Playtime With the Monster, Part 2[]

The bell rings, signaling the start of the midday break.
The moment it sounds, classmates swarm the boy's desk by the window.
The tallest among them takes a step forward, peering at the boy's drooping face. The tall boy is known for being bossy and tyrannical, essentially ruling over the grade⁠ as their king.
He has brought several other students to the boy, causing him to tense in his seat.

"I heard about you," says the king.
A grin oozes across his face as he begins.
"You're good at games, right?"
"Uh, what?"
The boy looks up, surprised.

"That's what she told me," says the king, waving to the girl sitting on the other side of the room. "Isn't that right?"
Sure is, the smiling girl chimes in.

She and the boy had hit it off the moment they discovered their shared hobby.
Every day since, they visited the boy's house after school to play the game.
And unbeknownst to him, she has begun spreading word of his skill to the rest of the students.

His classmates marvel as he tells them how to clear dungeons.
It is the boy's first time having anyone actually listen to him. And though it's embarrassing, it's not nearly as bad as he long feared it might be.
From that day forward, the boy's life changes.

School transforms from a march of drudgery to something he actually enjoys.
The summer heat that enveloped the boy and girl when they first met fades into autumn, and eventually the calendar on the classroom wall flips to an illustration of a snowman.

This morning begins as they all do. The homeroom teacher calls out names as he takes attendance.
As the boy rubs his hands together against the cold, his eyes drift to the girl's seat on the opposite side of the room⁠. The girl's empty seat. Her grades are impeccable. Her absences few. He cannot remember the last time she didn't attend class.
Guess we won't be playing today, the boy thinks to himself.
A voice comes as the boy's gaze drops in sadness.

It belongs to another girl who sits next to him.
"Did you hear the news? She was arrested for shoplifting."
"Shoplifting?"
The boy blurts out the word in spite of himself. The girl is so cheerful. So kind. So capable. Everyone likes her. The idea she might engage in a criminal activity boggles his mind.

"Yeah, apparently they caught her stealing bread or something? And when they questioned her, they found out all the games she owns were ALSO stolen!"
The boy falls into dumbfounded shock. He honestly cannot believe what he is hearing.

He then thinks of how she acts whenever they play together.
How quiet she is when she controls the ferocious monster. How silent she sits as she slaughters foes without mercy.

The boy returns home and flicks on his console; it has been a long time since he played by himself. With his father at work and his mother in the hospital, the girl was his lone balm against the pain of loneliness.
But she is not here today. There is only him, the game, and the screen.
As the game flickers to life, he chooses the hero Levania for himself.

He then begins to play, losing himself in the action until well after sunset. Suddenly, the doorbell rings.
The boy looks out the peephole and sees the girl.
She seems paler than usual, but still smiles at him through the glass.

Wordlessly the boy invites her in and they begin to play.
Hero and monster⁠ mow down foes together.
But the silence between the players is awkward. Finally, the boy sharply inhales and turns to his friend.

"Is it true? What I heard about you, I mean?"
The rumors at school. Stolen bread. Stolen games.
Was it true. Could it be? His question is hesitant, as is the reply.

"...Yeah. It's true."
With a faint voice, the girl admits her guilt.
"My mom... She won't buy me anything."
A new battle begins on the screen. The girl's thumbs fly across the controller.

Crunch crunch crunch. She slaughters foes with perfect precision. Chunks of flesh cruelly ripped away dye the screen red.
The crimson screen illuminates her face, showing a faint smile as she enacts her massacre.
And between gaps in her sleeves, the boy catches glimpses of skin covered in bruises.

He always thought it strange⁠ that she wore long-sleeved shirts at all times. Even in the hot summer. Even in gym class.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew she was hiding something, but a terrible feeling in his gut convinced him not to think about it. So he always looked away from the occasional glimpses of skin beneath her hems.
But now, he must face it. She wears long sleeves to hide her bruises. Bruises that have been given to her by...

The girl smiles every time the monster's claws and fangs rend her enemies.
A moment later, the game informs them they've completed their mission.
She stares at the screen, making a small, satisfied sigh.
"Isn't Mr. Monster great?"
Her voice is hoarse. Her smile fades.

