Would you be the monster?
Would you be the monster?
It doesn’t matter how, but there may come a day when you realize that you are actively turning into a monster.
Maybe it was that smooth talking European man with the snazzy suit and voluminous hair. There was something about him that you found irresistible even though you’re not into dudes. He lead you into a booth in the back of that much-too-quiet nightclub to “show you his dark secret”. Even though you know this Toadies lyric and also that you yourself have used this actual line on a girl in college once, you followed him and sat with him in the dark. You remember a sharp pain in your neck, and then nothing. Now you’re awake, alone in your own bed with two nice neat little puncture wounds in your neck. The light stings your eyes like mad, and God are you thirsty. So thirsty. You’re so thirsty that you’re horny, and you’re horny enough to drink the hell out of something.
Or maybe it was that wild, slavering furry humanoid wolf-like lunatic that chased you relentlessly through the Scottish moors, pinned you down and raked chunks of flesh out of your back before it was chased away by some hounds. The villagers carted your tattered body back to town; your wounds were so grievous that they bandaged you up merely as a formality while they prepared a plot for you in the local cemetery. But somehow, you recovered in record time; within a week you’d defied the local doctor’s dire estimates. Now you feel great; maybe even a little stronger. So what if the gypsies keep cursing you and telling you to kill yourself, they’re just superstitious. It’s the end of the month now, and it’s nighttime. You can’t ever remember loving the dark this much, and wow is that moon bright! It’s so bright that you feel like you’re getting taller! So bright that the hair on the front of your palms (what?!) is standing on end. Did you always see the world through a layer of red? Were you always so full of hateful rage that you want to eat necks? You can’t remember, but for fuck’s sake are you hungry!
You are this close to perfecting actual physical teleportation! The test results have finally stabilized, and the trial runs all worked perfect at a molecular level. Now for the first real test – living tissue. Getting a government grant could take years, and you just can’t wait that long. You’ll just set up one simple little trial; what could go wrong? Pod A over on this end of the studio and pod B at the other side. You’ll run the sequence, step in, and just math yourself right through the fabric of space-time in a milli-instant. Think of the gift you’re giving to science! The preparations are done now, all systems go! Gingerly, you step into pod A and FWAP! An instant later you step out of pod B, feeling fit as a fiddle. Think of what you’ve accomplished, and all for beloved science! After a few minutes, you realize there may have been some unforeseen variables. The program tells you there was a fly in pod B at the same time the teleportation sequence ran. Oh well, you must’ve absorbed it as nutrients or something, no biggie, people eat hundreds of bugs by accident over their lifetime. But a few days later your skin starts to peel off as your hair, teeth and fingernails fall out. To eat, you now regurgitate acidic vomit onto donuts and slurp up the sugary goo that remains. As you type a follow-up report by holding a pencil with your new nose/proboscis and jabbing it into the keyboard, you debate on whether or not to include this in your findings.
Or maybe you wake up and you’re metamorphosing into a giant beetle for no reason (thanks for that, Kafka).
The point is, you are physically turning into a monster. You haven’t fully turned and you still have your mind. Maybe once you do turn all the way you’ll lose it fully, but who can say? I can’t, but at this point you’re still you, and you’re aware that what “you” are isn’t going to be human for much longer. And regardless of what the varying folklore might say, let’s pretend there is no cure.
So whatcha gonna do about it?
Five years ago I’d know my answer. “I’d kill myself immediately”, Past Bello says with full confidence. “I’d kill myself before I fully changed and before I start killing other people”. Past Bello was so confident, but oh so wrong! What a righteously one-sided lens you used to view the world, young me! Don’t be such a square! Sure, some people
might definitely, definitely will die, but is that any reason to throw away this tremendous opportunity you’re being offered? You’re doin’ it all wrong!
