrously muscular things. Only one thing did.
The kid was back quickly with the sheriff. I would have said too quickly if I hadn’t already figured out what was going on.
“What’s the situation?” said the sheriff.
The time for roleplaying was over. I reached into my jacket pocket, removed my injector and injected the trank right through the sheriff’s shirt, directly into his forearm.
“Ahhh!” he yelled, instinctively recoiling and grabbing his forearm. “What the hell was that?”
I wasted no more time. I hit the sheriff in the chin and knocked him on his ass, and then swiftly grabbing the night stick from his belt, I rendered him unconscious with it.
“What’d you just do?” gasped the kid. “What the hell did you just do?”
“Keep calm, kid, I know what I’m doing,” I said. “Now we’re gonna go in there in a minute and I want you to concentrate on getting your mother out of there. Let me worry about the big green muscle beast. He’ll be far too busy with me to pay any attention to you. So get your mom out of there fast, and the two you don’t stop running until you get home, understand?”
The kid nodded rapidly.
I reached down, disarmed the sheriff and then cuffed him with his own handcuffs. He was starting to come to. I slapped him back into semi-consciousness and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, buddy,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”
Shoving the sheriff in front of me, I kicked open the door and went inside. The kid followed behind.
“What the hell is this?” I heard and felt the over amplified base this thing used for a voice. There was discernable wind and even a slight rumble in the ground.
“He’s got me,” said the sheriff. “I feel woozy and… I can’t change!”
“That’s right, Jumbo,” I said to the green muscle beast. I leveled my gun at the sheriff’s head and said, “Now you’re gonna shrink down or I’ll ventilate his ear drums!”
“I’ll fucking smash you!” thundered the beast. This threat was remarkably consistent and I’d probably heard it about 523 times before.
“You can’t smash me without also smashing the sheriff, here,” I said.
“Maybe I don’t care about that,” it said.
“If that were true, you’d have smashed me already,” I said.
“What’d you do to him?” it roared.
“And now we come to it,” I said, “the reason for this whole elaborate trap. I catch you guys for a living and you don’t know how the hell I do it, do you? It defies your limited hulk logic that a little puny guy like me could lay out your over muscled asses. You’re scared to risk a direct confrontation because you don’t know what you’re going against.”
From the look on the creature’s face, I knew I’d nailed it.
“Well, as soon as you shrink down,” I said. “I’ll be pleased to demonstrate… ahhh!”
I suddenly felt an iron grip on my arm as the gun was ripped from my hand like a toy might be taken from a child.
I whirled around and saw the kid had grabbed my gun! “Hey Hunter,” he called mockingly. He grinned evilly, and flexed. RIIIP! Massive veiny biceps erupted out of his skinny arms and blew apart his sleeves! He laughed, gloating over his suddenly powerful, chiseled appendages.
Fuck! The kid was one of them!
Fuck! The kid was one of them! He was goddam one of them! But how..? He was too young!
“Didn’t see that coming, did ya, Hunter?” he said. “How ‘bout this?” He threw back his head, let out a euphoric moan, and suddenly blew up bigger, much bigger. He shot up at least 4 inches, his weak chest and narrow shoulders exploding into huge pecs and bulging delts. His formally loose minimart shirt was instantly skin tight, or maybe I should say muscle tight. Then his stick legs blew up into huge quads and hams, showing their deep cuts and thick ridges right through his uniform pants.
“Fuck, that feels good!” he roared!
Damn, I’d been right. Those boyish good looks and all that muscle… This kid’d stop traffic!
Then he reached into my pocket, pulled out my injector and easily crushed it in his suddenly huge and powerful hand.
“That’s the end of your secret fucking weapon,” he gloated. “Now see mine!”
Grinning he flexed his giant carved biceps again. I watched the shreds of his sleeves slide off those, large, expanding boulder-like biceps and bunch up below his expanding bulbous shoulders, getting caught for an instant between the two ballooning masses of muscle, until… Pop, pop, riiiip, and his sleeves just broke apart, shredding and rolling back like the peel on a banana.
“Fuck!” he bellowed! “That feels so fucking good!”
I had to get out of there!
I hadn’t taken a step before he grabbed me by the front of my shirt. “Where you goin’, little man? I played your game; now you’re gonna play mine.” With that he hoisted me up by the front of my shirt with both hands and started doing curls with me.
