text: The first proper short story i’ve ever written, would love to get some criticism and feedback on it. thank you so much for taking the time to read it! Who am I? What am I? What is my purpose? I stare deep into my soul, and I see a dark mist, surrounding me from every direction, feasting on my doubts and loneliness, giving it power to grow and yet its hunger can never be quenched, for it wants my soul. And it grins at me, mocking my absence of purpose, and envelopes me in an illusion, as I felt myself floating as small waves of water lightly push me around, for I have nowhere to go, unable to swim as other people may, always tossed and dragged around by the ocean that represents life, as other people playfully swim and create ripples on the ocean, I only float, devoid of any ability to swim and nothing to swim for. Is this my destiny? what I was born for? to simply stare at the blue sky as I felt other people’s ripples gently hit me, unable to create my own, unable to leave my ripple, my mark, in this world? No. This is not who I am. Even though I was born without a purpose, forgot my dreams for an office job without any friends, even though I am a drop of water compared to the endless ocean, I will create a ripple, I will leave my mark, I will die a person who mattered, who lived for what he believed in, and I raised my hands and filled them with power, fed them with my desire of becoming a person that mattered, and brought them crashing down onto the ocean, and in a second that felt like a year, I felt true joy, the feeling of being a person who lived for something, as I felt my hands, filled with purpose, forcefully descent so close to hitting the surface of the ocean. So close.... The sound of my phone alarm pulled me out of my daydream and back into reality. I was motionless for a second, trying to slip back into the veil of thoughts and finish striking the ocean, yet it was a futile attempt. I snapped out of my imagination and stared at my phone, realising it was time to work, and got ready, feeling desolate and struck back to reality, pondering the alluring illusion of creating my mark in this world. Nothing eventful happened at work, just the daily struggle of trying to make it out without lashing out at my boss who told me I had to work overtime because Jimmy the Entitled felt like he had the right to call in sick an hour after his shift started. And so I worked, subconsciously glancing at the clock every few minutes, convinced that the speed of time varies on how much enjoyment you’re having, for every single second I spent at work felt like an entire minute. For me, this was hell. To be forced to live an uneventful life, work an unfulfilling job, just for the sake of staying alive and being able to have your essential needs met, closing off all the potential you had inside you, just because the stars didn’t align your way and chasing the goals you set for yourself as a child felt like an impossible task. As my shift finally ended, I got up and started walking to my car, letting out a sigh of relief as I congratulated myself for surviving another day. I started to drive home, as my arms ached from all the typing I had to do today, and felt my eyes slightly water and glanced at the side mirror and saw they were bloodshot, and I realised just how exhausted I was. As I drove on, I saw something on the road that caught my attention, a person talking to a homeless person. This was weird, since nobody usually talked to them, let alone at 12am. I slowed down and saw that the person standing seemed to be messing around with the homeless person, as he kicked his things around and started taunting him, but he just remained silent and looked at him with sad, pleading eyes. And then, the person took out a knife, and the homeless person started shaking his head, begging him to stop with tears in his eyes. My eyes grew wide at the sight of that knife and tons of scenarios flew by my head as I tried to figure out what I should do. Should I drive on? Should I stop and help? I thought about calling the police, but by then, who knows what would’ve happened to the homeless person. I made up my mind and pulled over next to them. If anything were to happen to me, at least it would be while doing something brave. “What’s going on?” I asked them both. “None of your business, fuck off.” To which the knifed person replied. “You shouldn’t be messing around with him, he’s just minding his own business.” I told him, glancing at the homeless person who now had a look of terror in his face. “We’re also minding our business, you got a problem?” He replied, stepping up towards me, brandishing his knife. What should I do? This was the perfect moment to tell the homeless person to make a run for it, yet I’d put myself in danger if I did that. And in a split second, vivid images came crashing down onto my thoughts, of the dark mist surrounding