I was 180 kg of disappointment, at least that’s how I felt every time I caught my reflection in the gym’s mirror. Every step, every bead of sweat was fueled by one single thought.
Rose. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, her laughter ringing across the gym like music. I couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore. If she wanted someone strong and fit, that’s what I had to become. But weeks of torture on the treadmill and weights yielded almost nothing. The scale barely moved, and Rose didn’t even notice me.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice how some of the most sculpted guys in the gym occasionally collapsed during their workouts. They’d be taken to the locker room, pale and shaky, but always came back the next day looking stronger than ever. It made no sense.
Frustrated, I finally complained to my trainer.
“It’s pointless,” I grumbled and decided to let everything go.
“I’ve tried everything. I’ll never look like them.”
He gave me a sly smile and leaned in, lowering his voice.
“You’re right. Workouts alone won’t cut it. But I’ve got something special for guys like you.”
From his locker, he retrieved a small black jar. It read Fastest Weight Loss Protein.
“This,” he said, tapping it with his finger, “is the shortcut. A secret formula. It’s 100% safe and guarantees fast results.”
I hesitated, staring at the jar.
“What’s in it?”
“Trust me, Bulk. You’ll thank me later.”
Desperation won over logic, and that night, I took my first scoop of the black protein. It tasted bitter and earthy, but I gulped it down, chasing it with water.
The effects were immediate. Within days, my body began to transform. My gut shrank, my arms swelled with muscle, and my face—once round and bloated—gained sharp, chiseled features. Even my digestion improved.
For the first time in my life, I felt confident. Rose even smiled at me one afternoon, and I swear my heart stopped.
But then, strange things began to happen.
One morning, I noticed an itch in my throat. A constant tickling that wouldn’t go away. My skin, taut over my new muscles, sometimes felt like it was crawling, as though something moved beneath the surface.
And then there was the jar. I’d been going through it faster than I thought, and as I scooped out the last serving, something caught my eye. Inside the powder… something squirmed.
My stomach turned as I fished it out—a tiny black leech wriggling between my fingers. I dropped it, horrified, and stared at the jar in disbelief. What had I been drinking?
At the hospital, the truth came out. The doctor showed me the scans of my body, his face pale. My muscles weren’t muscles. They were writhing, tangled masses of leeches. These creatures had burrowed inside me, feeding on my fat and growing, giving the illusion of strength.
I confronted the trainer the next day, holding the jar in trembling hands. He didn’t flinch.
“Relax. They’re harmless. They only feed on excess. When you’re ready, there’s a pill to flush them out. Isn’t this what you wanted? You’re strong, healthy, and Rose notices you now, doesn’t she?”
His words twisted in my mind. He wasn’t wrong. For the first time, I had what I’d always wanted.
So I ignored the itch in my throat, the occasional stinging under my skin. I kept drinking the protein and enjoying my newfound body.
Until the morning I couldn’t breathe.
It started as a scratchy feeling, turned into suffocation. My vision blurred as I gagged, clawing at my throat. Something inside was moving, writhing its way up.
I stumbled into the gym, collapsing at the trainer’s feet.
“Help me,” I choked out, blood spilling from my mouth.
He reacted immediately, forcing me onto the floor and yanking my jaw open. His hand disappeared into my throat, and I felt the unbearable tugging of something alive being pulled out.
I screamed as the creature fought back, scraping against the walls of my throat. Finally, with a wet, sickening pop, it came free. The leech was massive, writhing and dripping with blood. The trainer tossed it aside, but the damage was done.
I lay on the floor, gasping, my body trembling. When I finally mustered the strength to sit up, I caught my reflection in the gym mirror.
The man staring back was unrecognizable. My skin hung loose over my skeleton, my eyes sunken, my once-impressive frame reduced to a hollow shell.
The trainer crouched beside me, smirking.
“Well, Bulk,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder, “you’ve finally hit your goal weight. Congratulations.
RELATED POSTS
View all
