This here is kinda dark. But I really wanted to try my hand at this. Ok want to point out that child abuse is one of the most horrendous things in the world. There is no excuse for it. My mom says that all people that abuse children should be hung upside down by their toenails.
There is nothing more I can say only this was brought on by listening to Martina McBride's Concrete Angel.
Randall may be slightly OOC but I couldn't help it.
I also have a picture that is under the same title on DA. I am under the name BlackNaginata.
Criticism fine, but please, let's be adults and no flames.
Disclaimer: I don't own Monsters, Inc or any of the characters in the movie. Though I'd like too. For I'd write a better ending for poor Randall.
XXX
For two long years, he had been lost in the human world. He was surprised that he had lived through the vicious beating at the hands of that manic old woman. But he had. He'd healed physically, the deep gashes no longer threatening to fester or even kill him. But even though he had pulled through, he was blind in his right eye. The once clear emerald green eye was scarred and clouded. But he managed. Once he was able to crawl away from the trailer, he had laid low in the swamp.
He spent almost a year there.
He learned fast to stay in the trees or the true reptiles would get him. He almost lost a tail due to those vicious alligators. He survived, his hatred of his past rivals the only thing keeping him sane and wanting to live. But as he began to slowly and timidly chance the long trip to the city, he learned many things along the way. He learned about humans, humans that he had never given a second thought to. The first town that he came across he hesitated. Trauma made him wary of actually entering a human's house, even if it was his only way to get home. As he haunted around the outskirts of the town, he began to pick up bits of conversation from kids. He heard that the monsters in their closets were no longer scaring them, but making them laugh instead.
It didn't take long for him to put two and two together. He wasn't stupid. The machine he had been ordered to build, the one that got him in this mess, had been his own design. The idea was his ex-boss's but the actual design and build was his.
He remembered the power of a single giggle from one little girl.
Laughs were more powerful than screams. Screams that once were collected and used for power were no longer needed. Laughs, which were much stronger, were collected now.
He backed off, hesitating even more. He used to be a Scarer. He had never made anyone laugh. If he ever made it back now, how could he work? He knew he wouldn't be able to make children laugh, and in all honesty, he didn't want to. So, apprehension building, he moved on, assigning through towns and cities, becoming a wander. He ate when he could, slept where he could. He moved slowly, in no real hurry.
Two years passed.
He kept himself out of sight and out of mind. His anger that had boiled inside him for over a year had died, leaving him numb. He didn't forgive them, but he no longer hated them. It was that numbness that kept him from feeling anything.
It was one night that he finally woke up.
He had been wandering a few miles outside of a small town, hanging around in trees that surrounded a small trailer park. He was waiting for the humans to dump their daily trash. That's where he got most of his food, from dumps and trash cans. At one time it stung his pride, but, as a banished monster, he had to get his food from somewhere when he couldn't steal better food.
He yawned as he waited patiently, stretched out in the branches of a tree beside a trailer that seemed to be falling apart. He was well blended in with the thick leaves that were beginning to change color, his long body invisible. The only thing that could be seen of him was one emerald green eye that had dulled when he'd chosen to resign himself to his fate long ago. The other was a cloudy white. Dead.
Blind.
As he waited, the door to the trailer slammed, and a little girl in a torn and dirty pink outfit appeared. His eyes rolled down to watch as the girl winced at the sound and looked around fearfully. Seeing no one, she reached behind her and dragged a black bag of trash from the doorway. It was almost bigger than her and she struggled with it, her thin arms straining to pull it. She somehow managed to drag the bag around to the side of the trailer, leaving it there. Hearing his own belly growling, he turned, still invisible, and easily skulked down the tree, pausing once he reached the base. He was now closer to the girl, but far enough away that she couldn't even see his slited eyes, should she turn around. He waited for her to move so he could dig through the bag. Usually he waited until night, but he was hungry, and his aim was to leave and move on. He needed to gather food.
While he waited, he watched the girl. He noticed something was off about her. She moved stiffly. As his eye zoned in on the girl he noticed dark, almost black, bruises.
"Where are you, you lazy little brat?"
A shrill voice sliced through the air, and he winced as the girl jumped and let out a scared whimper. "O-o-out here mummy!" the girl called back, tripping over her words in her hurry to reply.
There was the sound of things breaking, and then the woman screamed back, "Get your bony ass in here!"
The little girl nodded, though the woman couldn't see her. He watched as she hurried toward the front of the trailer, her little bruised body tight and curled into its self like a beaten dog that, for some reason, still loved its master.
Once the girl was out of sight, he slinked to the bag of trash. Maybe if he hurried…his thoughts were cut short by a cry of pain.
