They Stare

They stare.

Long, cold nights I have spent wandering these mountains, wishing I could see more.

They stare.

Winter, watching the snow fall, waiting for spring. When it comes, I watch the flowers slowly emerge from the ground. Peace, in a place that is so far from home.

They stare.

The new ones, curious, with their soft skins and their weak minds. They bring with them their machines, their capturing things. They search, and I know soon they will see me, and watch me, so I fear.

They stare.

I fight. I kill and rend the soft ones, tearing them apart, because they watch me. None can watch me. They don't know my pain, what they did to me. Others come. I tear and rip them, but they are replaced by others. These ones hurt. They bring flashing things, shooting ice and fire. They are trying to destroy me. I maim and kill, doing what I know to do to those who see me for what I am. I kill them. They know they cannot hide from my vengeance.

They stare.

Suddenly darkness, as if I was thrust into the deeps of the sky. I remember home. They cannot see me. I calm myself, remembering the moonlit plains.

They stare.

I am being moved, moved into a loud thing. The loud thing scares me. I begin to panic, but then I remember home, and I become calm.

They stare.

The darkness is gone. In its place is cold. I am in a cold place, with walls, and bars. There are people near me. They are not watching me, so I know they cannot hurt me. I wander, exploring the new place. It reeks of soft ones. I turn and look, but there are none watching me. I can feel it. The door opens. Three soft ones, orange, with black for eyes come in. I can feel them, but they do not watch me, so I stay calm. They remove the black from their faces, and reveal eyes. Watching me. I rip and tear and maim, until I am watched no more.

They stare.

I know what I am to them. I am a monster, a beast of evil to the soft ones. They believe I should be kept away from the rest of the world. Hidden. But they don't know me. They can't remember.

They stare.

I want to go back. Back to home, where I could run free. But my vessel of the sky is no more. I cannot go home. I can never go home.

They stare.

The soft ones no longer bother me. They leave me now. I roam my cage, searching for a hidden crack to escape from, but I find none. All is silent, until a loud noise shatters it. There is wailing and screaming, and I hear the soft ones cries. The doors open, letting me out of my cage. I fear a trap, but no one watches, so I am safe.

They stare.

I search for those who imprisoned me, those who could watch me, but refused. Not for my sake, but out of fear. Out of pity. Is this what I am? A beast, to be feared? It matters not. One of the soft ones is watching. I let out my cry of war, ready for death. I rush forwards, feeling the soft one between my fingers and pulling and ripping.

They stare.

If I am to be a monster, let me be a beast of vengeance. Vengeance for what the soft ones did to me. Vengeance for my home. Vengeance for the sky, and for my separation from it. I will uproot their homes, and show them what they did to me. Then I will be at peace. Only then.

They stare.

Yet now…

They fear.