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Beautiful Monster

‘Everything was beauty… nothing hurt.’ Or something like that. A quote from some book wrote back in the days of paper. My mother liked it. I can distinctly recall repeating those words as the needle came nearer to the center of my unblinking eye. It wasn’t patriotism or even the money they gave to all the volunteers that brought me; I’m a romantic you could say.


A world without death. It sounded like a great idea. Without death, why fight wars? Why make people suffer? Man had found so many creative ways to elicit pain. It seemed fitting that eventually we’d outgrow our habitual improvements upon destruction, and finally seize upon the means to end all ends.

“I’m sorry…”

Sadly, ending death did not stop the blood lust.


Looking down on the weeping man at my feet, finally casting aside his useless gun which he has emptied into my chest and limbs, I realize now that the experiments haven’t failed as the late doctors’ notes claimed.

“NO! DEAR GOD NO!” he screams out for mercy. It is a concept that I realize humans are perfectly incapable of understanding. Only now in his final moments, does he truly appreciate the wonder of the gift he was given. So, who understand, I am charged to free his spirit.


And discard the poisoned shell.


Because to finally end their monstrous ways, man had to create an unstoppable monster.

But, then again, maybe I’m just being romantic.

Author’s Note: Flash Fiction (250 word limit) Entry into Halloween Themed Contest – here for your enjoyment. Happy Halloween!

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