Hello folks, my name is Stag Beetle (Beetle for short) and welcome to my dirty little secret. This is purely self indulgence, mind you, written only to fufill a cheap trick I've been playing out in my mind lately. Just a warning though, do not get upset over something as petty as fiction; you'll just succeed in making yourself look like a complete lunatic if so.
It should also be noted that it's definitely been a while since I've last written anything close to this, so bear with me and do point out mistakes. ;) You will definitely see some oC's, however I will try my best to blend them in with this universe. I have certain things planned that requires extra characters to move this along (aswell as to fulfill previously mentioned indulgences heh heh), so just a fair warning ahead of time.
Enjoy.
There are many days in a year, and within that year many memorable events. To us, as people, each year is cherished as our life spans are quite short; birthdays, holidays, first kisses, the works, are all engraved into our minds at one point or another and are relived as we see fit. The things that stick with us are quite particular mind you, and are usually comprised of a whole spectrum of experiences ranging from childhood to adulthood. They are love, they are life, but best of all they are unique to each individual being, never to be experienced by anyone else no matter what the situation may be.
However, whether or not it is spoken or kept to ourselves, we have all experienced one thing; a sudden, inexplicable and fiercely intense fright. Something appearing as if out of nowhere and vanishing just as fast as it came, leaving in its wake a white hot memory of barred teeth, glowing eyes, and sharp claws. There is never time, there is never a good enough look, but the impression is there. The impression accompanied by a horrible feeling, and a new memory forever burned deep within one's mind.
It is there, it is there and we have all experienced it whether or not we have ever addressed it within our lifetimes. It is experiences like that that our mind keeps, that have become an endless inspiration for folk lore, spur of the moment camp fire stories, and horror films. They are an injection of adrenaline made up by our perceived overactive imaginations, and are the result of primal fears and shadows dancing within the corners of our eyes. They take hold, we mold them, and they become our seemingly fictitious realities that are passed on by word of mouth, art, and film.
But in order to create something tangible out of an awful experience, we needed to give these experiences solid forms to identify with. To say you fear something without a face is extraordinarily hard to describe, so humans began to equate these anomalies with terrifyingly grotesque figures, and soon these figures became known quite simply as monsters.
That term, that ever endearing, universal word "monster" became their word, became their world. Without them we'd have no stories to tell, we'd have nothing to pin those experiences down upon. Nothing to give a face to the terrors we felt we imagined, nothing to give primal humans something to keep ourselves (and our children) in line back when it was necessary. We would lack luster, we would lack vibrancy in our stories and our imagination, forever sitting on the word fear and having no imagery to accompany it. It wouldn't allow us to portray our experience in any way; wouldn't allow us to tell the tale of a creature we thought we saw to others, and in turn plant that seed of belief into the hearts of the rest of our race. If there was no image and no belief, they simply would not live and that is not an option. There can never be a middle ground, otherwise their race would be in jeopardy and that is something they just simply cannot allow.
As you can see, there is us, there is them, and between us is a quiet, mutual need for one another without ever seeking interaction and perpetually living in state of perceived imaginary existence. To us they are figments, yet to them they know otherwise, and that is how it should be.
They are a part of us as much as we are a part of them, as we are their creators in a twisted sort of way. We are their creators only because the fear in our hearts forever plays in an everlasting loop, ensuring their survival and well being.
Mass knowledge would simply be detrimental.