“Life is strength.” Warren spoke suddenly as he sat on a bench in the middle of Dearborn Park.

The sky was dark, and the cool spring night in the park was quiet. The bench was not very comfortable but he found himself lost in the sounds of the world around him. The crickets in the grass chirped out a nocturnal song, while the faint sound of the breeze caressed the back of his neck, sending a slight spasm of cold down his spine.

He looked to the company he had sitting by him on the bench. “This is not to be contested. Why? Simple. When you live, you affect your world.”

He held his arms outstretched, like he was waiting for something to fall from the sky. “What greater power could one ask for than the ability to affect the world?”

With his index finger pointed and shook it like he was trying to make a point. “Only recently have I come to realize this. I don’t quite have it all figured out yet, but every day brings me a bit closer to the truth.”

“Please, allow me to explain.” His “guest” just looked at him, puzzled, as if he was actually a part of this conversation or just there for the sake of being there.

“Jael Carver. I stole her art, sure. Why? Well, I suppose the simple answer is: that’s what a thief does. Let’s face it though; deep thoughts like this are not about the simple answers. You see, at first it was to hurt her. Yeah, I know, I didn’t even know her.” The company gave a blank stare; apparently they didn’t know Jael Carver either. “So, why hurt her right? Easy. It’s fun to watch all the little Whos down in Whoville all cry “boohoo”. And let’s face it, I was only around her for three minutes and I could tell she was an emotional ball of crybaby. So, I took her art and got paid.”

Warren stood up from the bench and begun pacing back and forth. Now he’d done it the thoughts were flowing now, his brain churned with rational thought as he strode back and forth threatening to wear a trench in the ground with his hurried steps.

He turned and faced his company that was sitting quietly on the bench. The park patron leaned back, a bit unsettled by his sudden movements. “So, I got to thinking why? Why do I like seeing people hurt do much? I suppose it’s because “mommy” was a heroin addicted, religious moron who kicked the hell out of me. Oh, I know! Maybe it’s the military academy I was put into. Yeah, they treated me like shit. We were like guinea pigs right at the dawn of a new era, our era. Or, perhaps it was the military; maybe they did it to me. All they did foster every negative emotion I ever had. They locked me away, trained me to hate, kill, and show no fear; and truth be told, I loved every minute of it.” He leaned in close to his somewhat trapped guest. “But you know what?”

“It’s bullshit.” He shrugged as he spoke. “Yep, all of it. Just excuses. A place for me to cast my blame and justify my actions.”

“I am a monster.” His death like complexion and glowing yellow eyed only helped to reinforce his previous statement. “Or am I?” He cocked his head to the side in a puzzling manor, like he was questioning some unknown entity. “But Revvie! You donated money to Irinni! That was very kind of you!’ Was it? It was done out of guilt. I didn’t give them that money so they could live nice happy lives; I did it because I felt guilty for hurting a woman who never did anything to me. I hurt her for kicks, I hurt her so that I could feel alive for a few moments.”

He lowered his head, shaking it slowly. “And I called The Wakinyan a sad creature. Heh. Man was I a hypocrite.” He chuckled slightly.

The death tainted Nova threw his arms out wide, facing his new buddy. “And here is the kicker, so wrapped up in self loathing am I, that I feel life isn’t worth it anymore. So basically I lead her to me so I can irritate her into an emotional murderous frenzy so she’ll kill me.”

His arms fall to his side. His resonant voice fell into a ghost like whisper. “Monster, and a coward.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked off. His company, not seeing any point in missing the rest of this introspective babble gave chase. Soon the two walked side by side through the park. “So what’s the point of all this? Whose fault is it that I am this way? The academy? The military? Perhaps it’s the taint of my condition.”

“Nope.” He spoke softly.

“It’s mine. All my accomplishments have been by my own hand, all my failures, my own undoing. No one, not man nor god has dictated my fate. This world has never made me into anything that I have not let it make me into. I am the problem.” As he spoke, he thrust his fingers into his own chest accusingly. “I caved in. I was weak. I allowed the world to forge me into the very monster they wanted me to be. Where did it get me? Well,” he shrugged. “I lost everything I held dear. My friends, my lover,” his next words came through moist eyes and clenched teeth. “And my unborn child, all slain by my hand. Slain by an ignorant man consumed by the thought that there was no fate for him but that which the world had given him.”

“Fate? More bullshit.”