"I wish I could be just as strong as him. I wish I could destroy everything."

Playtime With the Monster, Part 3[]

Once again, the boy's classmates gather around his desk by the window. They excitedly chat amongst themselves whenever the boy brings up strategies for games.
As he speaks, his gaze drifts to the seat on the opposite side of the classroom. The girl sits alone, her head low.

Once, the boy had no place at home or school. But after meeting the girl, his life drastically changed.
Every day, they played video games in his room. And once the girl learned of his talent for it, word spread among his classmates.
This is how the boy who was once an outcast suddenly became popular.

But the girl, on the other hand... She has lost her place; switched positions with the boy.
One week prior, she stole bread from a shop, an act which brought to light a whole string of other thefts.
And though she has resumed coming to school, everyone now regards her coldly. Just a week prior, she had been considered an exemplary student. But such times are gone now.

And yet, once school is over, the girl comes to the boy's house so they might resume their play.
She controls her terrifying monster with a smile.
By destroying everything in the game—violently, viscerally—she relieves herself of her daily resentment. All while bruises peek from the sleeves on her arms.
When the boy's father returns from work, gloom returns to girl's face as she departs.

Now alone in his room, the boy stands and thinks.
There must be a reason why she did what she did.
She'd said her mother buys nothing for her, not even food.
Add to that to the wounds beneath her clothes, and there is no doubt the girl is in a terrible situation.

"I wish I could be just as strong as him. I wish I could destroy everything."
The boy recalls what she said: how she wanted to be the monster.

I want to help her.
Her friendship is the only reason his life has turned around.
And now it is his turn to help her.
He cannot stand by and do nothing. So once the boy knows his father is asleep, he slips out into the nighttime city alone.

Garbage is piled everywhere. White fluorescent light illuminates a room so disorganized that there is no path to walk.
In the corner, the girl huddles against a wall, attending to her homework.
A woman languidly nurses a drink beside her⁠: her mother.

The room reeks of alcohol. Sadness. Regret. When the girl coughs softly, the woman glares daggers.
She's going to hit me, thinks the girl as she cowers instinctively from the blow she is sure will come.

But then, the bell rings. The woman clicks her tongue and glares at the door. Who could be visiting so late at night?
She decides to ignore it.
But it rings again. And again. And again. And again.
Unable to bear the noise, the woman flings the door wide.
Only to find the boy standing in the doorway.

Vexed, the woman narrows her eyes at him. Why has a child come to her house so late at night? A moment later, the blood drains from her face. For the boy carries a metal pipe in his hand.
Before her stands a child—his voice likely still unchanged. Yet with such a weapon, even a child could very well have the strength to kill. The woman takes a trembling step back.
The boy raises the pipe in an attempt to intimidate, stepping on garbage as he follows her deeper into the room.
When he finally locates the dazed girl in the corner, he hurries to her side.
"Come on," he says. "Let's go."
He extends his hand.

"We'll be like the monster. We'll destroy everything."
She looks up in surprise for a moment—but only a moment. Seconds later, a small smile crosses her face.

Together, they dash out into the midnight city.
Whenever they find something they don't like, they smash it with their pipes.
The car the girl's mother uses to bring mean people to their home. The sign for the store that disparaged the girl for stealing bread. The windows of the school, a place ruled by useless teachers who did not even realize she needed help.

The girl destroys everything she hates, then gazes upon it and laughs wildly.
But it is not enough.
She lends herself to impulse, swinging her pipe at all she sees.

When the boy rolls up on a bicycle he found parked by the side of the road, the girl leaps on behind him. And then, they fly.
The nighttime wind cools their feverish skin, and they scream in delight.

After pedaling for a long time, the pair eventually comes across a road they do not know.
"I think we'll see the ocean soon!" cries the boy.
But the moment he speaks... The sound of a siren tears a hole in the night.
A red light flashes atop the car that rounds the corner, illuminating the pair in crimson light.

The boy's face pales; he knows the occupants of the car mean to arrest them.
We need to get out of here. If they are brought back, the girl will only find more suffering at the hands of adults.
The boy pedals with all that he is. But a child on a bicycle has no hopes of outrunning a car.

