HEART OF A MONSTER

Monsters from every layer of Hell gather around the table. Though each look harmless and beautiful on the outside, their dark and twisted souls shine through their lifeless eyes. Their hearts of stone unbeaten in their chests.

In the dim gloom of the manor’s conference room, each one stood with an unworldly stiffness awaiting to be seated. A door creaked, and the Devil himself joined at the head of the table.

The hair on my skin rose due to the sickening chill of the room. In one movement, one breath, everyone sat in sync. A heartbeat later, I sat down with them.

The devil surveyed the room, but I kept my eyes trained on the polished onyx table before me.

“Welcome, my friends,” the Devil said, “today, we will discuss our plans for war.”

Around the table, the leaders of each layer of Hell sat, a few of their closest followers behind them. The room began to hum with anticipation and hunger.

War.

The thought of war makes me sick to my stomach. The thought of thousands of innocent people slaughtered makes my hands clammy. My head begins to pound, the walls slowly begin to close in on me. There is no reason for such violence, but I forget who gathers around this table. Monsters. Blood-thirsty animals.

I glance sidelong at my father, who sat with impeccable posture at the head of the table. He continues speaking, his dark eyes scanning the room. Like the others, he also sat with an unworldly stiffness.

The devil, my father, forces me to attend these meetings.

One day it will be you who leads Hell, keep quiet, watch, and listen, he tells me, time and time again.

I have no desire to lead. No desire to rule this dark realm full of unspeakable evils. Though, I guess I too am one of those monsters - sired by the devil himself.

His black eyes met mine, darkening as if he can read every thought racing through my mind. He gives me a heartless smile.

I turn to face the golden mirror ahead, hanging delicately in the stiff room. A room sucked of color – the mirror seemed to shine. I took in my reflection.

Was I like them? Beautiful on the outside but heartless beneath? A part of me craves the mischief and the chaos. Yet another part of me wants to experience love and friendship. Trust and companionship.

Would I spread harm and fear like my father beside me, like the monsters seated around this table or is there a chance I could be like my mother? Will the wickedness hiding deep within overpower me, or will I choose light in this world of darkness?

The idea of going to war makes me sick, but why? If those they plan to fight against deserved it, would I enjoy it? Would I fight alongside the monsters?

A light hand graces my shoulder. My mother, an angel living among demons. The meeting room was empty, meeting over, and I did not listen for a single moment. Father will be furious. My mother follows my line of sight. “Come, my love,” she said softly and leads me to the golden mirror. “What is on your mind?” she asks.

I met her eyes in the mirror. “Am I to be like the others?” I ask.

“You decide who you wish to be,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

I met my own eyes. “I don’t want to be a monster,” I said.

“My love,” she said, “just because you are surrounded by monsters does not mean you are one as well. It is the choices you make and the actions you choose that define who you are.”

“You are not a monster, yet you married the Devil. Why?” I ask.

My mother smiles. “There must be a balance. Where your father is wicked, evil, and cold, I am loving, good and warm,” she said.

“What does that make me?” I ask.

She turned to face me and laid a hand to my cheek. “My love, you are the only one who gets to decide that,” she said.

“I want to see the world, experience what it is like to live. I do not wish to live the rest of my existence confined to this manor and the pits of Hell,” I said, no more than a whisper. “I do not want the darkness in my soul to rot the goodness in my heart, if I even have one.”

My mother sighs. “Everything happens for a reason, my love. Trust the Universe and she shall grant you wishes beyond your deepest desires,” she said, “your father awaits your answer.”

My brows furrow. “My answer for what?” I ask.

“If we should go to war with the lands above,” she said.

War.

A time of brutal violence, hunger, and exhaustion. My hands begin to sweat, and I do my best to wipe them on my grey pants.

“I do not wish to go to war. The lands above do not deserve the suffering,” I said, “those people are living in a time of peace. There is no reason we should bring chaos upon them for simply being happy.”

“Your father awaits your answer in his office,” she said.

I nod. That conversation will be dreadful. “Do you think I’m heartless like them?” I ask.

She takes my hand and places it on my chest. “You tell me,” she said, smiling again before walking out of the room, the clicking of her heels on stone fading.

I look again to my reflection in the mirror before meeting my father. My hand still on my chest, but there it was - a heartbeat. Maybe I’m not the monster within.

Megan Lovesky is a writer who resides in the sunshine of Florida. When she’s not writing, we can find her reading or spending time with family. Megan has written many pieces and you can follow her writing journey on her Instagram page @megan.lovesky for any news, updates or writing pieces.