my soul, staring at me as a predator stalking its prey, and how helpless I felt in the ocean, nothing but another insignificant human who would never leave a ripple in the ocean. This was the time to prove myself I could live by my ideals and create my own ripple. “Run!” I told the homeless person, who immediately got up and started fleeing as the knifed person looked at me with pure anger, and raised his knife, and my body was filled with anger, wondering why do people like this exist, where the only ripples they create were about suffering and terror, and I grabbed his wrist before he could strike. He tried to resist, but in the next second, I felt no resistance at all. I let go of his hand and stared at him, a look of terror and confusion tainted all across his face. “Wh-what did you do to me?!” He yelled, frozen with his hand up, posing like he was about to stab me, as he kept staring at me, then at his hand, then back at me. I didn’t know what was happening until I stared at his wrist. A grey-coloured patch was there where I had touched him, and began to expand to his hand and arm, and confusion flooded through my mind as gravity started pulling me to the ground and I struggled to stay up, unsure of what I was seeing, and stepped back as the grey patch consumed his entire arm, clothes and all, and started to expand to his neck and chest, as he struggled to breathe, tears reflecting the moonlight welling up in his eyes as he stared at his arm, evidently trying to move it to no avail. My body started to shudder as my vision became dizzy and I dropped down, my breathing becoming unnatural as I stared at him, his whole torso now nothing but an unmoving grey sculpture, and saw the grey matter expand to his arms and legs, until finally, I was staring at not a person, but a grey statue. It took me a while to fully comprehend what was happening as I stood down on the streets, staring at what was human a minute ago, now an unmoving, unbreathing grey statue. I stared at different parts of his body, trying to see a bit of colour, yet found none. My stomach lurched as I felt my dinner finding its way up to my throat, and I vomited onto the sidewalk. I tried my best to regain my composure after that, and tried to push the extremely heavy statue, and stuffed it inside my car, thinking it would be better if I held onto it for now rather than leaving it on the sidewalk. I was sure I broke all speeding rules that night. I rushed home, only focusing on not being seen by anyone and keeping the questions for later. Scenes of what I just witnessed, or what I had just done, flashed through my mind like a slideshow. His look of terror, the spreading mass of grey from his hands to his body, like poison spreading out and consuming his body whole, as he finally caught up to what was happening and started crying, too shocked to say anything, his eyes gushing down tears as he traced the spreading corruption. I arrived home before long, and immediately took out the statue, and spent half an hour trying to move it into my attic, as I became progressively more exhausted, sweat dripping from my eyebrows and my breaths uncontrollable. As I stood him up in my attic, I sat down and stared at it, wondering what had just happened. I grabbed his wrist, and thirty seconds later, He was a statue. Did I gain a power? Did my emotions, rage and inability to accept the existence of evil in this world trigger it? Am I a monster? One thing that I knew for sure was, at that moment, I had gotten rid of an evil person. He was about to do something bad to that homeless person, and I saved him, killing another person in the process. A million thoughts swam across my head. Is this who I am now? A person blessed with a curse? Can I control this power for good? As my thoughts and vision became heavy, my vision started blurring and blacking out, and I took one last look at the statue before drifting away. I opened my eyes to be surrounded by the dark mist once again. I instantly felt desolate, remembering that this is the form of my own hopelessness, my inability to live with a purpose, and yet, I could make out a small, hissing noise, high-pitched yet barely audible, and all of a sudden, the mist spoke out to me. “Hello, Dante.” The voice belonged to a woman, high-pitched and almost whispering, carrying the same hissing as the one I heard. “Who are you?” “I am Medusa. I have come to give your life purpose.” “You.. did you give me that power?” I asked with a trembling voice. “Yes.” It replied, and a wave of both terror and anger filled me. “Why?? Why me? You just made me take a person’s life! Am I not going to be able to touch anyone now?” I yelled, to which the deity across me sighed, a silent, hissing sigh. “I have given you purpose. The person whose life you took was about to take the life of that homeless person you saved. You have gotten rid of an evil human, and