Before long, they are corralled into a dead end.

Playtime With the Monster, Part 4[]

The boy's father works from dawn to dusk. His mother is ill in the hospital. He has no parents. No friends.
But his gloomy life changes the day he meets the girl. They hit it off over a shared love of a video game—one they begin to play every day.
The girl is a star pupil with a bright personality, liked by all.
Yet when a series of thefts come to light, the boy learns the true circumstances of her life.
Her mother abuses her to the point where she must steal her own food to survive.
Hoping to save her, the boy breaks into the girl's home and steals her away. The race through the nocturne city, smashing everything with metal pipes.

The travel a seemingly impossible distance in the space of a single night. They thought they were almost near the ocean—a distance far enough away they would only ever see it on a field trip.
But when the adults catch them and throw them in the police car, understanding dawns:
They had not come far at all.
The car returns to the city in no time.
Adults pepper the boy and the girl with questions.
They ask why two children were playing so late at night. Why they were breaking so many things.
And though the adults appear sympathetic when they learn of the girl's plight, this does not make them kind. Instead, they only double down on their scolding.
When their teachers hear of it, they scold. When the boy's father hears of it, he scolds.
Part of the boy knows he deserves it; he ran through the city smashing things, after all. And yet, frustration weighs heavy on his heart.
None of them understand him. None of them understand the girl.

But life goes on. Though they attend school, no one speaks to them.
Once his classmates find out what he did, the boy becomes a pariah.
It is a familiar sort of existence, one he settles into easily.

Days pass. Winter vacation approaches.
The final homeroom of the day begins. But then, a surprise: The homeroom teacher calls the girl up to the front of the class.
She stands before the blackboard, eyes fixed on the floor. The boy has a terrible feeling, and his already frayed nerves begin to split even further.

The teacher announces that the girl will be transferring schools.
In that moment, the boy's world goes dark.
The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. The children bid goodbye to each other.
It's all so, so far away.

When the teacher and students leave, the boy remains in his seat. Across the room, the girl waits in her own.
The boy sits by the wall with the windows; the girl by the wall against the corridor. They are alone in in a cold, dark silence.

"I'm sorry."
The girl breaks the still first. From her distant seat, she slowly explains.
After the incident, relatives learned her mother was abusing her and decided to take her in. She is going to live in a city far away from her mother—and from the boy.
But the boy suppresses the swell of emptiness surging inside him and says:
"Good. I'm glad."
And he is glad, because now she can live a life without pain. She no longer needs to steal. She no longer has to suffer at the hands of her mother.
But the girl feels differently.
"I wish...we could have run away together."
Her voice is a whisper.
She does not want to move. Because once she does, it will mean the end of their time playing games together.
Deep down, they are of the same heart. Yet the boy knows there is nothing he can do in this situation.
They are children; they lack the power to go where they please.

The apartment is dark and cold. Light from the TV screen casts the boy's shadow across the floor.
He plays alone.
On the screen, the monster rages. Though the boy once always played the hero, he now chooses the role of monster.
The girl's favorite⁠ character. Her inspiration to grow stronger—and to destroy everything.
Sounds of slaughter burst from the speakers.
It gives him strange comfort.
He closes his eyes and imagines.

And now... He stands in a darkened nighttime street. But he is no longer human. He is the monster. He has the power to destroy.
The boy⁠ wails. The monster wails. Its voice causes the ground to shudder, rendering all to dust.

The school. His apartment. Park fences. Cars. Street signs. Distant buildings. Everything he can see. Everything. Everything. His scream destroys it all.
One after another, the lights in the city wink out.

Splatters of blood splash across the sky as the monster roars and roars and roars. Bricks dance in the air, creating a storm. The overflowing river swallows the city entire.
He takes everything in this world and destroys it. Everything but himself and the girl.
When his screams have ruined all, this planet is rendered into nothing.

The monster leaps into the air. His unsightly wings flap, carrying him across the ruined earth below.
And amidst the starlit wastelands, he finds the person he is looking for.
The girl is waiting for her monster with a smile.

Thus does he dream.
Alone in his dark room, thus does he pray.
If I am ever reborn, I want to be a powerful creature like the monster.

