The Roaming Legend of Beefcakes - Bara Poltergeist

DING, DING, DING, DONG

"Attention members: The facility will be closing in 5 minutes. Please begin wrapping up your workouts and return to the locker rooms. We thank you for your cooperation and hope to see you again soon!"

The employees began their nightly vigil as the clock's hand drew closer to ten. Gymgoers did as instructed, strolling their way back to the lockers with a trail of sweat and grime in their wake. Their gaggle of conversations slowly died down as they left through the exit, returning the gym to its rare, tranquil status quo. Light jazz permeated through the air, only interrupted by the occasional soft grunt of an employee for having to haul some displaced equipment back to their usual spot.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as the employees made their rounds across the building. The floor matting was left intact, with a slight indent here and there due to some mishaps with weights; dumbbells, and bench-press bars were polished and pristine, catching the faint highlights from overhead lights, and nary an area was left cluttered by the masses. The entire gym was perfectly purged inside and out, striking a strong resemblance to a perfect showroom meant for exhibition.

Eventually, there was nothing left to do, and so the employees clocked out for the night. Several soft clicks followed their footsteps as the lights shut down in tandem, leaving the gym under the guidance of the darkness. The bright full moon seeped through the open windows, bathing parts of the gym in a comforting atmosphere. Everything was still, everything was silent, just as it should be until dawn arrived.

Yet in the advent of night, an unexpected intruder also decided to make their welcome. Soft, faint footsteps trailed across the building, too heavy to be a breeze, too soft to be human. The metallic clang of a barbell shifting just a hair out of place echoed lightly, followed by the squeak of a weight bench slowly dipping under unseen pressure.

Something stirred in the moonlit shadows.

A low creak issued from the pull-up bar. It groaned and bounced rhythmically, as though an invisible force were testing its limit. It dipped once… twice… and then again—each repetition punctuated by the phantom gust of displaced air and the faintest sound of a deep, satisfied exhale.

The soft slap of feet followed, padding across the mats. The leg press machine gave a metallic rattle as it suddenly jolted, the weight stack clinking as it rose and dropped with steady, clean reps. Nothing could be seen—but if someone were listening closely, they might have heard the subtle hiss of effort, and perhaps… an amused, silent chuckle.

A heavy barbell began levitating gently, lifted by unseen hands. It rolled smoothly onto the shoulders of what seemed like nothing at all—until, just for a moment, something brushed against the cold steel frame of a nearby squat rack. A tuft of coarse hair… a ghostly glint of crimson eyes… gone in an instant.

With a flick of movement, the barbell vanished from its perch and was effortlessly slammed back down onto the weights mat, sending a deep thud through the air. The gym was alive again—but only for one.

Floating just above the bench press station, the white sheet appeared. It hovered weightlessly before dropping dramatically onto something—someone—that had always been there. Two empty, dark eye holes blinked open on the fabric, the slitted mouth curling upward ever so slightly. The ghost stretched, revealing the impression of rippling arms and shoulders beneath the draped cloth, flexing for an audience of none.

Then he paused, head tilting… eyes—or whatever lay behind those holes—fixating on a single spot across the gym.

You.

He disappeared in a gusty breeze.

A second later, the sheet crumpled to the floor, empty.

A chill swept through the air.

Suddenly, right behind you, just barely out of view, and entirely unseen, a broad, hairy invisible chest hovered close. A floorboard creaked. The scent of chalk, sweat, and something oddly comforting wafted into the air. Then—softly, deliberately—a pair of unseen pecs brushed against the back of the guard's shoulder. Not aggressive. Not loud. Just enough to tease.

Then gone again. For now.