Kehl Consequences: Part Three

The deep, restorative sleep Kehl had craved was abruptly shattered. He was vaguely aware of his massive chest rising and falling, the soft mattress a welcome cradle for his powerful frame and the substantial, rounded curve of his belly. For hours, the only sounds in the room had been his quiet respirations and the occasional creak of the bedsprings.

Then, his eyes snapped open, not to the gentle stirring of his own body, but to an insistent internal prod.

“Wake up, sleepyhead, ” Kehl Senior’s voice echoed in his mind, sharp and impatient. “How long are you going to luxuriate in the enemy’s den? It’s time to get moving.”

Kehl groaned, the sound a low rumble in his broad chest. “Mmm, just a little longer, okay?” he mumbled mentally, his thoughts still thick with sleep. He tried to roll over onto his other side, his bulk making it a deliberate effort.

A smirk seemed to color Kehl Senior’s mental tone. “Let’s try something a little more… persuasive.”

Suddenly, a sharp, almost electric pain lanced through Kehl’s stomach, making him gasp and arch his back. He shot upright in bed, clutching his belly, his heart hammering. “Enough! Stop it!” he mentally yelled, glaring at nothing. The pain subsided as quickly as it had come, leaving a phantom ache.

“Well, well, Sleeping Beauty awakens properly this time, ” Kehl Senior’s voice resonated, laced with its usual sardonic amusement. 

Kehl scowled, rubbing his still-tender abdomen. “What was that for? And what do you mean, ‘enemy’s den’? It’s my house.”

Kehl Senior chuckled, a dry, humorless sound in his head. “Relax, Junior. Just ensuring you didn’t dally. Your loving parents, and their associates, aren’t likely to take a holiday from hunting you. Now, up and at ‘em. Wash up, find something practical in that closet. Those  pants won’t do for an active day.”

Muttering under his breath about manipulative inner demons, Kehl swung his powerful legs off the bed. He stretched, his massive shoulders and back muscles rippling under his blue skin, his tail thumping softly against the floor. He padded into the en-suite bathroom and stood before the mirror. The shark-man stared back — teal hair tousled, sharp teeth glinting, glasses slightly askew. He washed his face, the cool water helping to clear the last vestiges of sleep.

“So, where are my clean swimming trunks?” he thought, rummaging through a drawer. “Aha, found them.” He pulled out a fresh pair of sturdy, black athletic trunks. As he changed, he grumbled, “Damn, this belly. It’s impressive, sure, but it gets in the way sometimes. Makes me a little clumsy and awkward still.” His hands instinctively went to the firm, rounded expanse, feeling its unique, resilient texture.

“Nonsense, ” Kehl Senior interjected smoothly. “I had a choice, you know. Could have given you those ridiculous, chiseled ‘six-pack’ abs humans covet. Or, I could give you true power, a proper core, a gut filled with muscle and potential. I chose the latter. It’s more massive, more imposing. And you still have all the definition where it counts. It’s a statement.”

Kehl had to admit, as he looked at his reflection, the sheer presence his new physique commanded was undeniable. “Yeah, well, it looks pretty good, I guess, ” he conceded, adjusting the waistband of his trunks over the curve of his stomach.

“Good? It’s magnificent!” Kehl Senior declared. “Now, if you’re quite done admiring yourself, let me take the wheel for a bit. We need fuel.” Before Kehl could mentally protest, he felt that familiar, disconcerting sensation of his own control receding, his limbs moving with a purpose that wasn’t entirely his own.

Kehl Senior, now in the driver’s seat of their shared body, walked with a confident, almost predatory stride towards the kitchen. “So, what’s for breakfast, or rather, what can we concoct for optimal energy intake?” he mused aloud, Kehl’s voice carrying the demon’s inflection.

He began pulling items from the pantry and fridge with surprising familiarity — tubs of protein powder, a large container of mass gainer Kehl vaguely remembered buying during a particularly desperate phase of his muscle-building attempts, some frozen fruit, and a few other nutrient-dense ingredients.