Ch. 2: City in Daydreams[]

Two weeks ago, Dad caught the disease that's been ravaging the city. It's called "the sleeping sickness," and people who get it suddenly fall asleep and never wake up again. No one knows what causes it—or how to treat it. And since my mom died six months ago, I suddenly found myself alone. But a few relatives reached out to help, so I kept going to school like a normal kid—except that I ended every day by visiting my father in a hospital.

But one day, I found him out of bed and scribbling a picture of a monster on the wall—even though he was still asleep. The doctors said they wanted to keep the drawing "for research," so now I have to look at this black, horrible creature every day when I visit.

And I feel like it's watching me.

I hear the other students singing off in the music room. There's a school-wide choir competition next month, and all the classes are practicing for their part. But I'm not singing—instead, I'm standing outside as my class president and his lackeys pelt me with questions.

"Why didn't you come to practice yesterday?"

I tell him I skipped practice to see my dad, but they don't care. Other kids have parents with the sleeping sickness, and apparently they're still willing to come sing a bunch of stupid songs, so I should just suck it up.

It's all BS. My mom is dead, and my dad is apparently going to sleep until he dies too. I'm unhappy enough at home; I sure as hell don't need people giving me grief at school.

As the class president continues to berate me, I close my eyes and scream inside my mind as loud as I can:

I WISH YOU'D ALL JUST SLEEP FOREVER!

There's a loud thud, then two more. When I open my eyes, the class president and his goons lying on the floor—the same way Dad did two weeks ago when he collapsed.

But then it gets worse. Way worse. Like someone pressed a switch, a continuous series of thuds and crashes ring out as people start dropping all around me. Students walking the halls. Teachers lecturing at blackboards. The janitor and his mop. Even the sounds of singing suddenly cut off, replaced by a cacophony of thumps as bodies meet earth.

I start running through the halls in a panic. Everyone is asleep. Everyone. The entire school has apparently caught the sleeping sickness at the exact same time. I run to the office and pick up the phone to call for help, but no one answers. Not the hospital. Not the police. No one.

Shaking, I run down the hall and burst out the door into a completely silent city. Everyone is down. Old people out shopping. Men and women in business suits. Kids. As far as I can tell, I'm the only person awake in the entire world.

I wander the city in a daze; it feels like walking through a weird, dark forest. With no idea what to do, I make my way to the shopping center, figuring there has to be someone who's still awake. And the moment I passed through the district arch, I see a tall, thin shadow at the end of the street.

Someone's awake! I think as I start waving frantically. But then my arm slows and slowly drops to my side as I take a single step backward.

Because the thing at the end of the street isn't a person.

It's a monster.

It looks a lot like the character in a game I used to play—and exactly like the thing Dad drew on the wall.

I have to be dreaming. This can't be real. I look down for a second to clear my head, then look up again.

The monster is still there.

And then it sees me.

The moment I catch its attention, it trills a pair of huge insect wings and rushes toward me. I should run. I should scream. But fear is my entire world, and my body has decided that shutting down is the best thing to do right now.

The monster lurches to a halt in front of me, staring down at my shaking, quivering form.

And then? It talks.

"I want to...eat dreams... I ate...everyone else's... I want to eat your dreams."

Its voice is coarse, like vocal cords being scraped over a cheese grater, but I can still understand the horrible things it's saying.

"M-my dreams?" I whisper.

"Your dreams. All dreams. When I eat all dreams, I will become human."

My body finally decides to let me have a modicum of control, and I take a step back, trying to put distance between us. But then, a thought appears in my head:

The monster said it eats dreams. Is that why everyone is asleep? Is this thing the reason for the sleeping sickness?

It's an insane idea, and I wonder briefly if thinking it means I've lost my mind. But then I remember there's a monster standing in front of me, and figure concepts like "sanity" have probably gone right out the window.

"Um, is no one's waking up because you ate their dreams?"

I'm clinging to this idea fiercely now, because if the monster caused everyone to fall asleep, maybe it could reverse the process.

"...Give them back. Give them BACK! GIVE MY DAD'S DREAMS BACK RIGHT NOW!"

