MYSTober 2024

31 vignettes based on single-word prompts. One story.

25. Bridges

The Figure crouched in the shadows behind a tree, watching a family from the town he once called home frolic at the far end of the log bridge that spanned the gorge. His head was filled with rage. He remembered now. A lifetime ago, he had been one of them – a member of the community. Then he'd been exiled, like Lucifer from Heaven. His crime? Caring too much. Trying to protect people.

He'd tried to return when he was able – venturing back inside the perimeter of town, watching people carry out their tasks, peering through windows. Whenever someone had noticed him, he'd lost his nerve and run away. How long had he been gone? Would they recognize him?

Eventually he gave up on rejoining the town. He wasn't sure he even wanted to any more. He was half a man at best, gangly and withered as he was, and after all, if they wanted him there then they wouldn't have taken him away in the first place. They wouldn’t have convinced him he was an 'it'.

It had taken him a long time to get his sense of self back. Having to fend for himself in the wilderness had made him strong, fast, and resilient. His tall frame was lean and wiry. His hair had grown past his waist. Cleaning himself seemed unimportant, so he stopped doing it, leaving his skin dirty and smelly. He wasn't the person the town didn't want any more, he was someone new. Someone with a fresh sense of life.

When he'd felt confident enough to face his former community, he returned again. This time he didn't flee from them – they ran from him, screaming and calling him Monster. He tried again, and again, but every time he attempted to make contact, he was met with fear and disdain, and forced to retreat. He wasn't a person to them, but a thing.

Still, he kept up hope that one day he would be allowed back into society. It was just a misunderstanding, after all. He just needed time to explain himself. But then they'd started attacking him. He tried to tell them who he was, that he was just trying to come home, but it had been so long since he'd spoken words aloud that only broken syllables came out, in a gravelly voice he didn't recognize. They threw things at him; hit him with weapons; chased him away. Then they hunted him. These were not acts of fear, but malice. He wasn't an exile, he was a Monster that had to be put down.

Now, crouched across from that family, his thoughts were no longer of going home. That person was dead, replaced by a brutal sense of vengeance. He slowly rose to his full height and stepped out into the open. It didn't take long for one of the children to spot him and point, drawing the attention of her parents. Then the adults herded them away into the trees. One of them turned back and spat in his direction before disappearing into the woods.

The Figure clenched his fists. "If they think I'm a Monster, I'll give them one."

MYSTober 2024

Table of Contents

25. Bridges