The Good Son

Summary: Monster by Naoki Urasawa is by far the greatest thriller you'll ever read in manga/graphic novel form. So much so that it is going to be developed into a motion picture. Following the tale of a young Japanese doctor, Kenzo Tenma, who does the ethical thing by rescuing a young boy who has suffered a bullet wound, over power and politics, the story follows a series of mysterious deaths all across Eastern Europe for a period of ten years. The reader is taken into the mind of a young man who is the product of a program - Kinderheim 511 - where children were forced/brainwashed to become perfect soldiers for a new Germany. Johan and Anna Leibert were raised to become the new faces of Germany - the new Adolf Hitler one might say - but Johan turns the tables on those who created him, taking Dr. Tenma along for the ride.

This is a story that takes place when Johan is young - between the ages of 10-12. The events that take place in this story are not for the faint of heart and contains a scene of non-consensual sex between an adult and a child. You have been warned!

He sat as still as death on the uncomfortable chair, staring blindly at the tattered linoleum floor beneath his brand new loafers. They were brown in color and made a sharp contrast to the pristine white socks he wore. He decided to stretch out his legs a little, so he could see the loafers gleam in the late morning sun that streamed from the narrow windows, but he was afraid that the ‘man’ would come outside to see him do that. He was sure that the ‘man’ would not approve.

And so he sat with his small pale hands clutched tightly on his lap. The long hallway was empty and quite lonesome. There was the heavy smell of dusty furniture and moldy walls. He squint his eyes into narrow blue slits and tried to see what lay beyond the window, but the sun’s rays wouldn’t let him. He realized with a sudden pang that he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since last night. The ‘man’ had said he would take them to a restaurant but so far, the boy had been taken from one strange building to another.

“What are you talking about? Do you realize just how much he is wanted? I could take him to someone who is willing to pay even more for him!”

“Then take him someplace else! Have you seen the look in his eyes?! That boy is a monster! A monster! Get him out of here! Both of you! Get out!”

Their voices, in harried German, continued to rise in the room behind him and he began to hum to himself. It was a song he had heard on television the other night. It was supposedly a war song. The ‘man’ had made him learn the words by heart. However, if he was prepared for what happened next, his young and beautiful features gave nothing away.

The report from the gun was like a crack of thunder in the deafening silence, and the boy stopped humming. His bright blue eyes dulled for a moment and then he kicked out his legs and began to swing them back and forth. He heard the thud of a body falling to the ground, the shuffle of feet and the loud bang of the door opening to reveal the ‘man.’

“Get up!” he grated roughly as he tugged on the boy’s arm. “Walk! Faster now! Don’t look back!”

He did as he was told, but the hot stench of lead and blood still filled his nostrils. He knew he would be haunted by that for the rest of the day and in his nightmares.

They stepped out of the building and into the brilliant sunshine. The boy shivered as the cool air hit his bare legs beneath the short skirt, goose bumps breaking out on his arms since the t-shirt was hardly long enough to cover them. He should have been angry at being made to look like a girl…again, but he was used to it by now and didn’t really mind as much. In fact, being a girl had its perks. He got more candy from nice old people that way.

“Get into the car,” the ‘man’ demanded and he happily slid into the passenger side, making sure his seatbelt was buckled tight. The car peeled out of the driveway and the boy gave a quick look at the abandoned building they had just left. The dead man’s car was still in the driveway and he was sure that by morning the police would come by to see what had happened. He turned around to look ahead, noticing from the corner of his eye that the ‘man’ was trembling with fear. His hands were clenched tightly around the steering wheel, his entire body hunched forward as unintelligible words escaped his lips. The ‘man’s’ eyes were wide and wild and as the boy continued to stare, he could feel a well of revulsion rise within the pit of his stomach. The ‘man’ reeked of sweat and guilt. It really was sickening.

“You…you…always give me trouble….you…”

“Are we going to eat soon?” the boy asked quietly. “You said we were…”

“Shut up! You shut up, you bastard!”

“But you said…”

“I’ll get you food when I feel like it!” The ‘man’ brandished the gun in the boy’s face, darting furtive glances between the road and the boy who looked unfazed at the sight of the weapon. Perhaps he had been threatened with it so many times, it no longer terrified him.

