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_ CW: Manic Episode, Transphobia Alegory, Fascist Rhetoric Depiction _

They would never feel like they did that night ever again, and they knew it.

They knew it, they knew cos the world did nothing but remind them of it tonight.

They knew it as they felt the distance between them and the other Monsters expand into a chasm of unfathomable size.

They knew it & they knew it wasn't necessarily a negative.

They knew it cos that same distance between Humans can only shrink at the sacrifice of Monsterhood

They knew it & they knew it was them that kept it a negative.

They knew they were not entitled to love...

But they didn't know, if such a thought came from a place of moral enlightenment,

Or if it was placed in their mind, but humans and Butters wrapped it in a ribbon which contextualises their pain as just.

We have reason to doubt it, from the looks and jeers of the humans we pass, the flinches, the dodging out the way despite being metres away from us? We know we got reason to doubt. But does that know and logic stay that doubt in any meaningful way? I never had doubt myself but...

They have to keep on this train of thought, they have to, they can't be hysterical, not on this walk, not while they're so visible to humans, they couldn't be a threat here.

We CAN'T behave tho, we couldn't, silence is a killer, a deadly trigger, because without noise we're just stuck with what they know.

They knew it cos deep deep down, even if they could behave, the cost would be too great.

But we know, tonight is a night to die. Should we die locked in our room with the blinds shut?

Or will they die retaliating to a 'sapian simply carrying the will of every Human that walks this earth?

A retaliation that would never been so barbaric as a direct strike, oh no! We're not talking about anything direct, no venom from their tongues. We mean a slow smothering, being bombarded with the little dog whistles, the symbols, the linguistics tropes, the stickers, all the hidden little reminders in everyday mundane existence. Just there to remind you that in every crowd, someone wants you dead.

They knew it, because of who decided to pass into their eyeline:

A Human, probably on her way back from the MERH (Monster Exclusionary Radical Humanists) meeting based on her outfit. It's the complete package; a 'Human safety matters' tote bag and a "Adult Homo Sapian" t-shirt. The idea someone would dedicate time, money and effort into the sole purpose of making them feel threatened and nothing else is what got them. It's not even a good outfit, like it looks like shit, but it's just for this exact psychic damage they're taking now. It's so much effort for so little, nothing more than a small beep in the sea of society. But hearing that beep every moment and everyday can be maddening, sometimes it feels like people, not even other Monsters could hear it. Just always there, every day, draining them of all energy. What little energy it left, Butters couldn't help to dedicate it to being drained themselves. They immediately start to ask: What did she discuss at this MERH meet up? How to harass that new Monster primary school teacher with such ferocity to kill themselves? Then how to use that death to prove our only path is to death? What Libraries that have texts that dare imply Monsters exists are they going to target next? What kind of terrorism is this dogshit island going to let them get away with this time? Arson? Assaulting the staff? Wasn't there gonna be a Monster documentary on the fourth channel? What MPs could they write too to get it pulled? Do they know their individual body count? Do they compare and smile as it rises? What if a train came in through the MERH meet and slaughter them all? Would anyone lament their loss? Could their families even muster the effort for a sigh?

The fact Butters is resigned to this life of solitude while enduring this constant unrelenting noise really gets them good, the very skin on Butters body grows dusty, they'll never be touched like they used to be, not anymore, this is it forever: Ired and hated till their grave. What they wouldn't give to just be embraced by humans, just another night like that one: Being held, touched, admired and fucked by one of them; their approval. Just to stop the noise for one night.

Meanwhile this slime in front of them probably gets to go home to their mansion with their family, on their way home from their 6 figure job they probs don't have to lift a finger to even do. Even worse I bet she busts out the rabbit every night to soak their bed while they read the list of Monsters that have committed suicide this week, orgasming after reading each and every name. Monsters who took their lives cos they couldn't take the constant noise anymore. I bet she imagines them the tears in their eyes as the life drains from their eyes, it's the highlight of her week. An 11 year old died after a pile on she organised? I bet the moans woke up the entire neighbourhood. There's no fucking justice, Butters can't take it anymore they wish they could just put their paws around this 'sapin's throat and just....

THEY wished, I did.

-And just... We did... Oh... Oh no.

As the mania spell fades away, Butters starts to inhabit their body again. Well it's not me Butters, it's Them Butters. While Alexandra took their annual trauma flashback to the Valentines uni party, muggins here had to get this body away from laying in the alleyway with their knickers round their ankles! But since SOMETHING woke up Alexandra's daydreaming and they were so rude to front again in the middle of the job, they're left to take over where I left us:

Butters finds their paws around the collar of the Old Human's shirt. Pinning her against a wall ready to throw the first punch, the feeling of her panicked breathing against their fur, it took so long for any of it to feel real again. What is happening? Tears stream from their cheeks involuntarily as if a wave of stimuli finally couldn't be held back anymore. No this can't happen here, not now, not tonight. Butters lets go of the woman and they mutter "She's not worth it" to themselves. Like to throw everything away over this? Not tonight. They started to dash, where were they? Where were they going? Fuck knows, they just needed to not be here. They find themselves nestling themselves in another alleyway, as their legs finally collapse. They just sit their on the ground, with their claws chipped, broken and bleeding, gasping for air in between their sky piercing cries. Everything is so much. So much and never ending. No time off. No peace. Never. The worst part is knowing that it's forever.