“Check out the bi’s, Hunter,” he gloated as we both watched them expand another chiseled inch.
“My nerves might not be steel,” he bared his teeth in a manic grin as, with every rep he completed, his huge biceps bulged bigger and bigger and bigger, “But… I make up for it… with my huge… fucking arms!” The kid’s breathing grew heavier and he began growling softly as he watched them evolve into carved, iron mountains of flesh and huge veiny peaks began to form.
And with each rep, the kid got taller.
“Oh fuck, I like this!” he roared, his voice booming with a new power, as he bulged bigger and bigger with sculpted muscle. “What do you think, tiny?” Ever seen one of us change like this before?
“No,” I gasped. “Usually happens a lot faster.”
“I know,” he said, smiling. “I’m drawing it out, taking my time, having some fun.”
Fuck, they could do that? I didn’t know they could do that!
Then, his dazzling arrogant smile getting almost as big as his arms, he dropped one giant bulging arm and carried on curling me with just the other one, enjoying the sight of his own biceps continuing to expand and bulge into huge and veiny, muscular sculptures.
“When I was a kid, Hunters were, like, the fucking boogie man,” he said. “I was fucking terrified of you! But now… Without your fucking toy…!” He smirked down at me and then laughed. “What can you do but watch me become a god?” and as he spoke his voice got deeper and deeper, dropping at least an octave and it wasn’t hard to see why.
His neck was getting wider and wider with thick, corded muscle. His larynx was expanding, his Adams apple enlarging. His straining collar finally blew apart as bulging, mountainous traps erupted out of his back and tore it to pieces. Then, striated boulder-like shoulders swelled up and blasted out the rest of his sleeves.
The kid paused in his curls and looked down at his hugely muscled chest which had finally stretched his shirt to the limit. “Watch this,” he said, as giant juggernaut pecs swelled up and exploded out of his shirt front, shooting buttons everywhere. And yet somehow the garment remained intact around his remarkably narrow waist. He started flexing his huge pecs, making them bulge bigger and bigger, and holding me up with one of his gigantically muscled arms so I could see.
And I couldn’t miss them, not even if I tried. He wouldn’t let me. He started curling me again and as his monstrous carved and shredded biceps brought me up with each curl, he rammed me into his fucking iron-hard chest, which got bigger, rounder and harder every fucking time.
“Ops!” he said, “Sorry. Ops! Sorry. The pecs are getting so huge I just can ‘t help hitting them!” he laughed, putting me down on the ground. I looked up at him. Damn, that magnificent muscled out kid was almost 7 feet tall.
“Feel this!” he said taking my hand and placing it on one of the warm, pulsing, striated boulder-like pecs. It was stone hard.
“Go ahead show me how you’re gonna beat me with your head! Sounds like a match to me, your head against my pecs! It’s about the same size as one of ‘em,” he snorted derisively.
Then suddenly he shoved my hand in between his two boulder like pecs and squeezed.
“AHHH!” It was like a vice!
Then laughing, he started getting taller again. I had to stretch my arm higher and higher as he rose up and up, my hand inescapably clamped between those two steely orbs! I tried and tried to pull lose, but it was no use. And suddenly I was lifted off the ground and found myself dangling from his monstrous, shredded pecs.
“Well, what are you gonna do now, Hunter?” He laughed. “Nothing you can do, is there? I’ve already beat you with my pecs, just my pecs! What are you gonna do about the rest of me? What are you gonna do when I’m twice this fucking big?
He squeezed his pecs a little harder and I thought my hand would break.
“AHHH! You better stop this right now,” I gasped.
“I better…? Oh wait, I was forgetting; Hulks are scared of you! That must be why my stomach feels so funny, ‘cause I’m so scared of you. Hahaha! Whoa, somethings definitely happening to my stomach!”
From my position, hanging beneath his massive chest, I suddenly saw big chiseled abs explode out of his waist. The big impressive muscles pressed against the lower shirt front for just a second before they blew the last remnant of the garment apart, shredding it to pieces and releasing the powerful brick wall of muscle which continued to throb and bulge and expand.
“Ah, that was it!” he said with an exaggerated tone of discovery. “It was just more fucking muscle!”
He relaxed his pecs and I dropped to the ground.
