I know, I know, I promised a novel, but sucks to be you! I can't have that until about next year so you'll have to deal with this thrown-together-anthology. To my friends and family, here. All my worst stories. You're welcome. Merry Christmas. Or Hanukkah. White Day. Whatever.


6. Bones




I wasn't a murderer. I was a liberator. If you believe anything other than that then you don't understand what I do. They call me monster and yet I am the person they should least fear. I'm not going to completely hurt their fragile body - why would I? I have no need for something so flimsy and...and so lifeless. It's a vessel. It hurts them to store themselves in that sack of skin. Their souls practically call me for help as they sat in what seems to be their jail for eternity.
 I am saving them.
 They may not know it. They may just scream and call me murderer, call me insane but I am not. I am not. I am a liberator! 
 Yes, I cut their throats, yes, I make them cry,  and yes, I do make them bleed, but not for pleasure or revenge. I do it because I need to save us. I need to save the people who have been good but are given bad life. I help them. I am helping them.
 So before you, that officer on the other side of the one way mirror, the one who is staring at me with a look of horror on their face, before you call your little friends to come arrest me for being good and well and letting others get away from the cold cells in their own body, tell me why I am this way. Why do I need to free them? Why was I chosen?
 My hand is against the mirror. I see my own reflection. Funny, isn't it? I look alive when the media says I am dead. I look happy. You say it's insanity but you're wrong. You're so very, very wrong. I am the Bonewalker. I will lead humanity to victory over these constructed artificial vessels of flesh and blood.

 No, don't cry. Don't worry. I'll free you soon."

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