Fiction Short Stories

Living Evil

I know who I am. I know the eternal battle inside my body that controls me. I am familiar with the struggle between good and evil because I am the living proof of the war between heaven and hell. But, I think the monsters have won this time, because I feel the good has slipped away from me.

When did I become the monster that everyone feared I would become. The cold, black darkness consumed me like smoke from a wild fire and I am the living outcome of something I didn't know could happen.

Why did it become so easy for me to take life away? How did I learn to speak with words so sharp, they cut? What caused me to hide my pain and push away my emotion. This time I don't think I care anymore.

I am a monster and nobody could love a monster.

I've accepted what I am, but others cannot. They fear me for my ruthless nature and my strength that they cannot fight against. So they shut me out, hoping I will rot away slowly like an apple in the heat of the sun. But, they don't know my power.

The mask I wear is too thick for them to penetrate. I slither between them like a venomous snake, poised and ready for the kill, because I can and the fire of hell runs in my veins.

Although, I yearn to feel the love the good angels feel, and the aching pain of loneliness to go away. I know, I can never have that because my heart is too cold and their judgement to harsh; like the ocean that covers the earth, this fact will never disappear.

So, my only friends are fear and power which I weild like weapons on my friends, and enemies. For, I know what I am and I can live with what I am.

Because I am a monster.