To Viktor Go the Spoils- Part 2

Viktor and the Lackadaisy Gang face a new threat, teaming up with old rivals, while Viktor gets one more burst of strength to finish the job. Enjoy!

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Mitzi was doing everything she could to keep a calm and neutral face, even as her tail swished wildly and her eyes were as wide as saucers as she was stuck staring at Viktor. He had always been the biggest member of the gang, towering over even the likes of Atlas back in the day. But now, she didn't even know what to call him. She hadn't seen so much bulk on a single body outside of an elephant she saw at a circus as a little girl. Her grumpy, burly bartender had grown into three times the feline he was before, filling the space on the opposite end of the table while the rest of the gang gathered around Mitzi, all eyes locked on his swollen, bulging musculature, sheer brawn tearing his shirt to shreds.

"Viktor, honey, I…" Mitzi gaped. "I gotta be honest, I'm speechless."

The hulking orange cat scoffed softly, folding his thickly roped arms, biceps pressed against his thick chest. "Wish others were more like that," he grumbled, glancing over to the one member of the gang that wasn't keeping still— Rocky.

"Look, I'm just saying," Rocky began, the violinist skirting behind Viktor, and trying to tug on an arm thicker than Rocky's waist. "With this Herculean titan on our side, why, we could—" He huffed, his attempts to move Viktor's arm as likely as pulling a train down the track single-handedly. "We could— Viktor, my biggest pal, could ya— could ya lift your arm here for me, please?"
 "No."

"Ah," Rocky let go of Viktor's arm. "Well, he's a humble hero, as we all know. But at any rate, think about the possibilities, here! With our own juggernaut at our disposal, St. Louis is our oyster! Think about how big the opportunities here are!"

"I think we're a little more concerned about a mysterious substance floating around the city that's turning people into giants," Zib muttered, the lanky saxophonist casting a slightly over-long look at Viktor's nearly exposed chest.

"Oh, there are more things in heaven and earth than can be dreamt up in your philosophy, Horatio," Rocky countered. He tried tugging on Viktor's arm again, and with a roll of his eye, he relented, the massive feline curling his arm and pumping up a bicep that eclipsed Rocky's head. "Look at this! We've got a modern-day colossus on our side. Why do we even need to keep fixing up the cars? Goliath here could probably carry all the booze we need on this broadside back." He said, clapping his hand on Viktor's beefy flanks.

"Rocky, honey, please, we need to take this seriously," Mitzi sighed, massaging her forehead. "This is a big problem."

"Is not a problem," Viktor rumbled.

"There, you see? Behind this craggy mountain of a face— and, well, body now, there's a wide-eyed opportunist who sees that the future is ahead of him, and for us! Why, with this locomotive of a cat is going to take the whole—"

Mitzi took one tired look at Rocky and sighed. "Viktor? Please, we need to have a serious discussion about this."

Viktor nodded curtly, and with one swing of his huge arm, hooked Rocky's face, his thick forearm and bulging bicep pressing his cheeks as he mashed the smaller cat's face against his chest, muffling the violinist's continued ranting.

Ivy Pepper cleared her throat, casting Viktor an apprehensive look. "I think we're overlooking something, here— Viktor, how do you feel?"

Viktor cracked a tight grin. "I have never felt better." With his free hand, he gave one of his barrel-thick thighs a firm smack. "Old knee no longer hurts. Hoffman… Hoffman may have done me favor after all."

The young cat called Freckle frowned softly, looking from Viktor to Mitzi. "Look, Viktor, we're all on your side… but how do we know that this isn't going to mess with your head? You said Hoffman was crazy, right?"

The hulking feline scoffed. "Hoffman always crazy. I say again— I feel good."

"Yeah, but how many more people feeling good like this can we handle?" Zib asked. "If these Hyperions have enough to give samples out for free, they've gotta have more beasts than this Hoffman."

The realization that the Hyperions, whoever they were, could just create more giant thugs left the entire gang quiet for a moment. The tense silence was cut as the doorman Bruno jogged towards the bar, the portly cat tugging at his collar, nerves clearly frayed. "Miss May! Miss May, we have, uh, visitors."

Mitzi let out a resigned sigh. "Who is it, Bruno?"

