20200103

Day 1,945

Before you leave for work you make sure the radio is left on, lulling it to sleep so that you can forget it exists for a few brief moments. During your breaks you check your cameras to make sure it hasn't woken up and if it has you brace yourself for the ear-splitting screams it leaves in its wake as it hunts you down yet again.

In all your years under its watchful eyes you've never been hurt. Everyone else around your is fair game and it makes sure you know that. Makes sure you don't get too close or stray too far or start digging for information you don't need and shouldn't have.

It reminds you how lucky you are to have its protection by catching other monsters, ones that look far worse than it but were probably quite harmless. The corrugated iron roof of your shed was its preferred butcher's block, red with as much blood as rust and always swarmed by freshly hatched maggots.

Sometimes it seems like the world holds its breath and in those moments your freedom is so tantalisingly close you could practically taste it. In those moments you see your hands reaching for its neck, you see its body crumple to the ground and you see yourself running far, far away.

But the world sighs before you gather the courage to strike and you're left exactly where you were.

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