Dracula

Pure being

People say that the devil is a horrid monster.

Isn't the devil supposed to be bad looking, smelly and disgusting? Doesn't every image of him has two horns emerging from his forehead and a red tail swinging from his behind? Eyes, blacker than the darkest night? Claws as sharp as his senses?

No.

When the devil knocks on your door, he is beautiful. Charming. Seducing.

 His monster is inside of him. Lurking in the back of his mind, ready to come out whenever darkness is seducing it. A monster that is ready to kill, ready to do whatever obscene cruelty and violence it takes to survive. Torn between pure darkness and the faint flicker of love and light that has once enriched a short period of his ever lasting life. 

That is the pure being of Dracula.

How is his being able to love, then? How is he able to cradle, to hold, to coo someone when his claws are made to torn, rip and slash? How is he able to love when his heart isn't beating, when it's just sitting there in his chest like a black, cold stone, a constant reminder of all the cruelties that he had to endure? A reminder of all the pain that he has been going through? 

His heart reminds Dracula of a lot of things.

But he has learned to switch his feelings off and replace them with darkness.

This, is his story.