Romans & histoires You're An Irredeemable Monster

A text message from my scout inside the pack hospital popped up. Target stable. Heart rate normal. Omega Luna currently entering her private quarters. I read every word twice, the letters burning into my mind. I deleted the log instantly. Every piece was moving exactly where I wanted it on the board. They call me a monster. Iris says it. Her father says it in his sleep. But monsters destroy without a map. Monsters tear meat because they are hungry. I do not tear. I build. Brown Reed is the canvas, and I am holding the brush.

But this dark side that managed to take hold of me and cause me to lash out and do something so savagely violent, it was terrifying. “It’s okay my love, it’s over now” Gunner soothed. He rocked me in his arms as I continued to sob and shiver. I can’t get the image out of my mind. I'm a monster, just like he said I was. “I’m a monster” I wailed.

"Let the world burn, Neoma. I don't care. I don't care about the moon. I don't care about the pack. Stay with me." His throat constricted, shutting off his air. He gasped, sucking in a breath that felt like swallowed glass. Tears, hot and humiliating, flooded his face, soaking her collar. "I can't lose you," he whispered, the fight draining out of him, leaving him hollowed out and scraping bottom. "I was a monster before you. I'll be a monster after you. Don't make me be a monster again." Neoma’s arms tightened around him. She was small. Frail. But she held him with the force of a gravity well.

“To be honest, I won't deny that you are indeed handsome but you are a monster to me. And all monsters are meant to be ugly.” “False,” he countered, a small smirk playing on his lips, as if he was enjoying this. “There are handsome monsters.” “So you agree? That you are a monster.” I shoved a fork full of spaghetti into my mouth. "I don't mind being called a monster by you." I slammed my fork on the table and got up, the chair scraping. “Tell me why I am here or I am leaving.” He looked up at me, “Sit Irene Harvey.” “I won't unless you—”

Waited. For perfect moment. For perfect revenge. For perfect destruction. The monster. Fully formed. Fully awake. Fully free. And no one. Absolutely no one. Safe anymore.

“You’re not a monster.” “Aren’t I?” He took a slow step toward her, eyes dark and stormy. “I’ve ended lives for less than a whisper. I’ve lied to protect power. I’ve used people like pawns. And now—someone’s using you. Because they know how far I’d go.” Her hand moved instinctively, resting on his chest. His heart was racing beneath her palm—loud, defiant, alive. “You’re not a monster,” she said again. “You’re human. Messy. Wounded. Scarred. But not broken. And not beyond saving.”

"Do you want me to run away?" He held her arm tightly. "No. Don't." "Then I won't." "Why?" He asked, baffled. "I kill people, Xanthe. I kill them with these hands!" He even showed her his hands in front of her. "Do you understand what kind of person I am? No, I don't even consider myself a human anymore. I'm a monster, Xanthe. Is that okay with you? Would you still treasure me even though I'm a bad person? Would you still care for me, accept me, and understand me after knowing how monstrous I am?"

He chokes out, his voice above a whisper. “Help you?” I say, laughing as if he’s a pathetic creature. “You don’t deserve help, and you surely don’t deserve forgiveness. Do you know your problem? It’s that you can never admit that you are evil or a monster, you lie to the world that you are an angel, but me? I am a monster, I have done evil things, and I have killed. I can always admit to that.”

Logan's P. O. V. Her cries stung me, sang pain in my ears and the fears I never thought I was capable of feeling engulfed me as I strangled her. I strangled her because I saw how her face paled out. I'm a monster. Yes, maybe my father was right after all and even she said it herself once. I'm a hopeless monster without hope of redemption. My demons are far bigger than me and there was no going back anymore. I have reached that point of no retreat.

"You're not a monste-" "Stop, Fay. This isn't some fairy-tale. I am a monster, and I always will be. I don't care what I am. I will never look kindly upon others. Do not deny what I am, do not do me that disservice." He said, his words clear and cold.