"Ah… Mr. Heller, and those two Savoy siblings. They say they're here on parlay."

"What?"

Instantly, half the Lackadaisy gang leapt up, reaching for their guns.

"Hold on, hold on," Mitzi held up her hands. "They said parlay. They want to talk?" she asked, turning to Bruno.

The portly doorman nodded. "They said they know about Viktor."

Everyone cast their eyes back on the hulking feline, who remained silent even as his mouth tightened.

Mitzi nodded. "Alright, Bruno. Send them in." She glanced back to Viktor. "...And let Rocky go, hon, he's not been moving for a few seconds."

Viktor rolled his eye again as he let go of Rocky, the talkative violinist gasping for breath, and casting a look at Viktor as if he was questioning a few things in his life.

Then, the tension in the room only increased as the three members of the Lackadaisy's rivals, the Marigold Gang, walked in. Mordecai Heller was in front, the lean and humorless, dark-furred cat barely reacting as Viktor snarled darkly at him. Behind him were the two Savoy siblings; Serafine, her face and hair perfectly styled, and the broad-shouldered, swaggering boxer that was her brother, Nicodeme. When he got a good look at Viktor, and how he was now hopelessly outclassed, his confident stride faltered.

Sera whistled low, her eyes drinking Viktor's monumental body like a tall glass of water. "Mais non, you weren't kiddin', Mordecai. This is one big cut of beef."

Nico's mouth twisted. "I didn't know y'all were startin' up a freak show."

"Enough," Mordecai said sharply, before turning deliberately away from Viktor, and then bowing his head curtly to Mitzi. "Miss May."

"Mordecai," Mitzi said coldly. "Tell me what you all want before we send you back to Sweet one piece at a time."

"Charming as ever," Heller replied flatly, helping himself to a seat at the table, even as it cast him in Viktor's shadow. "Mr. Sweet has become aware of the situation with these upstarts, the Hyperions. When I guessed, correctly, that Viktor here wouldn't resist the chance to become an even bigger lumbering brute, Mr. Sweet agreed with my assessment that it was time to talk."

Viktor bared his fangs, bringing his fist down on the table with enough force to nearly splinter the tabletop— the slightest flinch from Mordecai was his satisfying reward. "Talk about what, Heller?"

"'Bout how lucky you are that you walked out of your little tete a tete with that Hoffman goon in one piece." Sera replied. "They decided to give us a more… direct message."

Nico approached the table, casting a wary eye up at Viktor as he tossed a few photographs for the Lackadaisy gang to look over. "That's the boss's place on Olive Street."

Rocky leaned over, eyes going wide as he saw a photo of a devastated bar— it almost looked like a tornado had hit it. "Wow. These Hyperion fellas must be packing some real firepower! This place looks blown to bits!"

Nico shook his head. "Naw, not blown— smashed." 

Mordecai nodded gravely. "There's more than just Hoffman. A half dozen brutes big as houses burst the door down and started trashing the place— when we tried shooting them, the bullets did little more than slow them down."

Mitzi glanced nervously at the rest of her gang, then concentrated fully on Mordecai. "Alright, Heller, but I don't see how that's our problem. Why should we help out Asa Sweet and the Marigold gang when you've tried killing every single person here?"

"Because we know when we got a gator too big to wrangle," Nico replied. "And if he's too big for us, you can be sure he's too big for you."

Mordecai continued. "Mr. Sweet is interested in a temporary alliance. Lackadaisy or Marigold taking advantage of this new development isn't really important if neither one of us survives. We combine our strength and hit the Hyperions and their stash hard. Numbers might give us more of an advantage, and with Viktor more than a match for their goons, we stand a chance."

"And how do we know you won't double cross us?" Zib asked, narrowing his eyes at the three Marigold cats.

"Aw, you don't think we gonna play nice?" Sera cooed, smirking toothily.

Mordecai cleared his throat. "Bringing down Lackadaisy, at this point, isn't in our best interests. We would need you at your full strength if we are going to have a chance against the Hyperions. Mr. Sweet is as good as his word— you help us take the Hyperions out, and our truce will last for twenty four hours after that, so everyone can be well-rested before we all go back to plotting and scheming around one another."

