PULP & POPCORN

Page 72
"Interesting word. Monster."
"What would you call them?"
"The human throat can't form the sounds that make up their name."
"Then 'monsters' will do just fine."
"There is nothing heroic about having to kill one of them. There is no intentional
anger in their response to us. They don't even fully recognize us as sentient. They act by
instinct, out of pure need. They aren't monsters. They are too tragic to be called by such a
pointed name."
"So… how about it? Do you get used to this sort of thing?"
He considered the questions for a moment. "On the day of the Incident, when I felt
that bolt of energy hit me and I was pulled apart on a molecular level, it was both terrifying
and thrilling. Part of me was afraid of what was happening, but the fact that I could feel it
happening seemed to suggest that whatever it was, it wasn't killing me."
As he spoke, he paced, not looking at me, and it was like putting these experiences
into words was taking a toll on him. "There was a period of what I can only describe as…
unbeing. I was not myself. I was not bound in any way by any sense of self. I could see and
feel and experience all of time at once, an endless ribbon stretching out in all directions, and
I could fold it in, one point to another, see things start and finish side-by-side. I watched
the Big Bang, and I have seen the Final Sigh. I have watched lifetimes flash by in an instant,
spent weeks studying single frozen moments."
Finally, he stopped. When he looked at me, I saw that same rolling intensity of
emotion, just barely held back, that had scared me a few times before.
"Time collapsed. My understanding of time collapsed. And when I did mange to
regain my sense of individual perspective… only when I remembered that I was, in fact,
myself, did I become aware that I was in a specific where and a specific when. I had landed
in a place where I had no business being. I was the monster. I was the Intrusion."
"That doesn't answer my question."