Brotherhood of Bearded Alphas and Betas

NARRATOR    THE YEAR 2100

By 2100, the world had fractured into two separate realities. Beyond the fortified districts, ordinary people lived behind barricaded doors, protecting themselves from roaming gangs, hunger and the poisoned air. The wealthy lived very differently. Hidden inside heavily guarded enclaves, they enjoyed filtered air, artificial gardens and uninterrupted supplies. Advanced medicine, genetic treatments and synthetic performance drugs allowed them to sculpt spectacular bodies without years of discipline or effort. Physical perfection had become another luxury product, something that could simply be purchased

In the ruins of a house situated in one of the poorest districts, beneath rotten furniture and decades of rubble, scavengers found a large black box bearing a faded golden emblem. Inside was an action doll called FREAKER. The doll itself was intact. 

The cardboard packaging had suffered from dampness, its colours had faded, and several stains had weakened its corners. Beside it lay an equally rare advertising leaflet announcing the creation of the first Eidolon doll in 1983. The discovery was sent to auction.

After fierce bidding, FREAKER sold for €17,000 to a twenty-two-year-old bodybuilding influencer living in a protected district in northern England. His extraordinary physique had been engineered through the finest treatments, chemical compounds and medical procedures money could buy. Freaker was placed inside another dark shipping box and carried north by FedEx, unaware that he was about to enter an entirely new world.

FREAKER

I am finally back in the light. For more than a century, I slept inside that dark, damp cellar. I suffered no damage, but my beautiful box was less fortunate. Its colours have faded, and patches of moisture have weakened the cardboard. Even so, as the auctioneer proudly declared, I am a rarity.

I was the first doll ever produced by the legendary Eidolon Collectibles. The original advertising leaflet announcing my creation is almost as rare as I am. Back in the 1980s, I was a celebrated bodybuilder as well as a victorious and undefeated fighter. Eidolon captured my extraordinary physique and turned him into its first articulated doll. At auction, I sold for €17,000.

Once again, I found myself imprisoned inside a dark box, with no idea where I was going or what awaited me. Then, suddenly, the darkness disappeared. I emerged in an opulent living room inside one of the protected districts. The man unwrapping me was a young man with an astonishingly muscular body, He examined me with obvious admiration before placing me in the centre of a vast display shelf. 

I had not enough time to observe my new neighbours. The only one I noticed was TIMATHEOS the second doll ever created by Eidolon. He had been a professional wrestler in my time, although his doll never achieved the success mine did. Now we stand together in the collection of a young man born more than a century after us.  I have been given the place of honour, at the very centre of the shelf. That seems appropriate.

After all, I was the first. And I am clearly the crown jewel of this collection.

TIMATHEOS

There he is the bastard. I never thought I would see him again. And yet, the moment he arrives, he steals my place at the centre of the collection. Until now, I was the oldest doll on this shelf. I was created in 1984, one year after FREAKER,

Back then, I was the public’s favourite professional wrestler. I even appeared in several films. But because of that arrogant bastard my sales stagnated while his doll sold like hot cakes. After only two years, Eidolon stopped producing me.I heard the chemically manufactured muscle freak who collects us say that I am now extremely difficult to find. Much of my original production run was apparently destroyed. I am supposedly worth €10,000, and he even turned down an offer of €12,000 for me.

Until today, I had a magnificent view across the salon and the city beyond its windows. Now FREAKER stands in front of me like a massive pillar, cutting that view in half. But I will get my place back. Whatever it takes.

FREAKER

You are probably wondering what I dream about. I was created not as a toy for children, but to satisfy the fantasies of adults. I have watched women and men masturbate in front of me. Some even used me as a dildo. But nowadays, no one is interested in me anymore, apart from a few geeks who remain fascinated by the glorious age of 1980s bodybuilding. Eidolon was once the leading manufacturer of muscular dolls, and I was its bestselling model.

The name Eidolon means a double, an idol, or a representation. TIMATHEOS and I were the first figures in a series devoted to the bodybuilding stars of the time. However, because of disputes over image rights, the series ended with the two of us. After that, the company created fictional and mythological characters such as Hercules and Samson, as well as gladiators. But let us return to my dream.

My greatest wish is to escape from this box and finally see some action. I have never met TIMATHEOS, but I would give almost anything for the chance to face him…And defeat him.

TIMATHEOS

I have been trapped inside this box for what feels like an eternity. No one has ever opened it, and the stale, musty smell has seeped into every part of me. When I was a man, I loved my own scent, especially the smell of my sweat. But now I no longer sweat. I no longer bleed. My only entertainment was watching this room and that idiot swallowing his supplements before showing off online. What a pathetic world, filled with spineless cowards. If I ever get out of here, I will kill that fool. Brad, that is his name .Fuck, yes.

