I THE MONSTER BY MARK ANTONY RAINES

  I the monster in this game of horror saw you my friend when you committed your horible,brutal crime in an innocent man.

I watched you as you let the green eyes monster within take over when you thought the man in front of you was seeing your beloved wife Enid behind his back.

I saw you grab the axe used to chop up the fire wood,you run at the innocent man at speed yielding your axe like a demented madman,each blow chopping and biting at the limbs and body then like the French dying the revolution you chopped off his head .

To his your crime you then placed his chopped up remains underneath the floor.

Then the the nightmare dreams began,the man came back to you pleading why did you kill him,this carried on for months until it unhinged your mind.

You got frenemy drunk and build your own tomb from inside the Well So until you had but one left and buried yourself alive.

I the monster am not the moustache twirling baddie character just doing bad things just because I can,giving no rhythm of reason.

I am just a bit misguided,ordinary,just doing my best.

I remind you of the banality of evil,perhaps something more chilling.

According to my friend Edgar Allan Poe.

But I the monster just a tentacled monstrosity,I am something real or just something of the horrors that exist in all your nightmare s.

I once visited th mind of Cthulhu whom I cast his mind into madness for He thought he was an elder God whom was worshipped and sent sacrifices.

But when he thought he had awoken he is simply the priest a humble minion of an unfathomable creatures such as Elder Gods ,I made him question his need existence so I let poor Lovecraft alone in his padded cell looking at the gleaming whiteness of the four walks,strapped in his straitjacket just staring endlessly into an empty void of space.

I only once cared for One of my victims,but like when an audience care about the protagonist,in other words have a feeling of worthless pity for them.

Pity soon I can turn to make them fear.

The person I was so close to letting out of my grip was a down and out who dreams of a great opportunity to persue and achieve a better life for himself and his family.?

First he lost his job at school,teaching literature for taking out the negative languages used in the novels given to read by the star towards people of a different skin,this was acceptable to the head,so he was told to pack his bags.

He goes to the nearest bar and gets blind drunk,in his drunken rage he hurts his son scaring his wife witless.?

He then internally in his sub conscious is terrified be is becoming his abusive 

father.

By chance he bumps into an old friend who tells him of a job as a caretaker in an hotel during the off season.

He took Thomas a given to time to reconnect with with his wife and son and start working on writing his own piece of literature.

But when he arrives I enter his head and give him vision s of blood flowing from the elevators,a child wearing a plain white mask on a tricycle riding to his room when the the elevators door opens to reveal nothing but a seemly endless empty plutonium night tunnel

This leads to a demeaning into madness and he tries t kill his own son with a fire axe from the  glass emergency services box on the wall,he is unsuccessful due his wife strangling him with the thick fire hose.Poor Stephen king.

I am the monster always being the earworm to do the horrors of your darkest nightmares.