THE FOLLOWING CONTAINS SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER. READER DISCRETION ADVISED.
Some people are born more than different; they're dangerous and the most extreme are a danger to society's most vulnerable citizens. Some choose to act out while others fight what's inside of them. So what happens when someone spends their life denying who they are one day finds them self slipping? How far is one person willing to go to protect the innocent from their wicked desires?
He wasn't afraid of death, not even the pain he might feel as the bullet ripped through him and splattered his brains all over the stark white wall behind his hand-me-down kitchen chair. Instead the end, despite the mess it'd leave, was a welcomed release. He looked forward to placing the barrel of his father's Smith & Wesson between his chapped lips and squeezing the trigger. He had no concerns about whether his corpse would be found before ending up inside the dog's belly - he didn't care if anyone ever stumbled across his remains. As long as he could keep from becoming the monster he was born to be, his body could be lost till Armageddon and beyond and that would be fine with him. He was ready to end the eight year war he'd been raging against himself. It was time for peace.
Since the day he first realized what made him hard and hot, the deranged sexual gratification he yearned for, he forbade himself from any and all intimate contact. He'd never been fucked, touched or even kissed; he even went so far as swear off pleasuring himself for fear of what disturbing mental image would appear while he worked himself and made him spill seed. He did everything he could to not become one of them - perverts who thrived on acting out their sick, twisted fantasies.
It was better to be dead than to feed the insatiable hunger that stirred within and grew stronger each moment he breathed. He would end the temptation, once and for all, that plagued every moment of his existence. He so feared the beautiful, half naked bodies that passed by, and the urge to reach out and have them, that he had only one defense left.
He was going to kill himself.
There was nowhere for him to go that was safe from the wickedness inside of him. When even a simple stroll to the corner store brought him unspeakable pain and shame, he knew it was time to end his suffering.
That morning, he had no thoughts of death. When he left his apartment, all he wanted was a fresh cup of coffee, a Cuban and one of the many trash rags that littered the front window of The Food Shoppe. While he waited in line, he caught sight of glistening skin, shaggy blond hair and deep blue eyes he could lose himself in wearing only flip flops and swim trunks. He wanted the sun-kissed god in ways he'd be ashamed to admit to later, even to himself. He reached deep down and found the strength to look past the temptation, even when that temptation smiled sweetly at him. Later, as he used the rest rooms after spending time alone in a dark theater to collect himself in peace, his blond god appeared at the urinal beside him.
Just a glance, Temptation whispered, just one teeny peek at what you deny yourself. You know you want to, so just fucking do it. No harm in looking, right?
He did. And the moment he laid eyes on what he swore he'd never touch, his flesh began to stiffen. He quickly dashed from the restroom and ran home, where he could wait out his raging hard on in peaceful solitude.
Once there, safe and alone, he remembered his father's gun. The old man had willed it to him even though he'd never shown any interest in firing it. He retrieved it from the back of his closet and stared at it, as though the answers to his questions were hidden within the small metal weapon.
He was filled with dread his wandering eye had been noticed and feared the people of him hometown, those he'd known his whole life, discovering his secret. It was bad enough knowing he was a monster who deserved the eternal flames of Hell but for everyone to know his deepest shame would cause a pain even Death himself could not end. He chose to end his misery before the monster inside was too strong to control.
He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. As the small piece of lead launched it's way into his dry mouth, time slowed and he found himself reliving every evil thought and sick fantasy he'd ever known, from the time his body first reacted to wrong things at the tender age of fourteen to the sinful thoughts he had about the angelic blond god beside him in the theater restroom. His stomach tightened as his unnatural desire turned to him, body exposed and ready for the pleasure he'd so long been denied by himself, and whispered words he never thought he'd here.
And in his mind, he did, while in his heart, he cursed himself; he despised every moment even while his body shook with pleasure. In his last seconds before Death took him away, he felt such shame and disgust for the thoughts that would follow him to the afterlife; in his weakest moment, he had given in to what he'd spent so long battling.
He knew if there was an eternity after life left him, he would forever be tormented and believed he would deserve every moment of his damnation.