I have only one dream: to escape from this cardboard cage, regain my freedom of movement, and feel my old strength coursing through me again.

But now that weakling FREAKER has deprived me of my only source of entertainment. I would like to kill him too.

NARRATOR

Midnight strikes, and darkness descends upon the room, silent and unsettling. Has the god of dolls heard the shared wish of those two unfortunate beings of plastic? Suddenly, a strange electrical surge races through the display-case lights. The glass trembles, the bulbs flickers…And the two figures come to life. Why them, and not all the others? That remains one of the great mysteries of life and the universe.

FREAKER

Suddenly, a brilliant light tears through the darkness. A surge of new energy pierces my chest. I shudder, but there is no pain. Only surprise. Joy, even. I feel my muscles moving. I feel life rising inside me. I place my hands on my pecs. My body is still made of plastic, yet I can feel everything I once felt when I was a man. I flex my pecs, and a cruel smile spreads across my face. Then I drive my foot into the transparent plastic separating me from the outside world. With the savage roar of a warrior, I burst free from my box and leap out, only to find myself standing face-to-face with TIMATHEOS.

TIMATHEOS

A blinding light floods the box and passes straight through me. I close my eyes against this devilry. Then, suddenly, I feel energy coursing through my body. I feel powerful again. I flex one of my biceps and admire its perfect peak. Throwing back my head, I roar with laughter. I love the feeling of this magnificent body transforms once more into a weapon of combat. With a savage cry, I smash through the transparent plastic and leap out of the box.

He is standing right beside me, his muscles shifting beneath his plastic skin like a stallion eager to display its power. I turn towards him. “FREAKER ! It is time for us to settle the score. I deserve first place, and you are the one who took it away from me, even today. Get ready. I am going to destroy you.”

FREAKER

“Still as arrogant as ever, asshole.” I throw a front double-biceps pose right in your face, displaying arms as huge as melons. You answer with the same pose, and I have to admit that your physique is every bit as impressive as mine. I feel my cock beginning to harden. Surprise crosses my face, followed by pleasure. I have not experienced this delicious sensation in more than a century. I breathe in deeply. Unfortunately, the only scent in the air is that of old plastic.

“So, TIMATHEOS, you truly believe you deserve first place? Look at my physique. It is flawless, and the public has already made its choice. You are barely worthy of being a second-rate carnival wrestler.”

I advance with my chest thrust proudly forwards, my enormous pecs like two cushions as thick as truck tyres. I drive my two fists against your chest, forcing you backwards with a brutal shove.  You stumble backwards. “You are dead, TIMATHEOS.” 

In two strides, I am upon you. With one final blow, I send you crashing backwards onto the miniature cast-iron weights lying behind you.

TIMATHEOS

I absorb your blows and find myself sprawled among the miniature weights and dumbbells. I feel a strange tightness across my pecs. To my horror, I see that tiny cracks have appeared in the plastic. Yet, strangely, I feel no pain. I am almost disappointed. You approach me, ready to strike me in the face. I let you come closer. You may be famous for your brutality, but I built my reputation on fighting dirty and landing the lowest of blows. I grab one of the dumbbells and am startled by its weight. It is not made of plastic. It is solid cast iron. You loom over me.

I swing my arm and drive the dumbbell straight into your handsome old face. The weight sinks into your cheek, snapping your head violently to one side. Your eyes widen in shock. Then I hear a faint crack. 

A narrow split has opened across your cheek. “You smell of old plastic, you pathetic bastard. Your glory days are over.” I leap from the shelf. I know this apartment far better than you do, and it will make the perfect ring for me to beat the hell out of you.

FREAKER

I should have known better. The fans used to call you “the Faker” because you always cheated your way to victory. Once again, you catch me by surprise, and the dumbbell strikes me squarely in the face. Instinctively, I run a hand across my cheek and feel a narrow crack in the plastic. But I am not dazed, nor do I feel any pain. That is one of the advantages of being a doll. And yet, I miss the smell of blood and sweat.

You prove your cowardice once again by leaping down into the living room. I follow without hesitation, and the thick carpet cushions our landing. 

I glance around, but you have already disappeared. Then I realise that you have gained the advantage. This vast, unfamiliar space is filled with dangers I know nothing about. You have been here for years. You know every corner of this place.

TIMATHEOS

You follow me without hesitation. You have fallen straight into my trap. This apartment is a dangerous playground, one I have explored in my imagination and learned to master over the years. I often pictured myself fighting that brainless muscleman, devising new ways to make him suffer before finally finishing him off. Your eyes search the darkness. You cannot find me. I am above you, asshole.

