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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1812761-COCK-OF-THE-WALK
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Supernatural · #1812761
Never forget that - justice will prevail in the end.
"I’ve been cursed!”

This seemingly innocuous statement was having a profound effect on George’s social life as well as his ability to function on a daily basis.

"Are you sure it was a Voodoo priestess and not a nightmare, or even a profound spiritual moment?" asked his friend Jim, the inflection in his voice was one of genuine concern and not condescension.

George glanced across the table at his best friend to make certain he wasn’t being patronized. He noted the deep concern and worry. Of all his friends, Jim had stood by him through thick and thin even in his most difficult moments. Most of his other close friends hadn’t called him in weeks.

Several weeks ago, George and a few of his college friends hit the French Quarter in New Orleans. They were there for one reason, and one reason only…to get laid.

After several hours without luck on their part, George decided to strike out on his own. He assumed the group was hindering his ability to score. George was a very athletic male, a leader on several college sports teams, and he never had any difficulty scoring with the girls on campus. In fact, it was too easy; when he didn’t score, he resorted to date rape. He always got what he wanted.

Less than an hour after leaving the gang, he met a raven-haired mulatto beauty serving drinks in an out of the way bar that was hidden on a deep side street. Even with repeated attempts to get her attention, she continually rebuffed him, which made him angry and more determined than ever to have her.

Frustrated and angry, he waited until the bar closed in the early morning hours and followed her home. It was then that George did something he would ultimately regret. He forced himself on her, but told himself that she really wanted him. He told himself that his alcoholic stupor got the best of him, but in reality, it was his arrogant, self-centered personality.

After the deed was done, the beautiful young girl screamed at him and told him she was a Voodoo Priestess, and she placed a curse on him. “Je vous mardis, grand home de robinet!” she screamed. George laughed at her and left.

When he told his friends what he had done, at first they thought he was simply telling a good story, but when they realized that he was genuinely sincere and still shaken by his strange experience, they became quiet and reserved.

"I’m telling you, she put a curse on me," George stated, playing with an olive in his drink. "And, you know that I am not the type of person to make up such a fantastic story. Plus… there are other things bothering me now."

"What other things?" Jim quickly asked.

"Things," George replied, looking down at the water rings on the dirty bar table.

Jim gave him a hard stare insinuating that as his best friend those ‘things’ should be brought out for discussion.

After a few moments hesitation, and a quick glance around the room, George bent over and whispered across the table. "My penis is shrinking!"

"Hello!" Jim replied with a guffaw. "We all have a shrinkage factor.”

George glanced back down at the table in serious thought as if he was trying to figure out what to say next. "My uh… thingy is sore and my nuts are shrinking too. On top of that, I’ve lost height and weight. I was six feet one; I’m down to five eleven and dropped fifteen pounds.”

"Whoa!" Jim blurted. "You’ve got to be kidding?"

George shook his head while glancing around the quiet bar to make sure no one had heard. "I told you I’ve been cursed. I felt a burning sensation in my breasts and down there when I woke up today. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t know what she did to me!"

"Have you been to a doctor?

"No way!" George spat. "I don’t want someone poking around down there. I haven’t even told my parents about the... They’d probably accuse me raping the bitch. If I mentioned my problem they’d just say I got drunk and got royally screwed." They halted their conversation when two more friends invited themselves to their table.

Over the next few months, George became more and more concerned and frightened. He continued to lose height and his body became smaller and softer. His voice started to change, sounding more like before he went through puberty.

"She’s turning me into one of them things!" he yelled at Jim. Having no one else to confide in he had phoned his best friend and arranged to meet him at his home. “She’s turning me into a zombie!”

"I think it’s time for you to get professional help," Jim replied, aware that something should be done. "Perhaps it’s just something normal, something we have never read or heard about. Maybe they can give you something to stop the changing."

"It’s not normal! She cursed me!” George cried. "My sex is disappearing. Every day it gets smaller and smaller. She’s probably a sexless zombie creature and she’s coming to get me when I finish changing!"

"It’s OK," Jim whispered. "It’s going to be OK!  She can’t be sexless if you had sex with her."

"I can feel my entire body changing," George cried. "My bones hurt, my breasts hurt, my sex hurts, and my mind is exploding."

"Like you said, this is not normal," Jim replied. "I really think we need to talk to your parents so they can take you to the doctor." George did not answer but continued to stare out the window.

The conversation with George’s parents went well. Although skeptical at first, they finally admitted that something unusual was happening to their wonderful athletic son. His father decided that medical help, or at least medical advice was the best route to take.

Unfortunately, their family doctor could not diagnose the problem. He recommended a doctor who specialized in unusual hormonal growth, who in turn recommended another specialist, who recommended another, and so on. After several months of seeing a host of medical specialists, they were nowhere close to identifying the mysterious changes taking place in his body. And his body continued to change.

George stopped seeing his best friend Jim. At first, Jim tried to call him and go see him but continued rejection finally made him angry and bitter. He also noticed that George stopped coming to college. He was sure they still lived at the same address because he had driven by the house several times and spotted his mom through the front window. Jim finally decided that if George wanted nothing to do with him, he wanted nothing to do with George. After all, he had done nothing wrong, he had always been there for George when he needed him. If George didn’t need him anymore, so be it. He could live without George and his… odd problems.

Jim changed his group of friends. Over several months, he finally realized that the group George ran with, the group he had started, was a bunch of losers destined for nowhere fast. George always thought of himself as a real ‘cock’ of the walk.

Jim threw his book bag down on the metal bleachers and leaned back to watch the latest batch of cheer leading recruits go through their moves. Some were good, most would never make it. He glanced down and noted a discarded newspaper resting several seats down from where he was reclining. He didn’t read many newspapers, the news was always bad, and he had enough studying to keep his mind occupied.

There was something about the photo on the front page that captured his attention, and the unusual headline jumped out at him.

The headline read, “Chicken Man Discovered.”

“Some crazy joke,” Jim thought, reaching for the paper. He started perusing the article.

Police found the body of a strange man in a heavily wooded area just outside the Mayfair Development,” the article read. “An apparent suicide, the coroner’s office was unable to identify the remains even though decomposition was not advanced. The remains were transported to the University lab for analysis by a scientific forensics team.

Professor J. Peterson stated that it was an incredible anomaly. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” the professor stated. “The body is definitely a male, but the physiology is all wrong. Either it is a strange case of unparalleled sequential hermaphrodites, or an unusual case of heteromorphic evolution.”

When asked what that may mean in layman’s terms the professor stated, “Although physically it is a human male body, the sex is that of a rooster or any other member of the male bird family. No external genitalia.”

Jim sucked in a deep breath as soon as he got a close look at the features on the slightly blurred photograph.

It was George!



Word Count – 1,498







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