“What’s all this?” Kehl asked internally, watching his own hands work with swift efficiency.

“This, my dear boy, will help us — or rather, you — recharge your considerable energy reserves for the whole day. Think of it as super-fuel for a supercar.”

Kehl Senior started mixing everything in a ridiculously oversized blender pitcher that Kehl usually only used for large experimental batches. The whir of the blender filled the kitchen. In moments, it was done. “Ready!”

A thick, slightly ominous-looking concoction filled the pitcher. “What is this? And how much is in there? That looks like a lot, even for me now.”

“Nonsense. Try some.” Kehl Senior, still in control, picked up the pitcher. It was indeed enormous.

“There must be several gallons in there!” Kehl exclaimed in his mind.

Without hesitation, Kehl Senior tilted the pitcher back and began to drink, Kehl experiencing the sensation of the thick, nutrient-rich liquid pouring down his throat in an unending stream. Gulp, gulp, gulp. He drank without stopping, his powerful throat working, his large belly visibly distending slightly as it accommodated the incredible volume. Finally, with a deep, resonant buuurp that echoed through the kitchen, Kehl Senior lowered the nearly empty pitcher.

“Well, how does it taste, Junior?”

Kehl, regaining a measure of control as Kehl Senior seemed to relax, felt a surprising warmth spread through him, a surge of energy. His stomach felt incredibly full, taut like a drum, but not uncomfortable. “It’s… definitely not bad, ” he admitted, looking down at his now even more impressively rounded stomach. “But that was… a lot. Seriously.”

“Efficiency, Kehl. Efficiency. Now, let’s go for a walk. Stretch those magnificent legs.”

Still feeling the potent effects of the super-shake, Kehl (now mostly himself again) went out onto the balcony. The morning air was cool and fresh. With an easy leap, he landed softly on the sand below. “What should I do now?” he said aloud, adjusting his glasses, the world seeming sharper, more vibrant.

“We have the whole beach to ourselves! Explore! Enjoy your power!”

As Kehl began to walk along the shoreline, his large, clawed feet leaving deep impressions in the wet sand, he noticed a solitary figure in the distance, near the old pier where his family used to spend time. “There’s someone there. I’ll go check it out.” He squinted, adjusting his glasses again.

Time seemed to stretch as he covered the distance with long, powerful strides. As he drew closer, his breath hitched. He recognized the set of the shoulders, the way her hair caught the light.

His mother.

“Mom?” he whispered, then louder, a hopeful tremor in his voice, “Mom!” He started to move towards her, a dozen conflicting emotions swirling within him.

“Stop!” Kehl Senior’s voice was a steel command in his head. “Are you a fool? They’re not good for you. They betrayed you. Have you forgotten their threats already? This could be a trap! They’ll take you away, dissect you, try to turn you back into that… thing you were!”

Kehl hesitated, torn. “No, I don’t think so… She’s alone. I have to…”

“Wait, you don’t understand the danger!” Kehl Senior tried to wrest control, but Kehl, fueled by a desperate hope and the sheer need to connect, pushed back with surprising mental force.

He managed to suppress Kehl Senior’s immediate influence, though the demon’s angry protests still echoed in his mind. He decided on a different approach, something to break the ice, something… playful? He crept up from behind her, his large frame moving with surprising silence on the sand. He drew himself up to his full, imposing height, puffed out his already massive chest and belly, and tried to make a scary face, baring his sharp teeth in what he hoped was a mock snarl.

“BOO!” he roared, his voice deeper and more resonant than he intended.

Elena screamed, a raw, terrified sound, spinning around. Her eyes were wide with fear, and in a purely reflexive, panicked motion, she lashed out with something small and metallic she’d been clutching. A sharp, searing pain shot through Kehl’s left foot. He looked down to see a small, elegant letter opener — one he recognized from his father’s desk — embedded in the top of his thick, blue-skinned foot.