The seriousness of the situation seemed to weigh even on Rocky, whose brow was furrowed deep in thought. "Still— this is Asa Sweet. There has to be something else he wants out of this."

Mordecai nodded curtly, his hands folded neatly atop the table. "Mr. Sweet does request that we secure this… serum they have, and then we destroy it. Whatever it is, I think we can all agree it's a crime against nature." He said pointedly, shooting a sharp glare towards Viktor, who growled deeply again, his powerful arms tensing as thick burls of muscle bristled to life.

The Lackadaisy gang turned to Mitzi, and she, in turn, looked towards the massive feline. "Viktor, honey, this started with you. You know Hoffman, and you've had the most… hands-on experience with this. What do you think?"

Viktor huffed, nodding slowly. "Is best if we stop Hoffman."

"Good. Glad that's settled." Mordecai held out his hand, and then the gritted teeth on his face belied the realization he had when Viktor's thick hand swallowed his up to his wrist. Viktor's vice-like grip very nearly cracked some bones as his bulging arm barely twitched, giving Mordecai a shake that nearly threw him out of his seat. Viktor gave a small, grim little smile.

Mitzi leaned forward. "Now… I suppose we should probably start planning a raid, then."

The ride to the wharf where the Marigold Gang had pinpointed the Hyperions' base was tense, to say the least. Ivy Pepper was driving a truck, with Mordecai and Rocky in the cabin, and Viktor sprawled out on the flatbed. On the other side of the warehouse, Sera and Nico were getting in place with Freckle. Mordecai kept glancing behind him. Usually, he only saw the thick burls of Viktor's back, filling the back window and stretching out the largest shirt anyone could find in St. Louis. Occasionally though, he'd be met with Viktor's single emerald eye glaring down at him, like the early-morning sun peeking over the top of a mountain.

"You seem on edge, Mr. Heller," Rocky said, casting him a cheshire-cat grin. "As our very own Napoleon, you're not afraid we're walking into a Waterloo situation, are you?"

Mordecai scoffed. "I'm fine. I just don't like dealing with…" he glanced back again at the iceberg of muscle they were hauling in the back. "...Unknown quantities. The plan is as airtight as it can be, otherwise. So long as you're in position, Mr. Rickaby, I trust even you and the Elephant Man we're hauling in back will be capable of performing a simple pincer maneuver."

"Hey!" Ivy turned in her seat to glare at Mordecai. "Don't call him that. He's…"

"What? Big for his age?" Mordecai busied himself with loading his revolver. "Miss Pepper, Viktor is primarily here as a meat shield, a big one. If he gets out of this alive, what do you think his life is going to be like? He'll be lucky if he gets a job as a circus strongman— at least a tent or rail car will be big enough for him, than any apartment here in the city."

Viktor didn't know if Mordecai knew he could hear him; not that it mattered. The black cat would probably only make his point more candid if he knew Viktor was listening. He frowned deeply, one thick hand patting down his overly thick arm, the shirt they had squeezed him into already fraying at the seams of his sleeves as his bloated bicep leapt to attention at the slightest movement. His eye scanned over his huge, beefy chest, and even at his trunk-thick legs sprawled out across the flatbed. What was he going to do once Hoffman was dealt with? He had already given Mrs. Bupka the fright of her life when he had gone home to find something that fit, and what would Alena think…?

He growled to himself, shaking his head. Alena wouldn't need to think about anything, not where he was concerned. It was better that way. The car came to a stop outside one of the derelict warehouses along the wharf, a thick fog clinging to the ground. Mordecai was the first one out of the car, casting a look at Viktor like he was a gorilla nearly burst out of his cage. Viktor glared back, picturing how easy it would be to crush his head like a grape. He hefted himself off the truck, hitting the ground with a heavy thud and the flatbed squealing in relief as the truck's axle lifted half a foot back to its original position. 

"You going to be alright, Vik?" 

He turned to face Ivy. She was hugging herself against the damp cold rolling off the Mississippi, and casting a look at him he hadn't seen since she was little.

He managed a reassuring smile. "Why wouldn't I be? Strong as a bull, now." He said, pumping both his arms and curling them until the melon-sized mounds on his arms finally split right through his sleeves. He eased one arm to give it a firm pat, thumping a burl of muscle that may as well have been concrete. "See?"