Look at it this way: Life, (or in your case, literally a monster or freak mutation) has given you this wonderful gift, and you’re just going to squander it?? How selfish of you! Just take a look at your arms! Maybe they’re paler now, or hairy or chitinous or covered in someone else’s blood or all of the above, but I sure bet they’re a whole bunch stronger now! You can bench 500lbs, isn’t that pretty sweet? Great, now try jumping as high as you can! Oh, what was that? You just leaped onto a rooftop? You can effortlessly walk on the ceiling? Oh, you can goddamned fly now? And you want to give this up?? Don’t be such a selfish asshole!
“But the innocent people.” Past Bello reminds me.
Fucking what? The who?? Past Bello, I suddenly feel the urge to rip your throat out of your neck and eat it. In another day, you won’t even be a person, did you ever think of that? You’ll be more than a person, better than a person, better than any person’s ever been before. There are people out there who would kill for this opportunity, and now you’ve got it! By not killing for it, you’re going to dishonor all those people’s dreams! Can you live with that? (this question holds a lot more weight now, seeing as how you may or may not be immortal).
And how do you know they’re all innocent anyway? What’s innocent, can you even define ‘innocent’ for me? Oh, now that you’re half-monster you’re suddenly a perfect arbiter of humanity? I’ve been alive for 30+ years now, and I know plenty of dicks. Tell you what, if you only want to kill ‘bad’ people, go clean up Wall Street. Eat some evil politicians or smoke some big tobacco executives. Liquify an oil barren, how’s that for irony. Go slay the West Baptist Church, haha. Just because you’re a monster now that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have any fun! Don’t lose your sense of humor, Sir Fangs-a-Lot! Look on the bright side of things unless of course you are a vampire, in which case stay away from the bright side of things always.
“But killing all those people…won’t I go to Hell?”
25 year old Bello, you are a pussy. First of all, how do you even know there is a Hell? What, you’re going to tell me that the exact moment that the other werewolf was ripping chunks out of your back, God paused time, came down from Heaven and showed you a contract? Well now you’re doubly screwed, because your only real other option is to commit suicide, and deities usually frown on that too. Even if you lock yourself up in a room until you eventually die from starvation, are you sure you could even get in anyway? Is there a Heaven for mutants? Your DNA got fused with a housefly’s; what religion covers that in their literature? You’re not even technically a human anymore; can you even commit murder? If a shark bites my leg off and I die, the shark didn’t murder me. It’s not going to shark Hell. The fucker ate me, because that’s what sharks do, they eat things. And now that’s what YOU do! Think of the freedom!
Just because you’re turning into an unnatural killing machine you’re not suddenly owed a religious epiphany anymore than the rest of us are. Maybe there IS no God and you’re just like the rest of us, except now you can fly or puke acid or you’ve got a bitchin’ set of claws. Why don’t you use ’em while you still can??? Go feast on all the stars of the food network just for the joke of it. Go fillet Bobby Flay!
All I’m asking is that you be true to yourself, is that so bad? Don’t deny your true nature, and I’m not talking about the old, weak, crappy, human version of you. Maybe a month ago you were good at tax tables or table tennis. Maybe you could play the flute somethin’ fierce. Maybe you enjoyed writing or art. No one begrudged you for pursuing your passions then, did they?
So what that your talents now include being able to rip all the limbs from a human torso in under 30 seconds, or liquifying a man’s flesh and drinking it in order to harvest the energy necessary to lay several hundred eggs? Why should you make yourself feel guilty for binge-drinking an entire family? Your victims should feel honored that they got to witness you, a true living legend, in action! Go do humanity some favors and show them the possibilities!
You’re looking at this all wrong! You’re super fast and super strong; for all we know you could even be immortal! If you feel too lonely, you could even make yourself a partner! Don’t get mopey or depressed, you sad bear. Maybe go gnaw on a circus clown, that’ll perk you right up!
Calling all wolfmen, vampires, mad scientists and supernatural monsters with supernatural, communicable diseases! (No zombies please – I can shamble, moan and overeat just fine already). I think I’m ready to receive the wonderful gifts that you have to offer. I respect your tremendous power and I’m ready to use it truthfully, artistically even. Won’t you give me the chance?
I think I’m ready to be the monster.