paper slayers

The child grew up with stories of ferocious dragons, black, red and gold ones, breathing fires out of their jaws, flying and swooping through the clouds, all scales and majesty and power. But in truth, dragons came in different shapes and sizes too. Not all were formidable. Some were friendly, some were small, some were a little different than others.

When the child was old enough, the child decided that they would like to see a real dragon. They set out to do so and finally came upon a clearing in the forest where a docile dragon was resting. Immediately, the child was not convinced about the dragon-ness of the dragon. After all, it had polkadots on its body! How could one be a fearsome dragon if one had polkadots on one’s body?

And then suddenly, the dragon purred and rolled on its belly happily. And so, it was not important that a dragon should be terrifying any longer to the child. They immediately jumped on to their new friend and together, they played all day long. They played and ran and had adventures every day until the sun was low and they were spent entirely.

At night, tucked in warmly in their bed, the child made a decision that a friendly dragon was much, much better than a scary one after all.

It started slightly over twenty-four hours ago, and within that short time frame, the world had descended to the absolute pits. There would be time to ask questions later. Puzzling and important ones, like: “What had happened?”, or “Can we fix this?”, or even, “Who the hell fucked it all up?!”

But not now. Not right now. Right now, the strange and deformed creatures that were once human beings were advancing on her from all sides. They weren’t intelligent but they were many. Something had turned them into monsters, more beast than man, they seemed to function as a mob, a hive mentality. She measured the distance between herself and the exit, and drew a deep breath.

Before they coalesced into action, there was still time. Once they engaged, it would be too late. But she… she wasn’t afraid.

She gripped the bent pipe she had found a few hours earlier, and her eyes were clear and alert.

She would make it. Home.

It started slightly over twenty-four hours ago, and within that short time frame, the world had descended to the absolute pits. There would be time to ask questions later. Puzzling and important ones, like: “What had happened?”, or “Can we fix this?”, or even, “Who the hell fucked it all up?!”

But not now. Not right now. Right now, the strange and deformed creatures that were once human beings were advancing on her from all sides. They weren’t intelligent but they were many. Something had turned them into monsters, more beast than man, they seemed to function as a mob, a hive mentality. She measured the distance between herself and the exit, and drew a deep breath.

Before they coalesced into action, there was still time. Once they engaged, it would be too late. But she… she wasn’t afraid.

She gripped the bent pipe she had found a few hours earlier, and her eyes were clear and alert.

She would make it.

She would make it home.

He had been watching her since she was very young, though it was when she turned sixteen that he started to feel how much suffering she had done onto him. Little by little, a kind of aggravation built up inside of him and he was not even sure why or how she had gotten so much under his skin.

He considered many things, mulling over her aspects with great vexation, circling around and around in his chaotic head, and every time his thoughts made a round, he had gained in his displeasure of her.

“Her voice is very unpleasant.”

“Even if I could get used to it, listening to the way she talks is painful… like putting my face against hot asphalt.”

“She laughs like a dying sheep. I can’t stand it.”

“Must she chew like that? It’s disgusting.”

As the years changed, he started to fret at the sight of her more and more. And things got worse when she had started to form her own opinions about the world. At her sixteenth birthday, she declared on her social media page that she wanted to use Ms. instead of the Miss she had been using before. It bothered him. He didn’t like it.

“Who the hell would care! Why would anyone make a post like this!”

She started to say things. She had a voice. She was outspoken and she wasn’t shy with her opinions.

He stewed. An image started to form in his mind. Ropes and bindings and a fitting end to a writhing agony. It took a hold in his dreams, deep and dark, he imagined her bound and tamed. It was strangely exciting. The thoughts kept him elated that he revisited them many times.

Though he had been following her for years, she seemed to have no notice of him. In this arrangement, he found a little secret safety. He watched and seethed in silence, and shadowed her faithfully. By day, she fueled him with frustration, with all consuming rage, and by night, she was in his fantasies, winged with dark wings, sending him to whirlwinds of emotions.

She was constantly in his mind. A choke hold he could not escape.