Monsters overran the lands they called home. They subjected the people around them to more horrors than anything ever thought of, and they were what most people referred to as 'horrible'. After all, where do you think they got their name? The dictionary definition of the word 'Monster' is a cruel, wicked, or inhuman person/thing. Sadly, people thought they were imaginary until they met them.

However, this is not the story of any one monster that fits that definition. In fact, the monsters depicted in this story fit another definition of the word, a person, animal, or plant with a marked structural deformity.

There is a place known as Juxtabella's Institute for Impaired Male Monsters, that takes in such downtrodden souls. Parents of 'defective' or 'impaired' monsters send their children here, either to try and get help or to hide them from the world. While it takes the pretense of a school, that does not mean much to Juxtabella. Sure, she has teachers there who take care of the students, but even once you graduate you can't escape.

Of course, you aren't told this until that graduation comes. Those who already live there are kept in a separate area that the students aren't allowed in. It certainly makes for an interesting school, though.

The first to arrive of the new students just so happened to be a young werewolf, holding the tentacle of his foster brother as he stepped up with utter wonder written on his innocent little face. His face was soft and still held some roundness of youth, his eyes large and a mixture of lavender and lilac, nose small and lips full. Curiosity burned in those eyes, even if they were somewhat hidden by the wildly styled sunflower petal colored hair that looked soft as a puppy's fur.

His name was Bell, and his introduction to the Neis family had been through the youngest brother, who had found a young Pomeranian puppy and brought it into the home. Before the family knew it, they had adopted a young man into their family who could switch between a Pom, a human, and a mixture of the two. While he wasn't very manly to begin with, it didn't help that he only ate dog food in order to not have to kill and eat things. He was kind of a sissy.

Among more students to file in was another freshman, and a close friend of Bell. Terrance Regencee was a very interesting young man, choosing to live his life going against his family name of 'Zombie', by sticking to animals when he had to, and otherwise draining his victims of blood, regardless of what they were. He was fun to talk to, and definitely had his opinions on things.

His own body wasn't as rotten as he was supposed to be, and his bones didn't snap very easily. His eyes seemed dead and were glassy, but still a pretty golden orange. His hair hadn't fallen out, or receded, he looked cute with the dark brown ringlets hanging off his head, long enough to his the tops of his shoulders. His skin was pale, almost a gray, and sometimes his joints stuck and his body remained stiff until he warmed up. His face seemed sharper, but not in an unattractive way. Not that he was the most attractive, either, with a strip of his cheek skin half-peeled down his face, exposing a thin sheet of muscle between his inner and outer cheek.

There were weirder things among the crowd, as well. One of those being a large creature that looked much like a centaur, but a blue and white jaguar version. His face held the shape of a cat's, almost, but a short head of dirty blond hair sat atop his head. Lime green cat eyes looked up at the school, built into a cliff, with some kind of decided wariness, and as his large paws padded against the dirt, he found himself staring at a particular window.

The window intrigued him and made him want to go closer and find the room that lay behind it, but he found himself drawn away by the teachers directing them into the school. Oh, this is lame, He thought, shaking his head some and sighing out a gruff. This was annoying, and his tail, long and pronouncedly thick, flicked from side to side.

Only to be stepped on by a rather odd-looking boy. A pair of large, thick circular-framed glasses took up most of his face, the only things able to be seen otherwise were a small, rounded nose and thin, almost chapped-looking lips. His skin was pale, and held something of a sick, greenish hue. His hair, though, was what was a sight to behold.

Snakes, as brilliant green as the grass, twisted and twined off his head, laying about his face and snipping at one another. There were at least twelve of them, winding around that pale head and around his neck. The eyes behind the glasses, despite being squinted near-shut, were a decent gold when fully open, with a blurry-looking snake-like pupil in the middle.

