Some people claim that alcohol turned them into a monster. For Dan, the statement was an absolute hard fact. When different types of alcohol flowed through his veins, a completely distinctive personality appeared. During the drinking years, friends called him Jekyll & Hyde.
Whiskey turned him into mean, fighting behemoth. His chest stuck out slightly too far. A cocky attitude permeated from his soul. He searched for the weak to beat down and hoped some person would say or do the wrong thing to set him off. The feeling on flesh being pounded under his knuckles gave him a rush. He took on the essence of the piece of shit called his father. Dan hated the feeling.
Gin made him a horny bastard. No woman was safe from his advances. If a vagina was anywhere near his vicinity its owner would be hit on. Guaranteed. He would fuck any woman that moved. He badgered girls until one caved in or thought he was attractive enough to sleep with or her inhibitions were dropped or maybe she just wanted to fuck. The aftermath scared Dan the most. Waking up in strange places and barely remembering the acts performed or with whom. The mad dash escape plan in early morning light became common. One day he got courage enough to take an AIDS test. Fear paralyzed him for checking the results. Luckily it came back negative, just like the last few times. Russian roulette was the game being played and it needed to quit.
Vodka turned him into an emotional wreck. His mind worked overtime. The night normally ended in tears as he thought about the missed opportunities of the past and the void in the present. The future seemed non-existent, considering his lifestyle. Dan vowed to change his ways each time. To clean himself up and take control. The statements ended up being more lies made up in the moment of a blurred consciousness.
Tequila made his mind scramble. He lost all control as the Superman within come forth. There was no challenge he wouldn't accept. All bets were off. These nights, he usually blacked out and woke up with an injured body. Any one of his worst qualities had the potential to come forth during the binge. These nights were few and far between but Dan denied each one. He knew the consequences that came with the horrors and chose to bury the truth.
Beer simply made him sleepy. After about a dozen his eyelids drooped into peaceful bliss. Nice and quiet. Dan didn’t mind these nights.
Sobriety started five years ago. No small feat for an alcoholic. These days he served drinks in his hometown bar. A place he owned and operated. A strange career choice for a person in his condition, but being around the scene kept the monster at bay. He knew the damn thing waited to be released once again. On the days when the booze craving hit him hard, so intense that the mental anguish became unbearable; Dan left the bar and went home, locking himself inside. The job tested him every single day. He had yet to slip.
It helped that most of the regulars in the joint were suffering too. Many monsters were kept hidden from plain sight, except on the rarest occasions.
Sheila had a different monster living inside her. It craved sex. The constant need to be stimulated consumed her.
She fought with the beast and often lost. There was the time when she masturbated in the back of the city bus because not cumming at that exact moment would feel like death. The particular situation occurred often. The necessity of receiving instant ecstasy controlled her. Then there was the night back in college when she let ten frat guys pull a chain on her. She even did two guys at a time. Twice. Once it was end to end. She sucked on a hard cock while another slammed inside her. The other was high road, low road. She engulfed one penis in her vagina while the other slipped inside her anus. They pumped simultaneously and it drove her wild. The scene was straight from a gang bang porno. Sweat and semen and vaginal juices puddle on the carpet of the bedroom. Not one of Gina’s finer moments. Tears streamed down her face afterwards as the guys called her a whore and threw wadded up money at her. She burned it. She was no a whore.
There were many other sexual escapades which blackened her soul with shame. Acts she shared with no one else.
The beast had been put slightly at ease since she met Dan. Their monsters complemented each other. She helped keep him sober and he tried to keep her sexual satisfied. For the last two years, the arrangement worked most days. They still faced challenges. The urge forced her to visit the ladies room on more than one occasion.
Society may not accept them, but they accepted each other and their faults. It was enough to for today.
The cue ball rolled across the green felt and gently tapped the eight ball, which dropped in the pocket with ease. Steve won again and collected his winnings. The malicious monster that possessed him was called gambling.
