Things That Should Not Be
There are monsters.
They live at the edges of our awareness, hovering just beyond the reach of reason.
Sometimes they whisper from the dark corners of a room.
Other times, they wait just outside the glow of a dying campfire.
We’re told monsters aren’t real.
But we know better.
Because monsters take many forms.
Some rise from nature itself, representing forces beyond human control.
Others are born from science, like Frankenstein’s creation,
reflecting our fear of what happens when knowledge outpaces wisdom.
Then there are the ones closer to home.
The Doppelgänger.
The shadow self.
Dr. Jekyll’s Mr. Hyde.
These are not creatures we encounter in the wild, they are reflections of what we suppress within ourselves.
And then, of course, there are the most terrifying monsters of all:
The human ones.
They walk among us. They look like us. Their distortion is not visible, it lives beneath the surface.
History is filled with them, and unlike legends, they do not stay confined to myth.
So why are we drawn to monsters?
Because they serve a purpose.
Monsters disrupt the natural order. They challenge what we believe is safe, stable, and understood.
In doing so, they force us to confront the unknown, both in the world and within ourselves.
They are not just threats.
They are tests.
From the Sphinx of ancient Greece to the creations of Shelley and Stevenson, monsters have always functioned as gateways,
forcing us to think, to adapt, and ultimately to evolve.
Even modern stories continue this tradition.
In The Wind Rose Conspiracy by Lukman Clark, the character Brandon Blake
encounters beings that blur the line between external threat and internal transformation.
These are not simply obstacles—they are catalysts.
Because in the end, monsters are not just something we fear.
They are something we need.
They reveal what we are capable of becoming, if we have the courage to face them.