“There is no fate in store for us except that which we choose to accept. Argue that if you wish, it matters not to me. We live in an age where the weather, matter, life, and even time itself can be altered to suit our own ends. Personally I think Destiny said ‘fuck this job’ a long time ago.” Warren chuckled slightly at the last comment. “I accepted my fate, it consumed everything I loved, and now it seeks to consume me. Now, this is who I am. Like the man who dedicates his life to revenge, after dedicating so much to revenge, after he has it, what else is there? It becomes a part of him; it’s what he knows. His nature.” He walked on. Holding his hands out in front of him, as if the metaphorical blood on his hands was truly there for him to see.

“So, I’ve been here thinking. Yeah, can you believe it? Me, thinking. Make jokes if you like because quite honestly I don’t do it very often, yeah I know, it’s obvious. I’m not stupid; so quit giving me that look.” He turned to his company with a scolding look, but the obvious humor was plain on his face. “You see, I was taught that thinking leads to hesitation, and hesitation can get you killed.”

“Yep, you guessed it, more bullshit.”

“You see, thinking does lead to hesitation.” He conceded. “The mind is by its very nature rational. When you stop to think, your mind will process the current scenario and plot several routes to a what?” He paused, waiting for an answer. Before his traveling companion could provide one, he answered for them. “Good guess, a rational outcome. With no one barking orders at me I’ve been forced to think for myself, and quite frankly it scares me. I’ve never had to before. And so far, thanks to my very nature,” his voice fell back into a silent mournful hush. “I’ve made all the wrong ones.”

“So, I guess that leaves us with one question. The mother of all questions.”

He stopped. His demeanor was serious, so serious it seemed that the park itself slowed down or fell silent completely, hanging on his next choice of words. “What does it take to change the nature of a man?”

“Time?” He gave his follower an inquisitive look. “With enough of it, a person can become anything they want.”

“Joy? The ecstasy of joy can certainly exhilarate someone into altering his or her life into a surreal state.”

“Pain?” He said with a raised finger, like he was onto something. “There’s a good one. With enough pain a person’s very core will shatter, leaving only memories of what they used to be.”

“Love?” His eyebrows arch up. His expression is laced with sincere curiosity. “Certainly love is powerful, it gives us faith and hope in a deserted soul. It teaches us to be strong while forcing us to accept that we are vulnerable.”

“Sorrow?” He sort of waggled his hands a little bit like he wasn’t to sure, but would follow the thought to fruition. “Sure, I suppose. Enough grief can cause someone to cave in upon themselves perhaps seeking to fill that void in a manner they would not have otherwise done.”

“How many is that? Five?” His eyes expanded in a condescending manner like he was speaking to a child. “Well, you’re a smart guy. Would you like to here mine? I have one that I think beats them all, no offense they’re all good. It’s just I think you forgot one.”

“Wrap your noodle around this.” He sounded quite pleased to be expressing his thought.

“What does it take to change the nature of a man?” he repeated.

“Well, how about this.” He paused, probably for effect. Warren had a drama streak a mile long. “Regret.”

“Think about it, the man has to desire to want to change, without that single desire no other factor matters.” He was in the zone now, there would be no shutting him up now. His mind spun in a torrent of thoughts. He was figuring it out, whatever “it” may be. “If I spend my time with regrets over yesterday, and worries over what might happen tomorrow, I have no today in which to live.”

“Throughout our lives we always look to others, we blame them for the way the world is yet none of us choose to make a change. To change the very core of who you are you have to first accept what you are. Me? Well, I’m a monster. This I know, and accept. But I know, that somewhere inside of me is a human being.”

“No more blame.” He spoke defiantly, in case any lingering ghosts were listening. “I am responsible for all I do. All I have done, and will do.”

“I will think.” Warren exhaled trying to calm himself a bit. “Rational thought forges a rational mind. I may choose to walk the wrong path at times, but I will accept that, because I am responsible for all I do.”

“I will change. I can be anything and do anything I choose. I will find my place in the world. By keeping my thoughts in check with rational thinking I will take control of my fate while staying responsible for all I do.”

“Simple enough huh? I think so.”

He walked on. Hands in his pockets, he backed through his mind a bit and pieced it all together. It was as if all the answers there the whole time, he just needed to know where to look. He kneeled down and scratched the stray dog, an akita, on the back of the head. Producing a dog biscuit from his duster pocket he let the little puppy devour it up.

He couldn’t help but smile, for once in a long time the smile was genuine. A weight was lifted from him, and he felt for the first time, sure of himself. More in control of his own fate and confident of what he could do to change himself.

“I am a monster, but in this age where the weather, matter, life, and even time itself are altered to suit our desires, the type of monster I become is entirely up to me.”

“That’s what I think.”

And on he walked; with his little beggar akita in tow. Amazed at what the night looked like when no longer seeing it from the shadows.