A Little Competition Never Harmed Anyone, Right?
A day at the gym gets a little fierce when Emmett gets in a heated competition with a local. Will his inhuman strength reveal too much? Or will Emmett dominate the day and prove once again, there is only one Emmett. One shot. EMPOV.
Emmett couldn't help but crack a smile in front of his admiring audience. He pushed the weights out in front of him without breaking a sweat. It wasn't like he even had the ability to sweat, that was strictly a human malady.
Several guys had gathered around him in the stuffy fitness center, gasping and staring in wonder at the beast before them. Emmett added another fifty pounds to the press and continued on. He usually stopped by the gym on weekends, of course he could have lifted a great deal more – but he decided it was best not to raise the suspicion.
"This guy is a joke, I could easily bench press more," a smug voice said from behind him.
Emmett tensed, absolutely no way could a dainty human overpower me. He sat up to get a better look at his assailant. One of the regular protein bar junkies that hung around the gym trying to impress girls with his "buns of steel." Emmett had seen him before. He was a stocky guy, really short, but he did have muscles. Although, his muscles were only human muscles, which stood no chance to the true strength a vampire could resort to when in need.
A smile flicked over Emmet's features. "You think you can lift more then me? What's your name, kid?"
The group of Emmetts' fans laughed at the insult, snickering amongst themselves.
"It's Ian, and watch your mouth buddy, I eat guys like you for breakfast."
"Oh really, because I just drink their blood." Emmett walked towards Ian and with just his pinky fingered pushed him in the chest. Ian stumbled back about five feet.
Ian did the equivalent of a TNT bomb collapsing a shaft mine. His face bunched up, his whole body bulged with veins, and a grunt escaped his mouth. His hair was shaved into a buzz cut, so Emmett could see the veins pulsing through his head through the short stubble of dark brown hair.
Keeping his cool, Emmett backed off. Just a single punch and Emmett could tear this guys head off.
"Well, let's see who is really the king of this gym? Little friendly competition never harmed anyone, right?" Well, usually it never harms anyone, he thought to himself.
"Yeah, watch me kick your ass." Ian had a lisp and the "ss" sound slithered off of his tongue and resulted in a shower of spit over some of the onlookers.
A few people stepped back with clearly disgusted features. A few slender girls cycling walked over to see the entertainment.
Ian put on a yellow Nike sweatband, to match his yellow tight gym shorts that bunched up around the back. His white wife beater was stained with the sweat of many workouts. He took a gulp of a sports drink and cracked his knuckles. Emmett waited patiently, ready to start the show.
The two men, Emmett standing almost a full foot taller, laid down on the bench press. One of Ian's buddies, with the same stocky look, spotted for him. Emmett decided to go without a spotter.
"Alright Ian, what do you want to start on?" Emmett asked with an arrogant tone.
"Two hundred fifty pounds." Ian bared his front teeth attempting to imitate a wolf, or some other animal, and excitedly broke "Yeah, bring it!"
Ian reminded Emmett of a leprechaun. "Easily Done, little brother." Emmett placed the weight on the bench and began lifting, his face remained calm. He tried to look bored, but even Emmett couldn't contain the excitement of showing off his body.
Ian lifted his weight as well, a few drips of sweat accumulated under his brow. He stopped. "Okay, so you have a little skill. Three hundred, twenty five pounds."
Emmett, with his abnormal use of hearing, felt Ian's heart rate race. Great, he though to himself, feeling afraid Ian?
The crowd of onlookers whispered amongst themselves. The group was divided between Emmett and Ian. Ian was a regular at the gym and had his own large group of fans impressed by his "strength."
"Let's push it up a bit, how about, four hundred pounds?" Emmett began loading the weights without waiting for Ian's response.
A crease had formed on Ian's forehead. He promptly added more weights to the set and laid back against the rest. He gripped the steel, drenched with the sweat of his hands, and took a deep breath in. With all his focus and determination, he began to push the bar upwards, heaving it away from his body. With a caterpillars speed, the bar began to lift. His eyes bulged against their sockets and he strained his muscles to move the bar higher. Halfway lifted, he began to falter. The right side of the bar began to tilt down and it took two spotters to place it back to the center. He held his breath and pushed with all his might to lift the bar, but gravity began to betray him. Slowly, the bar reversed its direction until he collapsed and the spotters removed the bar from his control.
Ian looked over at Emmett. There is no way this guy can lift this much weight.
Still looking in Ian's direction, Emmett began to push the bar away from his body. He got half way up almost instantly, and then he paused. He raised his eyebrow and tried to imitate the theatrics that Ian had done. He scrunched his face up tightly, and blew out a gust of air and wildly hoped a drip of sweat would drop from his brow, but alas his hair remained dry.
"I don't know Ian, maybe this is too tough…" Emmett feigned weakness.
Then he continued speaking. He contorted his face back to a calm exterior and smiled again. "Or maybe, you are just a kid."
With that, Emmett lifted the bar to full height, let it drop again, and then did ten reps of lifting the four hundred pounds. The muscles of his forearms rippled with the minor task.
Ian grabbed his towel and wiped it over his face, rolled his eyes and promptly walked out the front door of the gym. The crowd burst into applause over the brute strength of the mighty newcomer, Emmett.