Charlie was roused from his sleep by a gentle touch, Ellie's soft hands were tenderly dabbing at his face with a damp cloth, cleaning away the dried blood and grime. The armour he had worn during the day still clung to him, he had been too exhausted to bother removing it. A makeshift bedroll had been his sole comfort during the short hours of rest. "Sorry to wake you, Charlie," Ellie murmured apologetically, "But there's food ready. And I need to check on your wounds to ensure there's no risk of infection."
Despite the sleep-fogged disorientation, a grin unfurled on Charlie's face. "You know, you look really pretty when you're fussing over me," he commented lightly, his eyes meeting hers. The words elicited a bashful blush from Ellie and a look of wide-eyed shock from Carter. Charlie wouldn't have said such a thing so casually a few weeks ago, but facing death and danger had a way of putting things into perspective.
The scent of frying sausages wafted over him, making his stomach growl in anticipation. The sound of his grumbling belly triggered laughter from both himself and Ellie. With a groan of exertion, Charlie hoisted himself to his feet, his armour disappearing into his ring as he shuffled over to join his brother by the camp stove. That's when the smell hit him - the distinctive stench of blood, sweat, urine, and the remnants of the disgusting mushroom mulch. With a grimace of distaste, he realised he hadn't bathed or brushed his teeth in three days and had crawled through god knows what filth. And then a horrifying thought hit him: he had been embraced by Ellie and Ryan not too long ago in this very state. "For fuck's sake," he muttered under his breath, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
Noticing the tents that had been set back up while he slept, "Guys," he began, "I...I can't eat like this. I need to clean up." Ryan chuckled, "Didn't want to say it, but dude you fucking stink and smell like you've had a run-in with a sewer." Ellie being tactful pointed him towards his own tent that had been set back up and held some of his clean clothes and wipes. He muttered a quick thank you before disappearing from their view. His dirt-ridden clothes were quickly stashed away in his inventory ring. Reaching for the wipes, he began the arduous task of scrubbing himself down, especially the areas he wished he could forget about.
His teeth brushed and his skin as clean as the circumstances allowed, he reached for a pair of his jeans. Slipping into them, he instantly realized the problem. They rode halfway up his shins, the once-fitting pair now mimicking jack-ups. His t-shirt an extra small was also a no-go, refusing to contain his expanded frame. He sheepishly stepped out of the tent, ready to share his dilemma, only to be met by Ellie's widened eyes and deep fiery shade of red as she took in his half-clad figure.
A self-aware glance over his physique might have explained the blush burning on Ellie's cheeks. Once a slender boy, Charlie's body now suggested athletic prowess and conditioning. His new muscular structure, while not overly ripped, was defined, and shadows hinted at the early formation of a six-pack on his abs. He looked like the kind of guy who frequented a gym a few times a week.
Charlie had also shot up in height. Standing over Ellie by a couple of inches, he estimated his new stature to be around 5 foot 10. Just three weeks prior, he'd been almost half a foot shorter. Passing off this metamorphosis as a late and unusually dramatic growth spurt would fool no one. Ellie's gentle hands ran over his injuries, pausing for an extended moment on his transformed chest. A flutter in his stomach made him wonder if she was appreciating the physical changes as much as he was. The soft blush on her face was quite telling. His own quick examination revealed a swath of yellowish bruising across his shoulder that seemed oddly mature for its young age. The colouration hinted at an old wound, not the fresh purples and blues of a recent injury.
Charlie approached the camp stove, his step sure and a grin playing on his face, a swagger in his walk that hadn't been there before. His stomach growled in a low and continuous rumble, yearning for the breakfast that teased his nostrils. Carter was the first to spot Charlie's changed appearance, his voice breaking through the tranquil dawn with an astonished laugh. "Jesus Christ, Charlie!" he shouted, his eyes wide as they raked over Charlie's transformed physique. "You look like you're ready for a GQ cover or something!"
Charlie saw Carter's gaze drop to his jeans, which were now embarrassingly short, leaving his ankles bare. Carter's amusement became full-fledged laughter. "Dude, did you raid the wardrobe of a ten-year-old or what?" The teasing, the laughter – it was all familiar and comforting. Charlie felt a warmth spread through him, realizing that no matter how much he had changed, he was still just Charlie to his friends.
