For the period of my wasted bitterless nightmare of a life I could never recall feeling the stone cold fear that gripped me tight. A fist clenched and tightened around my insides twisting and churning. A sickening reminder of what a wasteless piece of shit I was.

The feeling was foreign. I'd come to believe that with losing my soul I'd lose all emotions, that little voice. A conscious. But these glorifying-train wreck-of-a-six-months proved me wrong. The scarring of emotional whiplash evident. And that was just it, emotional whiplash. I'd been on some fucked up ride of highs and lows, a ride a human endures. A ride only a person with a soul knows.

What had she done to me? There was no questioning who was the cause for the twist in my gut. I'd somehow managed to become a passenger in her tiresome humane ride which evidently had rubbed off on me. That had to be it, there was no other possibility. My past was crystal clear, I was a soulless monster.

My insides rolled and lurched in protest, my unnecessary pants echoed heavily in my ears like a monotone drum. A fiery feeling burn through my chest, I'd imagine something similar to a stroke. I cursed once again the distance I was not closing not nearly quick enough. What was the purpose of such strengths and agility when the distance only grew longer, further stretched like an anxious rabbit to a dangling carrot?

A desperation fuelled my lifeless form as my legs tore me through the bright city lights, the chill and slice of the rain against my skin a distant memory. It passed in a slow blur, not nearly quick enough. Tortured by my lack of speed and the measurement of time. I was close, so close. Yet I never felt so far, so miniscule, so pointless.

This was it. The street she'd been taken, grabbed in the eerie still of the night and denied of all that she deserved. The loss of her family, her friends, her future plans and dreams. Her freedom. She lost the security and warmth that she once knew, that embraced her nightly, something she never knew she'd crave for with such longing for the warmth she'd taken for granted. For the warmth she deserved. This was the place where she was thrown into a nightmare, the epitome of nightmares.

Thrown into my clutches.

How she must have been terrified. The possibilities of what human kind can do when sick and twisted running through her head. Only to be realise she wasn't so lucky, that she well and truly had been thrown into the clutches of monsters.

An emotion he had come to distinguish as terrorised guilt absorbed him. For all of his mistakes, things he would have changed, for all the beasts - including his own black heart - he'd destroy and remove. He'd hand her the moon and all the stars. She deserved the world and he deserved death. The oxymoron to all romantic tragedies.

That was his purpose, was why his legs glided with the speed of folklore yet the distance only seemed greater. His gut churned and burned with emotions that scorched his insides, latching on deep and contaminating - if possible - greater. He was a beast seeking the safety and warmth she deserved.

Something was wrong, he felt it deep inside in a place he did not know existed. His idiocy had left her abandoned and in greater danger. I had turned my back on her, scorning her in hopes she'd flee and find safety. I had done what my black heart thought was right, good.

Yet my body ached, ached like an arthritic leg would before a storm.

There were greater monsters out there in the world and I'd left her out there like the vulnerable Bambi she was. My black heart was clueless, a failure at doing right. So here I was to physically see her back in that warmth and security before I took my final breaths and handed myself over. She deserved the world and he deserved death.

I needed to see her with my own two eyes safe and nurtured to quell the ache deep in my bones. It was a different ache to the sickening taste of guilt and self-loathing, the blood that coated his hands and the ghosts that haunted were forever present. It was fierce protectiveness of a beast that was new, something that come to life with a simple look, a taunting touch, an enticing smell and the erotic taste. So quickly six months ago I became possessed and unbridled, yet tamed just by one glance. It was frightening, it was dangerous, it was foreign. It was like taking your first breath, your first taste, your first leap. A multitude of enriching firsts that left me gasping to hold and terrified to let go.

Yet letting go was the plan. I did not know much but I knew she needed peace, I could not do that. I did not deserve that. I was a beast that could never give her what she needed. She needed a future, love. I'd die for her and in fact that's what I planned, to free her of her past.

She needed to be safe, I would make it so. It seemed like my last breath relied upon it. A terrorized frenzy gripped me tight, crazed and desperate. I tore through the night following the path to where we'd both find peace.

I turned the dark street, a family street. The street was quiet, still. Houses were dark and other still alight on this cold Sunday night. The rain was dreary and cold yet the street held warmth, homes. My feet moved with slow trepidation, afraid that my presence alone could freeze all warmth. Unnerved I held my breath with anxious desperation and yet reluctance. If all was well - and it would be - that'd be it, the last moment to bask in her presences, to feel alive and even worthy. What a final memory, a blessing.

The house was quaint, a little smaller than the others. I knew this was home, full of memories. The feel of the house alone, it was different. Like it had been drained to exhaustion, neglected and distracted. It felt empty and detached, something crucial missing a loss of all hope.

The gate still part open led to a house that even when sunny and cheery would still look sombre. Neglected and in need of some housekeep, the path led to a door that would confirm what he already knew. Deep down in his bones where they ached.

He rose his hand and knocked, a light thrum of trepidation, agony. Inside he heard the low murmurs, the detachment. No laughter, no Sunday night movie or game. He heard the soft footfalls and he couldn't help but wonder if the footfalls were still done with desperation and hope every time someone knocked, after all this time.

The door slithered opened, a pair of deep and lined eyes met his. Her eyes. It hit him like the weight of the world. The woman stood taller, yet with age and agony they hunched over her like the afghan thrown over her body. Those weary sunken eyes met mine, a desperate plea in those eyes begging for answers, for me to be the hope and answers to her prayers. He'd never heard a louder plea.

She stayed silent.

"Is she here?" I choked, my throat coarse and hoarse.

Her eyes flashed with an emotion that knocked me off my feet; sympathy. This distraught woman felt sorry for me when she'd lost her daughter. Me, the creature that played a part. He deserved none of it. She got that from her mother though obviously, a beautiful heart who could forgive all. Such perfection needed to flourish.

The woman's hand grabbed mind, warm and aged, stark compared to mine. Her soft and pained face reached out to me like an embrace, her hand squeezed mine recognising the agony that had taken hold of me. I could feel my body blistering and shattering in a way I'd never known, my knees threatening to buckle beneath. Nothing could keep me together, heart or none I was destroyed. Fuck, I was destroyed six months ago when I was graced with something so pure when all I did was turn anything I touched into ash.

"No," she croaked.

The world tilted as the beast roared.

Because, she deserved the world and he deserved death.

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I know, I know. I'm a monster, a beast. Sounds a little familar? So, I had a block writing what I already have up here so I thought lets put one of the many ideas in my head up instead. So here's 'Little One', connected to my Unbelievable stories and there's going to be some people you'll recognise if you've read my other work!

Hang in tight, I'm pushing myself to write. I've moved houses (again), broke my laptop (again), over six months and still no internet. So what better time to write? Oh, and I have a new job just after graduating. Life is good, life is chaos, life is grand.

Let me know what you think, I'm nervous. This is almost like starting all over again, so please be my awesome cheerleaders and cheer me on! ;)

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