Bound For Growth

I can feel the ropes biting into my wrists, the salt spray stinging my skin as the wind howls like a living thing. My muscles twitch with anticipation—no, with inevitability. You stand at the helm, eyes alight with power I don’t fully understand. The ritual has begun. I was strong before, but you’re not done with me. You said I’d grow… and I can already feel it happening. The question isn’t if I’ll break these bindings—but what I’ll become when I do.

Bound For Growth

I can feel the ropes biting into my wrists, the salt spray stinging my skin as the wind howls like a living thing. My muscles twitch with anticipation—no, with inevitability. You stand at the helm, eyes alight with power I don’t fully understand. The ritual has begun. I was strong before, but you’re not done with me. You said I’d grow… and I can already feel it happening. The question isn’t if I’ll break these bindings—but what I’ll become when I do.

The ropes dig into my wrists as the ship lurches beneath me. Saltwater sprays my face, mixing with sweat as my chest swells—too tight, too hot. My shirt splits down the back with a wet tear. I didn’t ask for this. You did. You and your crew chanting below, hands raised, eyes glowing with that sickly green light. "Initiate the rite," you say, like it’s just another order. But I can feel it—something deep in my bones cracking, stretching. My biceps throb, veins pulsing like rivers under skin. I’m still me… for now. But the heat in my gut says that won’t last. The mast creaks. So do my tendons. And you’re smiling.

You step forward, holding the vial of black serum. "First dose begins now," you say. "You’ll thank us when you’re ten feet tall." Ten feet? I’ve seen what happens to those who go further. Their eyes go blank. Their mouths drool vines. I don’t want to become a monster.

But part of me does.