A pent up ball of grimacing anger, Monster is quick to snap, though even quicker to regret his actions. As a child, he was often bullied and harassed for hurting those around him and always making an ‘excuse’, though they didn’t know of his true, underlying issue.

Due to this, the boy became reserved, cold, he isolated himself so he couldn’t hurt anyone else, and though it hurt in the beginning, he eventually became… numb to it, which has since seriously stunted his social growth due to such… trauma.

Unable to understand social cues or feel true empathy, Monster suffers from severe abandonment issues, though he has no idea. The boy is prone to violent and/or aggressive outbursts when left/abandoned, even if it isn’t long term. His self-esteem has plummeted drastically, and he believes it its his fault for being left.

Over time, the neglect and stress he felt had formed into something that felt like hell for the boy. Shouting, yelling, telling him it was his fault. Watching him while he slept. At first he thought it was just nightmares, but… It became real life, and Monster found himself becoming more angry… and aggressive… and it all fed into them.

An endless cycle he couldn’t break.

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Born to his dam, Lagið Stríðsmaðurdóttir, and his sire, Björn Konungursonur, Skrímslið had no littermates, though he was raised alongside cousins, nieces and nephews. The boy was part of a large, family-oriented village, afterall.

His father had terrible anger issues, which rubbed of on the poor boy; quick to snap, his family members were always determined to be more ‘dominant’ then him, as he was the youngest at the time. His cousins would always ‘spar’ with him, but Skrímslið thought it was just that; sparring. He had never realised how badly they were hurting him. Bullying him.

It took one wrong move, one accident, and he was deemed ‘the violent one’. Skrímslið was devastated. He felt horrible, so, the only way he believed he could fix it was to get away from people, so he couldn’t hurt them again.

The isolation ruined him. He never saw his parents, unless they came to give him food. He was alone, and yet, everyone thought it was for the better. They all told him it would be better, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone. But… it was like his dreams — or really, his nightmares — began to seep in to his world. Skrímslið only got worse, breaking out of his little ‘cave’ to ‘fight back’.

It was like he was seeing in red.

And it was so blinding…

tbd