this is how you thank me? I have given you a divine power, filled those purposeless veins of yours with meaning, the ability to get rid of evil, to be Judgement itself.” I thought about how people have done me wrong, how much i’ve had to suffer, how many times other people’s lives have been ruined because of bad people, and for once, I could change that. I could make other people’s lives better. For once, I could make a ripple in the ocean. “I..I... The power you gave me.. Will I be able to control it?” I said slowly, unsure of my capabilities. “My child, you are special. You are a blank slate, that means it is free for you to draw whatever you want in that soul of yours. You mistook me for desolation and despair, when in reality, I am your saviour, I have given you my forbidden fruit. No human should ever take a bite from it, yet it granted Adam and Eve consciousness, a chance to be different. Now, tell me, don’t you want to be different? don’t you want to leave your mark? don’t you want to matter? You can be a king among humans, use your power to rid the world of all evil, to be the saviour of this corrupted world.” As it said those words, I felt something new awaken in me. I smiled as I felt a surge of pride run through my whole body, and thought about my newfound power. All those people who make the world an ugly place, I can now exterminate. Those vermins that place themselves above other humans will be my prey. One touch was all it took to turn them into stone. I stared at my hands, as a slight shock ran through my head and down to my legs. Is this what it felt like to have purpose? I am now out of my shell, a new person, destined to make the world a better place. “Can I control this power?” I asked Medusa. “Yes. It only takes effect if you will it.” It replied. “Then I will use this power.” “Good.” Medusa replied, and she laughed, a creepy laugh mixed with a delightful hiss, and I woke up in my attic, staring at what was once a vile insect of a human, now a lifeless statue, and I went to bed and slept soundly, knowing that I have the power to rob someone’s life in my hands. When I woke up, I called sick for work, and when my boss told me to come in or else he’ll cut my pay, I hung up the phone. He has no idea I can take his life. He has no idea who I am now, nobody does. I have the freedom to turn anyone into stone and nobody would question the quiet, lonely, timid person. I. Am. Free. That day I drove around, trying to find my next victim, who will quench my hunger for justice. I scanned through the faces of people all around me, living their life as normal without knowing that they were in the presence of a human with godly power. When the sun settled, I found a person who was dealing drugs with a minor. I smiled slyly and studied both of them, and when the buyer had left, I got out of my car and made my way towards him. “Hey man” I said, with a confused look in my face. “Sup?” “You got gas?” I said, and he looked at me cautiously. “Who’s asking?” “A person filled with purpose.” I replied. He looked puzzled and studied me for a moment. “Nah.” He said finally. “Then I’ll see you in hell.” I said, and summoning my anger towards all the wrongdoers in life, touched his temple. “What the fu-“ He blurted, but was stopped as my power spread through him and took over his head. The process took much faster than last time, when it took about thirty seconds, but now, it was barely even five seconds. I stared at my magnificent creation, a statue of a person with long, wavy hair, with a look of anger in him, reaching towards me with his hands outstretched. I smiled and spoke to the statue. “Do not show me your anger, it pales compared to mine.” I said silently, and then took the statue to my car, and drove home with a sense of satisfaction painted all over my face. After I got home and stored the second statue in my attic, I stared at them both, smiling broadly in contrast to their terrified, angry, ugly faces. “You two are the first of many. I will not stop until every person that has done evil in this world is nothing more than a statue, and nobody can stop me.” I said, my eyes dreamy. The prospect of being a king among humans, to wield the power no human has ever seen before, it was bliss. I used to float about in the ocean, powerless, yet now, I had the power to create a tsunami. As the days went by, I made sure to keep busy. I worked normally, though with a brighter face that threw everyone off guard, yet they appreciated my newfound confidence and never questioned it. But when nighttime came, I went hunting, scouring the empty, dark streets for prey, making sure I brought back a statue with me every night, and soon, my attic became filled with statues of people who had an ugly soul, and I would sit there for hours at end, marvelling at my gorgeous statues, whose sight did nothing but make me even hungrier, and I