"I know, just… don't do anything stupid, alright?" Ivy's mouth twisted for a moment before she threw herself around Viktor's thickly girded waist. "You know that we'd take care of you, whatever happens, right?"

Viktor's smile slipped off. He gingerly wrapped his huge arm around Ivy for a brief moment, then gently pushed her back. "No need. Stay low and be ready— I will make this quick."

"Ready to bring down the temple, Samson?" Rocky asked in a chipper tone, nudging Viktor's bulky side. 

Viktor grunted in the affirmative, and then cast Rocky an exceedingly rare smile. "Will try and give you a show."

"Ha-Ha!" Rocky slapped his side. "A little showmanship flare under all that scowling bulk— I like Big Viktor."

Mordecai gave the signal, and the three charged in. Viktor gave a running start and slammed into the locked doors with all the force of a runaway train, sheet metal and wood alike splintering before his overwhelming mass and might. Seconds later, shouts echoed from the other end of the warehouse, followed quickly by the sound of machine gun fire— Freckles and the Savoys had gotten in on the other side, and the fight was joined.

From here, Mordecai and Rocky split from Viktor— Mordecai clambered up into the warehouse's rafters while Rocky took the center row, drawing the Hyperion goons in while Mordecai would try and pick them off. As for Viktor, he stuck to the shadows, best as he could— he was keeping an eye out for Hoffman. He got a look at what this Hyperion group was doing to their people besides Hoffman— the smallest of them still had an inch on him before the serum, and was twice as burly. Hoffman would still tower over them all, but there was something distinctly unnatural about all of their sizes— how much of this serum did Hyperion have?

Viktor continued to stalk along the warehouse perimeter like a tiger waiting to strike. The goons couldn't reach Mordecai, but worryingly, even with the hitman's precise aiming, they weren't going down. Mordecai may as well be throwing bee stings at the goons, for all the good it did— even when Viktor could see the shot connect, those thick burls of muscle barely twitched when they were struck. 

The huge feline felt a shudder run down his spine. Watching the Hyperion goons run out, some of them nearly hunched down on all fours like wild animals, he felt his own heart begin to race, his ears twitch and his hands clench, his engorged muscles tightening. His job was to find the serum— he was the only one who knew it by sight, and both Mordecai and Rocky, for differing reasons, agreed it was best that he catch Hoffman by surprise. But he wanted to charge in. All of these Hyperion goons— they'd be no match for him. He was bigger, he was stronger, and he doubt any of these penny-rate thugs had survived the trenches the way he did. He could crush their skulls like grapes, tear them to shreds, and…

Viktor snarled to himself, gripping his forehead— he could feel a sharp pain lancing through his head, his vision blurry from the sudden onset. Did he get shot in the back of the head? He felt the back of his neck, but then the thoughts came bubbling up again. He could feel his arm tensing involuntarily, hard enough he could see fat, pumping veins showing through his fur, snaked across the sprawling landscape of his body.

"Doparoma!" he snarled, trying to keep himself under control.

"Viktor! Our Herculean champion! We could use some cover over here!" Rocky called out. The huge cat needed no more convincing, his powerful legs coiled as he leapt from his position, and slammed into a Hyperion thug cornering Rocky. Viktor's mass floored the smaller feline, and he brought down a fist thick as a sledgehammer head. His opponent was already limp, but Viktor was practically possessed, pent-up energy surging through him as he slammed down on the goon over and over again.

"Viktor— Viktor!" Rocky tried to pull the hulking brute back, to no avail. "That's enough! We now have a bigger audience right now!"

Viktor's only response was a low, defiant roar as he threw Rocky back with little effort, but his eyes flicked up as three more of the Hyperion thugs rushed up to him. His whole body tensed, chest heaving from the effort and splitting the neckline of his shirt and sleeves bursting to tatters as his arms pumped, palming his fist as he leapt into the fray. His strength was awesome, and he was more than a match for any one of them— but he had his limits, and three of them were able to box him in. Viktor's swell of adrenaline and bloodlust was beginning to diminish greatly as the constant kicks, punches, and shots began to take their toll. With a frustrated snarl, he threw one of them back and let Mordecai drive the others off, grabbing Rocky as he pulled back behind a row of crates.

