A Monster Was Born ✔️

Fairy Tale (Part II)

And so the young girl walked the hours through the thickness of the woods to her home. In her mind, she thought about what the cat said and what it meant, but was ultimately unable to come to a conclusion. Such a dense one, this girl was. Not even a thought about whether or not the cat was telling the truth, whether its words were made with sincerity or deception. Instead she believed in the things that look harmless, not knowing its often the harmless looking things that destroy what we care about most. But alas, I digress.

While she continued down her path, the animals and monsters and criminals slowly began abandoning her, drawing away into the shadows, readying themselves to search for other prey. Once they realized the darkness that lay in front of her path, the darkness that would eventually consume them if they continued following her, even the most ruthless beast became uninterested.

She picked up little stones as she went to aid her in the fight against the demon. Little girl might have been not the brightest but she knew not to go into battle empty handed. The stones she picked were round and hard and shone brightly even in the undercover of the night. Some beamed a melancholy blue as deep as her eyes while others radiated colors in green, orange, a dingy yellow. Perfect for channeling magic.

She arrived at her home, a simple structure made of wood and grass that her father had built. Her pockets were filled with stones.

The grass surrounding her house had been blackened with death, like burnt up carcasses. Flocks of ravens perched on her roof, cocking their little heads as though admiring the diseased spell beneath them. A misty haze consumed the place, coating all that it touched with silence and confusion.

The girl gulped as she realized her suspicions were true. The demon had grown stronger, and as a result, a new kind of wrongness had taken over the house and the area around it. The girl's body shook in trepidation as she moved closer, knowing that she had no choice. Her family was gone and it was up to her to avenge their deaths. To her, there was no other road to turn back to. She remembered the faces of those she lost, the utter terror on them as the demon tore their bodies apart, the screams that shook the room, and those memories made her determined, overriding the fears of the horrors to come.

She placed her fingers on the doorknob, opening the door. But when she looked in, there was nothing. No blood on the walls, no corpses rotting on the carpet, no whimpers or moans. Instead, everything looked clean and in their rightful place.

The girl held her breath. Maybe this was all just a dream. She looked around cautiously. Still nothing.

"Mom?" She said, a nervous edge to her voice. "Dad? I'm home."

For a moment, there was no response. But then she heard her mom call from the kitchen, her voice sounding exactly the same as before: "Isabella? Honey, where have you gone? Come here, I have prepared some delicious sandwiches for you. I've been waiting for you to come back but I don't know why you have disappeared for so long."

The girl felt her chest settle with relief. Her mom was ok. Was what she remembered a mistake, after all?

"Coming, mom!" Was what she yelled before racing towards the kitchen where her mom was supposed to be.

Of course, there was something that the girl didn't know. Demons are too persistent to let go once they take hold of their prey, and they can often be greedy too, putting out a trail of crumbs to lead the little Hansels and Gretals out of their nests and into their mouths full of fangs. Thus, when she reached the kitchen and saw the truth, her mouth dropped and her chest quivered with fear.

Her mom stood there, smiling, as though all was normal. Except it wasn't. Her skin was the color of ash, rotten from the inside, and her limbs were crooked as the joints bent themselves in awkward positions. There were patches of skin that were sewn hastily, nasty stitches covering gaping holes in her abdomen and chest as though she were a stuffed-up doll. Dead eyes stared into that of the girl's, hollow and dark.

The girl stumbled backwards and almost fell. She wanted to say something but all she could do was stay silent, processing the scene before her. Her beautiful, strong mom, her mom who raised her since she was a child, who gave her money to spend, who read her books at night when she was afraid, reduced to nothing but a corpse puppet. The girl tried to feel something, to cry out for her, but she couldn't. All she felt was emptiness inside where her soul used to be.

Her mom smiled again, and it looked strange through those cold, bloodless lips of hers. "Come on, Isabella. It's your favorite, ham and cheese. You should eat them before the rats get to them."

Then she turned to the backdoor and yelled, "Honey, Isabella's home!"

A figure with skin just as pale and dead came in through the door. Unlike the girl's mother, his arm was not attached to his body, but dangled by his side with the help of some loose stitches. His white hair was a mess and the teeth in his mouth were crooked as he tried to smile.

No, the girl thought, her mouth gaping in horror. Not dad too.

As though sensing her distress, the demon finally appeared. Its presence felt like death, like children crying for their blood, pure, unfiltered evil. It looked human, but the girl could tell it didn't really have a shape, just a cave of sharp teeth and an insatiable appetite for human souls. An all-knowing entity, infinitely powerful, its power akin to that of gods rocketing the seas and gambling lives. This was what a demon was.

The Thing moved closer and the girl's parents moved with it as though in a trance. That was when she knew.