My Boyfriend
is a
MONSTER
J.H. COATES
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
1st Printed in December, 2013
ISBN-13: 978-1493742820
ISBN-10: 1493742825
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For Information please forward inquiries to: [email protected]
Cover Illustration by: Mark Shearman
Copyright © 2013 by J.H. Coates
This is for Tami.
Who was with me every step.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Acknowledgment to Mark Shearman who I connected through The Book Cover Designer online. The cover could not have been more perfect. Contact info: shearart.blogspot.com
Acknowledgment to the following, Blue on Blue, Composed by: Burt Bacharach, Lyrics by: Hal David and Recorded by: Bobby Vinton
Acknowledgments to the following, Harry Potter, written by: J.K. Rowling. 50 Shades of Grey, written by: E.L. James. The Stand, written by: Stephen King. Poor Fellow My Country, written by: Xavier Herbert. War and Peace, written by: Leo Tolstoy. Moby Dick, written by: Herman Melville. Treasure Island written by: Robert Louis Stevenson.
His excitement didn’t wane, even when the shop keeper told him it was more of a book for children. In which Nathan replied. “A good book never has an age requirement. A good book is just a good book.”
My Boyfriend is a Monster
“The time period of this quote must be taken into consideration. I do strongly believe in age appropriateness for books, but I stand firm with the second part of the statement. A good book is just a good book. Search them out, wherever they may be.”
J.H. Coates.
.
Middle English Monstre, from Anglo-French, from Latin Monstrum, from monēre , meaning to warn.
Mon·ster
Usually connotes something wrong or evil; a monster is generally morally objectionable, physically or psychologically hideous, and/or a freak of nature. It can also be applied figuratively to a person with similar characteristics like a greedy person or a person who does horrible things.
First Known Use of the word Monster: 14th Century
But Monsters of all kinds have been around since the beginning . . .
CHAPTER 1
ONE: APART
She was beaten into unconsciousness and he was about to commit murder.
Lily tried to open her eyes but she just did not have the strength. Noticing the white blur hanging past her lids she guessed it was at least morning, or the bathroom light was left on. Either way, she blamed it on feeding the slow but constant pounding in the back of her head. As she lay it seemed to be gaining the strength and curiosity to want to explore. Growing more aware she started to feel little whispers of pain popping up all over in tiny little rhythmic beats.
She moaned.
Hearing herself seemed to cause the throbbing in her head to grow. What was just early awareness a mere moment ago was starting to gain momentum. Memories were starting to trickle in like flash cards and she knew the levies would soon break, letting it all just flood in.
“Yeah,” she whispered. Rubbing her temples and starting to feel the flood waters rush over her toes she almost wished he was there to knock her out again. “Right,” Lily said, remembering Rick had hit her. More than once if remembered correctly.
She could piece together parts of their argument, but not how it began. Only that he knocked her out to end it. Chuckling that there was always peace and quiet when knocked out unconscious she was pleased at her little silver lining. Rolling over however ended that and began the chuckling of painful self-awareness. “You don’t have to move yet girlfriend,” she said to herself. Or at least she thought she did, or did she just think it? It really didn’t seem important so Lily just let it go. Knowing no matter how hard he would punch or how hard she would fall, she always woke up. At least that was always her hope as she watched herself fall towards the floor and go racing into the amiable abyss.
How long have I been out? An hour, a day, she wondered. What did we fight over this time?
“Ha, fight,” she blurted hoarsely bringing a sharp new pain to the party. She may have regretted saying it that loud but stood by the sarcastic tone in which it was delivered. Thinking that if their fight was televised as a UFC event not only would people have been extremely disappointed but they would most likely have demanded their money back. Her feeble attempts to throw a punch were not the makings of top ten replays on ESPN. How hard did he hit me? All this thinking was allowing the pain in her head make it to the next level. It seemed they had found tiny little instruments in there and were attempting the world’s worst symphony. The painful chords being struck seemed to be waking up agony all over. Her back were tingling as little bits of hurt started sprouting. She wondered if her head was happy to have gained an ally in the fight to bring her total uncomfortableness. Turning her head she felt a tight burning around her neck that seemed to be determined to join the cause. How much more could there be?
Finally realizing the blur was actually the bathroom light she wondered if it was day or night. Lily let a few moments pass until curiosity gnawed at her enough. Sighing she knew there was only one way to find out. Fluttering her right eye it felt as if it had tiny little weights hanging from the lid. “Shit,” she said realizing something was wrong with her right eye. Lying still for a moment Lily finally remembered. Of course something is wrong with my right eye, that’s where he landed his left fist, she reminded herself and began to open her left one. It was heavy but it was more of an exhausted heavy. And at least she was able to open it. Gazing into the room she was only able to make out obscured objects that were muddy.
She remembered the argument began in the living room. Trying to recall the events as they came to an end she replayed it in her head, Tussle – tussle hit, stagger back, caught balance – hit, stagger again, lose balance and fall. She came to the conclusion that it ended in the living room. He must have put her in bed after knocking her out where she could lay unconscious in comfort. “How sweet,” she whispered sarcastically.
