SUBURBAN LEGENDZ: Imagine That

 

 

 “What the fuck bro?!?” Roberto Delacruz stared at the movie he was only passively watching as he gamed on his switch. Pringles that missed his mouth sat smashed on his leg, a cold Pepsi in hand. He was dumbfounded at what he saw on his screen.

—

There are suburbs out there that when night falls, light fails. The streetlights are as effective as a glowstick. The moon cannot serve a guide, only a witness. Those are places where the wind howls stronger, animals stir restlessly, and shadows hang just a second too long. The people who live there never notice the oddities, but newcomers are often off put until they either adapt or flee. Most are fine. But this isn’t a story about most.

Tonight was about more than a suburb, however. It was about a promise. Benito Martinez had been promised by his older brother, Matthias, they’d watch a horror movie tonight, alongside Matthias’ friends. The older teen had even dug out their dad’s old VCR.  An old cassette tape sat on the coffee table. A piece of media that seemed out of place even in the quiet backlogs of county living. 

Benito only caught glimpses of it as his brother set the VCR. He sat on the couch, kicking his feet staring at the tape. 

 

“Imagine That?” Bentio asked, as his brother reached behind the TV, "What's it about?” The boy grabbed the tape and box. The cover art was a kid running with an arrow pointing toward a large muscular, naked man running in front of him. All black set against a stark white background. He flipped it over, nothing on the back. Blank. No summary or pictures to explain.

“Not sure. I found it in my room. I think Dad left it for me or something? Didn’t mention it though. Definitely wasn’t mom. When I looked it up online, people said the watching experience was intense. Mom thinks cussing it too much, she’d probably flip over this.” 

Benito looked back at the title. Imagine That. The way it was phrased, with the period inserted, felt more like a statement. Was he supposed to imagine what the cover art was showing? What did it mean? There was a tug on his brain, as he got lost in trying to understand the art’s meaning.
The doorbell rang and broke the spell Benito was under.

Matthias stood up wiping his clothes off. He had finished setting up. His walk to the door was quick as the visitor started pounding.

“I heard you the first time!” Matthias swung the door open, one of his friends standing there.

“Dude, we’ve got to go right now! Kylie is throwing a party tonight. You know the one with the massive…” made a double hand motion in front of his chest Benito didn’t understand.

Sucking his teeth, Matthais rubbed the back of his head, “You know I can't, my parents practically barred me from leaving the house whenever they're out. Also, Benito’s here.”

Matthias’ friend sighed, setting a hand on Matthias’ shoulder, “Stop being stupid, man. A party like this only comes around once in a lifetime. You gotta grab it by the horns.”

The car in front of the Martinez house honked its horn; more of Matthias' friends inside. “Guys come on, we're missing out.”

“Okay, Okay,” Mathias nodded his head. His friends cheered as the others returned to the car. The older brother walked his younger brother back to the couch

“Benito. I’m going to pop out for an hour or two—-

“But you promised.”

“I know,” he held up his hands apologizing, “But this is Kylie, I have to go. And in return.” He tapped Benito’s leg, “I’ll let you watch this movie while I’m out. Then you can tell me all about it when I’m back. Sound fair?”

“I guess,” Benito pouted. Knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do to change Matthias mind.

“Great, you're the best, little brother.” Matthias disappeared into the kitchen, bringing out some popcorn and juice he had started to prepare. Then he placed the tape in the VCR and told Benito how to start it, before he took off, switching off the lights and hopping into his friend's car speeding away.
Benito sat there mad. He didn’t want to watch the movie alone, but the box art was there, lit by the glow of the TV. The art made his mind race over what it was about. Standing up, he walked to the TV and pressed play.

In any other place, who knows what the tape might have done. An artifact is not meant for the setting.  A strange and unusual crossover in time and space. Darkness scratched against the house. Or was it the bare tree branches? Benito sat huddled up on the couch, legs to his chest.

All he had to do was imagine that. 

The cover art.

In those dark distant suburbs, one unspoken rule reigned supreme: Never watch a horror movie alone. Self-preservation perhaps? This VHS tape, whatever it was, had bypassed that. And though its cover made no promises about the film’s genre, Benito had already been promised a horror movie. The boy watched the tape and the darkness of the suburbs melded with the darkness in his house.

Benito changed.

A small start. First his posture relaxed. He opened up his body, legs dangling arms, at his side. Next, like a rope being pulled in two directions, his spine and legs grew as his height increased. His white T-shirt dyed itself black soaking in the darkness, the material getting thicker. A burgeoning chest, flirted with bursting the shirt until it split into two halves. Nipples, bare, dark and brown poked out. His pajamas pants were tight on his crotch, having turned black as well. There was no ‘flirting’ with ripped seams there as his thighs simply destroyed the bottoms, hairy tree trunks finding freedom. The remaining half around his crotch morphed into tight briefs, only made skimpy by the size of his lower half. Benito’s feet swelled but stayed encased in his new dark socks, feet several times their size. Calves comfortably pushed the cotton to its limit.