Seeing that he would make no progress with his mad guardian, the boy sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was supposed to be his birthday and it would be Anna’s birthday too. He wondered what she was doing now and if she was thinking about him. He would bet she was in a nice home or still at that orphanage where she would be treated like an angel. He didn’t resent that – at least he didn’t think he did. He had chosen this life for himself after all. For deep down, he knew he was nothing more than an unwanted child – a monster.

No matter how many times it happened, it never ceased to stop the tears from coming to his eyes. He hated the thought of crying for this beast whose massive cock would tear into his anus every other night. He remembered the first time it had happened and how badly it had hurt. He had bled for the better part of the day and had been put in bed with a fever. Walking had been a whole new lesson for him and for a week he had refused to speak to anyone.

He had heard them all – how beautiful he was, how flawless his skin was, how gorgeous his eyes were. He could smell them all – the sweat and their seed caking his tender flesh as they drove deeper and deeper into his body.

The ‘man’ was no different and as soon as they had gotten home, he had driven the boy to his knees before him. Obediently, and used to this, he opened up his mouth to accept the thick, throbbing organ. He would suck as he was commanded to do, struggling to breathe as his head was shoved forward harder. In his mind, he imagined his teeth sinking into the penis and taking a huge chunk of flesh away, but he had once scraped the ‘man’ and had gotten a sound spanking for that little prank. He knew better than to annoy the ‘man’ especially after a trade gone wrong.

And now here he was, lying on his back with his legs spread apart like a little whore on the outskirts of Prague. The tears had stopped flowing long ago and his eyes were now a dull shade of blue – his expression painfully blank as he stopped feeling and simply went with the flow. The ‘man’s’ grunts were becoming louder and louder and the boy knew that he was close to having his orgasm. His young skin was flushed and caked with semen and sweat – shamefully, his and the guardian’s.

“Aaah…Johan…Johan…my beautiful Johan…” the man chanted as he quickened his pace, thrusting harder and faster into the pliant flesh below him. His eyes were closed, his skinny body drenched with reeking sweat. It was a small and rather stuffy room anyway and the boy named Johan hated it.

Slowly…ever so slowly…his hand began to curve toward his left in search of something. Those pale blue eyes continued to watch the man now drooling above him. He felt something cold and heavy settle in the pit of his stomach and to his amazement, his young cock was beginning to twitch to life again. But it wasn’t from the ugly ‘man’ spending himself within him; it was from the feel of the cool object that he now felt against his fingers. He tightened his grip around the weapon and slowly lifted it towards the ‘man’s’ forehead.

“Öffnen Sie Deine Augen,”1 he said calmly. It was a voice that was devoid of any emotion whatsoever and as he watched the ‘man’ open his eyes in surprise, Johan felt his excitement grow.

Fear.

It really was a beautiful thing.

“Wha…how…how did you get that thing, Johan?”

The boy could feel the ‘man’s’ erection wither within his body. Johan held the gun within both hands now, a small cruel smile coming to his features as he continued to watch every expression on the ‘man’s’ face greedily.

The ‘man’ was pulling away now, holding out his hands, with his eyes as wide as saucers. “Johan…give it to me…Johan…you shouldn’t be playing with such things…it’s very dangerous…”

The boy was astute and could see what would have happened if the man had taken another step backward, for there was another gun lying on the dresser beside the bed. It was just so unfortunate that Johan had no plans to let him go.

He pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Three holes filled the ‘man’s’ forehead, left cheek and jaw. For a moment, his body formed an awkward arch in the air, before exploding in a mixture of blood, flesh and teeth. Johan rolled quickly to his left as the body dropped heavily unto the bed. He closed his eyes and clamped his legs together, not wanting to touch himself to release the heavy ache of his erection. He was drenched in blood and knew he had to take a shower. Besides, if he hoped to catch the next train to Munich, he’d have to hurry up.

He rose to his feet and tossed the smoking gun next to the dead man. He walked into the bathroom with a slight limp – still sore from his activities as the clock in the hallway chimed the midnight hour. And as Johan Leibert stared into his reflection in the mirror, he smiled and whispered softly to himself.

“Happy Birthday to me.”



Story Word Count: 1668

Footnotes
1  Open your eyes