Opening and closing her one able eye repeatedly she tried to bring it into focus. “This is getting old,” she sighed still unable to make anything out clearly.
TWO: In Italy
Walking along the rooftop Yaroslav struggled to see past the sheets of rain slamming past him and exploding on the clay tiles below. Trying to go past each wall of water he searched every shadow for anything out of place. Smelling only the salt from the sea he continued to sniff the air, hoping he would catch a scent. He started to run silently until coming to the end and leapt through the air. He landed on the next roof without a sound. From roof top to roof top he leapt and ran along them as if his shoes didn’t even touch the tiles but rather floated slightly above them. Catching his long coat the wind made it flutter while millions of tiny droplets erupted in chorus all around him.
Seeing him in this very area not two days ago Yaroslav knew he had to be here. Or was he just hunting the hope?
Would he run? he thought to himself then shook the notion out of his head.
Then he heard it, ever so faint but so obviously out of place. Realizing Nathan was moving quickly Yaroslav pierced through the storm searching for him. Catching a sound intermittently he knew Nathan was already ten steps ahead of it and from what he could piece together it was in no pattern he could follow. He only knew Nathan was moving incredibly fast.
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Twitching his nose left then right he suddenly pinpointed it. Picking up the scent meant Nathan was closing in. It was among the thick salt air and dim but it was there. Stopping his entire body and every job it had he stood almost as nervous as he was excited. “I have come long way my friend,” the thick Ukrainian accent announced. Finally exhaling his eyes feverishly searched for an image to go with the essence starting to surround him.
His long black coat had become heavier as he stood soaking up the rain. “My name is Yaroslav the Grand Prince, Yaroslav the Wise . . . maybe you hear of me?” he called out knowing Nathan was very close.
Then from the darkness came a reply. “I have read the history books.”
Yaroslav turned his eyes slightly and caught a silhouette in the shadows. “Nathanial,” he whispered triumphantly.
THREE: The Resurrection Continues
With her left eye now open and almost seeing clearly Lily began working on the right eye. Gently putting her finger on it she cringed in pain and could tell it was raw and swollen. The Blunt force of his fist to my eye socket must of burst open every capillary I have because it is causing some serious hemorrhaging; she thought to herself then laughed out loud. “I can’t believe I not only know those words but I fricking know what they mean,” she said with a hint of proud. “God bless Google.”
Calming down from feeling so delighted in finding something so funny in something so repeatedly horrible she looked around the room with her one good eye. She knew she was in her room and lying in her bed but she wanted to know what needed to be replaced or fixed since usually her belongings would get caught in the cross fire or aftershock. Mirrors were all intact so no seven years of bad luck, she thought and became delighted again. “Thank God, how much more bad luck can I endure?” she asked herself and continued assessing. It didn’t seem like any dressers needed repair or that she needed to hold another Teddy Bear funeral (A ritual of standing above her and ripping apart a childhood memory was not an every fight occurrence but a satisfying one for Rick when performed). Not wanting to hold her breath but it actually gave her hope that maybe the kitchen and living room fared as well.
Noticing it was dark past the window Lily leaned outward from the bed and peeked outside, where she saw it was still dark. Turning towards the alarm clock trying to ignore the sharp pain in her neck she saw the obscured red digital lights. Not giving her any clue of the time since they just sat there on her clock like a big fat red blur she decided she had no choice but to give herself more time. Rubbing her eyes and hoping a good deep rub would help resurrect her vision instead caused her to wince and cry out. Forgetting about the trauma in her right eye and rubbing it like it was normal caused her to curse herself, “Idiot.” She stiffened up and began waving her hands in front of her face like a fan, since everyone knows that’s how you get rid of pain quickly and effectively.
Taking a deep breath she pushed herself upward. Quickly surrendering to the pain she sat back down. Cowering she knew she obviously jumped ahead of herself and decided to just sit and let the pain settle, then she would concentrated on something a little easier. Deciding to go back to the basics she began to slowly blink her one good eye and work on getting the damn muddiness to dissipate. She was starting to come to the conclusion that her right eye was going to be swollen shut for a while and she wouldn’t be seeing out of it anytime soon. At least that was her medical opinion since it didn’t open and when she touched it, it felt swollen and yucky, thus a thorough and sound diagnoses was complete.
Then like the sun rises to begin the dawn, her vision started to come back (in her left eye of course) and the room started to focus around her. It seemed to give her a new sense of confidence. “Come on Lily,” she coaxed as she pushed herself from the bed. This time she yelped in pain and bent over slightly as agony raked across her back. She didn’t have to see it or touch it to diagnose her entire back was bruised from half way up her butt cheeks to the beginning of her neck. Her newly found confidence deflated quickly since she knew everything from here on forward was going to be extremely painful.
“Why do I push him?” she asked herself and almost wished she could spare her left eye because she wanted to punch it. Promising herself three times ago now that this would be the last time Lily was here once again beaten and bruised pathetically blaming herself for pushing him.
