“Valentino Briefs! You have THREE seconds to release Dr. Camden or we’ll open fire. ONE!”……. The silence came.
“Two!”
I breathed in the humid air, my fingers on the rewind button of the recording device, volume as loud as it could be controlled.
“Three!”
Shots sounding like World War III had just begun, the tape recorder vibrating with the sound. It was like a war zone, the firing of the guns echoing off the wall and my own horrified screams somewhere off in the far distance. I clicked off the tape recorder, shaking my head and glaring at the darkness that engulfed me.
“How?” I whispered, balancing my chin on my knuckles. “How did he do it?”
Every magician’s act came into mind and yet none, not ONE could convince me of what I’d seen. Not even close. I was trying NOT to believe, something I rarely found myself doing. It was like some bad sci-fi movie, where every idiot that remained on the face of the earth convinces themselves that the alien invasion was some retarded figment of their imagination, leaving the audience screaming inside at their stupidity. Only it was different to be in their place and WANTING to forget what every part of my body told me had happened.
The sound of feet at my doorway awakened me to reality once more, and I saw the traces of light underneath my door interrupted by the shadows of feet on the other side.
“Laura?” I said shakily, wondering why the familiar occurrence had me so on edge. But the shadow seemed too large, if you could judge by the limited sight I had of it. It gave off…. No, I wont say it. It’d be ridiculous to try and describe a feeling I can’t even understand. It just didn’t feel right. That’s all I can conclude.
I pushed myself off of the wooden chair, switching on the lamp nearest on my desk and walking unsteadily to the door. The feeling of cold metal met my sweaty palm as I gripped the doorknob, the shameful emotion of fear holding me steady as I heard the shuffling of feet along the carpet on the other side, quickly escaping as I pulled open the oak door. A large shadow fled along the far wall, the intruder dashing down the other hallway. My heart beat hard as I chased after it, my feet pounding along the ground.
“Laura!” I cried, praying that it was her. “Laura stop!”
I turned the hallway, breathing hard as I met only with her closed door, no light escaping from underneath. Drawing in breath, I turned the doorknob slowly, hearing the creaking of my feet putting pressure on the floor beneath as I walked into the shadows that met me on the other side. The light left one large streak across her bed, revealing Laura’s “sleeping” form, laying on her side, her hands underneath her head and her knees pulled up to her rising and falling chest.
I sat down on the bed behind her, my hand still shaking slightly as it rested on the comforter. Her lips were parted, quivering in two burgundy, pillow soft heaps as the cold air filtered through them. Her cheeks were ruddy on the sides, and the crust of dried tear tracks clutched to the creases of her eyes.
“I know he’s gone Laura.” I said gently, hearing my voice as if it were someone else’s. “I know he’s……….. not coming back. I know that he’s some place else now. I know I’ll never teach him how to swim or……… see his first football game. I’ll never scold him for his grades or go to parent teacher conferences.”
I didn’t know why I was saying what I said. I still don’t. But I said them and now feel obligated to write it.
“I’ll never……” I sighed, tracing my fingers along the covers over her back. “I’ll never buy him his first car or meet his first date. I know I’ll never hug him on his wedding day, or meet my first grand child. And I know that you know this.”
I lowered my head, wishing she would roll over to see me. To see the marks of age that hadn’t been there a year before. To see that everything I “knew” was slowly killing us both. To see my regret, my guilt, my everything that I could not put into words for her.
“I know that you miss him Laura. I see it in everything you do anymore. When you wash the dishes. When you watch t.v. You cry at night when you don’t think I hear.” I had to catch my own voice as it threatened to crack, glancing around the room as I sucked in air.
“We haven’t spoken in a month. I see you and all I see is him. And when I see him, I see all that………… all the things that I ‘know’ could have happened. I wish I could take back what happened. I know you hate me for it. But I cant.”
I bent down and kissed her hair, smelling the soft scent of lilacs and honey that had so many times even rubbed off on my own skin, reminding me of my sweetest memories with her.