The words come out of me in the loudest voice of my life, and the monster leaps away and begins to run. I don't even hesitate—I run after it, pumping limbs with newfound fury.

I have to get my dad's dreams back.

I have to wake him up.

I have to.

Ch. 3: Unforgettable Visage[]

I run down the eerily quiet main street of the shopping district in pursuit of the monster.

All my classmates had collapsed into a deep sleep. It was an illness that had been getting a lot of attention in town recently⁠—one where those who fell asleep never reawakened. The same illness that claimed my dad.

But students weren't the only new victims of the disease. Everyone was asleep now. Everyone except for me.

At the far end of the downtown shopping district, where I'd come in search of other waking people, I'd found a dark monster that looked like it stepped out of a video game. "I ate everyone's dreams," it said, and I was sure that was why everyone was asleep. But when I tried to scare the monster into giving the dreams back, it whirled around and fled. So I gave chase, because I wasn't going to let it escape until it returned Dad's dreams and made him whole.

I dash down the street, making sure not to step on any of the people sleeping in the middle of the road. Ahead, the monster runs with ferocious speed, occasionally pausing to look back at me, almost like it wants me to follow.

I eventually enter a run-down building on the outskirts of downtown. With a start, I realize it's the arcade where I used to spend so much of my time. As I follow the monster through a set of broken, sagging doors, the eerie silence of the city falls away, and soon my ears thrum with the noises of arcade machines.

I make my way forward, searching for the monster. Eventually, I find it standing in the furthest corner of the room, right in front of a darkened and forgotten two-player rhythm game.

I know this game: It's the one I used to play with Mom when I was a kid. And in the six months since her passing, I'd played it over and over, looking for a shadow of her memory in its brilliant lights.

Upbeat dance music suddenly blares out of a speaker as the machine springs to life. The monster stares at the neon screen and tilts its head, a human-like gesture without a hint of terror.

"This game's a lot of fun," I say, speaking to the monster before I even realize what I'm doing. It looks at me, gives a small nod, and timidly reaches out for the screen. But its hands are bulky and awkward, and I realize I'm going to have to take the lead. I drop a pair of coins into the machine—two coins for two players. Then we pick a song from the list. I doubt the monster can understand human music, so I choose for it—a song Mom and I used to play all the time.

The screen explodes with light as the game begins. Notes fly across the screen in tandem with upbeat music. Our task is to step on the correct panels at our feet, and as I move my body, I feel genuine joy start to bubble up from deep inside me. It's so strange⁠, but even with a monster standing beside me, I'm somehow enjoying myself.

As I dance, I glance at the neighboring screen. The monster is hesitant, stepping on panels with clumsy, awkward haste.

"You're so bad at this!" I chuckle. And it's true: The monster is dancing like a clown, and I can't help but laugh.

The monster makes something like a frown then, and begins moving its feet as quickly as possible. But the harder it concentrates, the more it loses its rhythm, and soon any kind of coordination has gone out the window in favor of flailing arms and legs about wildly.

As I watch the monster's awkward movements, I feel something well up in my chest⁠: A nostalgic yearning for a time that had slipped away from me so, so long ago.

The next thing I know, I'm standing in perfect stillness. I've never given up in the middle of a game before, but I can't tear my eyes away from the monster dancing next to me. It's so bad, yet its steps are filled with pure joy—a child suddenly presented with some new and unexpected toy.

It all reminds me of something. I know these movements. I know who the monster is.

"...Mom?"

What the hell am I saying? I wonder. I want to laugh and cry at the same time, but I can't help but think of the monster as my mom. I watched her dance like this countless times as a kid, and relived those memories countless times over the past six months.

The monster stops dancing and turns its eyeless face to me. There's a pause, an eternity filled only with the sounds of unending electronic music. Then the monster opens its mouth and murmurs my name in a dry, scratchy voice.

Ch. 4: Dancing With You[]

Everyone in town was asleep. My dad, the students at school, the people walking down the street⁠—everyone but me. It was all the result of a strange illness that caused people to suddenly fall asleep and never wake up.