would stare at their facial expressions, some of terror, anger, confusion, sadness, and I laughed at them and their foolishness thinking their bad deeds would not go unpunished, that they would escape from the grips of justice. I researched police records and eavesdropped conversations to find victims, and it paid off well. I caught a murderer who got away free, a corrupt businessman, a registered sex offender on probation, and many more, and even as the dissapearances were starting to get attention, nobody has suspected me. For once, my life felt whole. I finally knew my purpose. I had opened the Pandora’s Box I had inside me, and the beast within weeps at the world, and commands me to free the world from evil. It was hard trying not to reveal myself when my abilities would put the world in shock. I wanted credit for what I’ve done, I wanted people to know that I’ve been doing god’s work, I wanted people to worship me. But now was not the time. When the time comes, I will emerge from the ground as a king, a God among men, and show the world their saviour has arrived. One day, I will create a wave in the ocean so big it’ll make others seem like merely a drop of water in calm, resting waters. Today was a usual day in my new life. I woke up, made some coffee, and went up to my windowless attic to enjoy the morning with my unliving companions. I took in the smell of all the stone from the statues mixed in with dust, and enjoyed my coffee. Then I went to work with a beaming smile my coworkers are still not used to, and worked passionately, knowing that my true job awaits me later. I stopped watching the time, and instead thought of every second spent as another second of mercy for my next victim before I strike and morph them into stone. When the clock struck nine I got up and left my office, and got a call from my mom. She wanted to see me, and said she missed me. I figured I had time to spare, since the streets would be more deserted by the time I was done. And so I drove over to her house. When I arrived at her front door, she welcomed me and told me to come inside, and made me tea. Afterwards we talked a lot, about my job, how I’ve been living, If I’m seeing anyone at the moment. It was a great time. “You seem much brighter these days, Dante.” my Mom said, smiling. “I’ve found something to live for.” I replied, a wide smile etched in my face. “Of yeah? What is it?” She asked. “All in good time, Ma.” I said, and she didn’t pursue the subject, and instead asked another question. “Have you heard about the disappearances lately? It’s pretty scary.” She asked me, and my eyes grew wide for a moment. She was talking about my victims. “Yeah, What about it?” I replied, trying to regain my coolness. “It’s just scary, how a person can do these things to another person. with no guilt at all.” “Did you read it correctly? The people that disappeared were all bad people, Mom. They deserved it.” I said, slightly annoyed. Why is she doubting my judgement? I wondered. “That’s not the way to go. Fighting violence with violence changes nothing. The amount of violence stays the same.” My mum explained, and I felt a rising heat at my heart, the one you feel when you suddenly feel a lot of anger. Is she opposing me? I have been doing God’s work, and she thinks I’m wrong? How dare she? “One of them was a murderer, the other a sex offender! The person who did this wasn’t wrong, the person only gave them justice! The person gave those bad people judgement!” I started yelling, and my Mom was taken aback. “Dante, that isn't judgement. Judgement also counts in all the good that people do, and weighs both of them in a scale, and decides which one outweighs the other. That is judgement. What this person is doing, is wrong. Nobody is wholly evil, nor is anyone wholly good, for that would be just as unnatural. Such is life. We have free will and consciousness, and both good and evil live inside us. It doesn’t matter what they did, what matters is what they do with it. I bet some of the people that disappeared was a reformed person who changed his ways.” My Mom said. At that time, I suddenly doubted myself. Was she right? Instead of being a God, a Judge, who rained judgement on other people, had I only been a serial killer? I killed bad people, did that make me a bad person as well? Am I part of the evil I tried to eradicate? I stood up and left instantly, and my Mom ran after me. “Dante, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bro-“ She was abruptly cut off, and I turned around to see why. At that time, Both of us froze. She tried to grab my hand to stop me from leaving, and in a fit of rage and confusion, my power showed up and took my Mom victim. She stared at her hand, which was now nothing but a bloodless grey hand, as it ran and spread to her arm rapidly like a fire, sucking out the life out of her body slowly. She stared at me with