Beside him, an unhappy owl pecked and bickered with the snakes, clacking it's beak and flexing its talons. While it seemed aware not to eat the snakes, it seemed to be something of a feat. When he wasn't focused on those, though, he seemed unnaturally nervous, shifting and flapping sometimes when he was worried the most.

He could have been a white owl, but he was bleached in the way that only an albino could be. And his eyes, when looked into, were a kind of purple that bordered on the edge of magenta, meaning that he lacked proper pigment. So, albino, it was. Nobody had really heard him speak, yet, but he soon slimmed down quite a bit when one of the snakes struck for him, glaring and using one wing in what appeared to be a cape-like manner, resembling Dracula. It was kind of cute.

Bringing up the rear of most of the students was a young man that didn't really look very different at all. He simply had donned a pair of black, sleek cat ears and a small, bobbed tail. He looked up with eyes mixed green and gold, a look that clearly read 'Really? Really?' shot at the building he was making his slow way towards.

His clothes were baggy and comprised of a thick black hoodie, and dark black and purple Tripp pants, complete with straps, chains and handcuffs. He even wore thick boots over his feet, lined with purple fluff. A sigh broke the air around him with fog and he rolled his eyes, the teachers around him, already established, seeming to just be far too annoyingly happy and naggy for his liking.

That, of course, was only a small handful of students. Who knew what the school year would play out as, now.

There was almost anything a monster could hope for to learn how to overcome their problems, how to become the perfect monster like their parents and relatives. After all, who wanted to be the one left out, watching everyone pass you by, never even looking other than to put you down even farther than you already were. No. This school was supposed to help all that, especially since how could they ever be passed by like that if they never saw the outside world again, right? Even the teachers seemed stuck there, part of the whole package, an accessory for the schools structuring as long as they stayed silent on what would happen at graduation... The teachers were so silent about it... It made one wonder if they even knew the reality of it all there at Juxtabella's...

In the second bunch of students coming in was one not what one would consider a monster, its first downfall, with button eyes, clothes hanging loosely over the stuffed body. The only reason he "lived" was the nanobots that made up his bones and tendons, otherwise he was a sack of fabric. Granted, the voodoo magic in him made him something of a treasure, just dress him up right, put on the right body parts and he would adapt to curse who or what you chose. Cut off his finger while he was dressed like that, the parallel lost their finger. It was wonderfully delightful to him when his emotions, the spirit cursed into the body to begin with, began to get riled, otherwise you just had to watch out for those detachable hands that would hunt you out for a nice groping. Yeah... He was one hell of a pervert and proud of it as he groped at one rear only to get smacked in the face with a braid before the fist caught him.

Said fist came from a steaming Druid, who read the name tag of the doll that fell to the ground... "I dare you to do that again you sad excuse for a monster, Johnie Vex. i could simply put a rune over your chest and you'd disappear." His tone held nothing but utter contempt for someone like this, something that went against nature just by existing. But... He couldn't really call himself a monster either, unless you counted in his selfishness that made his runes mess up and disobey him. The school was supposed to be able to help with that so that Speir could protect and honor his small clan that awaited his return he thought in his head... He wouldn't know for years of the treachery of his clan, that they had sold him to the school to get rid of him and take his status from him. Oh, the suprises he would be in store for as the years passed him by, and arriving was just the beginning.

Attempting to stay far away from it all, trailing in the back with a almost cynical noise perpetuating from him, was a gryphon. He had his small maned head lowered, those red eyes watching carefully, noting all skitishly as his feathers from his wingers ruffled slightly. Those feet of his were no pads but talons, large and threatening, digging deep into the earths tender flesh with each step he took. Then there was the snake, red as the eyes with black striped with a little bands of dark brown in between. That small tongue flickered as he spoke, "s"s stretching as he did so, those slit eyes uncaring of the rest other than the lion head, constantly talking, making his mind a roaring mess. This was why he stayed back, he was cowardly, pathetic, could fly with only little weight on him, no more than ten pounds and the snake exposed his whole life for others to hear. Oh, how he hated that snake yet the snake loved him, whispered his name to him over and over when he wouldn't respond. It was almost like schizophrenia for the pitiful "monster" but it would never go away, not with pills or anything unless he wished to lose his tail, so there he trudged, his own forked tongue mimicking the snakes as he walked along by himself yet amongst a whole crowd.

