When You're Down (Anthony)

Someone had broken into the gym to do some late night weight lifting. "One thousand one hundred and twenty seven...one thousand one hundred and twenty eight..." a voice echoed with ever increasing numbers. It appeared somebody was a bit of a fitness freak. The gym was the logical place for this sort of person. It was every bit indicative of someone looking to pop a few vessels. This was just sad though. For hours did this person go on and go with weight lifting. The behavior was getting to be so much of an addiction to the point where they would avoid their personal nutrition needs if at all possible. Even when someone were to catch this muscle lover inside of the room there they would be with a weight set and pumping iron. Those dumbbells were being raped with attention. Curling up and down did they travel. Over and over again. Sweat was in such abundance where the poor towel that had the ordeal of dealing with such a supply of body secretions wasn't to be envied. Finally, the weight dropped to the ground.

The amount of weight put onto the exercising tool would immediately spark a shrink's conversation push. This was, without a doubt, an addiction worse than what a crack addict had to deal with on a daily basis. Just one dumbbell carried over a hundred pounds and this was a woman here. It wasn't natural. Not even for some men. How could someone that didn't have muscles that were huge do so many repetitions with such poundage? It was unhealthy to continue this. The poor girl was tearing her body apart and didn't care that she was. Veins on her arms were in a gang that could make even the mafia feel out numbered. The heart was going at a high pace, eyes wide open as if she were doing some illegal substance and a huffing breathing sound kept her in pace with her now lifting the same weight with the other hand. There was no stopping. No rest. No idea that possibly, just maybe, only potentially, she was already strong enough to be better than most her age.

"I'm not strong enough! I'm not!" she shouted. As she hurled the bell across the room, smashed the mirror she was staring at and stood up the image of her ripped body appeared. It was Reiko yet again. She was pounding her body and taking it through hell ever since she got to Los Angeles. The images of her being treated like crap if she didn't look like a muscle pumped freak infiltrated her mind with an instant. As soon as that happened she went into a rage. The weight room to the gymnasium was huge with all sorts of leg, arm, core and neck machines to build up muscle. That wasn't a good thing. It left a lot of things for Reiko to hurl around with her anger. She picked up one of the benching bars that had a little over one hundred and forty pounds on it and chugged it into the side door. Her fists pounded themselves into the brick wall with cracking sounds from her jamming one of her fingers. At this point pain didn't even come to her. She didn't feel any. The more torture she put her body through the better as far as she was concerned.

Those purple sweat pants, ripped sleeve black shirt and black Nike runners came out of the weight room with the owner of the clothing having a frown on her face. By now, her sabers were completely healed from her marathon sessions in the simulation room. Tears came down her face. She was crying because her biceps weren't bulging enough. To her, it was unfair that she was born a woman because, in her opinion, men would never have such problems getting big arms. Nothing told her that she was perfect just the way she was. Hell, she was already surpassing a human at the climax of human abilities. No, it just wasn't good enough. Even if she got the muscles she was looking for it still wouldn't be enough. There was no definition of perfection in her opinion. No one should accept who they are or at least that's how Reiko feels. She thought that nothing about her would be good enough to anyone but, more importantly, herself.

Reiko walked over to her gym bag outside of the weight room and pulled out a small case full of needles already full of some strange liquid. It was steroids. Never had she even considered going to this level. "I don't have a choice..." she said to herself as she started opening the container. She had no idea what it would do to her. It was meant for humans. She wasn't human. But at this point this was a battle of survival for Reiko. In the wild, a shark would want to be big and would be upset if it weren't. After all, the biggest threats were typically the most dominant. To Reiko, her father would've never abused her, the government would've never tried to lock her away and nobody would have the balls to call her a freak if she were big and scary looking enough.