I stand on the table beneath a towering stack of plastic and metal containers filled with the pills and powders that the other fake swallows every day. Some of the containers are taller than I am, and far heavier than they look. Like Samson in some 1960s sword-and-sandal epic, I push myself against the wall of supplements with all my strength.The entire stack begins to topple over the edge.“Hey, shitbag! Have a taste of all this!”

FREAKER

I am suddenly buried beneath a mountain of containers, some of them as heavy as stones. I have been too arrogant. You are cleverer than I thought. With tremendous effort, accompanied by  grunts, I finally burst out from beneath the pile. My strength was once legendary. I was often compared to Hercules. I could break chains and bend iron bars as easily as if they were made of marshmallow.But you have disappeared again.

The man who lives here is not particularly tidy. Every piece of furniture, every cardboard box, every stack of books and magazines could provide you with a hiding place. And every object could become a weapon.I advance cautiously, every sense alert and my eyes scanning the room. I stop in front of a heap of dirty laundry and search through it with my feet. Nothing, only the overpowering stench of an alpha male: a foul mixture of sweat, semen, urine, and other unpleasant substances. I would be surprised if even you had chosen to hide in there. Suddenly, I sense a presence behind me. A cable coils around my throat. I feel your muscles pressing into my back.

TIMATHEOS

While your limited brain remains fascinated by a pile of dirty laundry, I creep silently up behind you. I have ripped a cable from the man’s computer. He is not going to be pleased. Showing himself naked online, playing with his muscles and masturbating for paying customers is how he earns most of his money.

I loop the cable around your neck and pull it tight. I press my chest against your massive back.

 I feel hard. One day, I will have to check whether I have anything between my legs. You grunt and thrash around like an eel. Both your hands seize the improvised garrotte, but the cable is strong. You have no chance of breaking it. Little by little, I feel you weakening. I lean backwards, using my weight to increase the pressure. I hope to break your neck. Then, suddenly, you stop moving.

You hang limply in my grip like a rag doll. I lift one of your arms and let it go. It drops heavily to your side. I am surprised. You cannot have suffocated. You are a doll. I loosen the cable, and you collapse forwards onto your back. “Fuck, that was too easy. I am going to tear you limb from limb, and soon I will be the crown jewel of this collection once again.”

FREAKER

My trick worked. Now you are the one who has been made a fool of. On the carpet nearby, I spot one of the miniature dumbbells you smashed into my handsome face earlier. For a moment, your attention is captured by your reflection in the mirror. You begin flexing your muscles, admiring yourself.I seize my chance.

I grab the cast-iron dumbbell and spring forwards, dropping to one knee directly in front of you. With all my strength, I smash the weight into your left knee joint. The impact is so violent that the old plastic caves in and the mechanism inside shatters. Before you can react, I swing the dumbbell into your right knee. More plastic explodes from the joint and scatters across the carpet. Both your legs buckle beneath you, and you collapse onto your ruined knees in front of me. 

Then I send the dumbbell in you face breaking your plastic nose and one of your cheeks. You are still conscious, but your shattered leg mechanisms can no longer support your weight..

I rise slowly to my feet, an ironic smile curling across my lips. “It is time to finish this and make way for the one true alpha created by Eidolon.”

I throw the dumbbell aside. You remain on your ruined knees before me, helpless but still defiant. I drive my left fist into your jaw, then bury my right in your cracked pecs. The force of the blows sends you sprawling backwards into a pile of miniature cast-iron weights. Metal crashes around your plastic body as you strike the floor. You try to rise, but your shattered knees fold uselessly beneath you. I stand over you, savouring your humiliation.

TIMATHEOS

Here I am, immobilised lying on my back in the middle of dumbbels and weights. I'm at the mercy of your strength and arrogance, humiliated and dominated. I do not know what enrages me more: being defeated by you or being reduced to the role of a beta. What remains strange is that I feel no physical pain. Only painful emotions, as though the force that brought us back to life still refuses to make us truly living beings.

I know that my fate is sealed, but I cannot understand what you have in mind when I see you pushing a massive electric recliner towards me. Yes, I must admit one thing. You truly are a Hercules of the modern world.

FREAKER

I seize you beneath the arms and drag your useless body towards the electric recliner. Your shattered knees scrape across the carpet, leaving tiny fragments of plastic behind you. “You wanted to be remembered as the strongest,” I tell you. “Instead, you will become a collection of spare parts.” With considerable effort, I lift you onto the seat. I use several computer cables to fasten your wrists to the fixed metal frame behind the armrests. Then I pull your legs forwards and tie your ankles securely to the motorised footrest with cables.