With a playful smirk, Charlie shot back at Carter, "Nah, mate, your mom just shrank them in the wash after we, you know, got them messy." The words hung in the air, audacious and shocking, and then Carter's laughter erupted anew, even louder than before. Charlie felt a light smack on the back of his head and turned to see Ellie, her face showing mock disapproval but her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Boys," she mumbled, retreating to a camp chair, the corners of her mouth turning up in an exasperated smile.
Charlie slid into his chair, the savoury scent of a sausage sandwich greeting him as Ryan handed it over. The tangy brown sauce glistened, a promising flavour that made his stomach give an eager growl. He didn’t hesitate, taking a large bite and letting out an involuntary moan of pleasure. After days of bland MREs and going hours without food, the taste was heaven. He savoured the greasy, flavorful sausage, wolfing down the rest and pausing only when Ryan, ever the thoughtful brother, placed another one on his plate.
With the immediate need of hunger satisfied, a more complex problem nudged at Charlie's mind. He glanced at his friends, their faces expectant, and finally voiced the concern. "Guys, seriously, how am I going to explain this?" He gestured to his changed body, his voice tinged with genuine worry. "I don't think 'I had a growth spurt' is going to cut it for five inches in three weeks."
Silence settled over the group, heads tilting, eyes narrowing in thought. Suggestions were tossed about, some humorous, some serious, but all failed to provide a satisfactory answer. They wrestled with ideas for the next half hour, but every proposal seemed flawed. With a sigh, Charlie shelved the problem for later, deciding to feign ignorance if anyone questioned him. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was the best they could muster at the moment.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
The conversation shifted when Ryan, his brows furrowed, asked, "What now, Charlie? You go back into that dungeon for more levels?" Charlie felt a cold shudder at the thought. "No fucking chance," he asserted, his voice tinged with real fear. "That Leviathan thing... it scared the shit of me. I need a break."
He scanned the faces of his friends, reading their mixed expressions of understanding and curiosity. "I'm already at level 3. The experience from that dungeon will be minimal now. The only good XP would come from the Leviathan, and there's no way I'm ready for that."
His mood lifted as he shared the bright side. "But hey, I did get some perks. I got this title for releasing the Leviathan and surviving. Gives my stats a ten per cent boost." He grinned, disbelief creeping into his voice as he added, "I even snagged some extra attribute points for being the first person to clear level two. How in the hell am I first?"
Ryan's eyes widened, his face etching surprise. "First place?" he exclaimed. "What the fuck have the rest been doing then?"
Charlie shrugged, feeling a tinge of confusion himself. "No bloody clue. I was sure I'd be nowhere near the top five. That last dungeon? for me was bordering on impossible. Without that Leviathan, I'd never have made it, and even with it, I just about scraped through." He looked at his friends, seeing their faces lit with curiosity, eyes wide, mouths slightly open. They were hanging on his every word, and he knew he needed to explain further. The memory of the dungeon, with its lurking dangers and narrow escapes, made his voice drop an octave. "That's why I can't go back in. The risks are too bloody high, and the reward's just not worth it. I'm already at level 3, so the XP will be minimal. But the danger? That's still there. I don't think I could beat it without releasing the Leviathan again, and surviving it? That was sheer dumb luck."
Charlie leaned back, feeling a mix of relief and excitement as he changed the subject. "I want to do some normal stuff now, test out my skills on things I've never been able to do. Like a Ninja Warrior course? There's one less than thirty minutes away." His eyes met each of his friends', gauging their reactions. Ellie's face broke into an eager smile, "It would be good to do something normal for a day or so while we've got a chance."
Their laughter and the buzz of conversation filled the room, but something was tugging at Charlie's mind. Tyler. His best mate since primary school, the one he'd been avoiding lately. Guilt gnawed at him, twisting his insides. It wasn't fair to keep Tyler in the dark, not after everything they'd been through together. Tyler had been his rock during physiotherapy, his shield against bullies. Charlie owed him more than this evasion. He glanced at his friends, grateful for their support, but knowing he needed to make things right with Tyler. It was time to let him in on what was happening. It was the right thing to do, the only thing to do.