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Kehl Senior’s rage exploded through Kehl, overriding him completely. Kehl’s hand shot out, yanking the letter opener free with a wet squelch. Blood, darker than human, welled for a second before the wound began to visibly seal, skin and muscle knitting back together at an astonishing rate.

Regeneration, Kehl thought with a detached sense of awe, even as Kehl Senior’s fury consumed him. Cool. That means no more cuts or blows will last.

“YOU DARE?!” Kehl Senior bellowed, using Kehl’s voice, his face contorted into a truly terrifying snarl, eyes blazing. “I SWEAR I’LL BITE YOUR DAMN HEAD OFF!” He took a menacing step towards the trembling Elena.

Then, just as suddenly, Kehl wrestled back control, the image of his mother’s genuine terror cutting through the borrowed rage. “No! No, Mom, I’m sorry!” he cried, his own voice returning, laced with panic and regret. He rushed forward, carefully, and enveloped her in a hug, his massive, muscular arms surprisingly gentle. “It wasn’t me… I mean, the yelling… I’m sorry, I just said it… I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Elena was stiff in his embrace for a moment, then she sagged against him, her body trembling. She hugged him back, her face buried in his broad, blue chest, though she looked up at him with a strange, haunted expression. “Oh, Kehl… Kehl… what have you become, my boy?” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “We’ve lost you. I’ve lost you.”

Kehl held her, his own eyes stinging. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m fine. Really. I’m healthy, strong… full of strength.” He patted his own firm, rounded belly self-consciously.

She pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes, her gaze still searching his transformed features. 

Elena sighed, a deep, sorrowful sound. “This beach… it’s always been so dear to me. It’s ours. Yours, mine, your father’s… we always spent time here. So many good memories.” Her voice broke. “It’s a shame we’ll never be able to again… not like before.” She looked out at the waves, then back at him, her expression a painful mix of love and fear. “Your father… he’s looking for you, Kehl. Actively. His people, the Institute security, they’re all mobilized. Our lab is on high alert.” Her voice dropped. “He wants to turn you back, Kehl. He’s convinced it’s the only way.”

Kehl’s newfound hope faltered. He sank down onto the sand, tucking his powerful legs under him, his tail curling beside him. “I don’t want to go back, Mom. I can’t.”

Elena sat beside him, her hand tentatively stroking his broad, muscular back. The gesture was hesitant, as if she were touching a wild, unpredictable creature, yet there was a deep maternal tenderness in it. “There may be no choice, my love, ” she said softly. “You have to understand, from his perspective… from the world’s perspective… you’re an unknown. A risk.” She sighed. “According to protocol, I have to call this in. Report your location.”

Kehl looked at her frantically, his heart sinking. Betrayal, again?

Elena met his gaze, and he saw the conflict, the pain in her eyes. She reached for her phone, then paused. “I’ll tell them you were heading north, up the coast. Give you some time.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “But you can’t run forever, Kehl! They will find you. Eventually.” She cupped his transformed cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle. “But know this, no matter what you look like, no matter what they say… you’ll always be my son. My kind, brilliant little boy is still in there somewhere.”

Kehl stood up, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the morning light. He looked at his mother, a profound sadness in his eyes. He wanted to say so much, but the words wouldn’t come. He simply nodded, then turned and walked towards the water. At the edge, where the waves lapped at his clawed feet, he turned back one last time and offered her a small, sad smile, raising a clawed hand in a wave. Then, with a powerful surge, his body disappeared beneath the surface, leaving only ripples behind.

Vortex Institute Laboratory: That Same Day, Evening.

Director Marcus Vortex stood ramrod straight, his face a mask of grim determination as he addressed the head of his security division in the sterile, white operations room. Charts and satellite images flickered across a large display screen.

“He must be caught, ” Marcus stated, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “No matter what it takes. He’s dangerous, unpredictable. A threat to himself and potentially to others.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “He is no longer my son. The Kehl I knew… he wasn’t like this. He wasn’t arrogant, self-centered, or insolent. My son was smart, polite, kind.” His voice cracked almost imperceptibly on the last word.