The kid leaned over and shoved his brick wall stomach right in my face. “Like my abs, Hunter? They’re hard like diamonds, like diamonds. I had a car hit me in the abs when I was 12, just 12. I totaled it. Ever total a car with just your abs, Hunter. Know what that feels like? Hey, about another contest, you against my abs? Yeah, you’re right. Eight abs against one Hunter, that wouldn’t really be fair. Ops,” he said as two more dense, carved muscle bricks exploded out of his mid-section, “make that 10 against 1.”
He laughed again, stood up and wiped the last shreds of his destroyed mini mart shirt from his titanic, muscled frame. “Ah, that’s better! Fucking tiny, cheesy shirts! I hate em! And I also hate cheesy pants!” He bellowed as he blasted his pant legs into shreds with his behemoth hams and quads in all their veiny, chiseled, ripped-up glory.
“Fuck! I hated being small,” he thundered. “I don’t know how you fucking stand it all the fucking time!” He raised his arm and blasted out a colossal bicep flex. “Fuck that feels good! Muscles feel so fucking good! Gonna have to take my word on that, Hunter, ‘cause there’s no way you’d fucking know.”
Damn, those things had to be a massive sculpted 40 inches… and they were still pulsing, throbbing and growing…
“Gonna… get bigger now, Ma, right?” he called across the room. “Gonna show the little man just how big I can get!”
Then he grabbed me. I felt his hand on my arm like a padded steel pincer. I tried to break away, but forget it. He was already so inhumanly strong he could’ve broken me into pieces without even thinking about it.
“I bet you’re sorry you fucked with us now,” he said, grinning that boyishly beautiful cocky grin.
“Let me go,” I said.
“Let you go?” he repeated mockingly. “But I want you to have a front row seat!”
Then he swung me up and dropped me on his flexed bicep. Damn I was straddling this massive kid’s gigantic carved mountain of a bicep. It was hard and warm and he didn’t even seem to notice my weight.
“Try squeezing it with your legs, Hunter. Go on! Try it!” The force of his voice almost knocked me off my perch.
Left without a choice I squeezed it between my legs. It was like squeezing granite.
“Give it up, Hunter,” he laughed. “You’ll shatter your puny little legs before you dent one of my massive biceps! Ready for a ride?”
He grinned down at me once again and suddenly threw back his head and let out an almighty roar! His body began exploding with muscle. Fuck. I mean I’d seen hulk-outs before – plenty of ‘em. But nothing like this… Veiny, carved muscle just kept erupting up out of this kid, as he roared with ecstasy, growing bigger and more sculpted and vascular—all over. And beneath me his bicep kept surging and pulsing huger and thicker and harder, making it difficult for me to straddle. And as the roar died, he started flexing again and again and laughing as his mountain of a bicep tossed me in the air again and again like a mechanical horse at a western bar – except I’m sure the horse would have been softer to land on. Fuck his arm was impossibly gigantic, carved iron! I would have been thrown off, if I hadn’t grabbed on to the firehose sized vein that was snaking over his stony bicep peak.
“Watch the little Hunter bounce,” he laughed the behemoth sculpted muscle boy, his massive abs bulging and heaving. “Can you hold on, little tiny Hunter? Can you hold on through this?”
And suddenly he threw back his head and roared again as monstrous traps rose out of his broadening back and his chest grew from concreate melons to basketballs to fucking medicine balls. His chiseled abs bulged up to the size of my fist, then doubled in size and doubled again. I saw his shredded pants completely fall apart, destroyed by ridiculously huge, carved hamstrings, quads and glutes. He was wearing something under there resembling black boxer briefs. I don’t know what it was made of but it sure as hell stretched.
And as all these muscles erupted out of him, he was shooting upwards, getting taller and taller, while all the time his massive stony bicep stretched and thickened and grew until I couldn’t hold on any longer and just flew off.
I hit the ground and looked up at the monstrously muscled, baby faced beast.
“Haha, little Hunter,” he called down to me. “You said I could join you when I grew up. Am I grown up enough now? Or maybe I should grow a little more!”
He howled with rumbling, mocking laughter as his lats broadened and his entire torso widened like the hood of some massive mutant cobra. He laughed again and flexed as his biceps bulged up even more inconceivably massive and his shoulders swelled into colossal, striated orbs. His pecs evolved into beyond monstrous iron-like masses. And still up he grew.