tears in her eyes, her bright, grey eyes now bloodshot and despairing as she uttered her final word and took her last breath. “Dante...” And then, she was nothing but a statue. My Mother, who raised me and gave birth to me, was consumed by my powers. I tried to move, but my body felt incredibly stiff and shuddered uncontrollably, as I slowly walked towards what was once my Mom and hugged her tight. As tears streamed down my eyes and dripped on to the statue I hugged, I slowly opened my mouth to speak. “I’m sorry..” And then, I shook uncontrollably and lost my balance, and the statue fell. I yelled and took a step back, my creation now stood in smithereens as dust spread through the floor, and amidst the rubbles, I saw a gleaming, yellow light. I moved away pieces of stone and picked it up. It was a small, fist sized, golden little ball. I stared at it and wondered what it was, until a realization came over me and I cried even harder. It was her heart. Made out of pure gold, a small golden heart among bits of stone and dust, lay her heart. I drove home instantly after that, went straight up to the attic, and saw the tens of pairs of eyes staring back at me, and I saw them in a different way. As humans. I walked over to the statue of my first victim, the person who nearly assaulted a homeless man, and knocked it over. Another golden heart. Then I went to the drug dealer’s. Again, a golden heart. Murderer, a golden heart. Sex offender, a golden heart. Corrupt businessman, a golden heart. And soon I had knocked over all the statues, and held all 17 golden hearts, including my Mother’s. I cried silently as I hugged all those hearts, and apologized to my victims. I always thought that evil was unnatural, when in reality, it was a part of being human. I was so caught up in exterminating all wrongdoers in life I failed to realize I had become the vilest monster of them all. I never brought judgement, only evil. I desired purpose for so long I failed to see the fact that my purpose was inhuman. Maybe the hearts of my victims when they were alive were made out of stone once, but who am I to say it would’ve stayed as a stone forever? What if they had what it took to change that stone into gold? I thought about what my mum had said. “Fighting violence with violence changes nothing. The amount of violence stays the same.” “Nobody is wholly evil, nor is anyone wholly good, for that would be just as unnatural.” I was so caught up in trying to make the world purely full of good I failed to realise, evil is required for good to exist, just as a shadow is required for a light to be cast. Evil will live on as long as I force the world to be full of good, achieving nothing but adding more statues. I realized that this power of mine, what I thought was a blessing and would bring my life meaning, was nothing but a curse, dooming me to turn into a murderer. I closed my eyes and tried to convince myself this was a nightmare, that I’d wake up and get back my absurdly beautiful, innocent, purposeless life. Yet, In the distance, I could hear a strange hissing noise. I opened my eyes to see the dark mist envelop me once again, and I yelled at the being that gave me this power. “Medusa!” “You have become a monster, dante.” She replied. “Take my power away from me! I don’t want it anymore!” I yelled, with tears running down my eyes. “What about being a king among humans? What about your purpose?” She asked, her high pitched hissing voice mocking me. “I don’t want it anymore! Let me be ordinary!” I yelled desperately. “I can’t do that. You’ve stared at me, and I stared back at you. The bond we have cannot be broken. Look at your heart.” She said. And as I lowered my head and looked at my left chest, there was a grey patch, but unlike my victims, it was unmoving. My heart was made out of stone. I was the true evil. “You will live like this until you die, Dante.” Medusa said. I dropped down to all fours and weeped, grabbing my chest and feeling the rough texture of stone, remembering all my victims and the unimaginable fate I put them through, and yelled. After I yelled, I raised my head to see I was back at my attic, surrounded by debris, dust, and large chunks of broken stone all over the place while I was surrounded by the golden hearts. I thought about how I used to float at the ocean, purposeless, drifting about. That fate would’ve been better than this one, where instead of fresh seawater, my ripples, my mark on this earth, was made out of tears. I stared at my hand, and I realized what I must do. Filling my thoughts with the hate I have for myself, the will to eradicate all evil from this world, I eradicated one last evil. I touched my head, and took a look at my attic for the last time, once filling me with pride and sense of justice, now only hopelessness and desolation. I closed my eyes. And in the distance, I could hear a faint hissing sound.