Love has no essence of ethics or morality, by nature. It's a pellucid liquid which takes the shape and shade of the heart it pervades in. • That celestial liquid is led into a lonesome heart, which is desperately waiting to heal its abandoned wounds by smearing the purest potion called true love. But that liquid evanesces into thin air before healing those wounds leaving the heart even more bruised and battered, which leads to the formation of a vile monster in that hollow forlorn heart. And that heart belongs to... Me. __ • Short story (mystery) - writing contest • Word count - 2495 • Prompt - "sometimes the monsters are...you."