[Observing Future]

How do you explain to the ones you care for.

That nothing matters anymore.

I miss the simple times.

When I did not have to think.

I gathered the vestiges of unlife my Master needed.

I fought, mindlessly.

I miss the times when I was bones.

When I was rot.

When I was decay.

Now I am this caricature of a woman.

A woman so many despised.

Sometimes. I want to rip off my face.

Sometimes I want to scream.

Sometimes I want to hurt everyone.

And everything. I am unnatural.

That is fine. That is okay.

I am not okay.

I do not care.

My Master said my soul was that of a sinner.

A violent sinner.

And in truth? The moment I was unmasked.

I expected to keep fighting.

To fight for my life.

And yet somehow. It went unnoticed.

Willfully? Accidentally? Purposefully?
I wish it had not. I crave. Violence.

I like the jingle of coins.

I want to hurt people.

I want to hurt people.

I want to hurt people.

I. Want. To. Hurt. People.

I want to be hurt.

....

Hmm. I've been sitting on this sofa for two years now.

Give or take.

Quite some time. I hope I did not scare him.

I hope I did not upset her.

[Observing Future]

There is an obligation to hide what I am.

I think I have grown to detest this obligation, no matter how important it is.

I slip up. Sometimes. Purposefully. Against the shroom that let me feel.

Feel like I could cut loose, dance, sway and swing.

To tempt the curious and the cautious, into becoming reckless and willing.

It is a beautiful thing to spark the inner thoughts of humanity.

To watch them shed away those fears. Those inhibitions, and to just...

Be themselves. And yet.

You cannot be more true to yourself than the mystical beasts.

No matter the words spoken, you know exactly what you are dealing with.

A people capable of immense growth, and intense unyielding violence

A people who are truly free, to do as they please.

Some seek purpose in the friendship and spiritual contracts of mortals.

To have someone point at something, to attack, to grow. I find that...

Equally beautiful.

Others mindlessly revel in their own emotions and desires.

Even more succumb to their own hunger, vices, and instincts.

I've yet to meet a mystical beast that I did not truly enjoy.

Even the Monarch seeks to control and command.

I want them to grow.

I want them to fight.

I want them to destroy.

Destroy every. Living. Breathing. Settlement.

Rip down the walls.
Tear away the civility. The lies. The denials.

Remove the social constructs and chains humanity has built.

....

....

....

Creator, I think I am a mistake. I cannot.

Stop the rampant violence.

The unyielding desire to hurt.

To be hurt.

Yet I do not desire to kill.

I do not seek to burn the pages of their woven stories.

Merely to inspire them to seek to do so to mine.

Or to find their own ink to write upon parchment.

Win or lose.
I always win.

Win or lose.

I always win.

Win or Lose...

When will victory taste sweet again....?

[Observing Future]

I have lost something.

And I may never get it back.

And it is all because.

Of one I am grateful towards.

But if I am grateful. Why am I angry.

Dreams punctured.

Bleeding. Battered. Endless violence.

I am angry.

I am infuriated.
I want to wake up.

I want to

Wake up.

I want to.

Wake up.

I want to.

Wake Up.

Have I not been good. Forty-Four. Fifty-six from one hundred.
I could have kept going.

But you worry.

And worry.

And worry.

They would have found nothing.

If you had a sliver of faith.

I am so.

Mad.

I am so mad.

It is all I can feel.

It is all I can see.

It is all red.

Red.

Red.

Red.

The blue in my life was beautiful.

Passionate.

Loving.

Caring.

Now?

Silent.

I am a good Servant.

I am a good Servant.

I am a good Servant.

A slave never questions.

Why

Do

You
Hate

Me

Master?