"I don't want to be a Monster anymore."
Daniel looked at himself in the mirror as his own words echoed in his head. He examined his face, the small wrinkles that had formed on his brow and the corners of his lips. Little creases forged in cruelty and the ecstatic expressions that contorted his face to extremes. It had stretched and pulled his skin, aging him well beyond his 30 years.
"I'm so tired." He whispered, lowering his head.
His eyes roamed over the sink in front of him. The thick, red splatters that had been dripping down from his idle hands making a mosaic on the ceramic. It was almost beautiful. He shook the thought, finding beauty in the things he does is sick.
Sick.
Sick.
SICK.
He choked a little, swallowing hard. He felt satisfaction mixing with guilt like syrup coating the inside of his mouth. It was sweet. It burned. It made his teeth ache. He retched, feeling the contents of his stomach rebelling, rising as he looked down at the congealing globules of blood clinging to his fingers. He squeezed his eyes tight and twisted the rusted knob for the faucet.
There was a creak. A crunch. A whining squeal as the water forced its way through the aged pipes.
He dipped, being ripped backward to a few hours ago by the sounds. The creak of the door, the crunch of the bones giving way under his tumultuous hands, the squeal of her begging for mercy. The warm water hitting his hands like the essence flowing out of her, onto him, and all over the floor. The metallic smell so strong he could taste it.
Oh, god. How did he let himself do this again?
Monsterous.
She had been cruel to him, yes. But she was more to him than the vagrants he had removed from the streets with vicious efficiency previously. The ones that had been an outlet for the vile poison that bubbled up inside him day to day.
There were at least 40 of them over the last year, he could scarcely remember their faces. They had all become sounds to him now. Their howls for mercy. Their bodies becoming the symphony that played obscene notes under his orchestration. Arpeggio and crescendo, accompaniment to his blind wrath.
But SHE. She had been his chef-d'oeuvre. His magnum opus. A frantic nocturne that tore him asunder to play. And now she is all he can hear.
He opened his eyes and watched the strawberry swirl of her spiral down into the drain. She had become fruit. Sweet, still, plucked and prepared.
Sliced. Consumed. Withered. Rotting.
He fought the urge to vomit once more, tasting bitter regret for the first time in his life. Of all the disgusting things he had done to the bodies he wrought to the ground... this was the worst. And he had done nothing more than extinguish her.
She had found him one Fall day in the park. He had spent the day watching people milling by, lips twisting in sneers at the sight of them. Walking through their lives, jittering through time, blissfully unaware of darkness and pain. Crossing timelines, intermingling, mucking up the order of things. Breeding. So much breeding.
"May I sit?"
A sweet voice floated over him, abrupt like the swift autumn breeze. Freezing him momentarily, knocking the wind out of him, but refreshing his mind. It was an alien experience. It was jarring. He moved his blue eyes to look into the muddy brown waters of hers.
Dirty. She was dirty inside. Her eyes showed it.
Daniel scooted reluctantly to the side of the bench, making far more room than was necessary, giving her a silent acknowledgment and permission. She settled gently next to him, light as a bird, leaving the space undisturbed save for her featherweight presence.
He liked it.
She smelled like warm. Like the color amber. He could pick up hints of old baking clinging to the scarf she wore. It was comforting. She smelled... stable. Her dark hair fell down her back in loose waves like curious fingers. There was a small tinge to her cheeks from the coolness of the air that made her look excited to be there next to him.
For the first time, he found himself wanting someone to stay this close. She was... special. So special that he abandoned his original purpose, his hunt for prey, to timidly ask her to lunch.
From there, 7 years spun like thread and spread like tendrils into his heart. He left his rage untouched for 7 years, she quelled the churning, murderous sea within him. She was the siren calling him to shore. Every morning she was there. Every night her small breaths fell slowly beside him, unaware that she was being held by a Monster. The things he had done baptized away when she said she loved him. He was born again. He worshipped her. Her and her dirty eyes. He laid down every night a new man.
And when she left, he was born again into his sin.
Daniel leaned over the sink, letting the sickness flow out of him now. Splashing onto the floor, dribbling down his chin, his body shaking with sobs. Unconsolable and filled with bile.
Get the poison out of me.
He remembered now, in crisp details as he shook, the note. Her delicate cursive swirling across the parchment. Her writing as beautiful as she was, saying such horrible words. Words like "Never again", "I'm sorry", "I can't do this anymore".
"I hope you understand."
His Goddess had abandoned him, delivering him onto his own darkness, and left nothing but a written diatribe in exchange for his blind devotion. All the times he laid himself on her altar, sullied. The halls of their church, their home, looted of all her relics.
Judas.
Et tu, Brute?
And so he converted. Finding his religion in the music of the slaughter once more. He tore men to shreds, hearing the tinkling of her laugh like cymbals crashing, a leitmotif of her memory.
He sat down on the bathroom floor, feeling the cool tile burn his hot body like frostbite. Splattered with blood and sick, he held his head in his hands. An agonized scream twisted from somewhere deep and hollow inside him. Reverberating like a note in a concert hall.
Once more, Daniel heard the creak of the door in his mind. He saw her standing there, with her keys. In the year since she left, he never changed the lock, hoping... for that moment. The moment that his Goddess would return for her disciple. He was ready to fall to his knees in front of her, groveling for her blessing, begging for her to heal the sickness that plagued him. That only she could take away.
He waited for her, for her to speak. He wanted to hear her voice like an angelic choir. To pull new prayers from her whispers. To drink deep of her and fill his spirit that had diminished and become tainted. From her ethereal lips tumbled words unforeseen.
"Sign the fucking divorce papers, Daniel."
"Stop following me."
"I filed a restraining order but I'm not afraid of you anymore."
He felt his face contort in that wicked shape, his lips curling and grimacing. He heard the wild laughter ring out like frenzied drums. He saw her. Seeing him. Seeing the other him that she had unknowingly loved, that had been quieted while wrapped in her pious shroud.
The music she made. Oh, the music she made as he played every instrument he had ever mastered on her.
Daniel rose from the floor, resting a shaking hand on the doorknob. He knew what laid out there on the floor was no longer his immortal love, but simply a rotting reminder. His Goddess had moved to rule from the stars and was beckoning him to join her in their new kingdom. If she is rebirthed there, surely is her love for him.
King and Queen of all.
King and Queen of light and dark.
He opened the door slowly and strode into the room. Her head rested so innocently on the hardwood floor, turned towards him, her muddy eyes now covered with a milky haze. So white. So pure. So... clean. Observing him and his approach.
He knelt beside her, tracing a finger over her cheek. He placed a hand on the knife still lodged in her shoulder, and wrenched it free, he turned it over in his hands. He heard the overture of a new beginning swelling in his ears as he raked the blade across his throat. Feeling the cold burn of the blade and the hot wash of his blood as it poured from him. An offering to wash away his sin one last time as he laid down beside her and faded away with sputtering, gurgling prayer.
"I don't want to be a Monster anymore."
I hope you enjoyed the piece crafted for you today! The inspiration came, from all places, a reddit writing prompt!
Since today is Halloween for many that celebrate, myself and the Ghost Writer decided to bring you something that is definitely on the dark side!
However, all fiction aside, if yourself or anyone you know is in danger or is experiencing abuse of any kind, please contact someone. Please get help. You don't deserve what is happening to you and people WILL help you get out.
Much loves, @sammosk and Company. <3