“Am I grown up enough yet?” he bellowed down at me. “No? Okay, just for you I’ll get bigger!”
Taller and taller and wider and thicker, he got. And as he regarded his impossibly massive, insanely beautiful and tyrannically powerful physique, his laugher changed back into a bellowing roar!
The power in this kid’s body was inconceivable. His muscles size and definition defied description. He flexed every muscle in his impossibly colossal physique at once. I couldn’t imagine what the physical sensation of that much power must be like. I’d wager it would drive anyone insane!
“I’m the fucking man!!!!” he bellowed, shaking the building as he gloated over his carved up, veiny, mountainous biceps! “The biggest fucking hulk that ever existed! And you’re a helpless little ant I wanna step on!”
I stared up at this beast, who absolutely topped 12 feet and who had biggest, thickest, most ripped-up, impossibly muscular physique I had ever seen. The kid had become a titan of unstoppable massive, heaving power, and I didn’t know how I, or any other Hunter (or any army for that matter), would ever be able to stop him. I’d finally found my Uber Hulk. But I’d fucked up and he’d found me first…
But how was that even possible? He hadn’t been at The Event. He was too young!
“Look, ma,” he bellowed in an impossible base. “Look how big I got this time! Bet I could crack the world open with one fucking punch!” The kid flexed and posed his outrageously massively muscled body. “Wanna see me try?”
Fuck, the kid’s thunderous voice, alone, was almost shaking the building to pieces!
I looked over at the poor terrified woman, tied up in her chair, just trembling.
“You think that’s gonna make your mom proud?” I said. “Look at her. She’s terrified of you!”
The kid laughed, a big thick rolling sound like a diesel engine just turning over. “You’re pretty stupid, aren’t you, puny man. Maybe it’s because you got no muscle to think with. That’s not my ma,” he said pointing at the terrified woman. “She’s just window dressing, bait for the trap.”
The kid reached over and, with one giant finger, snapped the woman’s bonds. She lost no time in running for her life.
The kid chuckled. “That’s my ma,” he said pointing to the other hulk.
Holy crap! That thing was his mother? My head reeled. This had huge consequences!
“But all the tests…” I muttered, nearly incoherent with shock. “They proved it. You can’t have kids.”
“Oh, it doesn’t work with a human,” said the mother-thing. “But with each other, when we’re hulked, that’s a different story.”
Hulk sex? I could barely imagine what that must be like. The act would probably level a city block! What hadn’t anyone ever thought of that? Because these things didn’t associate with each other, hardly ever!
I suddenly looked over at the sheriff. “You mean…?”
“Yup,” bellowed the impossibly massive muscle kid. “Meet my Pa, the free spirit.”
Holy crap, a whole freaking family of hulks. “You’re a family?”
“We are,” said the mother-thing. “‘Course it wasn’t easy. Raising a family was such a challenge. When I first pushed him out, he was so puny and pink and weak. Poor thing was so fragile when he was a kid. Kept thinking I was gonna break him. He didn’t start hulking til he hit puberty, and now… well, look at him! He’s way bigger than either of us!”
I could see her set of enormous, shredded pectorals swell with pride.
And I think the beyond massive muscle kid was blushing. His green turned a little greener.
“Of course it wasn’t until high school, that we discovered his special gift. He was fooling around with one of his little classmates, as boys do, you know, being boys, when… Oh now wait a minute. I’ve almost gone and spoiled the surprise.”
Surprise? Not another one.
“Can I play with him first?” asked the young muscled nuclear powerhouse. He leered evilly in my direction and advanced toward me. Crap, this kid was so big I could feel the gravitational pull off his bulging, vein-covered left quad, alone. “I wanna play with him some more!”
“Haven’t you had enough fun already, Ollie,” the mother-thing said.
“But look what he did to Pa!” Ollie protested.
The sheriff staggered around and looked up at his mountainous, chiseled, muscle son, and said, “Don’t eat any green bananas!”
“See Ma, he’s gone all funny!” Suddenly his deep tone turned from maliciously playful to threatening. “And I sure hope for your sake that’s not permanent!”
Suddenly, a light at the end of the tunnel. I might get out of this yet. I had a bargaining chip.
“I could help him,” I said. “There is an antidote. But you gotta release me to go get it.”
The impossibly huge, carved, veiny, young juggernaut looked uncertain. He turned to his mother. “Ma?”
