You want to know why I am the way I am? Why all of us are, the way we are? It’s because of you. Because of society.
You run from us, fear us, call us monsters. But what are you? A victim? Ha! No. You are, all of you, vermin. A plague tearing this pitiful planet apart. You break us down, beat on us until we have no faith in the world, no emotion. It’s Your fault!
It’s funny, they say blood is thicker than water. But you can’t even trust family. I know by example. My parents met in a bar. That could already sum it up. I was an only child, as my siblings were all adopted. Mom chose the bottle over us. She left before my first birthday.
Dear old dad was always working. Only logical choice he had was to always drop me off at my cousins, we played all sorts of games. “Force Larry into a dog cage and roll him down the stairs,” or “Shoot at him with a BB gun for amusement,” and my personal favorite “Turn Larry into a pit dog and make him fight the other kids,” winner gets fed. They abused me for eight f*****g years! But the youngest of them, Kolbe, was the worst. He jumped at every opportunity to break me down emotionally.
It wasn’t until the 5th grade that I finally snapped. He cornered me in the lounge area, held a knife to my neck. I felt something then. The fear was gone. With it, went all emotion. You know what I did? I ripped that goddamn knife out of his hand and grabbed him by the trachea. Not the whole throat. Just the trachea.
The look of fear that filled him was perfect. I threw him to the ground. I told him to try that again. And you know what? He f*****g did! He got up to his feet and went to charge me into the wall. Without thinking I broke his father’s favorite pool stick off of his back. He staggered with every ounce of strength I had left, I tackled him into the glass pane door. It shattered leaving us both tumbling onto the porch, glass everywhere.
He tried running to his parents auto shop to get them. So I simply threw a chunk of cement. It flew 20 feet and hit him in the back of the neck. He dropped immediately. He lived, and I wasn’t allowed there anymore. I haven’t gotten those urges until high school, I was the kid that got beaten up alot in school. I was smaller and weaker than the other kids, and that made me an easy target.
It didn’t stop until I chased a bully down the street with a katana. After that was by far the worst experience of my (human) life. I got engaged. She was pregnant. She was killed by a demonic cult, based on anarchy, and they made it personal. I tracked them down. One by one.
Each of them. Less dignity than the last. Until I got to the leader. He killed me. And that was his mistake. You see, when that son of a butch carved out my still beating heart and offered it to that demon, Zalgo. He didn’t make an offering of a sacrifice, he made an offering of a proxy… me.
That horned a*****e gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
“Die and go to hell where I’ll never get to be reunited with my fiancée and spent an eternity in suffering,” or “Take souls and bring discord to the world in honor of my master.”
I think I made the right choice. Don’t you? I know you do. I can can feel it. You get it now don’t you? You felt the urges? Deep down. Go ahead. Act on em, because all it takes is one thread to be pulled, and the world unravels into chaos. Glorious chaos.