He owed money to people all over town. He doubled up to catch up. Often he lost. He took many beatings for late payments. His monster hid during those times.
He made cash by hustling pool. The phrase “Betcha a hundo” crossed his lips as often as the word “hello”. The winnings spent on high stakes poker. Anything left, went to the sports bookies.
The realization that his life would come to a violent and abrupt end never crossed his mind. He always believed the next big score waited in the wings and then all debts could be cleared. He would walk away clean and change his life. This delusion was how he survived with the monster.
The last piece of ribeye entered his mouth. He scarcely chewed the piece of meat and swallowed. The man stacked the plates which once contained an extra large steak, double order of fries, several rolls, sixteen chicken wings, and salad loaded with blue cheese dressing. He shook the empty glass, noting the need for yet another Pepsi refill.
Erik's monster was an obvious one. Weighting in at over four hundred pounds, the man barely fit on the stool. The majority of his rotund ass checks hanging over the sides.
Hunger consumed him.
The man couldn't remember when the monster first showed up. Gradually over time, he kept getting hungrier with each passing day. His clothes grew tight. He believed inactivity was the culprit. The monster hid its true intention until one day Erik looked in the mirror and didn't recognize himself. By then change was too late. His chin and neck rolled together. His breasts were larger than some women’s. His dick was hid under a fatty lump and large belly. He was wider than two normal men.
He never had a significant other in his life. And with his appearance, knew he’d never get one. No woman could see past the horrible exterior to admire his inner qualities. He loathed the monster. But still made excuses for it. The hunger remained his only true friend.
Maureen's squirmed in her chair nervously. She searched around for a person to provide a fix. Her monster needed fed. Now. It yearned for the needle to pierce her skin and shoot the sweet drug called heroin into the veins.
She gave up on life and let her beast take control. She became the monster’s slave. The woman robbed, fucked, and performed horrible deeds in order to score. She would kill a muthafucker if needed just to have the moment of ecstasy rush over her body.
Her white, crusty lips cracked as she leaned to the guy next to her and whispered in his ear. He said no thanks and walked away.
She contemplated her next move. She needed to forget her miserable existence.
Carl sat in the corner booth tapping on his computer keys and sipping a Miller High Life. No one knew about his monster. He kept it well hidden from most. Other people seemed to sense something about him was a strange, but couldn't prove it existed. His monster salivated for children. Particularly young, teenage girls.
They were easier for him to talk to than adult woman. These girls were old enough to know better than to speak with a man of his age but usually they wanted to rebel against their parents and did it anyways. Add their changing body to the confusion and these girls made for easy prey.
He would find a girl in a chat room. He'd sympathize with them. He gained their trust. Sometimes he pretended to be one of them, but that made the game too easy. Eventually they would agree to meet. Then Carl's monster would swipe the girl.
The girls were kept chained up in his country house basement. He talked to the girls. Tell them not be scared. He playfully touched the girls, but never in a sexual way. This always led to the monster losing control.
Many bodies were buried in his garden.
The red lipstick painted her plump lips. She examined herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked good tonight. Check that, she was smoking hot tonight.
Then her monster knocked her down to size.
You can still look better Michelle. There's crow's feet sprouting from the corner of your eyes. You're boobs could go up another size. The old ones are starting to sag. And let's not forget the extra fat around stomach. Quite honestly, you look like shit for a twenty-seven year old woman. You're prime is long gone. Not even surgery can help.
Michelle wanted to cry but fought back the pain. She continued to gaze at the ugly girl staring back at her in the mirror, wanting to punch her. No man would want her. Why would they? She was pathetic.
She already owed a lot of money from several plastic surgeries. But she had to find a way to pay for more procedures.
She strutted across the bar to rejoin her friends. All the heads turned to catch a glimpse. The monster convinced her that they watched because she was sickly.
The monster lied. It always lied.
The bar was always full of monsters. Some sat out in the open while others remained out of sight. Each person dealing with it in their own way.
THE END