“Hell no, Son,” she said. “I think it’s time to show him your gift.”
“Yeah!” thundered the gigantic, colossally muscled boy-thing. “Check this out, Puny Hunter!” And he reached down and ripped those boxer briefs free from his massively muscled groin. Out tumbled the biggest broadest cock that could possibly exist. The thing was at least 3 feet long and hanging low across a set of melon sized balls.
“Whadaya say, Hunter? Still think I ain’t got the balls? Haha. Just one of my balls is fucking bigger than your entire puny little head!”
As soon as it was free, his cock instantly started to fill with blood. The kid got a kind of hungry leer on his face as he watched his giant veiny shaft swell bigger and thicker and longer, oddly echoing his own recent transformation.
When it was done, the kid had what looked like a 5 foot long, 4 foot around massive green battering ram extending from his groin. His lips parted slightly and his eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned, “Oh man, you have no idea what it feels like to have a gamma cock. Think how much more power my arm has than your puny little twig, then apply that to a cock—the sensation, so dope.”
So this was the kid’s gift? I had to admit it was one hell of a gift, but I didn’t quite get the relevancy.
“Now, son, do it now,” said the mother thing.
The kid’s eyes snapped open and he grinned down at me. Oh shit, I began to guess what was coming next. My eyes instinctively sought out the exits, but I knew I’d never reach one in time.
Fuck it, I tried anyway.
But like I predicted I didn’t get two steps before the humongously built, ridiculously hung and impossibly muscled youth snatched me up in one of his power shovel hands. I knew I was fucked—literally. I struggled, but all I could offer was a token resistance. Fuck, this kid’s forearm was wider around than my entire body. I could see muscles and tendons bulging and flexing inside it that were bigger around than my legs.
“How does it feel, hunter?” gloated the impossibly massive and muscular boy. “How does it feel for you to be so small and weak, like a sniveling little bitch, to be completely helpless and hopeless, like you left my poor Pa?”
He squeezed a little and I felt like my bones might shatter.
“I could crush you right now, puny man,” he said, “easier than squashing a bug would be for you. I can’t believe I was scared of you, afraid you’d take my ma away. I can’t believe my whole life we’ve been running from puny little Hunters like you!”
He squeezed again. More pain. “Feel how strong I am? Know how much power I have? I’ll give you a hint. If I let loose and squeezed as hard as I could, you’d be completely pulverized, crushed into atoms, gone forever without a trace! And I can do it anytime I want.”
I nodded rapidly.
“If only I’d known, when I was a kid, just a scared little kid running from Hunters… If only I’d known this was waiting for me.” and then he flexed one of those planetoid biceps of his and swung me around to get a close look at the sculpted, veiny, mountainous mass.
“I know now,” he grinned.
Then with one stroke, he ripped off my pants. Fuck that hurt. I remember thinking I was lucky my belt snapped before my back broke. But there I was, naked from the waist down and clamped inside this beyond massively muscular kid’s giant paw.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he sneered. “All fucking night I’ve been waiting for this. Ever since I first saw your puny ass walk into the minimart, I knew this moment would come. All night I’ve been listening to you hate on me, hate on the hulks… I wanted to muscle explode and stomp your ass so many times… But I held back. We had to know how you did it. But, I knew this time would come… when I would be all enormous, veiny, and iron-hard, and your puny little ass would be my helpless little toy. I knew it would come and now it’s fucking here!” And then suddenly he took that battering ram of his and rammed it up my butt!
“AHHHHHH! FUCK!” I yelled! It was iron-hard! So much pain! It felt like my pelvis would split in two! The he started pumping. Fuck! This kid was gonna rip me apart! He was gonna rip me apart on his massive iron cock! That was his revenge! Who’d have guessed that’s how I’d go out, fucked to death by a hormone ravaged, teenaged hulk?
And then something began to build in the atmosphere. Even through my agony I felt it, a kind of vibration, a thrum… It kept building and building, permeating everything around. It was the kid. Somehow I knew it was emanating from the kid and his monster cock. And as it got more and more intense, rattling the very air, his heavy breathing took on a kind of carnal snarl. The vibration was now world splitting. His growls grew in intensity until I thought the deep rumble would explode my eardrums. Then every muscle on that impossible mountainous body tensed, massive arms bulged, veins popped, pec striations deepened, brick-like abs clamped together and with a universe shattering bellow he came like an erupting volcano! The building shook to its foundations. Windows shattered! Debris fell from the ceiling! There was a rumbling all around like an earthquake as I felt him coming inside me. It was like acid, like acid under an insane pressure, shooting up through my body, all through my body. I was burning inside! It seemed to go on forever.