“I know you blame me for it Laura.” I whispered into her auburn hair, seeing the light glint off a few stray gray strands. “I know because I blame myself.”
Caught amongst my own tears surfacing and a loss for words, I quickly stood up, hearing the mattress creak and moan at my movements. I clumsily smoothed the hair away from her face, kissing her temple as I left hastily.
“Don’t hate me forever ok?”
“You SMELL of booze.” Vegeta said testily, gazing down his nose at me. I had to focus my eyes even to glimpse up into his own, the bottom lids feeling weighed down with each movement.
“You reek of it!”
“I had a long night.” I said dejectedly, wondering why I even bothered with an explanation. After what I’d seen, I figured I didn’t need one!
“Apparently!” He snorted, pushing away from the table and pacing on the other side of the room, appalled. “Your stench is positively offensive! Doesn’t that horrid wife of yours supply you with the common tooth brush even?!”
“You leave Laura out of this!” I snarled, feeling the sticky spray of spit hit my lower lip. His mention of my wife was like heating my blood with a gas stove.
“Oh? Hitting a sore spot I see.” He taunted wickedly, apparently in a mood as rotten as my breath.
“And what does precious Laura think of your “LONG NIGHTS” with the bottle? Tell me Camden, is SHE as good of friends with ol’ Jack Daniels as you are?”
Before I’d even realized it I’d swung at him, my fist colliding with the palm of his hand as he effortlessly caught it, as if anticipating such a movement a month before it happened.
“That’s right Tazial! That’s the spirit!” He sneered, catching another fist before it landed. “The violent drunk I see!”
My temper was spurned onward, pummeling his blocking arms like a mad man and screaming wretched obscenities I had all but forgotten since high school.
“You are WEAK!” he cried, laughing in my face as I was nearly reduced to tears in my frustration. “Weakened by your own emotions! Pitiful, cowering FOOL! Drowning like a worm in your bottle each night to escape the monster that you’ve convinced yourself that you are! Idiot!” He threw me to the floor with a half assed push, leaving me sprawled out and gasping for air upon the cold ground.
“You don’t know what a monster is!”
I glared up at him, wishing for the strength to go at it again, despite the fact that I’d done virtually no harm at all.
“Come to this place a hung over fool again and I SWEAR to you it will be the last time you dishonor me so.”
And with that, he turned his back on me, refusing even my kindest pleas and apologies. It was the cold shoulder I’d seen before, and one I was certain to see again. Pulling my lab coat tighter around me, I exited the room, unsure of the rest of the days activities. There was paper work to do, analyzing and facts to study. The trial was coming closer with each day as promised days tend to do.
“Doctor Camden.”
I was awakened by the feminine tone, so commanding that I was immediately shocked out of my empty headed thoughts, finding myself staring at the plainly irritated face of Margaret Maxin, the very same doctor that had escorted me to Vegeta on my first visit to the asylum. Her arms were crossed over her modest chest, her small shoulders squared as she regarded me coolly.
“Tell me Doctor,” she said dryly. “Is it common procedure to ATTACK your patient?”
I merely shook my head, proceeding out of the observation room as quickly as my leather clad feet could carry me.
“Not so fast Camden!” she commanded, stalling my movement with her army officer tone. “What I saw in there was not only against every policy I’ve EVER come in contact with, but most definitely up for disciplinary action. Now you’d better keep your cool and tell me just EXACTLY happened yesterday that has four dependable law officers nearly in hysterics!”
“Hysterics?” I said, finding nothing else convenient to reply.
“Hysterics!” she spat. “Claiming that your patient has the ability to catch bullets with his bare hand, without even flinching. Claiming that he had you up against the ceiling with one arm. Now I come in here to find YOU acting like one of the patients and pounding that guy like he was your worst enemy! I WANT and explanation Camden and I want it NOW!”
I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing at all. Stammering out apologies hardly seemed the dignified thing to do, though dignity was far from my mind at about this moment. Stammering out lies left me with no feeling of release. And so I remained quiet, watching as her angered expression slowly melted into shock.
“Its true isn’t it?” She said, covering her mouth so that only her large, honey brown eyes remained.
