The Beetle

[Hina's Simp 96]

I assigned a creative piece; The assignment was that I needed to write 3 different chapters that took inspiration from The Beetle by Richard Marsh, from the Beetle’s perspective. Here are the three chapters I wrote for the assignment:

Beauty in Bareness

I pierce the lips of the world, recognizing the naked beauty that it holds. How natural it must to be, yet the natives restrict it through the garments they wear. I desire to bring out their beauty, not of the individuals. No, not them. Those monsters, how indecent. I must teach them the beauty that they hold naturally, by getting rid of what keeps them out of reach. What restricts them, confines them to their most horrible nature. These creatures, whatever they are, are monsters nonetheless. Though, it is their bareness and most natural way of life that is truly beautiful. These creatures stray from their beauty. Has a whole, their beauty is what brings out their life.

Though they hide behind, under, and within, such disgusting fibers upon fibers…as it is them. It cannot be, nor will I let it become. I will help them to grasp their nudeness, the most refined form of who they are and what they can be. I will free them from their bondage, and I must start with those who enter my sanctum. I must show them the beauty that these creatures have deterred away from, by breaking them from their chains and show what is truly beautiful. Reflect their beauty through me and use that to teach them that they restrict themselves from what would make these creatures…just so beautiful.

The Tongue

The GREAT Paul Lessingham becomes distant, not accepting what I have tried to show him and even go so far to reject my display. It is not good enough and I must advance more, that I can help Paul Lessingham…and maybe he could help me. His piercing eyes grasp me, hold me still and restrain me that I do the same to him, only to have him know how he makes me feel. The Great Paul Lessingham is greater than just by his bareness, for he takes himself in and presents it to the world, yet he still hides behind his garments. He holds himself back from being more than him. His body, most pure, is the most beautiful object in the world, that I must explore it and learn what makes it so beautiful.

It is more than himself, he has caught me and entrapped me that I do not fight back. I want him to know of me as I have learned of him. He forces his glares while not recognizing me. Instead, he rejects me while only pushing for himself more. His words, how he talks to and about himself, make him be something above his bareness. And it restrains me, that I do not know of why or what I must partake in to free him from what holds him away from who he is. I am trapped by the desire to have the Great Paul Lessingham take me in, to communicate with me and have him feel as he makes me feel. There lacks his desire to learn of me, while he rejects what he thinks I am. To hear his words, to hear his tongue, while not being able to have him hear mine. Beyond our voice, his body strikes me. I know his tongue…I must make him know mine.

The Dance

I can change to meet their needs and they still only push me away. Their world is filled with people who hide within their presence, the disaster of what they wear. Only do they see the beauty when they see me, but that beauty is beyond what is understood. So, they reject me, call me a monster. Call me something that I dare do not believe. But if they call me a monster and reject my ways; the ways which bring out the most refined sense of beauty, the most natural form of life. It is only now that I am left to travel, forced out of the world that I tried to make better. Away from the world which I have learned to love, tried to make better, to make perfect. The “Beetle” has become my name, a name of the beasts that are so insignificant that they do not care for or recognize. Fitting, for the monster they see me as, even though it is their beauty that they hide from.

Their skin, the lovely bareness that is hidden behind clothes. It was mine to touch, hold, observe, and come to love. But it was also those creatures, the voice within the skin that kept me away from what I saw to be perfect. Their perfect nakedness on display for me, in front of me, while I reflect the beauty back to them. Yet, it is not what they desire, and they do not desire me either. I may be a bug, a monster, to them, but they were the most beautiful to me. And it wasn’t meant to be when they cast me out. They cast me away, so away I must go. I learned to love what they hide. And they did not desire to do the same.