Imperfect Heroes: Broken Souls

Prologue

Our world has constantly been filled with legends and myths of great warriors and mighty heroes for thousands of years. Millenia have passed, and our kind has never stopped telling stories of the greats. Stories of super soldiers and geniuses are a quintessential part of our culture.

Why is that? Why are humans so obsessed with telling stories of people powered by inhuman abilities that fight to save our cities? Why are we so obsessed with beings that stop ancient aliens from taking over our world?

The answer is simple. Humans love heroes. They love the people that are seemingly perfect in every way. They have no flaws. They are unstoppable forces of nature that cannot be defeated. Humans have projected their desired traits onto fictional personas and exaggerated their stories. Humans are obsessed with things they cannot possess.

There is a dark secret to their beloved heroes though. Their heroes, their perfect, can-do-no-harm, innocent darlings are not whom they appear to be. They are broken and cruel, heartless and selfish harbingers of total and utter chaos. They are miserable low-lives who have found fame for something rather insignificant.

They are not heroes. They are liars, cheaters, and tricksters. The perfect heroes have placed the whole of mankind's trust under their disgusting thumbs. Humans refuse to see the truth, for they have been blinded by the dirt of abuse from their gods. They continue to turn from the destruction and harm caused by the ones they believe could cause no such harm.

We are fed lies. We have always been fed lies. Perfect heroes do not exist. There is no such thing as a perfect, do-only-good hero. There is a person who does good things, yes, but they make mistakes. They are not perfect. They do not last. We trust in these poor, broken good guys for the sake of not wanting to be the good-doer. We have betrayed their innocent trust because we let them be destroyed by the darkness of our world.

Their innocence has been murdered and their blood is on our hands. Their tears of anguish are muffled by the sounds of their fans. The display of mad obsession over the poor innocent person is disgusting, a waste of human breath, and a waste of humanity's time.

Heroes do not, and cannot exist, because humanity does not allow them to. You might be wondering why I am suddenly contradicting myself.

Short answer: I'm not. Humans created 'super-beings,' not heroes. Heroes are born of disaster, pain, and misery. Heroes are not created on purpose but are accidental products of a choice. Every choice a person makes leads to their rising as an unsung hero or marks the beginning of their descent into villainy. There is no such thing as an intentionally created hero. They do not exist.

Humans are liars, twisted and deceptive creatures with hearts of gold. They are broken yet refuse to be fixed. They adore peace and harmony, yet they strive to watch the world burn. They tried so hard to become something greater than they are and destroyed each other in the process. They destroyed the world because of their greed, murdered their own because of their pride, and created false truths because of their envy. They broke everything given to them because they hated themselves.

Humans are such delicate creatures. They make easy prey for a monster such as myself. So desperate for attention, a broken human is willing to do anything for their six seconds of fame. It's their Achilles's heel. They can't help themselves.

Monsters were created by humans, not heroes. Villains are created by humans, not heroes. Monsters are not just blood-hungry vampires or massive werewolves; they are facilitators of pain and agony. Monsters are the beings that beat you down for no reason, that murder those around you because they like it, that you hear screaming hate at someone you love late at night, that call you ugly despite how much you care for them, that ruin your peace and sanity because they have the power to. Monsters are not just disgusting creatures with blood-stained teeth, they are also a twisted human, drunk with rage and filled with stupidity.

I am one of the monsters. I was born to be one, cursed with darkened blood from the beginning. I was told it was who we are. Our kind was created to destroy humanity, created to cause destruction. I never believed these lies, yet, somehow, I still found myself on the same path as my Elders. I carried a horrible disease and I have lived with the regret of my mistakes for decades.

Surely, your simple mind is curious as to what exactly I'm talking about. This is the issue with humans; you are all so incredibly stupid. It never ceases to astonish me how endlessly stupid humans can be.

Death Crawlers were a species created by humans to do nothing but evil things. We thrived on the misery of those around us and sought to destroy our enemies, the Nocte Mortiferum; the human's good creation, blessed with the powers to save, not destroy. We grew so powerful and so dangerous, the Nocte had no other choice but to run like the cowardly dogs they are. I tried not to be consumed by the darkness, but things happened. Lives are ruined and lost. I tried to be good, but I failed and I allowed myself to be evil. For, when one is born a monster, one can never escape the dark cloud of sin destined to control them. At least, this is all who I think I am.

So, let me ask you something, who do you think I am? I could be any type of monster I've told you about, or I could be lying to you just like your supposed heroes are. I could be telling you the truth, but you wouldn't trust me because of everything I've told you. You're conflicted now, aren't you? You don't want to believe me, but know this: I am right. Heroes are monsters. Humans are horrible creatures that do nothing but take from you. They create monsters that destroy lives. Humans are the root of all evil.

Now, I know you want to know who I am. But I've told you all I'm going to tell you. At least for now, that is. I am a monster, born a Death Crawler, yet strived not to show it. I am not telling you anything else; however, I am willing to tell you my story. That's the only reason you're even reading this right now.

I am not telling you my name. I'm going to make you guess. The reason being? This story is not about just me. This story is about broken people trying to be perfect. This is a story of imperfect heroes, I just happen to be one of them. This story is not about just me. It's about all of us. All of the imperfect, true heroes. Like I said, I'm not telling you my name because it's not about me; I'm not the only hero of this story.