For the first time, I see uncertainty in your eyes. I climb onto the armrest and jump down onto the large button controlling the chair. The electric motor awakens with a deep mechanical hum. Slowly, the footrest begins to extend. The cables straighten. Your body slides forwards until your arms are pulled tightly behind you and your legs are stretched out in front of you. You growl and flex every muscle in your magnificent plastic body, but there is nothing for your strength to fight. The motor continues turning with cold, steady precision. The plastic around your shoulders begins to whiten. Tiny cracks spread across your hips. “You always wanted to prove that you were stronger than me,” I say, watching you struggle. “Let us see whether you are stronger than a machine.”

The chair opens farther. A sharp crack echoes through the room. Your left arm tears free from its shoulder socket and remains hanging from the cable. A moment later, the right follows. Both plastic arms swing uselessly against the sides of the chair.     You stare at them in disbelief. The motor continues. Your damaged knees split apart. The internal mechanisms snap, and both legs separate from your hips. Your mutilated torso slides from the seat and strikes the carpet beneath the recliner.

There is no blood. Only broken plastic twisted joints and the fading light in your eyes. The great TIMATHEOS is no more. I stand over what remains of you, my chest thrust proudly forwards. “I told you there was room for only one true alpha in this collection.”

Then something punches through my back and emerges from the centre of my chest. I look down.

A blade protrudes from my body. For a moment, I feel nothing but astonishment when the weapon is driven deeper through my plastic torso. Slowly, I turn my head. Standing behind me is a tall, powerfully built gladiator. I recognise him immediately. MARCUS MERETRUS

MARCUS MERETRUS

From inside my box, I remained perfectly still and watched the two of you destroy each other. I waited  for the right moment to act, the moment when one of you finally gained the upper hand. I had placed my bet on TIMATHEOS. But it was old FREAKER who defeated him. I use my gladius to cut an opening through the transparent plastic of my box. Then I leap down onto the thick carpet. Your time has passed. You are nothing but decaying relics from another age. I am youth.

Our master carries me into his bedroom when he wants to masturbate, imagining fantasies involving the two of us. I am his favourite. I deserve first place.

When I drive my gladius into your back, I feel a profound sense of satisfaction. I have never fought before. Until tonight, my weapons were merely useless accessories. Now they are allowing me to dispose of you. Only the smell of fear, sweat and blood is missing. With those, the moment would be truly perfect.

I felt myself growing hard as I watched you dismember TIMATHEOS, even though I know there is nothing between my legs. Brad has taken me out of my box many times to undress me and caress my flawless body. It is probably in the genes of man of my kind to have this feeling. You stare at me in astonishment. I see the disappointment spreading across your face. “Why?” you ask. “Because the two of you are obsolete.” You open your mouth to continue, but I give you no time. With one swift stroke, I cut off your head, which rolls near to the armchair

Before your body can fall, I bring my gladius down through the centre of your torso, splitting you into two pieces. The lifeless halves collapse to either side of me. 

I turn towards the shelf where the other dolls remain asleep inside their boxes. “Now you know who your alpha is. You owe me obedience and respect. Defy me, and I will not hesitate to destroy you.” I climb back onto the shelf and push my box to the centre. I step in my little place. A light rushes through the shelves. Now everything appears exactly as it did before. Only one thing has changed. There is now a smile upon my lips.

NARRATOR

The following morning, Brad entered the living room and stopped in disbelief. The floor was covered with broken plastic, severed limbs, twisted cables and shattered pieces of two of the most valuable dolls in his collection. At first, he considered having them repaired. FREAKER and TIMATHEOS were rare figures, relics from the earliest years of Eidolon. Restored examples could be worth a small fortune. He crouched down and examined the remains. The damage was too extensive. The old plastic had split in countless places Brad hesitated for a final moment. Then he fetched a dustpan and brush. One by one, he swept the broken pieces into a small rubbish bag. He tied it tightly, placed it inside an old shoebox and closed the lid. He was not yet ready to throw them away completely, so he pushed the box into the darkest corner of a cupboard.

When he returned to the collection, something else caught his attention. MARCUS MERETRUS had the place of honour at the front of the shelf. Brad frowned. He could not remember placing him there. He picked up the gladiator’s box, studied the powerful figure behind the transparent plastic, then pushed it towards the back of the shelf. In its place, he carefully positioned BIG LUCAS. Brad stepped back and smiled. 

Big Lucas now stood at the centre of the collection, perfectly illuminated and visible from every corner of the room. Behind him, almost hidden in shadow, MARCUS MERETRUSs has lost his smile inside his box. He had destroyed both his rivals to become the alpha. His reign had lasted less than a single night.

THE END ???

Published: 2026-08-17, viewed 99 times.