To the grim unflinching light that seared the unguarded retinas, came a form of shadow’s breath that brought the stank of rotten fish. Of form, it had none. Of eyes and mouth, it had none. Yet this beast grabbed and consumed all things as if it were both black-hole and tornado in one. Upon the sweat-slickened tile floor, I slipped. Clunk. Gasp. Heart racing. With neither footsteps nor sound, it neared. Only its stench intensified with proximity. Eyes on the door I locked into a sprinters pose - now or never, live or die, this was it. Go.
Upon seven feet of dense ice stood the monster. From arachnid fists pulsed cleaver-claws. Its one eye was locked onto my form, though I had become as still as the stalagmites. Its chest heaved as its tail switched this way and that, flicking in the manner of an angry cat. My thoughts ran to the thinner ice, danger though it could be. At twelve feet and a canary tall, it would be drowned by its own footfalls. With a flick each of my feet grew a blade and the chase began.
We opened the head of the totalitarians and found two distinct species. One was recoverable and the other was not. The recoverable one loved their nation and was in a bind. If they loosened their grip the coming chaos lost lives and became a threat to internal peace and external security. With assistance, they had a future as a great and peaceful nation. The other kind lacked all empathy and love. Any such statements from their lips were no more than a fig leaf, words spoken for purpose of manipulation. They had become the monster of lore, all hate, all greed, all ego... we cannot rehabilitate such a leader. Yet the abused often find it challenging to acknowledge that they are abused. The bad leader can be as a bad spouse. All we can do is pray their nation gains a new leader of at least the first kind, one who can love them and see them through into an integrated world of kindness and trust. One love. One world. Infinity cultures welcome. Diversity a strength. Noble dark is very different from evil. This is the lesson of opening these heads. This is what we learned.
The basic see 'monster,' the evolved see biology, neurology and need. Move on from 'monster' and then more patients will emerge.
The aliens offered us two monsters and we had to host one of them. The first would only eat bees, the second would only eat gold.
All monsters are losers, for a winner harnesses the dark self to become a hero.
A monster has let their inner evil wolf take over and have thus lost the most important battle every soul was born to conquer.
To trust yourself when all doubt. To lead from a danger only you can see clearly. To explain enable the blind to see. To give people the power to hear the extraordinary in the ordinary, the everyday and normal encryption of the spoken word. To show them the messages and conversations that happen all around us to different levels of the brain. That's quite the challenge. That's quite the challenge when until you can prove it they will think you mad and threaten you with the consequences that come to the insane. To speak and risk the twisting of the knaves of sophistry. That is what they ask. Last time I complied I almost died. I almost lost everything for nothing. So, tell me again why, tell me why this is the time, because even if it is now or never I won't unless I can win. I know more than most what these adventures into the world of the saviours costs... and the cost is never to myself alone. You know what? I do trust myself. I do. It's every other bastard out there I don't trust. This is a world of monsters. So many monsters.
Monsters are too cowardly to face the pain of lost love, to risk an injury in the courthouse of ego, and instead become tools for the creation of hell on Earth.
To the monster I was meat he was meeting, a simple matter of matter to be consumed once the fear had consumed me. That is a monster. That is all of our monsters. They see us for a utility, to meet an addiction or need they have and to them our needs are nothing. So when we are regarded this way we re-guard, and we should. What and whom we love is worth protecting, including the self.
In that empty scream is the pain of the indifferent, of a monster who sold its soul for ease and instead found hell. It can wrap itself in beautiful skin or the rancid hide of the decaying creatures of the abyss, yet I see it regardless of disguise.
The monsters were harnessed up to pull the food supplies through the war zone and they were better than any tank of the modern era.
The monsters who could not bow to the angel voices were slain - not for their mercy yet for ours.
The choices to become a monster are all far more fun and simpler than to become an angel, yet the difference for the effort is night and day.