I stood in front of the monster ready to battle. This monster had been terrorizing me and my community. It was time for the monster to die. It had no place in this world.
This monster was always on edge and was always scared that it was making mistakes. The monster had to follow a specific rule set in order to live. The monster would die if the rules were broken. There was no way to tell how the monster would react. The monster always seemed to change to happy then sad in an instant. It had no control of its emotions. Rage always blinded the monster. It seemed that rage was its defining emotion which is why people were scared of the monster. The monster was practically incapable of happiness. At night, the monster would be attacked by demons, which only fueled the monster's desire of havoc. The monster would always find itself reminiscent of previous heroes who tried to kill it. The monster always felt attacked by these feelings that the hero would always win no matter what. The monster could not interpret what we did to attack it. Despite the monster's confusion by our attacks, the monster always fought back despite being unaware of what was going on. The monster was a thief who always hoarded whatever they could get their hands on. It always seemed like there were multiple monsters. Everyone's account of the monster always differed, so no one truly knew what the monster was. Not even the monster. The quietest noises made the monster rage. Whatever the monster heard, it wanted to silence no matter how violent its methods were. The monster always remained in its lair whenever possible. The monster never wanted to leave unless absolutely necessary. Any attempts at communication with others would be met with roars. The monster's vocabulary was always so profane, and the monster always had to complain about every small detail no matter how inconsequential. The monster could not handle reality. Nothing felt real to the monster, almost as if it was in an internal dream. The monster's fur was a mess since the monster pulled its fur during every battle. Even without being attacked by heroes, the monster was in physical pain every day. The monster could never heal itself no matter what it tried.
Clearly, the monster was flawed. The monster did not deserve life, so I decided to permanently silence the monster as a way to make everyone happy.
I stabbed and shot the monster repeatedly with whatever weapon I could find. Even my bare hands were perfect. The monster screamed as I attacked it. I loved hearing its screams. The monster knew that it was unwanted. I smiled as I watched the monster bleed and run out of oxygen.
Finally the monster collapsed and died. I turned the monster over to get a closer look at its facial features. The monster's face was familiar. I then thought about what the monster's voice sounded like as it screamed. Finally, I realized why the monster seemed so familiar. The monster was me.