The Greenland Diaries: Day 47
Bruises have invaded my back and elbows. I didn’t even know they could grow so fast. It looks like I’ve been decorated with a poorly mixed can of blue and red paint.
It took me all morning to pull the splinters out of my calves and ankles. That’s the only spot they punctured me. I’m not sure how that works. I’m just glad it wasn’t those little black thorns they throw. God only knows what kind of poison waits inside those darts. Everything about the monsters, every detail and characteristic, happens to be for killing. I can only assume the same with their projectiles.
Thanks to the little battle I can no longer get out of my basement unless I crawl through that broken window. The stairs are now a pile of broken wood and smashed boxes. When the caravan of monsters came upstairs to retrieve their fallen soldier, their weight broke most of the floor, and their frames shredded the walls.
I think they were angry. I think they want vengeance. If they have problem-solving minds like ours, they’re probably capable of complex emotions. Revenge motivates me. I’m glad I killed it. I want to kill more, and I will. They can’t torture us like we’re nothing but insects.
Despite my paranoid fears, and one day removed from this debilitating fight, no monster waited inside my basement for me. I thought a whole horde of their shadowy cohorts would come floating down. Not one came, not a single beast. Was my trail of glass to the outside that convincing?
I can’t get overly comfortable. One brush against a reflection and those faceless shadows will drift over and spy on me. I’ll be hunted down again. Not being able to look at yourself vexes your mind in unimaginable ways. I feel absent from my eyes, like I’m not really here, or the thoughts from my brain aren’t truly going to my tongue.
How did they know?
I told Gerald about what happened, how I killed the thing by default, by its own mistimed stupidity. He told me to be proud. Regardless of luck, the victory was mine. He was too afraid to fight these things, and he was happy I even tried to leave my hiding spot. He said if I’m willing to march to the slaughter like a tiger, instead of lamb, then there might be hope for us after all.
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