Christmas on Muscle Street: The Grench Who Found Christmas
by Yachirobi
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is for adult readers only. It is not suitable for children.
Ed Grench drove down Mussil Street with his headlights off, navigating the road with by the lights of the Christmas decorations alone. The old, Victorian homes were slathered with white and red lights all across the roofs, awnings, gutters, windows, doors, trees, mailboxes, driveways-- Oh, it made Ed want to spit. He imagined himself putting on the brakes, running up to the house--any house--and ripping off every damn light and decoration before moving on to the next. Or maybe he'd just torch the homes. Take a sledgehammer to the windows. What about a drive-by? That'd do it! But he kept on driving, took a deep breath, and told himself to focus.
1225 was hidden around a bend in the road. It was surrounded by big evergreens. Ed wondered if anyone other than the immediate neighbors were actually aware of it. But of all the homes, it was empty. And undecorated. If anything, at least there would be some copper in it. But the yard was clean and the trees were trimmed. The paint, if not new, wasn't peeling. Ed bit his bottom lip and dragged it out from between his teeth as he pulled up into the driveway. There wasn't even a gate. Easy pickings.
The home was taller than the others and, even though it was painted white, it was darker for being completely undecorated save for a wreath on the front door that Ed ignored. On a street of homes that looked like fairy tale castles made small, 1225 was a fortress and a mountain all rolled into one, white monster of a home. No one built a fortress if they didn't have a treasure to protect inside. Thinking of the loot, Ed bit his lip again.
He parked the van, hopped out, and then went up to a door on the side of the white colossus. When he went to pick the lock, however, he turned the handle and the door budged. It took two shoves from him but the door came open.
"Oh, you idiots." he said, grinning. He dragged his lip through his teeth and went in.
He found himself in the kitchen. The appliances were antique in their appearance, as if they existed in a time warp going back to World War II, maybe earlier. Ed stomped his feet on the mat and stepped in slowly.
When his light hit the refrigerator, Ed noticed the pictures that were set there on magnets. Muscle men. Big dudes in skimpy shorts, all grinning and flexing. Oiled us and shiny. No fat. Ed sneered at them. Especially at the dude with the big white beard and the even-bigger biceps. The other men barely came up to his shoulders but they all had their arms around him. There was one picture of the white bearded man holding some sort of trophy.
"Muscle Santa." Ed said. He snatched the picture off of the refrigerator, looked at it closely for a moment, then threw it down on the ground. "Dirty old perv."
And that was when he saw the red glow coming out of the next room. Ed held his breath and turned off the flashlight. There were no footsteps. No voices. Ed took soft steps into the room. The light was coming from off to the right but he couldn't see the source until he passed through the archway.
The Christmas tree Ed found had to be taller than the house. It was impossible, of course, but it was what he saw. A gigantic tree, stretched all the way to the darkness of the ceiling that wasn't illuminated by the bright red star on top. The tree was wrapped in a red ribbon swirl that was the width of Ed's hand and forearm. Red lights went along the top and bottom of the ribbon, and there were all sorts of other decorations there. Beneath the tree were so many presents that it looked like whoever lived there was giving presents out to the entire neighborhood. They were all wrapped in metallic paper. Gold, green, and red. Lots of red but,If they'd been any other color, Ed still would have seen red.
Where was his present? Didn't he get one? He'd been a good boy. He'd been good all those years and got next to nothing. "Santa can't come this year." his mother said. "He needs to give presents to the kids who don't have enough." But Ed didn't have enough! Finally she'd just up and told him that there was no such thing as Santa. They were too poor to play the game. Ed bit his lip but held it this time, biting down hard to the point of bleeding. Everything blurred before his eyes in a vision of red. The tears rolled down.
"Dirty pervert." He said. "You get all this and what do I get?" Ed stomped on one of the packages, feeling it crunch under his boot. "What do I get?" He kicked another box. Ed dove at the tree. "What do I get?" He tore at the ribbon and at the lights. He smashed bulbs. "What do I get? What do I get?"
Ed snatched a Santa Claus ornament off and held it to his face. "What do I get, huh? Nothing! You get it all and I get nothing! Not a single damn thing!" Ed was about to throw it down but stopped--he wasn't sure why--and held the ornament to his eyes.
The Santa Claus ornament was heavier than the others, made out of wood painted and polished to a shine. But the jolly fucker wasn't short and fat like he was supposed to be. This Santa was more like the G.I. Joe doll he'd never gotten. Big and tall and broad. Powerful. Ed could almost see the wooden muscles through the wooden Santa suit. It even felt warm. Through his gloves, Ed felt some kind of heat coming from it. Or was the heat coming from himself?
"You better watch out..." he heard someone sing softly and deeply. Was it a recording? The actual man? That freaky Muscle Santa?
"You better not cry..." The floor tilted as if the room had become a boat. Ed whimpered and gripped the Santa ornament tight, as if it were a life-saver.
"You better not pout..." Ed stepped backwards and the room tilted forwards. When he stumbled forward the room tilted back.
"I'm telling you why..." Ed lowered himself to the ground curled into a heap. "Oh no." he said. "oh no oh no oh no--"
"Santa Claus is coming..." With that, a tingling sensation bubbled up within him. His head felt light but other parts of his body felt suddenly heavy. He felt like he was in a roller coaster car, about to go down the hill. He felt like there was a gun pointed at his temple. He felt like he was standing in front of a beautiful girl who was taking off her clothes and he was going to see her--he was going to see any girl--nude for the first time.
Ed had no choice but to sing along to the last words. The only way out was through.
"Toooo towwwwwn..."
As a new rush of heat washed up from under him, Ed looked up to see all of the tree's decorations floating over it like planets circling around a sun. The big, red ribbon was even further off of the tree. In fact, it was coming after him.
