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Theo Pryce · (09-25-2017)

Darkened hallways morph into a man like creature admiring its own deformation in a shattered window pane. Fingers twitching around missing bone. The nubby healed over skin is all that can be seen. That, and pieces of what may have been a tongue.

Loud carnivorous roar. In its hands, a written note.

I am writing this because I have to.

Young is not a period in ones life to be exposed. Boys play cards or admire monsters. Far too young to grasp becoming one. Becoming this.

My mother used to read stories to me. To scare me. I think. Make me want to be good. In our club at school there were four. I was the quiet one. One day out behind the portable classrooms we found a rattlesnake. It was so fast. The other three in our club thought poking it with a stick proved fun. Words my mother told in a story popped into my skull. I shouted out to stop, that danger like this never ended well for characters in the stories. They laughed at me. One of them got the snake to wrap around the stick. I was watching. While I could.

All I heard were rattles. Fangs, and the poison seeping into my jaw. No screams. Just a cornered snake and the children who threw it at me for asking questions. An ambulance came.

I wake up to that memory so often. How I became a freak. This.

My jaw was reduced to bone fragments. Poison had ruined the muscles around it. Removing it saved my life. And took my life. What it would have been.

Now.

I have to write.

I can't sing.

I can't say thank you loudly to accept an award, or whisper sweet nothings in my lovers ear. I can only make sounds. Nightmarish, awful sounds. An animal.

Asesino El Saddai. That is my name.

I can't speak it.

I live it.

I LIVE IT!!!!!!!!!

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