“I don’t know what’s true anymore Maxin.” I stuttered out honestly, my eyes on the floor. “I know what I saw but that hardly……” I licked my lips annoyed. “That hardly can explain every rule of physics that was broken yesterday. By all accounts he should be dead. Perhaps me as well, depending on the guard’s aim. All I know is what my eyes tell me. And that is that I heard shots and saw him drop the bullets.”
The doctor chanced a glance at the room, Vegeta’s handsome form sitting stone still on the chair, awaiting the return of the guards to take him to his cell. We stared at him through the mirror like window, both jumping back as his gaze suddenly landed upon us, followed by a devilish smile.
“Let this one go Camden.” She finally said, still staring out of the corner of her eye in Vegeta’s direction. “I’m not one to go on blind intuition alone, but I have a terrible feeling about this.”
Her eyes slid to me, wide and caring, something I’d not seen in a female’s eyes for quite some time.
“You’re getting too close. Getting too personal. Its eating away at you.”
“Over ONE unexplainable occurrence you want me to drop the case that could quite possibly change my entire career?!” I stammered almost angrily.
“Its not just that Tazial.” She said softly, not one to be easily stirred by another’s outrage. She moved in closer to me, peeking at my patient several times through the glass, as if suspicious of his hearing capabilities.
“A nurse last week claimed that he bent a penny twice over with his bare hand, moving it as if it were clay! And…… and another claimed that he took a metal butter knife, only given to patients under the watchful eye of a guard, and smashed it into the back of his hand, shattering it to pieces!”
I felt my body temperature sink as she went on.
“When his hand was examined there was NOTHING to suggest that it’d come in contact with the knife. Not a cut, not a bruise. Nothing but broken pieces of metal like a train had run over it. He’s not normal I tell you.”
Bending even closer, her hot breath on the side of my face, she whispered quietly, until even I had to strain to hear.
“Two days ago I released a nurse on the charge of insanity. She swore upon her dead mother’s grave that she walked into his room to find him levitating in the air, his arms outstretched and his head to the sky, soaring in circles as if he were dancing. And when she cried out, screaming in horror, he’d merely smiled at her, asking her to join.”
She smoothed out her lab coat, wrinkle free as it was, straightening up.
“I’m not one for blind hysterics or superstitions. I believe only what I’ve seen myself and refuse to be swayed by opinions or rumors. But be careful. There’s……..” She seemed to be forming the words in her mind, her attractive eyebrows squinting together.
“There’s talk amongst the patients that he is the devil, Camden.”
“You aren’t lying to me, are you?”
“Why should I lie to you Tazial? For the plea of insanity?” He laughed mockingly. “I wont live long enough to be tried by your human courts. And even if I do, you think your metal bars and security systems would stop me if I wanted freedom? You think even now I lack the power to escape if I even wished it for a second? Please!”
He bent back, crossing his arms over his broad chest and chuckling.
“These walls are like wrapping paper around me. If I wanted, if I had even the slightest desire, I’d be gone.......... and Tazial, you know it.”
I looked at him curiously, searching myself for the words enough to disagree with him. But they weren’t there. And in all my refusal of gullible nature, I was hooked, enthralled and becoming obsessed with his story, with his life. I was addicted to it. Hell, now that I think on it, I was addicted to him. But that is besides the point.
“Shall I continue where I left off Camden?” His husky voice asked, tilting his head to the side. “Just a child at the age of 6, fighting through this life as if it wasn’t my own? Isn’t that where we were?”
I nodded, clicking the recorder button and hearing the tape inside begin to churn.
“Ahh, I remember now.” He said casually, leaning back and lacing his fingers together in his lap. “You had asked me what changed it all. What could possibly have altered the creature that came out of the hellish prison Frieza had placed him in. But I suppose that’s the greatest question of them all. As I wandered through my nihilistic lifestyle, did anything REALLY change for me? I mean, was I ever the same again? Am I different now?
