I have always wanted to be a monster.

There are those who want to run into that burning building and save small children from burning to death. That's not me. I am the one who may have started the fire.

I am the one who swallows their screams with the hunger of a ravenous raptor.

As they plead for their mama to save them, I remind them that I have murdered her, too.

I'm proud of my work but these days it's easier to end up with a trap door snapping open below and a neck breaking from the hangman's rope. There's far too much coverage and with social media going wild, I really have to monitor all the platforms to assure that no one can track me.

Today, I am a physician wearing a pristine white coat, saving children from leukemia while assuring I am referring them for further invasive studies that leave them traumatized. Tomorrow, I shall be that person on the street who just happened by when those children were drowning. No one believed them when they said the man who hurt them looked just like me.

My photograph is featured everywhere yet, when asked, none can describe me as I have deliberately clothed myself in nondescript apparel and mundane colors, unless the color of blood is required and then I strategically position it such that witnesses only remember the brilliant color. The thing about blood is it fascinates us. We understand it is essential to our lives but we also have a natural abhorrence to blood that is spilled. Unless, of course, you are a monster.

I personally have become a bit of a sommelier of various vintages of blood. There is old aged blood, like fine wine, blood containing remarkable spicy flavor, and the sweet blood of the innocent. I can never resist it and I am willing to make an exception to my customary patterns of behavior and secrecy, whenever there is a particularly tempting child who becomes available.

You must admit, there are some adults who are quite careless with the safety of their children. I assure you, I know all of the avenues for access to your child. Even now, you may be tempted to go and check their computer and their history just in case they have been secretly interacting with strangers.

But you see, I am not a stranger. I am their friendly girl/boy, very close to their age and I immediately acquire their belief that I am exactly who I say that I am. Or I am the one who will listen to them when no one else will hear them. I am their secret.

I have my job description fine-tuned so that it is flexible as well as interesting. There are so many who really want my position. The pay can vary, depending on the satisfaction you require, but there is always opportunity for growth. A monster is rarely static. There's always upward mobility.

When you think of monsters, what comes to your mind?

Some fire-breathing dragon of old who destroys an entire village or one that requires a noble knight to take him down? (There are often those who are cheering for the dragon's victory).

Or some alien who has arrived from space determined to eradicate all of human existence and he reeks of cold cruelty and the entire world must come together to stop him?

What of the latest craze fueled by dinosaur lovers who cheer every time T-rex devours a human?

And what of those orcs and goblins who kill in the darkness and we pretend to be horrified but we glory in their brutality and their strength?

I am all of these things. I have learned what pleases the masses and I take great pleasure in cultivating it and using it to my advantage in my line of work.

What is a monster? Is it a fictional creature mired in a fairy tale from long ago, in that tale where the children were actually eaten by the witch because they had foolishly fallen prey to her trickery? Ah but these tales of old were meant to be told as warnings to the young in order to assist them in staying safe from ending up in the witch's stewpot.

And why do you believe a witch might be a monster just because she chooses to eat children?

As you may have guessed, I have given this idea a great deal of thought. I do not make rash pronouncements or uninformed decisions. I review an issue from all sides because that is the only way to assure that I am providing an accurate and complete assessment.

I have also filled many roles. If I really want to understand something, then I slip into the skin of that particular beast.

You may assume from the attitude you may be picking up from me that I dream of becoming the most monstrous creature ever imagined. Perhaps a mad scientist who creates a toxin that shall wipe out the entire population of the world? Or a killer who orders the bombing of schools and churches?

The truth is, I always loved the idea of becoming a nasty reeking troll. Not those cutesy creatures they use in films and feature them as clever and misunderstood. I mean a real, hairy, beastly, sharp-toothed, clawed mountain troll who prefers the flesh of strangers who have inadvertently wandered into my world and takes great pleasure in ripping them apart. Those are fine aspirations. For many years, those dreams kept me going and I had goals.

But when I made my first kill as a troll and my victim stupidly laughed at me? It kind of ruined it for me. I do not tolerate mockery even from a condemned victim.

I'm not saying I was overly sensitive to this but it certainly forced me to reassess my aspirations.

I tried various monstrous personas and none seemed to satisfy me. Even the screams of the terrified can get a bit old. I was looking for something a bit more rewarding, perhaps a bit more subtle.

Maybe access to the internet had ruined me as well. I wanted greater satisfaction, bigger thrills, and more intensity. It was never enough.

Until that day I found it.

They thought I was a hero, every man's man, the one who would save them from their poverty and their misery. I would allow them to become monsters.

With the ease of having studied my subject for a very long time, I was easily able to persuade millions of people that I was the perfect one.

I could kill with the stroke of a pen or a midnight social media post that got them fired up.

Millions were being tortured and killed.

All at my hand.

I had always imagined that serving as a monster would be more overt. I anticipated the hatred although I did resent it just a little as I was also empowering them to behave freely as the monsters they desired to be.

But we love to hate monsters. I was exactly where I wished to be as well. It gives me great pleasure to acknowledge this.

I have become the beautiful beast of your darkest nightmares and with each day and hour, I am growing stronger.

Surprisingly, I am never sated. The ravenous hunger continues to grow in me and I am determined to devour the entire world.

I am a beautiful monster.

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