"What defines a monster?"
It's a question I ask myself everyday, as I go about my routine. Drive along, do my job, and stop to have my meal for the evening. Around me, all I see is the gaze of disgust.
Men and women with pointed ears, short and tall, slimy or smooth. Skin of all pigments. Bodies of all shapes and sizes. Races from all walks of life. Is it looks that define a monster? The way we all look so different? The gruff stares of disapproval? No.
Their personalities vary so heavily. Some can be as kind as a loving mother figure, where others can be as nasty as an angry butcher. So then, is it how we act? The way we can change our emotions in the blink of an eye? No.
So then, what is it? What is it that defines a monster? Ideology? Strength? Belief?
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What makes me a monster, then? The stares... the words... They cut into me like a razor, time and time again. The cuts leave no scars anymore, however... I never did anything to deserve it, and I know it... but after all this time, it makes me believe I did.
I'm different. Obviously. Among all the mir of the world, what am I? A Jotunn. A race of human, who have long been eradicated for a history that was erased from time. A human, who can use magic no less. The chances of my existence are so minimal, I've been told that lightning could strike a dime in the middle of the ocean ten times in a row, before I could have even existed.
Aren't I a miracle, then? Or am I really a curse to this place I try to call "home"? Who knows anymore. I sure as hell don't. All I know is that I'm lucky, but for the wrong timeline.
I suppose I should introduce myself, if you really want to know me. My name is Celeste, and I work as a Plague Doctor. Keeping the streets clean is what I do, because all and all... it's all I can really do for a living anymore. Besides... It gives me a reason to take out my emotion, before I show it to anyone else.
You wanna know what a monster is? Me.