Ed didn't move. What was the point in running, anyway?
The song continued as the ribbon, shining with its own red light, enveloped him. At once Ed found himself floating in a red shaft. He loosened his grip on the Santa ornament and it floated out of his hands to rise to his face. It glowed for a moment, turning a bright white like Ed had never seen before, and then burst into shiny bits like little snowflakes made of light. The snow-lights swirled around him. Stars in red space.
Ed felt his body burn, but there was no pain. Instead there were the feelings of life, of the acts of life, as sweet as the first time he'd felt them, if not sweeter.
A few of the snow-lights clustered around his mouth and chin, making his skin itch. At once hairs sprang out from the skin there, even though he had shaved that morning, and formed a thick, red beard. The snow went into his black sweater and Ed felt an itch there too as his smooth skin grew a ginger forest.
The snow-lights rose into the air above Ed and the ribbons shot out from their wall and wrapped themselves around Ed's arms and legs. Another ribbon, very slender, wrapped around his neck squeezed tight. Ed tried to pull it off but the other ribbons pulled him away. Not only were they wrapping around but he felt them going inside, piercing the skin and going into the muscle and the bone, maybe his soul if he had one.
There was still no pain and Ed tried to scream anyway. But, instead of screaming, he laughed. He kept trying to cry out--to who or what, he didn't know--but it was only laughter that came out. And each laugh sounded bigger and warmer. His voice was so rich that it was like it's own cough drop, soothing his throat and his body, stimulating the warm, rich feelings in his body further. Ed stopped trying to scream but he kept laughing anyway, despite himself. The laugh itself turned from his usual "ha ha ha!" to "hao hao hao!" to "ho ho ho--"
Oh, snap. He was turning into--
Ed tried to yell out "I don't wanna be Santa Claus! Don't make me Santa Claus!" but Santa's laughter continued to come from his mouth.
And the breaths he took after each round of laughter filled him. At first it was just his lungs but, when he realized his lungs were expanding, the warm air filled the rest of his body. All at once, he felt his clothes tightening on him. Was he going to get belly like a bowl full of jelly?
He tried to say "Please, don't make me fat!" but, of course, he just let out that trademark laugh. Ed caught a respite from laughing and bit on his bottom lip, dragging it through teeth that were whiter and straighter than they'd been before. The sensations through his body became sweeter and hotter and Ed wondered if they were the same sensations David Banner felt when he turned into the Hulk.
Suddenly, Ed's chest pushed out and spread itself wide, tearing the fabric of his black sweater. Ed let out a moan with his laughter and bit on his lip again. His narrow shoulders spread themselves out to and the muscles there tightened and swelled. "Yes," he said, and realized that he had wanted to say the word and had been allowed it, albeit in that hot-cocoa voice that wasn't his own. He moaned again when he felt his right sleeve give way to his arm as his biceps and triceps inflated. When his left sleeve followed suit, his moan was more of a roar. And then the seams of his jeans burst in unison and that made his hips start to buck. Ed tore at the rest of his sweater and ran his hands over his new chest and rippling belly. Everything was so hard! And hairy! There were so many ridges that hadn't been there before, and the skin was so sensitive. And he still felt himself growing stronger, growing larger. Ed pounded his fists on his chest like a gorilla and found it was like beating on a rock. He tore away at his pants next and felt equal hardness and hairiness on his legs. Even his calves seemed swollen with the potential for power. His legs were built for speed. His torso was built for stamina. His arms were built for power. All of his body was built for beauty, reworked from his original foundation to reach it's true potential, one Ed had never known before. Ed laughed at the realization of this and felt the ho-ho-hos he let out were finally his own.
But the laughter stopped when Ed felt another ribbon reaching up into his body, diving throughout his nerves and veins, and latching onto the ribbon --the collar--around his neck. Then he felt the ribbon take over his eyes.
He sees you when you're sleeping.
He knows when you're awake.
He knows if you've been bad...
Bright light came from above Ed and it was pure fire over his body, as if he were suddenly crashing into the--
Moon. Ed looked up and saw the moon and the stars glittering with only a few clouds decorating the sky. He realized he was standing on the roof of 1225, the top of the mountain fortress. Below he saw Mussil street spread out before him. His route, he thought. His route for what?
A present shot out from the chimney and into the sack--where had that sack come from? Why was he holding it open? More of them shot out and they filled the bag until it was larger than he was, and Ed knew he'd become awfully big.
Ed looked at what he could of his body and found he was wearing a red thong that was too small to contain him. His gloves had become red and fingerless, no protection from the cold, but Ed realized he couldn't feel it. He had leather boots on too but they weren't necessary. And the hat on his head? Ed laughed his new ho-ho-hos again, knowing what it was.
A punishment? Maybe. Ed tried to pull red Santa hat off and found that, for all his new found muscle, it wouldn't budge or even tear. But, looking back onto the neighborhood, something told him he had found a new beginning too. The houses on Mussil street seemed even brighter than they were before, as if they were the only ones that existed.
Marks. They were his next stops. Ed looked at the bag of presents and knew at once what he was to do. He felt the ribbon writhe within his body and bucked his hips in response. There would be a reward at the end, one never mentioned in the Santa songs he'd heard as a kid, but Ed had a job to do first. A job only a muscle man could do.
"This is one messed up punishment." Ed said. He felt something kiss him on the cheek and smiled.
Ed jumped from the roof of 1225 Mussil street onto 1229, then jumped again into the chimney. Did he shrink to fit it? Did it grow to accommodate him? What did it matter? He landed on the logs in the fireplace and jumped out into the living room, then opened his bag and pulled out two gifts, one for a father and the other for the son...