Breakdown of Reality

               It had been a long time since it felt anything but fury. Twisting at its core, churning at its emotions, and altering everything it saw and felt into hate. It stalked the forests and the streets, dragging its claws against any surfaces, leaving smoking trails of pain and anger. It destroyed everything that it came into contact with, animate, inanimate, human, inhuman, it didn’t matter, if something crossed its path it was destroyed.

               It didn’t always know hatred like this. It wasn’t always possessed by the fury. It had known love, it had known peace. Then it was torn away, ripped away, and transported to this other land of greens and blues, cold and hot, dry and wet, these things that it couldn’t comprehend. It was presented with alien creatures walking on two legs, wearing fabric, talking on devices, riding on giant hunks of metal, and it couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t cope with. Things that couldn’t comprehend it. Things that couldn’t deal with it. Things that tried to hurt it.

               It started a small kernel, the hate. Running through the dark, shielding itself from the light, protecting itself when presented with danger. It began to possess hate, but it was not hate. The days grew long and the nights grew short and still it ran, still it was in this foreign place. Still it didn’t know where it was. Still it didn’t know how to return.

               Slowly the hate expanded. Every time it saw red, the seed took root and grew. The burning passion began to take over. It started killing more. Then it grew to feed on the hate, gain strength from it. The fury pushed away the fear, the fury pushed away the sorrow, the fury pushed away the regret, and it had long since forgotten happiness, joy, and hope in this foreign space.

               Soon it started killing when it didn’t need to. The deaths were no longer to protect itself. The deaths were to feed the flame. Small creatures, these humans, large creatures, trees, flowers, tents, houses, windows, walls, it all just became fuel for its destruction.

               It came to recognize the sound of terror, the smell of fear, the feeling of desperation. It gained thrills from inspiring those and gained strength in ending them abruptly. It created games, learned manipulation, and became the nightmare that it was never supposed to be.

               It was hate, it was fury, and it would never hurt again.