Suddenly she wondered where He was. “Guess I should of just left him alone,” she said a little louder, but this time she meant to say what she did. Meaning to be heard in case Rick was still at home and could hear her would make it sound like she was sorry and taking the blame for last night’s events. Listening for any sound to indicate he was home she could not hear any movement, not even snoring. Usually if he was home she would hear the television but even that was not on, so she safely assumed from the sound of silence he had left for the night. This was something he did frequently and something she cared less and less about until finally she began hoping for it, fighting or not.
Trying to bring some moisture to her dry mouth and lips she began to lick at them to start a chain reaction of spittle. She could taste the stale blood crusted on her lips and knew she had to work through the pain to make it to the bathroom. There she could clean up and really assess the damage. Wonder if my health plan covers this, she thought then frowned as the thought reminded her about Todd and Martin. Her two best friends were also her bosses and they were going to be all over her, again. They wanted her to move in with them ages ago but Lily would always find an excuse not to. Lately she has been practically living there . . . and there it was. That was the start of the argument, she remembered recalling Rick yelling that she should be home with him and not with those two “Fags”, as he liked to call them.
Lily thought Todd would probably get Martin to finally shoot Rick if she didn’t leave him this time. And since Martin served in the Marines and actually keeps a gun in the store he just might. Then she got off topic thinking how hot Martin would look in his Marine Uniform and it was too bad that he was gay. Then Todd ruined it since she could only imagine the weird roleplaying games Todd would want to use the Marines uniform for and her sexy Marine distraction became a creepy Todd thing complete with cheesy dialogue. Chuckling she stared at the door way to the bathroom then sighed since it seemed so very far away. “Come on Lily,” she cheered and began her painful shuffle to self-assessment.
FOUR: Round One
Yaroslav stood fast and ready as Nathan finally walked out of the cover of darkness into the open. He was young and handsome and nothing like he was expecting.
“You are Nathanial?” Yaroslav asked, his accent was thick.
Nathan smiled and nodded.
Yaroslav laughed deep and heavy. “But you are little baby.”
Nathan suddenly felt a little offended. “I am over two hundred years old sir.”
He held up his hand trying to make himself stop. “I apologize,” he said calming down a bit. “I hear stories of this Chakan, with the power of all five rings . . . a Warrior.”
Caught off guard Nathan tried to correct him over the noise of the rain. “I never made such a claim.”
Yaroslav continued without hearing him. “Stories of slaughter and murder - and I pray I find such a worthy foe,” he said then paused while looking Nathan up and down. Then he began to laugh again. “Then I find little baby.”
Holding his arms out Nathan tried to look himself over. “I wouldn’t call myself a baby.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Yaroslav stuttered. “Tiny Kitten - with claws,” he said erupting with amusement.
Nathan knew he was only trying to coax him into getting angry and lose his cool which he did not. But it didn’t make it any easier or any less annoying. “I apologize if you find me disappointing.”
Yaroslav waved his hand over his own laughter. “Tell me little kitty, do you have big sharp teeth? Or do you still have little kitten teeth? Maybe you like to gnaw on ball of yarn,” he said making hand gestures as if he had so
me yarn. He led the imaginary string around the ground smiling as if Nathan would begin chasing it.
“You’re really starting to piss me off, Russki,” he said already abandoning his non-threatening humble approach.
Yaroslav stopped laughing. Taking Nathan’s words as an insult he accepted the challenge and began. Throwing his shoulders forward to make room for his body to widen his bones cracked and sang out in unison. Becoming bulkier he clenched his hands creating an explosion of crackles and pops while his mouth started to spasm. Saliva started to pool in his mouth and slide down his chin. Backing up slowly Nathan realized he may have to resort to plan B.
FIVE: A Picture Is Worth a 1000 Words
Standing in front of her full length mirror in the bathroom touching her swollen right eye gingerly and wincing each time Lily couldn’t help but question its authenticity. “It looks, fake,” she said examining it. Deciding to test the theory she touched it a little harder. Crying out instantly she fanned her hand in front of it chuckling at her own stupidity. “Doesn’t feel fake, stupid twat,” she said then giggled and put her hand over her mouth. “I don’t think I ever called myself a twat before,” Lily said trying to remember if she watched any BBC recently. Still amused she reached for the cloth lying on the facet and recoiled as her back screamed in pain. Moving closer to the sink by way of baby steps she let the hot water drown the cloth.
Learning her lesson painfully she decided to just stay in front of the mirror above the sink. Taking the cloth that was beginning to dam up the bowl and wringing it out she began to pat it over her lips. She followed the trail slowly. Letting it soak and flake off naturally rather than forcing it. Gingerly she guided it over the stale blood and then cautiously over the large bubble that formed on part of her lip. Noticing the stains went in two directions she finished off her chin area then pursued a little that splattered across her cheek. Running the cloth under the water again she noticed blood trailing down her neck where it jumped onto her top making little spatters, ruining it.
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