Excerpt: Citizen 357

And then stuff started to get weird.

Stand.

I stood up. Without thinking about it. Hell, without doing it. My body moved without my brain telling it to. Like I had suddenly been hijacked. What the hell?

Where my locker had been there was now a gaping hole. And in that hole stood a man. He was about seven feet tall and as thick as a tree. But he was…wrong. His torso was thick and broad. His arms nearly dragged on the ground and his legs were short and crooked. He looked more like a gorilla than a man. He was wearing one of those generic tough-guy wardrobes; a tight exercise shirt and slacks.

Wait, what? A t-shirt? In November? How is that possible?

I didn’t get another chance to think about that, because Kong began to walk. The floor shook every time he placed one of his oversized feet down. As he came into closer view, I began to notice how much uglier he actually was. His neck and chin molded together into a mass of skin. Each of the muscles in his arms was as big as bowling ball. He was bald and his eyes sunk deep into his skull. He had a jaw that looked like it could fit my skull inside and I’m sure he could easily do it.

And then he trained his beady eyes on me. And growled. If I were any less manly I might have wet myself.

Hulk raised one gigantic fist into the air and slammed it down, sledgehammer style.

I figured the last sound I would hear would be my innards splattering.

Instead, I dived to one side, rolled, and sprang back to my feet.

What the hell?

Hulk’s mallet hand hit cheap carpet instead of nice, ripe teenager. That made Hulk angry. And, as we all know, you won’t like him when he’s angry.