Then he popped me off his impossibly massive cock and let me tumble to the floor. I looked up through the haze of intense burning pain and saw his giant engorged cock head. The fucking size of it. It was wider around than me!
I remember thinking, “I had that thing inside me? How am I alive?”
And then I felt it. The burning was changing, not lessening, but changing. It was becoming more electric, more charged, like energy, like an insane burning energy!
“Are you on fire yet, Hunter?” said the insanely mountainous muscle boy. “You’re sure squirming like you are.”
“I’m burning!” I gasped.
“Hey Ma, Pa, come here,” cried the kid. “This should be good!” His cock had deflated and he was now standing over me looking like kids usually look when their favorite TV show is about to start.
And then I felt it. I’d like to say I was swelling, but it was more like I was exploding in slow motion.
Muscles were surfacing and swelling, turning my ordinary limbs into throbbing landscapes of cords and tendons. I could feel my sleeves getting tight as my upper arms swelled into large, hard masses. And under my shirt, my pecs were pushing out of my chest, growing rounder, fuller, and harder. The burning sensation was getting stronger and stronger and I could feel my body getting harder and thicker from top to bottom. And yeah, I was getting taller. I felt myself stretching.
Those bastards! They were making me into one of them!
And then I felt my growing body surge inside a shirt that suddenly was way too tight. I could feel my iron-hard body pressing against it. The cloth was straining. Seams were stressing. I felt compelled to flex my arms and felt the sleeves get so tight, they would normally have cut off my circulation. But not now. And suddenly RIIIIIIIIP! I felt the sleeves explode as big veiny balls of rock hard muscle just erupted out of them.
Now I felt two boulders pushing their way out of my chest. I watched the front of my shirt stretch out as I felt my pecs grow inside it like expanding globes of steel, pulling it tighter and stretching it to the limit.
Fuck, the problem was, this didn’t feel bad, not bad at all. In fact, I kinda liked it…
I flexed my new huge iron-like chest, and enjoyed the feeling of it bullying the flimsy cloth, pushing the front open, making those buttons hold on for dear life. Then POP! One of the buttons exploded off. POP! POP! POP! The rest of the upper buttons flew off and my shirt peeled back revealing those two expanding, striated globes of muscle thrusting out from beneath. I rubbed my hand over my giant pecs. They felt like iron, like fucking iron. Fuck! I was really starting to enjoy this!
I ripped open the rest of my shirt, sending buttons flying and revealing my stomach. At first it was as svelte as always; but then I felt it, steely lumps forming under the skin as the outline of a six pack started to appear. Man I could feel the muscles just growing bigger and harder until I actually had abs. I passed my hand over them. They felt hard and solid. But it didn’t stop there; they kept getting larger, pushing out, and bulking up, like huge swellling rocks. In seconds my stomach had solidified into a wall of powerful, iron abdominals. Why did I like this so much?
And then I felt my back grow wider and thicker, and stretch the hell out of my shirt. Threads began popping and cloth began tearing as I felt great, thick lats erupt from my body. “Oh fuck!” I cried. Seconds later I felt my shirt rip open releasing my thickening muscular back, “Damn!” I yelled and huge globular shoulder muscles exploded from my body and tore out of the sleeves. “FUUUUUK!” I cried as my expanding muscled torso continued to rip my shirt into shreds and reduce it to pathetic rags which slid off my heaving, throbbing, swelling iron-like bulging muscles and fell into a heap on the ground.
And suddenly I was dizzy again. I could feel myself stretching. Legs, arms, everything was getting longer, and the big warehouse seemed to be getting smaller, closing in on me. I stood up.
Fuck, I was way over seven feet tall now. The sheriff was now looking up at me past my huge shredded pecs—He looked so tiny, but that was because… I was fucking gigantic!
“Oh my fucking God!” I shouted and flexed. My upper arms swelled into gigantic twin granite peaks. The shoulders above them were the size of cannonballs. My forearms were great wedges of muscle leading up to my thick heavy fists.