"Is no use!" Viktor snarled. "Too much— too many!"

"What?" Rocky snapped to the huge feline, huffing from the effort and starting to feel the bruises on his huge limbs. "No, no, no! Viktor— we're pinned down, here. We need our juggernaut to bust through the lines. Or do you want to leave Freckles alone with the Savoy psychos, and Miss Pepper all on her lonesome?"

"No— you do not understand. My head— the stuff, it… it is making me violent. Lose control."

Rocky's face fell, but then he nodded slowly. "Alright, alright. But… what're we going to do, here?"

Viktor peaked his head over the line of crates, and glowered darkly. The fight was still raging, but there were still three trying to pin down Mordecai, and he had no idea where the other team was. And if any of them made it outside the warehouse…

"Gah! Hoffman!" Viktor snarled, slamming his fist against a crate, wood splintering. "He started all of this, he…" The cat trailed off as he saw what was inside the crate, a familiar glint of glass and a strange, electric blue liquid. He grit his teeth, staring at it. "Viktor will end it. Grab that vial."

Rocky glanced down, then back up to Viktor, already brushing away the remains of his sleeve. "But… didn't you just say this stuff will mess with your head? You'll lose control."

"I can handle it." Viktor snapped his fingers. "Grab leather strap and needle, should be in there."

"But, Viktor—"

The larger feline grabbed Rocky roughly, nearly pulling him off his feet. "Do it."

"Right, yes sir, right away!" Rocky said hastily, saluting Viktor sharply.

The orange beast braced himself, tensing his arm so the vein showed. He took in one stabilizing breath and waited for the same jolt. He felt the sharp pinprick of pain, and then, he felt the surge— this time, it nearly overwhelmed him. The pulsing power from the strange serum hit him like a tidal wave, and Viktor nearly swooned, barely keeping his head above water. His breathing quickened and became shallow, but then, it hit again. That same rush billowed up from his arm and into the rest of his body, the electric glow snaking through his pulsing veins. His body shuddered as it began to take hold; power shot through and expanded into his body. 

His arms surged larger and larger, his biceps inflating large as boulders, slabs of beef filling out his triceps. The flow of energy and power forced his shoulders further out, swallowing more of his neck as it became thicker and wider than a bull's. His chest jutted out like a pair of oncoming trucks, and his legs grew wider than ale kegs, more powerful than train engine pistons. His broadside back unfurled like a flag in full wind, wide and solid as a brick wall.

"Oh boy…" Rocky gulped, giving Viktor as much room as he could. "H-how… how're you feeling, big guy?"

Viktor shook his head, pulling himself to his massive height. "Never better."

The monumentally huge cat brushed aside the crates like they were nothing. "Hoffman!" he bellowed. "We settle this, now!"

There was a pause in the fighting. As Viktor lumbered through the increasingly narrow aisle of the warehouse, some of the Hyperion goons stopped, only able to stare at the massive behemoth stomping past them. In the center of their warehouse hideout was all the paraphernalia of a gym, including a makeshift boxing ring in the center. Hoffman made himself known, the large grey cat stepping out of the shadows, eyes going wide as he spotted Viktor. 

"Vasko! You… you took another dose?"

Viktor grinned toothily. "Let us do this, you and me. Call off goons, we fight."

Hoffman held up his hand, signalling to the rest of the Hyperion to stop. "You know if you lose… the little rats you snuck in here will be nothing but our prey."

Viktor nodded grimly. 

Hoffman grinned wide. Even with Viktor dwarfing him, the smug captain still seemed assured of victory. "Then by all means."

Viktor approached the ring with Hoffman. He lunged for Hoffman, but the German captain deftly dodged his first heavy blow. Viktor felt a tremor of annoyance flare across his face, but he tried again— once more, Hoffman dodged him.

"You are new to this type of body, ja?" Hoffman chuckled darkly. "It makes you slow, predictable—" He swept in quickly, raking his claws deep enough across Viktor's back to make the massive feline snarl in pain. "All this power, and no idea how to properly apply it. It is just like the war."

"Raugh!" Viktor slammed his fists down, cratering the floor and splintering the beams holding up the ring, the boxing ring ropes trembling.

