The Hippogryph

by Aidan Aboud

Its sullen stare, with its sunken eyes, fell upon dry faces, and clean consciences. Oh, the things it had seen. The things it had done. No wonder the children that stood before it, oh so persistent, made the air reek of bleach. Within their souls not a single sin existed, and nothing he could say changed their perspective on this dull, dun, and dark life of theirs. They thought they were the main characters. Little did they know, millions of people had passed his test, a millennia of wanderers, looking for their utopia. And each one he had let enter into his sacred space, his place of safety and rest. But, when they left, something had changed. No longer could he look upon them and say, these people are clean of heart and mind, beautiful within, and without. Power corrupts, greed and envy lie in the hearts of all mortal creatures, and the disgusting things which he had seen within their souls were reason enough to slay them immediately. His white coat betrayed him, a paladin of justice, and of sorrow. Of life, and of death. The blood that so easily stained his coat, always reminded him of what he represented. The end of all things. 

He realized he had given himself to his thoughts once again, and reassessed the situation. He could see the group of people, just out of sight, scheming to jump him, and remove the obstacle that blocked their path. Fools, he thought, for I am the Hippogryph. I see all. And he stood on his powerful legs, and with blazing speed, tore those poor creatures asunder, the blood spurting from the gashes he had gifted each one, and once more covering his mighty white coat.

“Fools, I am the Hippogryph,

Master of might and myth,

And with the claw I judge the poor,

Who dareso knocketh at my door,

My blood boils with anger to thee,

Those who have so wronged me,

I the master of the worlds,

Who judgeth all, boy or girl,

I the master of might and myth,

I the mighty, Hippogryph.”