----------------------------------------
After arriving home about an hour earlier, Charlie faced a dilemma that had first struck him back in the cave: none of his clothes fit him anymore. The transformation had taken its toll on his wardrobe, turning every piece of clothing into an ill-fitting relic of a body that no longer existed. He had even been forced to walk out of the cave barefoot, the confines of his shoes having become unbearably tight. Now, his feet ached from the journey, and his frustration mounted with every failed attempt to find something wearable.
For the time being, his brother had lent him a baggy maroon-coloured hooded jumper and some black jogging bottoms which currently lay on his bed, the hoody oversized in hopes of concealing his sudden change in dimensions. The colour was off, the fit would be wrong, but it was all he had. Charlie caught his reflection in the mirror, squinting at his altered appearance. How long would it take someone to notice? He wondered, uncomfortable with the deception but recognizing its necessity.
Fortunately, Carter had turned out to be a saviour, sharing the same shoe size as the new Charlie. He had gone home to borrow a pair until Charlie could buy ones that fit. But the situation was ridiculous. Every level brought a new change in size, and Charlie knew that nothing would fit him again in a matter of weeks. His frustration was tempered only by the knowledge that the adjustable armour his brother had given him still fit. At least something did, he mused, a small comfort in the midst of an unsettling reality.
Charlie found himself caught by his reflection in the mirror. It was strange and exciting to see his newly transformed physique. His body had a look of toned strength about it, moderately filled-out pecs and a hint of abs that led to defined shoulders and biceps. He flexed his arms, feeling a thrill that he never thought he'd enjoy.
The thought of lifting weights had always left him feeling slightly queasy. He never understood his friend Tyler's obsession with the gym, dismissing it as something he'd never want for himself. But now, as he continued to flex and pose, he started to understand why. Looking good felt great. He even attempted a 3/4 back pose he'd seen in an Arnold Schwarzenegger bodybuilding documentary, pretending he was pumped and shredded.
Unfortunately, his moment of vanity was interrupted when Ryan and Carter decided to enter his room at precisely the wrong time. All three of them froze for a moment, the awkwardness of the situation thick in the air. Charlie's face flushed red, but he was too mortified to move, still stuck holding the pose. Time froze, and then Ryan and Carter's faces broke into uncontrollable, gut-wrenching laughter. It was the kind of laughter that takes over the whole body, doubling them over as they clutched their stomachs, tears streaming down their faces. They laughed so hard they could barely breathe, every attempt to speak interrupted by another wave of hilarity.
"What the... Charlie?" Carter finally managed to gasp, snapping a picture on his phone.
Charlie's face turned a deep shade of red, but as he looked at his friends' joyous faces, he couldn't help but join in. Their laughter was contagious, and soon all three of them were caught in the kind of deep, pure laughter that comes from the gut and doesn't let go. The room echoed with their mirth, each of them feeding off the others, the laughter rolling on and on until they were all breathless and wiping tears from their eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, have your fun," Charlie finally managed, still chuckling. "Just wait until I really get ripped, then we'll see who's laughing."
As Charlie wriggled into the borrowed outfit, the edges of his lips still twitching from suppressed laughter, he threw a cocky glance at Carter and Ryan. "You know, I'm suddenly feeling the urge to prove a point. Twenty quid says I can outrun you on the course." Carter's eyebrows shot up, amusement clear in his eyes. "Oi, Charlie, you might be feeling all buff and fast now, but you've lost the plot if you think you can beat me. I've been running that course for ages. Hand over the cash now; save yourself the embarrassment."
Ever the big brother, Ryan leaned lazily against the doorframe, observing the interaction. He tossed Charlie a plain white gym shirt, eyes rolling in amusement. "Would you two quit your bickering? Charlie, once you're done showing Carter how it's done, we've got to get you some new threads. My wardrobe can only take so much of your 'growing pains', and if you start nicking my gear for your dungeon runs, they’ll be ruined in no time!"
Carter feigned a huff, eyebrows raised in mock indignation at Ryan’s obvious side-taking. "Bloody hell, traitor!" he exclaimed. "Alright then, game on. But first, let's swing by and grab Ellie. And we should check on Tyler; feels like we haven't seen him in forever."