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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1647112-the-essence-of-crazy
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by Arden Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Other · Death · #1647112
Tthe short opening to the novel I am currently working on: 'A Rose for the Devil'
You could say that life, is the essence of crazy. But then of course, life is the essence of everything. It is everything. Without life there would be nothing. Complete nothing. An incomprehensible nothing. We are afraid. Afraid of that which we do not know. Afraid of something that we can not grasp, something beyond human knowledge. We are afraid of death. Some may embrace it with, I have no doubt, good reason of their own, and others may take it in their stride, but it is not the physical thing we are afraid of. It is the aftermath. We are afraid that afterwards that there will be this nothing. We could imagine this nothing to be like a big black bottomless pit as such, but even then, that’s something. We in our short lived lives can not possibly even hope to imagine what this is like. What it is like, to die, as in fully die.
And not the kind where you’ve been ‘dead’ for so long and then resuscitated, real death. Permanent death.
The only possible way that people could successfully confirm or deny their fears is to have died themselves. But then, of course there’s no one alive to tell us of their experiences. We have mediums with all their jiggery pokery, but we have no solid proof. No one to tell us first hand, to extinguish this fear of nothing.
But what if there was?
What if there were people out there who could tell us of the dark secrets of the afterlife? What would we do as humans? Would we ignore them and turn them into fabrications and fictional creatures? Would we pass them by in the street and not even know? What if they tried to reach out to us and tell the world of their existence? Would we laugh in their face and pass it all off as nonsense?  Or…would we listen? The simple answer to that would be no. We wouldn’t listen, because we don’t. We can philosophise about the afterlife ‘till the cows come home, but it doesn’t stop us being scared of the truth, whatever it may be.
But if such people did exist  (and they do), a person dead but somehow alive. Their time would come to be seen, and to be heard across the globe, just as we have done ourselves. Perhaps even, their time would come to make us their prey.
Thus is the way of the world. We have crafted this Earth to the point where our only natural predator is Nature herself.  And even then, we live to try and break her laws and crush what little life she has left.
By ignoring their existence, we have allowed ourselves to become the prey. By all means, It is not solely our fault as humankind that these beings exist, their true lineage is unknown even to themselves. But it is us that hunted them and killed them, drove stakes through their hearts, and tortured them with sunlight, threw them out into the wild and left them to rot. We stripped them of their humanity, leaving bare a creature we labelled as evil. And soon, they became ‘evil’ so we ignored them and slowly turned them into something of fiction and fantasy.
These particular creatures of fiction and fantasy are of course, vampires. Night dwelling, blood lusting, true, undead, vampires.
You see, humans have often wondered of these mysteries and explored them in depth. Of course any proof of their existence has been dis-proven and passed of as fake. Fanatics tend to ignore these ‘falsities’ and over the years people have come to create their own beliefs and theories on the matter. Although some of these beliefs happen to be more true than others, the majority of what we think of as ‘vampires’ is a result of the disturbed fantasies of the human mind. With the addition of the twisted gothic romance, we have our image of vampires today….
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