Just a little idea I decided to submit for the fun of it...while I take a break from the main story. This is actually an edited tidbit that I wrote years ago....I wanted to do an actual whole journal series for Goliathus, filled with his daily thoughts. This is just one of the pages, I think the first. And if it sometimes doesn't make sense or bounces around.....this is because Goliathus has a very troubled mind. Again, I suggest you read my other stories for this to make sense. (He does not date his entries, either. If I submit more entries, I'll go by page number.)
You should read it slowly, as if you are going along with the long pauses in Goliathus' thoughts.
That is all.
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A diary. Interesting. What should I write here?
What the hell does a heradus have to write about?
Eating?
Hmm.....well all right, then. Perhaps that is one thing I can write about.
Where to start?
Yesterday.....hm. Found a pregnant doe. It was rather fascinating, to slice her open, and find another living creature inside. That one was tender. VERY tender.
Well. *huffs* That just made me hungry now. Perfect. I hunger every other hour.
The Hunger. Sometimes part of me, sometimes not. It is a gigantic blend of both physical and metaphysical...I hunger as a human does for their "normal" food, but I also hunger when there seems to be no reason for it.
I do not wish to name what it is.
I never like to think that word.
*growls*
Stupid....foolish. Why write things down? Stupid human games. I have no time for human games. I am bored very often....by the little pathetic whims of humans. I hate them so very much.
Not ALL of them, I suppose.....but almost.
All right, I have to admit to myself. I like women. Sometimes. Mostly.
When they are not annoying me.
Men however. *bares teeth, gripping the pencil tighter* It is not so much a gender issue. It is just that men are far more evil to me. They tortured and scorned me. Laughed as I screamed.
They showed no mercy when I begged.
I became so hateful, that I learned to show no mercy myself. I did everything I could to make THEM scream, like pitiful, whining puppies.
*the pencil snaps in half. After a long moment, he finally reaches for another one on his desk*
There are bad thoughts. Ami would be displeased with me for such dark thoughts.
She understands....she forgives me for them, but why do I still feel guilt?
I do NOT feel guilt. Not about the men who tortured me. I do not regret killing them painfully.
Why should I?!
I will NOT let those feelings go!!!
Ami. Should I erase that paragraph? She would be most displeased.
I long to taste her. I do not want to eat her, the thought actually sickens me. She is not for eating. She is a sweet and giving creature.
I loathe to call her human, but she IS one. I wish sometimes...that she were heradus. Could I love her more then?
Love. Something I have learned recently. I do not know if I want it there, plaguing my heart. I do and I do not. I want to keep hating....hating everything.
But she does not let me.
And I do not want to hate her. Not any more.
She would care about me even when my talons are stained with human blood.
I killed a few times while here.
I was forgiven.....by her. All the others hated me more....some regretted being there......but not Ami.
She loves me.
Why would a human love a heradus? I cannot understand this.
But she understands. In so many ways, she is not like a human. I can see past her form, and see what she really is. Most humans are nothing within.
She is light. A way for my mind to find a path, as without her, I still wander in darkness.....so pitch black that I cannot see anything....I only remain lost.
It frightens me. I fear almost nothing, except for that blackness. Help me, Ami. Why does it talk to me? I do not want to hear its voice. That vile blackness that is always whispering in the back of my mind. It controlled me for so many centuries. This is why I am here. This is why I have accepted your bargain....to remain here in exchange for your help.
Nothing else humans have offered me had ever mattered in the slightest. I saw something different in you, and it boiled to rage at first. I did not want to believe that I could be helped. I wanted to kill you and silence you, but a small part of me did not.
That part of me has grown now.
Peh. Here I am still writing.
I suppose this journal was not such a bad idea after all.
"Therapy", as she called it.
I suppose.
We shall see how my thoughts will manifest on these pages tomorrow. In the meantime, these walls need more art.
I am tired of looking at the void of their monochrome color.
Dragons. Yes, those will do nicely.
She likes dragons.
I remind her of one.
