BODY ARMOUR

A mass monster…

Sat in the corner of the gym.

That dimly lit corner was his. No other man would step into its vicinity. If this was a game of territory, then the mass monster had won his space. In that corner he lifted weights that your average man cannot lift…

But he wasn’t gifted.

He had mastered lifting heavy, yes, but his testosterone had been synthetically charged. Steroids had built his BODY, so under that oversized hoody, the one he was wearing with the hood up to hide his face, a hood that hid the disgrace of how really felt about himself, his health was diminishing.