"You are like a wild animal— a stupid bear, nothing but a plaything for the real hunter," Hoffman dodged out of Viktor's way. "Soon, the serum will get to you, Corporal. Even now, your bloodlust is boiling to the top, and then, I can put you down like the rabid dog you always were."

"Shut up!" Viktor lunged for Hoffman again, his bloated biceps slamming against his chest as he tried to grab the German hitman in front of him, but again, the grey cat slipped out of his fingers. Again, Hoffman slipped behind him, digging his claws deep— even with all the bloated walls of brawn packed onto his back, Viktor felt the sharp jabs of pain as they drove him down onto his knees.

Hoffman leered at him, now at eye level again with Viktor. "Even now you're barely hanging on. You could never use this power like I could. You were a simple man, Corporal— and now, after so many years, your luck has just run— augh!"

Viktor reached for his neck— he missed, but his huge arm still slammed into Hoffman like a wrecking ball. The German sprawled across the ring, and Viktor, his breath shaky, pulled himself up, dwarfing Hoffman entirely in his shadow. With an iron, vice-like grip, he grabbed Hoffman by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, pulling him up with ease. Before he could scramble free, Viktor wrapped his arm around Hoffman like a boa constrictor would its prey, impenetrably deep swells of arm muscle pinning Hoffman against his cliff-like chest.

"You always talk too much. And I only needed to hit you once." Viktor grinned tightly. Hoffman gasped, clawing desperately against Viktor's swollen vambrace of a forearm, but he may as well have tried breaking through stone with his claws. Viktor squeezed, tighter and tighter, until Hoffman swooned.

Chuckling deeply, Viktor threw Hoffman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Sleep well, Captain." He cast one dark eye towards the rest of the Hyperion goons, and like a pack of wild dogs, they scattered.

Rocky, Mordecai, and the Savoys with Freckles in tow, cautiously approached the now monstrously huge cat. Freckles cleared his throat, glancing up at Hoffman slung over Viktor's shoulder. "God, is he…?"

"No, no." Viktor shook his head. "Miss May can question him when he wakes up."

"And Mr. Sweet." Mordecai said crisply, even as he quailed when Viktor shot him a flat glare. He recovered, straightening his overcoat. "Well… let's not waste any more time, here. We don't know if the rest of those crazed gorillas are going to regroup. Find the serum, then we dump it. All of it." He glanced up at Viktor warily. "If you get any bigger, Miss May will have to sell you to a zoo."

Viktor glowered, but quietly joined the others in scouring the warehouse for any of the serum left. The hulking beast had time to think about what he was going to do with all this brawn, this body that now made him possibly the strongest man alive. So much had to change— he doubted he could even squeeze threw his own front door, anymore. But when he felt how easy it was to move, the power coursing through his veins— it wasn't all bad. Still, he agreed with Mordecai, for once— the serum was unknown, mostly untested, and if a man like Hoffman was singing its praises, it was best to put an end to it— his mind reeled at someone like Rocky having a taste of it.

Meanwhile, the Marigold crew were looking over the boxes they had collected. Mordecai approached the Savoys, Nico trying not to look more at the hulking giant that used to be Viktor— the jealousy radiating off of him was palpable. 

"What is this, a dozen?" Mordecai asked, making a quick count of the boxes.

"Sho'nuff, cher," Sera said, patting the top of one. "What we gonna do with all this, dump it in the river?"

"No… we'll take it to a friendly facility on Mr. Sweet's payroll, have it disposed of properly. Except for one." Mordecai glanced up at Nico. "Get one into the trunk of my car. Discreetly."

Nico arched his brow, tearing his gaze away from Viktor. "What's that, now?"

Mordecai scoffed softly. "You didn't think Mr. Sweet would let Lackadaisy hold this advantage, did you? No, he's going to want to take a look at Hyperion's secret weapon, here." The black cat clapped one clawed paw on Nico's shoulder. "And you are going to need to be able to take a hit from Viktor in the future."

Nico's eyes went wide as realization hit him, looking from Viktor, to Mordecai, to his sister. "What, you want me to…?"

Mordecai offered the briefest flicker of a smirk. "We're playing to win. And Marigold will need a beast of its own, for the future."