Then there was his hair. His helmet of curls stylized themselves with invisible products, producing a stronger sheen to catch the TV’s light. Benito’s face morphed, jaw jutting down, cheekbones manipulating how light reflected off. His lips plumped. Kissable. Irresistible. Facial hair took root above his lip and on his chin, as his eyebrow competed in thickness. His T-shirt completed its transition into a dark Letterman jacket. A man now knows where Benito once existed.

—

“What the fuck bro?!?” Roberto Delacruz stared at the movie he was only passively watching as he gamed on his switch. Pringles that missed his mouth sat smashed on his leg, a cold Pepsi in hand. He was dumbfounded at what he saw on his screen.

He was watching a movie about the horrors of the suburbs. In it the main character had just transformed into…Roberto himself? The house had also just warped into Roberto’s place. He was watching himself watch the movie, in a feedback loop. He looked at the box art. It had changed. His face was on it. He couldn’t remember what it was before, but it sure as hell wasn’t him.

He snatched the cover, sleeve up, flipping it around, and read the back:

“Little Benito Martinez never thought he’d be cast in the lead role for SUBURBAN LEGENDZ: Imagine That. On a cold fall’s night Benito’s big brother abandons him, leaving the younger male with a mysterious VHS tape. Curious and foolish, he plays the tape of unknown origin into the VCR. As the boy watches he grows and changes into the thick and studly, Roberto Delacruz. Roberto Delacruz is our himbo hero with more muscles and cum for brains than sense. After watching a cursed tape alone in the desolate suburbs, will his ass… and cock be on the line to help the movie make a killing?”

 Roberto got up rolling his eyes, making the VCR eject the tape. The dumb thing was stupid anyway, so much for a vintage movie night. His friends had probably fucked with his shit somehow. He tossed the cassette on the table and sat his toned fat ass back on the couch. Arms spread, reclining, he stared at the scene that lay in front of him.

His face was even on the tape’s title sticker. He leaned over and peered at the sleeve’s spine; there was even an image of him posing. What the hell, he wasn’t some dumb jock. What did this cover know? God forbid if he had to empty his nuts into a waiting mouth, he didn’t know that was a crime. Hell, if he was the main character he’d give the bad guy a major pounding. And if the guy was as sexy as the one in the cover, he was sure his ass could crush the guy's hips after riding them… or his cock could pummel that ass until the dude was unable to walk. Roberto shook his head, why was he letting what was obviously a prank get to him?

He stood up stretching, flexing his biceps, he didn't worry with guns like his. He kissed them. All that talk about trying to make the suburbs sound scary? Stupid as shit. Roberto looked outside at the dark beyond his window, chuckling; it wasn't all that. He went upstairs to take a shower, he’d deal with his friends and that tape in the morning. Right now, he wanted to stroke his meat to the stud that had gotten him hot. The water turned on and Roberto got in washing himself, but truly wanted to get to the good part where he could masturbate. His hand wrapped around his dick the slow first stroke sending shivers through his body. Like a stranger was touching him already. He moved again, hips grinding, finding the motion.

The house creaked, Roberto noticed, but didn’t stop on the edge of losing his senses.

A footstep pressed in his hallway. 

That made Roberto freeze. He turned off the water. Listening. Pissed, his goon sesh was interrupted. He reached for a towel.

Roberto wasn’t a fucking pussy; he charged out the bathroom to confront whichever one of his friends has set up this entire elaborate night to fuck with him. They were going to get their asses handed to them. Charging out, towel flapping open from its loose tying, he came face to face with a guy stepping out of the shadows.

 

The intruder entered pecs first, wide and sizable, like fucking tits. Women were probably jealous of the pair he was sporting.  His abs were cut like stone, arms just as formidable as Roberto’s. The stranger was in nothing but tight briefs, skull crushing things flanking both sides. A hint of the peachiest ass, showing. A 6’3” adonis walked through the hallway, headed only one way.

Roberto's cock tented out his towel. It was fuck or die.

—

Everyone at Kylie’s party sat around watching the movie, as Roberto lured the masked guy to his bedroom. No one made a sound as if they were scared to give Roberto’s location away behind the door.

Kylie happened to find the old tape and had it playing in the background, but everyone at the party slowly found themselves walking over to watch it. They were enraptured. Mathias was the only one who seemed confused when an actor that looked exactly like him showed up in the movie with his name, wearing even the clothing he was now. The only difference was Matthias didn’t have a younger brother.

Everyone huddled, a few even flinched, as Roberto fucked for his life. There were cheers going as he pummeled the stranger’s prostrate. The intruder’s fat 10 in cock leaked all over the place, unwanting to get away form it’s fucking. Would have been instant death in the reverse positions. The man beneath Roberto moaned, though it was more like a groan as his cock unloaded between them both jettisoning nut everywhere.

The party cheered and evil was defeated. Crème de la Cruz deposited up its sexy ass. Applause all around. All together like this the horror movie wasn’t even all that scary. 

Outside, the trees rustled, the wind howled, and darkness pulsed all around, ignored by the party. 

Whatever it had tried to enact though the strange tape was negated. Was it a consequence of the tape itself or something more? 

No worries, there’d always be more chances and always someone new to play with, when night came again in the suburbs.