Lonely. Can a monster feel lonely? A monster like me? You curl your front paws over each, head slumped over them, mane fluffing over your eyes. Good. Monsters like me don't cry. Not when you get beaten, bruised trapped. Not when the night grow lonely and hard and miserable. Not when the darkness consumes you. Not when the only sound of your monotonous repetitive life. Not when the soundtrack of your life, if you can call it one, was screaming and whipping and people running from the deadly flames you cant help. Not even when your pitiful existence is only good for one thing, the very thing that terrifies you most. War. Oh no, it's fine when Thalia, daughter of Zeus, is terrified of heights. No problem, when Percy, son of a sea god, is scared of drowning. Nothing to be stressed about, when Nico, hades child, has a fear of the dark. But when a Chimera has PTSD? Wishes for their own serpentine tail to poison them, end it for them? Lock them in a cage. And worse, far far worse, on display. Your mane, a myriad of browns is dripping from the crying. Your teeth, painfully sharp, your snake tail, painfully poisonous. Every-time you shift your tail, it stings you. But not as much as them. Them, the demigods, that chant and jeer and poke. The demigods, that overlook you, undermine you, dont care unless you have a body count large enough to not sacrificed be to the gods. Your only worth, the blood on your claws. You let out a soft whimpering cry.