I wrote a short story the other day after stumbling onto a site where artists do nothing but imagine new monsters, and it sparked an idea for a story. This is unedited and what will hopefully be the beginning of a series of posts in which I share writings that are virtually raw for your entertainment or critique. Rather than having them sit on my hard drive collecting dust, I thought I would put them on here regardless of how they turn out, as every word written is a step towards improvement.
Breath of Life
“No, no, no. The eyes are all wrong! How am I ever going to
pass if I can’t get the eyes right?”
Samuel
threw down the charcoal pencil and crumpled his latest sketch in his fist,
tossing it toward the trash bin where it collided with a mound of other
drawings and toppled to the floor. His Monstrous Monstrosities final was in
three days, and he hadn’t even begun assembling it. How could he when each
sketch of the blasted thing kept turning out looking more dim-witted or
downright cuddly than the last? There was no such thing as an adorable monster,
and his entire family’s reputation was riding on this. All Samuel needed was to
fix the eyes; if he could just get the eyes right, he was sure to pass the
class and move on to an apprenticeship, and then nothing would stand between
him and graduation. He would finally be deemed a Dark Creator. Just like his
father. Just like everyone else in his family.
Picking up
the coal, he began again. It didn’t need eyes, he decided. Without them, his
monster would be even more terrifying.
In a
snarling fit, Samuel’s monster came thrashing into the world. The moment he
breathed life into the thing, its large ears began to twitch, and its razor
sharp nails scrambled for purchase on the smooth stone’s surface. Boiling
saliva pooled onto the tabletop from a lipless mouth, the thick liquid smoking
as it burned into the rock. Samuel grinned at the hideous creature before him
and jumped up from his work bench.
“Finally! I
did it!” The creature flinched at his outburst, and, turning its eyeless gaze
on him, dove teeth first for Samuel.
A few cuts
and a minor burn later the monster was fairly well contained. In the morning,
he would turn it over to his professor, Father Victor, for his final
examination.
Father
Victor announced the results publicly in class. With each passing grade, Samuel
grew more and more confident. The creatures on display were monstrous alright,
but his had been a vicious nightmare; surely he would receive top marks.
But Father
Victor moved alphabetically down the list, and then moved past Samuel
altogether, not even sparing him a glance. Samuel’s smug grin dissolved
entirely, replaced by a sickening dread that turned his insides to ice.
Suddenly embarrassed and ashamed, Samuel lowered his gaze and hunched down in
his seat hoping to draw as little attention to his current situation as
possible. Only no one else had noticed how Father Victor had skipped over
Samuel. They were all too relieved, too busy celebrating their own success.
Samuel’s heart dropped into his stomach.
When class
ended, everyone spilled into the hallway like water from a dam in a tumble of
legs and boxes and laughter and snarls, leaving Samuel alone with his monster,
Father Victor, and the urge to vomit.
Samuel
watched Father Victor approach out of the corner of his eye. Not wanting to see
the disappointment on his face or the pity in his eyes, he dropped his head to
the desk with a resounding “thwap.”
“Samuel?”
“I can
never go home,” he mumbled in reply.
“Don’t be
ridicuolous.”
“How am I
being ridiculous?” Samuel sat up. He moved his hands from his lap to the
tabletop, then settled for crossing them in an attempt to hide their shaking.
“I’ve barely scraped through my other classes, and now I’ll never be a Dark
Creator. I mean, I failed, right? That’s why you didn’t say anything. What did
I do wrong? I thought I’d finally gotten things right with that little guy!”
“Samuel,
you have the potential to be a phenomenal creator; your creature proved that
today. It had more life, more spirit than any of the others’—”
“Then tell
me what to do better and I’ll fix it! Give me another chance…”
“You aren’t
hearing me. It doesn’t need to be better or fixed. It’s perfect; it’s just too different.”
Samuel
shook his head, realization dawning on him. “But my family are Dark Creators.”
“Your
point?”
“How am I
supposed to go home and explain this to them? That I’m not like them… What am I
supposed to do now? I’ll never be one of them.”
“Your
family,” Father Victor said firmly, “will understand. The world needs all kinds
of people in order to thrive, and your family will accept you as you are.”
When Samuel arrived home, he snuck
in through the side door, crept up the stairs to his room, and slid the door
closed with little more than a squeak. He flipped the light on and turned
around, dropping his bag to the floor.
“Welcome home.” On the bed sat
Samuel’s mother and father, their hands clasped in their laps, their eyes fixed
on him. Samuel sank to the floor with a groan.
“You know? Of course you know. How stupid
of me to think I’d be the one to tell my own parents how big of a failure I
am.”
“Honey,” his mother cooed. “You
have never been a failure to anyone but yourself, and I know you must be upset
right now, but this is a good thing for you.”
A good thing? Samuel thought she
must be losing her mind if she had convinced herself that this could be
anything other than the terrible mess that it was.
“You don’t have to worry about
everyone’s expectations now. Just let it go and be you.”
“But how do I know who that is
anymore?”
“Do you know what Father Victor
told us today?” Samuel’s father asked, and, not waiting for a response, he
continued. “He said that your creature took his breath away. It was fresh and
exciting; it wasn’t, however, the terrifying monster he expected. In that cage,
beneath the fangs and the claws, beneath all the snarling, was a terrified
creature. It was alone and blind and scared of a world it couldn’t make sense
of, made of fear and confusion. And it got all of that from you.”
He took his wife’s hand in his own,
staring down at their intertwined fingers. When he lifted his gaze back to
Samuel, he gave his son a small smile.
“Monsters are fierce, Samuel. They
thrive on fear. What you made, it might have been monstrous, but it was no
monster; it was merely in need of a caretaker. Father Victor explained that he
had never seen anyone create a friendly species without proper training, as it
takes more skill and focus to impart character on a being than it does mindless
rage.”
Samuel stared at his father. Words
were coming out of his mouth, yes, but he wasn’t entirely convinced those words
made sense. He turned his confusion on his mother, who stood from her spot on
his bed and crossed the distance between them. She lowered herself to her knees
in front of him and smiled.
“What your father is trying to say
is that Father Victor was thoroughly impressed with you, and while you may not
have been approved to pass into a Dark Creator apprenticeship, he is
recommending you be transferred to the Fantastical Creatures Department, where
he’s sure you will be able to finish your studies in time for graduation.”
Stunned,
Samuel sat in silence. His mother’s arm wrapped around his neck, and he was
dimly aware of his own reaching up to hold her. Across the room, his father sat
on the unmade bed with a smug look on his face.
“A Bringer
of Light born out of Darkness,” she whispered in his ear. “I think it suits
you.”