Then a monster appeared before me, one the color of an abyss. It told me it ate everyone's dreams, which I knew was the cause of the illness. Then it ran off to the old arcade where Mom and I used to hang out before she died. We played a dancing rhythm game together, and I suddenly called the monster "Mom."

And the monster replied with my name. It used my name. The same one mom had given me.

Now, as I stand here stunned, it repeats my name under its breath over and over again. Like it's trying to remember something—or maybe confirm it. It then slowly walks over to me and reaches out to brush my cheek with a malformed hand.

"I...want to be human," it says. "I can be human if I eat everyone's dreams. And then I can see you again."

The monster⁠—my mother—is speaking to me. I can tell she feels terrible for leaving me behind⁠, and I don't blame her. I'm stubborn, impulsive, and terrible with people, and she'd always worried about me. But now, she's returned in the form of a monster.

I pull my mom into a hug. Even though the armor on her body looks like it would be cold, it holds a human warmth. I'm so happy to see her—and yeah, maybe that happiness is all just a dream, but you know what? I don't care. I just want to stay like this forever.

But I know Mom will worry even more if I say that out loud, which is why I have to find a way to tell her I can go on.

"I'm okay, Mom," I whisper. "I'm gonna be fine. But please give everyone's dreams back. Give Dad's dreams back."

When I say that, Mom wordlessly unwinds me from her arms. The next thing I know, her darkened form emits a soft, faint light that sort of...fades away into the air. Worried that she's about to vanish, my vision starts to blur with tears.

But to my surprise, Mom's fading hands reach down and select a new song on the arcade machine. Electronic music pulses. Without a word, she begins to stomp her feet on the buttons, her fading body moving with awkward, uninhibited joy.

She looks over at me. I can't read the expression on her blank monster face, but I can tell she wants me to join her. So I do. We dance together, giving in to childlike glee—just as we did when I was little. And while my heart aches to watch her vanish, that emotion is no match for the exhilaration I feel dancing with her.

Finally, the music ends. My feet stop. When I turn to look beside me, Mom is gone. There's no trace of the monster.

I feel like I'm in a dream. But when I look at the score on the screen—a score for two—I know she was here.

When I step out of the arcade, the sleeping people are all sitting up, their eyes wide and bewildered.

The monster⁠—my mom—has given everyone's dreams back.

I run to the hospital and discover that Dad is also awake. When I burst into his room, he's busy cleaning up the drawings he'd scribbled on the wall while asleep—drawings of a monster that looks very, very familiar.

"Kind of creepy I was drawing all this in my sleep," he murmurs. "It reminds me of a fairy tale I once heard—one where people who die are reborn as dream-eating monsters."

He pauses, embarrassed. He doesn't want to finish the thought and admit that maybe Mom died, become a dream-eating monster, and came to see us.

But I knew the truth: Mom did become a dream-eating monster and she did come to see us.

But I don't tell Dad that. I don't tell him tell the truth, because I feel like everything that happened to me is barely hanging on to reality. And if I tell a single person about it, it's going to slip from reality to a dream. So instead of telling him, I join him at the wall and help him clean away the scribbles.

"I hope you've been keeping your room tidy," he says to me at one point. "You don't get a pass on chores just because I've been in the hospital and couldn't remind you."

Okay, seriously? Nagging already?

But this time, I decide not to talk back, because I know Mom will worry if we started fighting.

I mull everything over in my mind as I watch the monster doodles slow vanish from the walls. I doubt the loneliness I feel from Mom's passing will ever go away. But now I know she lives on as a dream-eating monster somewhere. I know she's watching me from afar. And that's why I have to keep walking. Why I have to keep going forward.

The Monster's Instincts[]

"The dream-eating monster is a species that instinctually devours dreams in an attempt to secure a human form. This particular monster, however, chose to turn the girl back into a human rather than keeping the form for himself."

"Then he's acting against his instincts? How kind! It must be love."

Goodness, but those two are such a bother. Carrier always speaks in such a condescending manner, while his substitute just mumbles under his breath.

I know, I know—if Mama can't say anything nice about them, perhaps I shouldn't say anything at all. Still, I find our conversations so unpleasant!

