My Muse Was A Monster Novels & Stories

“No! It was your choice to be a monster! You were too insecure of my mom! She never cared about you. She never competed against you! You’re the only one making things worst!” “YES! SHE NEVER CARED ABOUT ME AND THAT PISSES ME OFF! She never cared about me because she thinks that someone mighty like her shouldn’t be wasting time with someone like me! She turned me into a monster!” “Fine, you are a monster. Blame my mom or anyone but you are still a monster! And I am destined to end a monster like you!” Madison’s sharp claws appeared as she strikes Mallory. She scratches Mallory’s face and it left three huge scratch marks. “The scratch from a werewolf’s claws... the only thing that immortal pow

She felt a familiar yet unusual tug in her stomach, like a hooked line was pulling her organs forward. Closing her eyes, she felt her body warm up. Her muscles expended a torrent of energy as the monster scuttled towards them. A harsh howling rended the air as she opened her eyes and saw the monster fly up, hit the brick wall of the opposite building and slide to the floor. In a matter of seconds the great beast had dissolved, leaving only a puddle of black poison in its wake.

"Ugh, disgusting fools! You and your daughter have held me back long enough! Do you know how hard it is for me to find a muse? I—" "Muse, my foot!" Mom suddenly started lashing out. "Henry, you're just a loser who got lucky. You have zero creative talent, and you're weak, spineless, and irresponsible. I don't believe for even a second that someone like you could paint anything that matters in the slightest. Trash like you have no right to be talking about muses!" "...What?" Dad was dumbfounded. After all, for as long as he could remember, Mom had always admired him. She had never voiced her true thoughts like this before.

I made a plan that night to end her. The next night my parents had a big important party with some of my father’s clients from work. I knew that Rose would be over. When she arrived my mother kissed my forehead and left with my father. The sun hadn’t set yet so I asked Rose to go for a walk with me. She agreed and we took off into the woods behind my house. I got ahead of her and then made her think she had lost me. While she frantically looked for me I snuck behind her. I found a large piece of wood and crept up behind her. She heard the brush below my feet break as I approached her and quickly turned around. I then unleashed the Monster inside me. It was brutal and very sloppy. I honestly

Get her to sign the deeds and let the Laurent girl walk. I was helpless. For the first time in my life, the "Monster" had no teeth. Unless I burned it all down right now. But there’s only one way out of this

Yet now, faced with the cruel truth, the pain was unbearable. After saying that, Mom grabbed me by the collar. Her expression twisted with malice as she snarled, "Hand over the money, or don't bother calling me 'Mom'!" I wiped my tears and let out a cold laugh. "Fine." That single word made her freeze. When she came to her senses, a dark, vicious gleam flickered in her eyes. The next second, there was a deafening crack against my skull. Darkness swallowed my vision whole. When I woke up again, I couldn't see a thing.

“Oh, my daughter had a small crescent moon birthmark on her left thigh. I used to tell her the goddess kissed her there…” The words lance straight into me. A violent spasm seizes me. I lunge over the toilet, vomiting, my body shuddering. My heart splinters in my chest, beating like war drums. Badoom. Badoom. Badoom. My tongue unbinds. A scream rips out of me, raw, jagged. The word tears my throat open as I see Agnes’ face blur before my eyes: “Mum!” My body collapses, limp, the floor rushing up. Darkness swallows me whole. The last thing I see is Iris Herewit herself, stepping forward, smiling down at me.

Jasmine "We all are monsters," Rei replied. "It’s how we live another day and how we can live with ourselves when we finally sleep. You’re not unaccustomed to monsters. You’ve lived with one for most of your life.” Reinaldo laid his arm on the top of the booth behind me. “I’ve been thinking about last night.” Warmth filled my cheeks as I released the stem of my glass. “Me too.” “Now that we’ve been formally introduced, I’d like to get to know you better.”

And it is all slightly, terrifyingly wrong. Because it isn’t his. The Muse feeds on his output, growing stronger, more substantial. It’s no longer a wisp; it’s a shimmering, opalescent presence that fills the workshop with the scent of ozone and old roses. And the art it inspires… it’s a reflection of my soul. My deepest fears. My unspoken sorrows. The bird’s song is the sound of my loneliness after the Graft was severed. The sculpture holds the shape of my secret resentment towards our peaceful, boring life. He is channeling my pain, and the Muse is feasting on it.