“Hm, but I see that I get ahead of myself. Let me merely continue where I left off. For you see, I doubt anything really DID change for me. Not in the way that could ever have left me as the child I was before entering Frieza’s dungeon. You can’t really go back to where you were before something like that happens. Its like you’re always there. You can go to a prison. You can leave a prison. But for some reason, some unexplainable, unfair reason, the prison never really leaves you. Its there. The containment. The fear. The entrapment. Its horrifying what memories can do to you. Even if you cant remember them.”
He sighed, frustrated.
“Am I making any sense? I swear, I get lost in all these thoughts that you can’t form into words. Its like a fucking vice on my brain when I try to explain them. So lets just get down to facts.”
“Now when you asked if there was anything that changed me, perhaps you weren’t so far off. Every man has his weakness. Every man has his strength. And I believe in one way or another, it takes someone else to show him these. To use them. To understand them. To harness them.
“For me, this person was just another alien. An orphan of his destroyed planet. Now to say that I knew very few others like myself that inhabited Frieza’s galactic sized ship, would be a complete lie. It seemed everyone had a story. Had a loss. Had an ego! But that’s another tale. And this man was no different, I suppose in this sense. But as far as standing out in the crowd, lets just say, Zarbon was one of a kind.
“I remember being called by Frieza into his person corridors, something he rarely did. I recall dreading it terribly, remembering that the last time he’d done it was to inform me personally of my planets “unfortunate” destruction, the culprit being a space crater or some lame excuse. I was surrounded by vast paintings and breath taking works of art, that would have been even more beautiful if they didn’t come with the painful knowledge that their creator was most certainly dead. These murals and sculptures were stolen from doomed planets, pieces of history, pieces of art that no longer had memories. Beautiful in that sorrowful way.
“Kind of like gazing at a Botticelli painting and realizing that there can never be anymore like them. One of a kind in their originality and never to change.
“Frieza sat, hunched over in his hovering chair, his trademark glass of red wine held gracefully in his hand as he swirled it over and over again. I grit my teeth inside my head, hearing the grinding of my jaw as I gazed shamefully at the floor. ‘Don’t look at him.’ I said in my mind. ‘Don’t make eye contact. Don’t think of what he’s done to you. Don’t think at all.’ It was by these rules I endured everything. Don’t think. Don’t think about it. Live and live empty.
‘ “Vegeta, so nice to see you.” He exclaimed kindly, his dull, red eyes upon me. “Tell me little angel, have your ship mates been hospitable enough? Are you enjoying your stay?”
“I knew well enough what he was trying to do. He was trying to arouse my ever present temper. To get me to smart off as was my trademark thing to do when pestered. And yet it always ended the same. I would spit some trite, smart ass remark before I could catch myself, and be beaten for it as a reminder of my place in the way of things. And so for once, and yes, I knew it must have surprised him, I kept quiet.
‘ “Not so feisty today young Prince. Perhaps you have learned your lessons well enough to venture out more often. What do you think?”
“This time his question was sincere and I actually caught my heart leaping around in my chest at the thought of being allowed to leave the hell hole more frequently.
‘ “I would very much like that.” I answered honestly, adding “Lord Frieza” just for good measure. He smiled sweetly, nodding before downing his glass of wine.
‘ “Very well Vegeta. Very well.” He said softly, showing a calmer, more sane side of himself that, up until then, I was certain didn’t exist. “Report to F-12 on the 23rd floor. Ask for the commanding officer Zarbon, as I’m sure he’ll inquire before allowing you entry. I trust his capabilities in assigning you a………… worthy planet, as I’m certain he’ll do after seeing you.”
“Now this was a strange thing for him to say, and against my better judgment I asked him what the meaning was of this.
‘ “Zarbon is very much like me young one.” He said gently, leaning over in his chair and smiling into my face, his smooth skin stretching over his cheek bones. “He can appreciate beauty……… in all of its forms.”
“With those words he sent me on my way, wishing only that I inform a servant of his need for more wine.”
Vegeta smiled thoughtfully, pausing as he did before starting a new chapter in his life as it were.
“So what about Zarbon?” I asked inquisitively, leaning over the cool surface of the countertop, observing how his black eyes slid to me.
