I saw you there, in the shadows. You were unformed, shapeless; yet I could see your crouched position, ready to pounce. I saw you watching me, but I pretended not to notice. Though you had no face, I could see your empty gaze and the grainy orbits where your eyes would be. From your amorphous mass I could discern venomous fangs, gnarled and arcing over an illusory bottom lip, the sharp points at the distal edges piercing back into your own skin.
By pretending to afford your privacy and avoid exposing your voyeuristic nature, I hoped to quell your inherent compulsion to scrutinize opportunities to cause misery and despair. My plan will never be realized. Into your core a thread of utter depravity has been weaved, and you thrive on any molecule of angst you can create.
There in the shadows, you are content to wait. There are many others like you that are with you, yet you’re alone. You feel alone, you know you’re alone, you don’t want to be alone, but you can’t be any other way. Suddenly, your misery-radar goes off! You spy a chance to make someone completely hopeless, and despaired. In this case, you can take something that person wants, even though you don’t need it, or want it. When you acquire things you have no use for, an unrivaled feeling of accomplishment comes over you. You feel powerful. Successful. Iconic.
You’re an utter failure.
Your unformed shadow moves. It is excited. It occupies space though it is not fat, or tall, or round. You slink across the expanse of space like a large jungle cat. Your mouth gapes open and a silent scream pervades the air. Your plan is foiled. I am the successor. You have what I wanted, for that moment. Keep it. Store it in your curio cabinet of vile immorality. I’m already over it. I have my sights set so far beyond your
oppressive blackness, not even the dispersion of your oily filth could smother me.
You lose, loser. We’ve both made spectacles of ourselves. But mine glitters.
