The Beast

For years, the monster has pursued me even in my dreams. Now hes standing before me. -Melanie Raabe
Silent and inky inside the best
As he weaves his web
Patiently waiting for a beautiful lady to come along and become entangled in his crafty trap
The type of trap that lets me, the beast, project the type of guy she dreams of being with
Such tactful rotten lies

The beast targets insecurity and the need to feel loved and valued
Because it is easy to trick, ensnare and finally destroy the damsel in distress
Savoring breaking those previously wounded hearts

Destroying is the beasts favorite part
It is what his dreams are made of to encourage him through the distasteful false display of love and romance
Filling her up with sweet words and kisses is essential to keep her trusting her place in my web
Its part of the fun watching betrayal shatter her heart and the confusion and fear flash like fireworks in their eyes
Triggering that animal instinct to survive

The fireworks display is the most intense rush
Like a high you cant get enough of
The hunt starts as I savagely shred apart all happiness and self-confidence she may have had
For a dessert, I rip her heart apart with my sharp teeth
This is why I, the beast, remain silent and my charm seduces her deep into my trap

Self-pride, self-confidence, self-love, and self-worth is everything I, the beast, detest to see in my lady pray
The peace and hope grates on my nerves
Targeting and irritating my rage and self-hate

How dare she bring those to the surface they are hers to carry
Loathing it I loath her
Resentment waiting in the inky stillness of my predatory soul
Provoking and agitating the inky beast inside

Hunting her down seems like a game to some, but it is a deadly serious hunt
It is where I fuel the rage and resentment as much as I can
Its when I target her most confident parts of who she is, who I envy, and break them down until there are scraps left
The hunt is when I hold on to irritations even the small insignificant ones
Throwing them at her
Enjoying the sight of her blood
Then I, the beast, brew up as big of a storm as I can manage and go for the kill

She attempts to soothe my anger
Desperate to slow the F5 storm threatening to devore her
It amuses me, the beast, to see her so ragged and afraid which some days earn her some affection or peace
It brings enjoyment to see the realization that the man she married was a beast
But the threat is always waiting
Loaded guns on the headboard
I enjoy playing with my food

The beast is a selfish predator
Dark like a southern gothic twisted and perverted mystery
Her sanity is as unstable as walking on marbles

Living off her pain and sorrow of destroying what she thought she knew
Manipulating, plotting, and playing games
The violence was sweet as cupcakes
Devouring my queen crumb by crumb

Unaware that strength and resilience is in her bones
Underestimating how she uses her intuition and intelligence to find an escape and speak the secrets the beast holds dear
She will escape
Written by Jadedembers (Starving demons)
Author's Note
This is about the psychology behind narcissistic abuse
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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