"Why do these monsters want to become human, anyway? I mean, they're sturdy enough as is—far more admirable creatures than those human meatbags."

"How can you say such things considering all the knowledge you have on the matter?"

"Oh, but I don't know as much as you, my dear! Perhaps you'd be willing to teach me more about them, mmm?"

"...teach...more..."

"Well, how can I say no to that face?"

Carrier is right: I know far more about the monsters, which is why I understand just how much of a miracle his sacrifice is—and how close to destiny it flies.

With Love, From Carrier[]

"Hey, Carrier. Is she here yet?"

Silence, you incessant boob! It's always she this, she that with you!

"Goodness me! That is a bit worrying, isn't it?"

Does this fool even remember why he's walking around like this in the first place?
Well, better do my job and remind the oaf that this is no playdate.

"When you eat the young miss's dreams, you will become human."

"...I know."

"But of course you did! You are so clever after all, Master Levania!"

Good god, now I have to flatter this dunce just to keep him on track. You're working for ME, pal! ME!
And I'M the one using YOU! You ain't worth SQUAT without me, and don't you forget it!

...All right, that's enough internal screaming for one day. Best settle into work mode for the day and keep my darling idiots on the straight and narrow!

"Now then, I believe the young miss should be here soon."

"Hurry up."

The Monstrous Trio[]

Gloomy Monster: This dream...tastes bad...

Shallow Monster: Mine's great. I really hit gold this time!

Doubtful Monster: QUIET, YOU. TASTE DOESN'T MATTER.

SM: Don't be such a stick in the mud. Hey, you agree with me, right?

GM: You...are annoying...

DM: SEE? IF YOU WOULD BE SO KIND AS TO SHUT UP WHEN YOU GET THE HINT.

SM: Aww, that hurts! This is why all of you are a miserable bunch of monsters.

DM: I'M FINE BEING MISERABLE. DON'T YOU AGREE?

GM: I want to be...more cheerful...

DM: HAH. LIKE THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN TO YOU.

GM: How do I...be cheerful?

SM: Think of what a delightful future you'll have once you become human.

GM: Delightful...future?

DM: AND WHAT DELIGHT IS THERE IN BECOMING HUMAN?

SM: Oh, that's easy! It's... Actually, I have no idea.

DM: THEN WHY DO WE WANT TO BE HUMAN?

SM: No idea.

Promise for Another Day[]

Two figures stand atop red leaves blanketing the cold stone floor. One is the dark monster, the other the girl who follows close behind.

"There are so many things I want to do with you when you turn human, Mister Monster!" says the excited girl.

"Like what?" asks the monster without turning around.

"First I want to look at flowers with you. Next. I want to eat cake with you. Then, I want to study with you so we can learn lots and LOTS of fun things together!"

"What nonsense."

Though the monster immediately dismisses the girl's ideas, the strides which had kept him slightly ahead of her slow to a stop. After a moment, he peers down at her and says gruffly, "Just let me eat more of your dreams. Then maybe we can do some of those things."

The Path to Monsterhood[]

A silent girl stands on the dusty stone path and stares at a closed door. She holds thoughts of the dark monster in her heart—the one with willful eyes that appeared before her and Mama and then vanished. Though they pursued the monster, they eventually lost sight of it. However, there can be no doubt it now lies beyond the closed door.

The dark monster stands on the precipice of despair. Unable to understand human emotion, perhaps she will never comprehend the meaning behind the child's pain. The monster hates this thought, and curses her own powerlessness. But she also knows she can be the child's friend—and stay with her.

"I know how you feel, but let's keep going."

Mama's voice comes from behind the girl, gently urging her forward. And she's right—they have no time to stand about. They must restore the warped tales within the memories, collect the weapons, and take back the lost fragments.

Let's Be Friends[]

"You didn't get to be human, Mr. Monster?"

"It is...all right."

Amidst their struggles and clashing emotions, monster and girl at last assume their original forms. Their hands intertwine. They stand together in the light. And as he basks in the girl's warmth, the monster comes to a realization.

He thought he wanted to become human, and so followed his instinct to consume dreams. He believed that was his sole purpose in life. But now, as he looks at her smiling face, he realizes his purpose is to be her friend.