by Ian McHugh
Monsters exist. Their numbers and nature vary from time to time and place to place, but they are always near.
More often than not, they are nearer than we like to think.
Monsters do not appear in the world fully formed. They are not angels, fallen from the sky. Monsters grow, here. They germinate, as if from a seed, and we water and nurture the seed ourselves.
For him, it starts with hair.
The smell of his mother’s hair is all that he remembers of her. That is what he tells himself, anyway.
Monsters are supposed to have mummy issues. Heroes tend to have daddy issues. That is the truth, as told in stories.
Most monsters are socialised and reified by the monsters around them. He does not have that luxury. A fabricated memory of his dead mother is something to cling to, at least. (Continue Reading…)