“Where do I begin?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around himself. “They say you can never truly know a person. I think the person that invented that saying must have been good friends with Zarbon as well. For being a space pirate, a ruthless and skilled killer, a murderer of children, a rapper of men and women alike, Zarbon was positively the most thoughtful and deep person I can EVER remember knowing. I was nervous going to those quarters of the spaceship, the unfamiliar territory unsettling and Frieza’s words about “beauty” running over and over in my mind.
“For although I remember quite clearly my run ins with molesters on my planet, the vulnerability on a space craft where you are one of the weakest around was maddening. A man could be eaten by this fear. I learned VERY quickly how to avoid running into bad situations and even quicker, how to escape them, something the unfortunate orphans had to learn the hard way. Men on this space ship weren’t exactly the kind with consciences. If anything, they were the hard bred, heartless men that had been cast out from their own societies and placed amongst the others just like them in all ways but appearance. Molestation, rape, murder. On Frieza’s ship, these were hardly sins.
“With foreshadowing dread I glanced at the numbers on the doors, recognizing immediately that I was standing directly in front of my nerve wracking destination. Knocking gently, I was mildly surprised to hear the universal “Who is it?” come from a soft, accented voice from inside. I leaned in towards the door, my heart beating fiercely as if I was in position for a fight or something.
‘ “My name is……. Vegeta, former Prince of the Saiyan race. Lord Frieza sent me.” I said.
“There was a painful pause that only gave me more time to dwell on my uncharacteristic nervousness, before the words “come in” sent my body into near hysterics.
“Clicking open the door, I was taken away by the gorgeous amounts of exotic flowers and vines that decorated the enchanting room, fish tanks full of stunning creatures I could have spent days examining. Splendid works of art arrayed the walls, shimmering with colors I couldn’t even recall seeing before then. Pillars of marble swirled with purple and lime green flowers, the ceiling a masterpiece, the color of an Earth sunset. In all my short years I’d NEVER taken such a rude amount of time simply to LOOK around me. Perhaps it was like seeing my planet again, as I gazed at the wild life that remained now only in my memory. The room was absolutely huge, and despite its appearance, I was again reminded of my fear, knowing that if Frieza allowed such an immense amount of his ship to be decorated and owned in such a fashion, the creature inhabiting it must be of great importance.
“And there I saw him, even amongst the beauty of the room taking my breath away. Two glittering orbs of freshly polished gold gazed at me from between long, dark dark green eyelashes, the flawlessly smooth skin shimmering along the eye area as Earth women’s do when they apply their cosmetics and such. His cheek bones were gorgeously high, his eyebrows perfectly sculpted as if one of the deceased painters of his art had indeed drawn them in. His small, pointed nose gave off the undeniable air of sophistication, his full, dark green lips screaming thoughtfulness as he smiled courteously at me before removing himself from the leisurely couch and standing.
“I beheld all of him, the chiseled features of his chest, the rippling muscles in his arms and legs, and the long, feminine mane of emerald green braded hair, lingering behind him. He came to me suddenly, as if possessed by something he neither knew nor understood, instead just giving into as he swept me swiftly off my feet, gathering me to him in a gesture I was soon to discover was known as an embrace, though at the time I was mildly horrified at the closeness.
‘ “My Valique!” He exclaimed against my throat, pulling back just enough to bestow quick, painless kisses upon my cheeks, scaring me witless. I remained limp in his arms, pressed against his powerful chest and smelling the masculine scent of his hair, beautiful as it was.
‘ “And in my feverish, flurry of dreams,” he whispered, reciting a poem of sorts. “I vanquish my ceaseless enemies. My swords, my spears, along my side, taking them one by one as I stride. My Angel, always follow behind. Whisper promises into my mind. My cherub, my angel, the sweet boy you. My sorrow, my courage, my Valique.”
