Throughout the years, humans have been the center of every bit of mythology. They were the ones that created it, and they shape it even today. What they may not have realized is that their writing holds more power than they think. The written word has shaped worlds, brought down people and empires, built up civilizations. What it has also done is created countless creatures of varying origin. Centaur, Gorgons, Harpies... Gods and goddesses... vampires and werewolves. Those things didn't exist until someone wrote about them, gave them form and purpose. The same goes for today. While humans aren't terribly busy writing about ancient dieties or helpful muses, every creature created in fiction breathes its first breath when its creation is complete on paper--or computer. Even darker monsters were brought to life through fiction. Things that lurk in the dark, hunting their prey as depicted in the stories they feature in. Their lives follow their written paths, until they become old enough and possibly develop personalities of their own. But even then they cannot stray too far from their origins. It is unknown whether humans actually know what they are capable of with their imagination. Most creatures don't even really know of their origins. Only the truly ancient ones know, but even then they cannot do much to go against it. So with your imagination, what has your written words brought to life? (( So this is set on Earth, in modern times. You can be whatever you want, whether it be already established, human, or made up by you! If you want to write an origin, go ahead, but it's not necessary. Have fun with it! This'll probably be a 'slice of unordinary life' until.. I, or you, think of something super exciting to happen. :D )) Sylus was a creature born from darkness, pure evil and malicious intent. His purpose was to terrify people traveling in the dark streets of any snowy city, to follow them, and if he caught them, devour them. He did this for so many years after his birth, that he was beginning to question why he was driven to do this. It wasn't until he caught a small family, a young man, his wife, and their three year old daughter, walking to their car from the theater... The look on the little girl's face, pure terror and sadness, confusion... He couldn't bring himself to kill her, even though he'd already ripped her parents to pieces. He fled that town out of his own confusion, finding out he couldn't travel too far. He was a monster, though outward appearances wouldn't really prove it. He was tall, and very thin, and incredibly pale. Although, he looks fairly normal. He has black hair, short but shaggy, and wears normal human clothes, though kept a little baggy. A long trench coat is usually a regular accessory to the ensemble. The only thing that would really set him apart from blending in with humans would be his eyes, with their piercing yellow irises and black sclerae, and his teeth, every one of them pointed and sharp. There was one other thing that would make it hard for a human to simply trust him. It was the reason he wears baggy clothes and a trench coat: there were six dark colored tentacles extending from his back, two at his shoulder blades, two under his ribs, and two just above his hips. He usually tries to keep them hidden. Today, he was walking along an old forest path, probably a game trail. He knew the path well, and wasn't worried about stumbling upon anyone. His hands were tucked safely in the pockets of his trench coat, his tentacles hidden beneath loose shirt and in baggy jeans. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn't snowing, just windy and uncomfortable. The nearest town was a few miles behind him, since this was ever as far as he could be from civilization before things got messy. It was a good place to go relax without worrying about people stumbling upon him and instincts kicking in. He let out a sigh of relief and briefly watched the little cloud of steam rise into the air before disappearing. So relaxing.