The working out went great over the rest of the week. I was feeling healthier, I was eating healthier, I was gaining muscle mass and I was no longer underweight. I was improving so quickly it made my head spin. I was overjoyed.
It was the other stuff that wasn’t so good.
It started with dreams. They weren’t that bad, I guess, just… strange. In them, I was a warrior. I was strong and tall and powerful. It was the power that was so intoxicating, at least as the beginning of the dreams. But then, I’d start to feel as though I was losing control. My muscles would grow and grow and grow until they were too big. Eventually, they would burst and I would explode in a hailstorm of viscera.
If it were just the dreams, it wouldn’t have bothered me so much. But it didn’t stop there.
The next thing I noticed had to do with my fingernails. They grew. I mean, okay, fingernails are supposed to do that. But they aren’t supposed to grow so FAST. I’d clip them in the morning, and by that afternoon I’d have a full inch extending beyond the flesh of my fingers. My hair followed suit. It went from my shoulders to the middle of my back in one afternoon.
Weird. But I wasn’t ready to admit that something was wrong. My life was better than it had ever been, oddities or not.
I was beginning to rethink my convictions by the time the 7th of January, the end of the first week, rolled around. Everything was growing. My teeth were the most troublesome – I couldn’t even shut my mouth all the way because they were so long. And pointy. I was starting to feel like a vampire or werewolf or something. My eyelashes had grown out and I actually had to trim them. Weird, I know. My fingers and toes were growing longer. I was sure that I was taller. Muscle mass wasn’t the only thing I was gaining from these formulas.
I decided to ask George at that day’s session. I got to the gym early, hoping that he’d have a little time to talk before we started our session.