“I had no idea what he was saying, nor what anything happening meant. For one minute I’d simply been standing there, unsure of life in general. The next I was being held by this unnaturally beautiful creature that I wouldn’t have had the guts enough to touch let alone embrace! He spun me around, calling me over and over Valique, a fictional person I was soon to discover was a legendary Angel of sorts on his planet, being the silent, cherub faced hero of many plays, poems and songs. I suppose, and although this is a horrible analogy, you humans would consider him somewhat of a matchmaker. The little chubby faced Angel that shoots people, morbid as it sounds, with the arrow of love, whisking them mindlessly away to the endless land of love and bunnies, or whatever ridiculous fantasy you people believe in.
“I was as drawn in as I was horrified, feeling his hot skin against mine, holding me tightly against him. Was this what love felt like? It was a strange thing to think. But even on a ship full of pirates and murderers, the word love had its connotation. As real as the fear was to me, I slipped into some sort of trance, laying my head upon his shoulder as we spun in circles, my mind sliding into a calm state I hadn’t experienced for what seemed like centuries. This world I’d entered had meaning. Understanding. Most of all, it had feeling.
“It was in this way that I met Zarbon, my mentor, my commander, my friend, my foe, my father, my brother, my lover. My everything it seemed. In him I found the meaning that had been lost. I found a world that was horrifying and dark and miserable and hateful. A world that was mine. And I began to see beauty again. I saw it in everything as he taught me to do. To see beauty in death as I bestowed it mercilessly upon every living being I sought to destroy. I saw the beauty in the most wretched of men as they challenged me, seeing the morbid beauty in even their blood as it stained my skin.
“But most important Tazial. Zarbon taught me to see the beauty in me. Not simply to appreciate it, not just to harness it, use it to trick and deceive my prey. But to simply see it. To appreciate it. To enhance it with every gesture I made, every amount of clothes I wore, or cosmetic he insisted brought out the shadowing in my eyes. I should see it in everything.
“And so you asked me if anything truly changed me. And now I regret answering you as I did. For amongst other things that he was, Zarbon became my love. There’s no other word for it.”
To my “oh god” reviewer who decided it’d be a good idea to piss me off, I wanna take a little time out for you precious. Now you’ll have to forgive the meds for my unusual temperament, but I’m gonna be nice to you. In fact babe, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.
I am brilliant.
I’m a fucking genius. I’m so fucking amazing I make myself SICK!
But you wanna know something else? Anyone who puts their heart into a story, throws it out on this bullshit website, puts up with shady assholes like YOU, sits back and has to take shit from idiots too afraid (and rightly so) to leave their email addresses, is brilliant. It doesn’t matter if we’re good, bad, horrible, awful, amazing, incredible or just plain suck. We try. And we aren’t afraid, hiding behind fake email addresses and unlogged names. We leave our pen names, our email addresses, and little parts of our spirit in a story for pathetic shit heads like you to tear apart.
You’re a coward. A pitiful, scared little coward. If I wasn’t so busy feeling sorry for you, I might actually be mad.
But I’m not. I pity you, in that you’re so God damn afraid of me that you can’t even sign in (not that I’ll even PRETEND to think you have any stories of your own) or even leave a legit email address. But you’re probably right not to. I wouldn’t want to fuck around with me either.
For those who agree that this story is boring, kiss my ass. I assume you’re all very young, suffering from extreme A.D.D and with the attention span of a 3 year old.
But you kid, I don’t want you reading Monster anymore. You probably wont listen to me, or maybe you will. I don’t care. I want you to know you aren’t worthy of it. If you cant see the reason that I take my time with this, if you cant see the deeper, hidden meanings in this story that I’ve thrown in there, than what would EVER make me think that you’ll understand the depth of Monster?
I’m not going to get personal, because I don’t know you. Or better yet, I don’t want to. But you assume things after three chapters, you don’t grasp the concept of this story so why would you EVER get the meaning behind Monster?
You wont. You’ll never understand it. You’re an absolute moron and WHY I took the time out of my busy schedule to piss on you is a complete mystery. Stop reading my stories. They’re all already written out but they’re not worth the time it takes to post them if only pathetic idiots like you are reading them.
You make me want to vomit you sick little imbred.
Love
Camaro