Anatomy of a monster.

Monsters live on the edge of existence. They belong to the minutes of the night, tread on the fringe of shadows, they breathe the periphery of sleep.

Whilst children are afraid of monsters, monsters are afraid of their own selves. Just like every creature they need to survive as a species, and they are too aware of their flimsy disposition to not be terrified of vanishing at any second. Life as we know it is carbon based. In the monster realm, fear is the main of all the elements from the periodic table. Monsters don’t live, they exist until they evaporate. One slight mistake and they’re gone. There is no forgiving, no second chance; survival relies only on the most extreme caution. They belong to the in-between, the place that cannot be seen or described but which separates and defines. The place woven with the bounds of matter.

Monsters have to be fully conscious at all times to remind themselves they exist. One drift of attention and they’re gone. If they forget they exist, then they don’t. Even for a blink. That’s no death, only instant fading. It is too sudden to be painful but it is still a truly horrifying perspective. Since they cannot let their attention wander, sleep is prohibited to them. That is why they linger in children bedrooms: they are fascinated by their peaceful rest. They crave peace, they dream of loosening. They worship serenity as a blessing almost at reach but too holy and resplendent for their wretched nature. Those who committed the heresy of sleep paid the hard price.

They believe that in the beginning of times it had been theirs, but was taken away from them as they became unworthy creatures and were sentenced to the edge of beingness.

Everyone knows that monsters disappear when you close your eyes. The rule applies to monsters themselves. Thus, right when they are born, their eyelids get amputated by the older member of the group. It is a terrible ordeal but their most powerful safeguard against vanishing. The Removal is as painful to the performer as it is to the puny baby monster; one does not understand what is happening while the other does all too well. He stares into perfect innocence knowing it will soon be gone forever and as the infant’s stupor builds up a life of doom unfolds.

From time to time however, some monsters can experience a kind of respite. They do not hang around children’s beds at dusk only to observe them. When a child catches a glimpse of them, he suddenly believes so strongly that he makes them exist. As they slides through towards the tangible realm they can rest. They don’t have to believe in themselves so much anymore now that the child is there to it for them. The more he believes the more they can relax. Unfortunately, as enticing the prospect can seem it is not without risk. If for any reason the child’s belief declines, any monster who has unstrained too far will immediately vanish. Very few monsters dare taking the risk. It is indeed very perilous but more importantly, their religion condemns it. Since monsters are beings of belief, very rare are the ones keen on going against their religion’s injunctions. The ones who do are called the Drifters after their ability to make the most of childrens stimulus. These are some sort of shamans who preach their own doctrines and seek alternative ways of assuming the monstrous nature. Altogether they are scarce; the majority of monsters loiter in bedrooms but very few dare drifting.

As wise and serene the Drifters strive to be, the mention of Parents will always make the most inured shiver and their teeth grind. Weaker ones will gasp as their inside burn with acrid dread and bile creeps through their flesh. As their bowels will seem to expand to the verge of explosion they will feel about to suffocate from the outer pressure building up.

Parents is the most absolute shape terror can crystallize into. There is a reason why parents never see a monster: their disbelief is so powerful that they make monster vanish instantly as they enter their child’s bedroom. Monsters’ will is so much weaker than a human adult’s.