“Ahhhhh….AHHHHHHHHH! FUCK!” I yelled and exploded upward, my mammoth muscles expanding in proportion, making my newly monstrous frame unbelievably massive. “So fucking big!” I shouted as my shoulders stretched out further and further as grew into huge balls of rock hard flesh. Colossal traps rose up and merged with my thickening neck and I could feel my back getting thicker and wider behind me. And God, I had to be more than eight feet tall!
My pants tore up the sides, releasing two Goliath-like thighs which were bulging out to an amazing size. In a moment those huge muscles, writhing and swelling under my skin, shredded my pants to bits, leaving me naked.
I felt my cock begin to respond to the change, to the all-pervading feeling of impossible physical power that was racing through every inch of me. And as it started to swell and throb, I couldn’t believe the sensation! The kid had been right! My old cock had been but a pale reflection of the giant gamma shaft I now had exploding from my groin. How had I lived my whole life without this fucking feeling?! It was fucking glorious! I flexed my gigantic arms and let out a roar. I felt like the embodiment of male physical perfection!
But I wasn’t done yet! I flexed my already massive arms and watched them bulge up into veiny peeked mountains and then grow even larger. My shoulders continued to stretch outward, further and further, exploding into incredible globes of an unbelievable size that could only compare to my titanic pecs. My back pushed out further, causing my entire upper body to grow wider and wider as I continued to grow taller and taller. I was just fucking mountainous now. I looked down at the sheriff now, way, way down. He was like a toddler, lost in the shadow of my massive, expanding form.
And then it was over. I pulled a most muscular and every one of my incredibly large, incredibly powerful muscles bulged out all over me. It was a feeling not to be believed. I let out a roar and my gamma shaft exploded. The force of the inconceivable orgasmic sensation almost knocked me on my gigantic bubble butt! For a second I got completely lost in how huge, and impossibly muscular and powerful I felt. I had to be somewhere near 10 feet tall, weighing a couple of tons. The fucking size of me… I was a fucking monster… and I loved it!
I looked over at the magnificent kid. He still towered two feet above me and his muscles… well, fuck, he must weigh at least twice what I did!
But the mother, she wasn’t more than 8 feet tall and actually looked kind of small, even dainty, to me now.
“See, dear,” she said to the kid. “He’s one of us now. Try asking him about your Pa again.”
I looked back down at my monstrously muscled body, and the consequences of what had just happened began to sink in. I was a hulk now, a pretty damn big one, massively muscular and powerful beyond imagining, and it felt good, real good.
I reached over and grabbed the Buick the kid’s Ma had been using for shoulder presses and easily lifted it up over my head with one massive, bulging, veiny arm. It was so light, so easy. I was so fucking powerful now. I laughed with exultation. I couldn’t help it. I don’t know if it was the thrill of lifting the car or how amazing all those massive iron-like muscles felt bulging out of my body.
But I was a Hunter, had been for 20 years; what did I do now? The phrase, absolutely any fucking thing I wanted, came to mind.
It was ironic, I thought, looking down at my massively muscular and veiny arms, I’d been a Hunter for 20 years, and now that I finally had the tools to do my job properly, I was no longer qualified to do it. And to top it off, I had information that would revolutionize the Hunter profession. Hulks could mate with other hulks and they had Uber Hulk kids, and their Uber Hulk kids – at least the boys – could make other hulks. I could just imagine the uproar.
But none of that mattered now. As soon as they discovered what I’d become, I’d be tranked and sent to live in the camp, just like all the other hulks. No way, no fucking way!
“Your Pa’s gonna be fine,” I said, marveling at the deep timber of my voice. “That shit wares off. He’ll be dizzy and confused for a couple of days, but then he’ll get over it and be like he was. He’d need to be constantly dosed to keep him from changing permanently.”
Both the kid and the mother looked relieved, but the sheriff just looked up and said, “Is it Tuesday? I thought it was Tuesday.”
And now I felt a burning energy and an impossible strength. I just had to know what this massively muscular behemoth body could do. I reasoned that the town had already been largely demolished before I’d even gotten there. What harm could it do to crush or throw a couple of previously wrecked cars around?
Actually, I thought, feeling my massively powerful arms flex, I wouldn’t mind finding an oppressing army to lay low either. But, you know, one step at a time.
“Hey,” I said to the kid. “You down for a game of Toyota Toss?”