The monster was easy to understand.

It growled.

Destroyed things.

Left blood behind.

People fear monsters because monsters look dangerous.

Humans don’t.

That was the terrifying part.

The real damage was always done quietly.

By people who smiled while lying.

People who promised safety before destroying it.

People who knew exactly where to hurt you.

The monster only attacked my body.

Humans reached much deeper than that.

Sometimes survival changes nothing.

Sometimes you escape the nightmare and realize the nightmare was never the creature standing in front of you.

It was the person beside you the entire time.

— Twinkleash

Some are written to expose fear.
Obsession.
Grief.
The parts of ourselves we try to hide.

I write characters who survive things that should have destroyed them.

Sometimes they become monsters.

Sometimes they were monsters from the beginning.

This is only the start.

— Twinkleash