He turned to another white-coated employee, a senior geneticist. “The baseline DNA… my son’s original human genetic markers. We still have them cryo-preserved, correct?”

“Yes, Director Vortex, ” the geneticist confirmed, looking uneasy. “But the retro-viral agent required to attempt a sequence reversion… it’s highly experimental. The trauma to his system, given the extent of the current transformation… he may not survive the process.”

Marcus Vortex stared at the image of Puget Sound on the screen, his reflection a ghostly overlay. “We’ll try anyway.”

Kehl’s Cave: Moments Later

The cold, dark waters of Puget Sound were a familiar cloak as Kehl swam with desperate speed, his powerful tail propelling him through the murky depths. The encounter with his mother, her fear, her love, her warning, all churned within him, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. He reached the hidden entrance to his cave, dove to the sandy bottom, and shot inside, the familiar gloom a scant comfort.

He surfaced in the air pocket of his subterranean lair, gasping, not for air, but from the turmoil within. “What’s going on?!” he mentally screamed, his body trembling. He felt a terrifying lack of agency, as if his own limbs were no longer entirely his. He clenched his massive, blue-skinned fists, claws digging into his palms. “I can’t control myself! That rage… it wasn’t all mine!”

“TAKE CONTROL OF BODY!” Kehl Senior’s voice erupted in his mind, no longer amused or persuasive, but utterly furious, a psychic roar that made Kehl stagger. He surged forward, seizing complete command. Kehl felt himself become a passenger, trapped within his own skull, watching his body move with a terrifying, alien power.

“YOU DISOBEYED ME!” Kehl Senior bellowed, using Kehl’s vocal cords, the sound echoing off the damp cave walls. Kehl’s (or rather, Kehl Senior’s) eyes blazed with an icy fire. “WHY DIDN’T YOU OBEY?! I WARNED YOU! I KNOW WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU, KEHL! ALWAYS!”

Driven by a furious energy, Kehl Senior stalked through the cave. His gaze fell upon a huge, algae-slicked boulder, one Kehl had previously struggled to even nudge. With a guttural snarl, Kehl Senior wrapped Kehl’s powerful arms around it, muscles bulging across his chest, back, and the thick, rounded expanse of his belly. He lifted the immense weight with a grunt, the strain evident even on his transformed physique, and began to perform raw, powerful curls, as if to burn off the excess rage. Each repetition was a punctuated display of the raw power Kehl now possessed.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THE POTENTIAL YOU ARE SQUANDERING!” Kehl Senior seethed, veins standing out on Kehl’s thick neck. “YOU COULD BECOME THE KING OF THIS SEA! A RULER OF THE DEEP! POWERFUL! UNTOUCHABLE!” With a final, explosive effort, he heaved the boulder across the cave, sending it crashing against the far wall with a sound like thunder, dislodging smaller stones.

He stood there, Kehl’s massive chest heaving, gills flaring. “YOUR PATHETIC HUMAN FEELINGS… YOUR SENTIMENTALITY… THEY WILL DESTROY YOU! They are weaknesses! Chains binding you to a past you should have shed like dead skin!”

With these words, Kehl Senior strode with a regal, almost arrogant gait to the crude throne of coral and stone Kehl had constructed. He sank onto it, Kehl’s body settling into a posture of absolute command and power. His clawed hands, now under the demon’s complete control, came to rest possessively, almost thoughtfully, on the impressive, firm curve of Kehl’s muscular, rounded stomach, as depicted in the artwork you shared — a symbol of the raw, untamed power and unique physique Kehl Senior had cultivated.

Kehl Senior stared out into the dim recesses of the cave, a chillingly confident, predatory smirk playing on Kehl’s lips. The glasses, still perched on Kehl’s snout, seemed to glint with a cold, calculating light. The internal battle was far from over; in fact, it had just entered a dangerous new phase.