Gotta love a free-written story.

[Capxeno]

   Each step echoed as a child tried to run away from a monster. Now most people might assume that he’s imagining things. Most people would have his blood on their hands. Every moment the child can feel the seething presence of the monster getting close. This monster is not what you would ever imagine, because you could not, can not understand the finer points of fear. This monster is nothing more then words. For every negative comment, it takes a thousands positive to restore confidence in any child. The sad part is that he is not running away. There is no way to escape the perils that your mind creates. So, the only method of escape is to become a monster. One worse then the rest, one that monster would sweat blood over.

This kind of transformation takes time, a lot of time. As he tries to run from himself. Run from his hate. He becomes that hate. Emotion that once spewed like a volcanic geyser turn to nothing but settled ash. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot regain what he has lost. Impulses that were once none existent become furiously aggressive in their need to be indulged. The one wish that he had can never be fulfilled. Become it is impossible to protect everyone. So what become of this running child? Simple, he dies.
Now don’t go jumping to conclusions. His body remains. But the very monster he tried to run away from has become the very definition of who he is.

Each rip and tear of flesh sent ripples in well of time that reminded this beast of what he once was. Now, he was a liar. For each day, he put on a new mask. One with its own concocted history and past, that in the moment of uttering these foul lies he thought them true. He mastered the art of deceiving himself. Now what would a monster have to be afraid of? Especially one born in such a manner? Simple, a genuine care for someone else’s life. The very essence of a monster is selfish. If that trait died, so would a part of what made him who he is. The monster found everyone possible trick to deceive within deceptions, allusions with illusions, and cowardice within honor. So what happens to the monster? He fails in everything but the destruction of not who he is, but who he might have become.

Now I hope you have been baring with me dear reader, what you just read is all that you need to know about the man in this tale. Joseph Grunion, a young man who is old enough to have salt, but young enough to have pepper. Tonight he faces a choice, an impossible choice. As he sits rotting in the corner of an abandoned subway ticket booth. He hears th voice of someone he once knew. Someone who very coice brought on the emotions that even hate woulnd reltch at experience. This kind of absolute disgust is both rare and common. What is rare is that our dear Joseph has carried this sentiment for most of his life.
The voice he hears is the very person he blames everything on, all of his folly, every mistake. He speaks the man who he knows killed the one person he ever mourned.
He’s words are trembling and afraid.

“Please, I can get you money… Just leave my daughter out of this”

Joseph knows exactly what is going on without even trying to move. The whimpers of a young girl make it clear that the aforementioned daughter. This is the dumping site of a local crime syndicate. Joseph smiles as he thinks of what is about to happen. The first show goes off. The man’s dead body falls backwards into the window of the ticket booth. Joseph looks at the dead mans face… and for the one brief moment of live the man asks one last favor of the person who is the least likely to grant it. The father is sure he is seeing a representation of hs own guilty. Regarless of this doubt be pleases on one last ephemeral breath

“Save her”

Joseph looks into the dying mans eyes just as his last breath is taken and responses with a despondent

“No”

The sheer look of horror that is now frozen on the dead mans face could caused Joseph to burst into victorious laughter. Had not the second shot gone off as a young girl with all he life ahead of her tries to jump through the booth’s window to hold her father as if her tears could heal his wounds. Slumped over of body of her father is a dying girl who’s very complexion is the same as her mother. The woman Joseph had thought dead… when his friend disappeared the same night as her… he had always assumed that he took her and did something awful. Now Joseph confronted with only the slight shard of the truth finds the geyser of emotions that he had once thought was gone. Hopped over the booth’s window and charged. His fury was met with a hail of bullets. Ending the pitiful bum’s life. As he descended into the abyss Count Andromalius chuckled with joy. Spewing out the words:

“You may dear fool are mine because you could not let go. I have an uncommon place in hell reserved just for you.”