Please no influxes. Please no influxes. PLEASE NO INFLUXES... No magic, no magic... Any influx in the magic around him almost felt like a curse, his tiny body shifting into a large beast known as a Tairen, a beatiful and sleek cat over sixty feet long with lightly furred bat wings that stretched well beyond that sixty. For once his ears weren't stuck with him or his poisonious fangs but his hands were well covered, the venom from his tail hidden in them and he kept from yawning. His powers were unstable, if he opened too wide the venom in his teeth would release and the fire would ignite it, burning down whatever was in his path and too his kinder soul, he dispised that. His sandy brown hair was as sleek as his fur almost other than the small bit in front that wished to curl, to be obnoxious and rebellious no matter how much he attempted to get rid of it. They were a nice contrast to his slate gray eyes though, eyes that were slit but held no inner malice, just a wariness of himself and open care for others around him. He just prayed constantly that no one would use magic for the moment so that everyone came out whole and not a pancake under his huge paws. Please no influx... No magic... No influx... No magic...

"It's key lime pie green and a siren is more than welcome to be male and have different eyes. I may be water but that doesn't mean I have to have water tone eyes. They are key lime pie green and not just plain green." Someone had been foolish enough to steal his headphones away then to insult his different eyes but that just meant that the siren could lecture them. Granted he wasn't very intimidating, his body meant to tempt, to cry out that he was a living sex god and his voice was lyrical but... He couldn't sing. All his notes sounded horrible and he couldn't attract a female using it to save his life. Or that of his sister he had lost to a ship one year. This was why he needed to learn it better, to become a temptress without being female, so he wore a skirt that hung so low those hips showed and he was barely covered, a package obvious for any who cared to look. The length came only to mid thigh and, to top it all off, it was a tie up not a real skirt and there was no shirt on his body. As he finally got his headphones back, muscles rippling like waves on the water, he slid them over his ears, long pale hair hanging down his back comfortably and once again he attempted to hum his parents tune to the music.

Hanging close to his foster brother, Argo had to focus on his steps, the suckers on each of his four tentacles for walking holding together to make a single pair of legs. His arms were straight down and his extra two tentacles seemed to dangle like dead weight from his sides, the color constantly shifting to fit his surroundings, working almost like the chameleons one could find in the real world. He was great with hiding, his body adjusting even its contours and textures to fit but his colorless eyes were watchful. He was wise, a strong monster indeed, A Kraken through and through... except his lack where he most needed it. No one would know this but his brother and private instructor here, he was cautious with his secrets just like his younger sibling who seemed to disappear constantly, to fall in love just for the kindness shown him and like any other dog, he needed constant attentiong and training not to destroy something important. Small or not his brother was a large mess when it came to things in public it seemed so Argo was forever the responsible one watching out for the other.

One final strangler was left, picking to stick in the air currents at the moment, the thin leather of his wings holding him up nicely as the string in him strained some under the pressure. As long as he didn't push it too far, there would be no problems but much more strain than it already had and he would completely collapse, all those bleached bones scattering about and waiting for a tender hand to put him back together... Yeah but he wasn't really a new student, having already been there for a year or so but still no one helped him it seemed. He just trudged along by himself, rattling bones with string holding him together, a brain resting in his cranium in a liquid bubble with a cord through the spinal region... He was a true failure for anything scary, kind-hearted (okay, there was no heart but that didn't matter to personality), mediocre in intelligence, no magic, held together with string and just had to be tugged in one joint just right to unravel. No one would be scared by something so pathetic, not in another million years even if he worked at it.