Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Monster ❯ Monster ( Chapter 1 )

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Monster

From the time James was born on a moonless, unnaturally dark night, everyone called him a monster. His black eyes, ever since he was an infant, always had a soul piercing glare with such a high intensity that not even the most hardened of individuals could look him in the eyes. Always an impatient child, he learned quickly how to walk, and grew irritated if things didn't move as quickly as he did. Not even his mother could move quick enough to give him his meals.

 

Fits of uncontrollable rage plagued his two-story suburban childhood home, as the creepy babe grew into a child, and then into a teenager. The screaming and strange sounds that the neighbors' often reported grew more and more frequent. His mother was often seen crying on the back step, after the horrible pounding sounds had stopped.

 

“That kid is an ogre; he'll kill us all one day.” An elderly man whispered to his middle-aged son; after one traumatizing series of noises next door. His gnarled old hands shook uncontrollably and his normally kind blue eyes were filled with an impassable fear as the black-eyed boy walked calmly down the street, pale fists clenched. The neighbors weren't too surprised to hear all the birds; which had been chipping happily that afternoon, had stopped chirping.

 

James gritted his teeth; the horrible sound of slowly yellowing teeth grinding down, chipping and cracking calmed the storm of his unfathomable anger a minuscule amount. The boy was sick of the daylight, and all the happy things it brought. He stalked the streets looking for the one part of town that remained in constant shadows. He found it in the form of a sullied alleyway, long forgotten in the lives of ordinary people.

 

James inhaled in the dark alleyway, his anger intensifying at the thought of his house, many blocks away. He punched the dingy brick alley wall. As soon as he pulled away, a soft sound of collision could be clearly heard, and a dark stain appeared upon the ground, James didn't flinch as he raised his hand to do the action again.  After a while came a jolt of excruciating pain, James released a breath he was holding, making everything seem to stop. Sucking in a breath, he carefully looked at his hand, covered in a wet red substance, getting sticky where it began to dry. He watched it in a gruesome attraction. Moving carefully, like in a trance, he raised his shredded abused hand to his thin mouth. His pink tongue went past his lips as he lightly licked the fluid like a little kid tasting juice for the first time. As soon as the taste registered, he licked his hand at a new velocity. Rapidly cleaning the dried on blood, he stopped with a slight hint of self-control, and tore a few strips of red fabric off his shirt to wrap his own once more bleeding knuckles. He turned and left the alley to head home. The sweet metallic taste of his own blood completely removed the anger everyone thought was unending; and had replaced it with a new feeling, one that James was beginning to like. As he walked down the street, his thoughts asked if everyone's blood tasted the same way.