07-18-2015, 10:26 PM
Not all monsters bare teeth and sharp claws. Easy to spot, easy to identify by these telltale signs. It’s the one’s with the subtle features, the ones that make you doubt your own intuition that are the true horrors of the world. Slipping into the fold just as if they were normal. Looking just like you or me. The real danger. The true monster. He arrives without making a fanfare, his ghostly figure sliding easily from the darkness as the moon illuminates his arrival. He is cloaked in the dirt and mud from his travels, pale skin showing beneath the squalor that clings to him. Snowy tendrils disheveled, tangled, disarrayed. His body is smaller, slim, and scarred. A body that relies more on quickness and cunning than brute strength. It’s only those bright unnatural blazing red eyes that could perhaps betray his identity. The rest of him screams normalcy, just another stranger. Another nobody. He isn’t a nobody. He’s an asshole, a murderer, a manipulator, a rapist to many including his mother. Oh that… No big deal. I was just in my bratty angry teenage stage. I grew up. I honed my craft. Nobody remembers that anymore anyways. She died shortly after and he had returned to the Chamber with the exile off his back to wreck havoc and start his own terrible legacy. No obstacle ever seemed to stand in his way. Male or female, young or old. He took them down all the same. Oh he had done great things in the Chamber. Horrible… but great. A smirk crosses his lips as he edges towards the perimeter that marks the start of the open field, wondering about the slave pens and if they still existed. What a great idea that had been. Much fun to be had by all. Why hadn’t he just headed back to the hellhole that was the Chamber? It had been his hellhole, his dark and twisted home that he would never admit he actually cared about. As if he could care about anything. After being gone this long though, might as well see what else there is to offer. Besides, he wanted to have a little fun. Let’s see what bullshit we can pull off today shall we? Long strides bring the cremello stallion into the heart of the open grounds where the others mingle. He can hear the usually invitations for herd life and kingdoms, each insisting why their place was like THE obvious best place ever! Ignoring the usual spiels from the masses, he instead hangs his head and his body sags as if he had just been running for days from his very painful and depressing past and the whole world rested on his shoulders. A lure waiting for a bite. *********the big bad wolf |