"I see monsters." I said looking blankly at the woman across from me. I saw her brow furrow, obviously confused by the context of which my statement was in.

"Well," she paused "what kind of monsters do you see?" she asked and I almost smirked at her apparent unrest. I knew I scared her and that's what kept me coming back every week. A new challenge, one more person who thought that they could 'fix' me, or whatever they want to call it.

"Sometimes their big and ugly looking other times their small and sometimes they talk to me but you don't have to worry" I said an easy fake, but what was sure to seem reassuring to her, smile spreading across my face. I took sadistic pleasure in the distrust in her eyes, maybe she was finally learning. I kept smiling and when she finally seemed to believe me I continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "Those monsters aren't real. The real ones could never be so nice." I said and waited excitedly for what I knew would be her next question. Unlike me the woman smiled somewhat proudly, she must have thought she was finally getting something out of me.

"Then can you tell me who the real monsters are?" she asked as if speaking to a small child. She probably thought I was going to break down and start babbling about some long suppressed trauma I endured. But all I did was smile wider and speak in a jovial tone.

"The real monster is the smile on my face and the giddiness in my voice" her smile disappeared from her face. "It's the shadow behind my back and the voice that whispers terrible things in my ear" she opened her mouth to speak, figuring that that was a queue to ask another question but I kept speaking. "It's the face I see in the mirror that isn't my own and the wish that I can only hope to dream of. The monster is the pleasure I feel as the blood drains from the wounds on my arms and it is the pleasure I hope to see when blood pours for your wounds."

She frowned deeply and she took a breath to calm herself. She looked at me with widened eye. She was speechless and no matter how much joy surged through me at the sight of her I carefully blanked my face into it's normal neutral expression and just watched as she tried to compose herself. She glanced briefly over at the hanging clock and then she almost sagged in relief. Unlike her I sighed disappointment. I had hoped she would rise to the challenge and question me some more but instead she would calmly tell me that we would end it with that and then as politely as possible she world throw me out of the room.

'How boring' I thought but perked up a bit, at least it meant I could go home after all I had things to do worlds to explore. The life I live now is just another game as far as I'm concerned and I do not plan to win or lose, though some would say I've already lost. No I stand behind every one just watching, drinking in the entertainment. So without complaint I left the frustrated woman's office, after all I would be back next week and we could play another game then.

This is just some of my musings but if anyone even reads this and likes it, review and I might put up another one and make it into a series.

The Angel Who Cries Tears Of Blood