He backed off and went back to the tree. He'd have to wait. As he did, he couldn't help the troubled feeling that had begun to creep into his emotionless body. As he stretched back out to await the night, he tried to block out the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and the muffled cries of pain, though he began to grow more agitated by the minute. Finally it fell quiet as a door slammed. He could still hear the sound of crying and his deadened heart began to ache.
XX
Rain drops woke him. He was still in the tree. He came into focus, becoming visible in the night. Not that anyone could see his purple self in the dark braches of the tree. He looked around and saw that a few nearby trailers still had their lights on. Looking down at the trailer almost below him, he saw that all lights were out but one.
He scrambled out of the tree after checking that the coast was clear. He crept to the black bag and tore a hole in it, beginning to rummage through the rubbish. He stopped when he heard screaming. Words were screamed out, but he tried not to listen to what they were saying. Instead, he crept around to where the lights were on in the trailer. As he moved around to see, the screams got worse. The cries of the girl became unbearable screeches. Looking around, his normally indifferent face showing panic and worry, he wondered if the neighbors would show up or at least call their police. But to his shock and now growing disgust, he saw them shut off their lights, turning a deaf ear to the distressing sounds. Another pained scream, followed by a heavier sound of a thud on flesh, had his head whipping back around and he crept up the dirty tin that covered the outside of the trailer. He looked in the moment a small body was thrown against the wall. The sound of something hard cracking was heard, and it wasn't created by the denting of the wall.
He let out an angry growl before disappearing, blending in with the environment. He moved quickly through the open window and up the ceiling, his appearance smoothly changing as he went. He hit the single light in the room with his tail, and the naked bulb exploded in a shower of sparks as the thin glass burst. He didn't bother to say a word as he took a swipe at the trashy and thin woman that had been moving in on the little girl. Leaving half his body on the ceiling, he quickly made himself visible to her eyes. His face was almost demonic, one green and one white eye narrowed at the woman.
"You like how that feels? How does it feel to be beaten?" He spoke sarcastically, his voice roughened by years of silence.
The woman screamed in fear and tried to scramble away.
"Oh no you don't!" he hissed and blended straight back into his surroundings. Still invisible to the naked eye, he jumped back down onto solid ground and swung himself around in a tight circle, his long whip-like tail smacking into the woman, causing her to lose her footing. Her head hit the corner of an end table and her screams were abruptly cut short. He came back into view and walked over to her with only a slight limp from past injuries. He stood over the woman and scowled down at her, his lips curled in disgust. He watched for a few minutes, and, when he saw she wasn't breathing, turned to the little girl still slumped against the wall. His hardened face softened and he slowly walked over to her. She was no longer crying, but letting out little pained whimpers, as if it hurt to breath.
He kneeled down next to her and gently petted her head. She looked wide eyed at him, and, for a minute, he thought that she was going to try to damage herself further by screaming. But he was surprised when she reached for him, seeking comfort. He gently took her hand in one of his hands and slowly and carefully curled his long body around her. Gently cradling her bruised head, he pulled her closer. Her pained whimpers died down, and she squeezed his hand one last time as she looked up at him without fear, her big brown eyes slowly taking on a glassy appearance. Feeling something sting his eyes, he held the broken child in his arms as tears spilled down on her. In the distance, he heard the sirens, sirens that were too late for the limp girl in his arms.
XXX
He was sitting in a tree that overlooked a huge cemetery. The funeral had been small, showing that she had no other family and how little people cared about the death of one little girl. He was wrapped around the branch to help hold on as silent sobs racked his body. Regret, despair, anger, and hate all swirled into one in his body. And for once in his life it wasn't for himself. The last few days had shaken him to the core, past suppressed memories of his own horrible childhood. He continued to hate himself for not acting sooner, for waiting until it was too late. He watched as the last of the humans left, leaving behind the newly made plot that they had just finished filling in.
He slipped down the tree and wrapped himself around the small tombstone, pressing his scarred cheek against it. Rubbing his face against the smooth cold marble, his tears wetting it, he whispered a promise.
"I'm so sorry I waited too long. So sorry, but no more. I was once a monster that scared children like you just for your screams. But not anymore. No more will I haunt the outskirts of a city or town, ignoring the world. I promise I will not hesitate. I will make it up to you. I will make it up to all the children that I scared."
At that moment, a small wind, one slightly too warm for October, blew. It blew over him, pushing his fronds back. He opened his eyes as something soft brushed his cheek and got caught on the marble headstone. He reached out and picked it up, noticing the name carved into the stone.
Angelique Richards.
It was a simple white feather that had come from a dove.
If someone had asked him in the previous two years if he would want to go back home, he would have answered "yes" without an ounce of hesitation. But now, if asked again, he would answer "no." That he, Randall Boggs, former monster citizen of Monstropolis, had a mission here in the human world: To help fight against the true monsters in their lives.
Randall Boggs, once a monster, became a guardian angel for all the children he met from that day forth.
