Monsters, beings that while typically described as being large, ugly, and frightening, have no defining trait attributed to them. Elephants have their tusk, trunk, and big ears defining what makes them the beings they are. Alligators have their reptilian scales and where they’re usually located in that defines them, as well their jawline and snout being what makes them different from crocodiles.

It goes back to the most generic grouping of animals, where everyone can tell or have a reference to decipher what a fish, mammal, reptile, or amphibian is.

Even creatures the mortal plane finds as imaginary such as cyclopes, manticores, and unicorns have their species-defining traits everyone recognizes.

Yet none such features exist for monsters.

Everything one could say defines a monster is extremely subjective, a preferential take on how they view a being that has no definitive form.

But throughout all iterations of monsters that exist in people’s minds, there’s one common denominator that connects them all in the minds of people; Fear. The mind-curdling emotion that is fear drives humanity’s view of what a monster is. Being sparked from a creature’s appearance to their origin, or what they’ve done and are capable of. Regardless of how fear could erupt in a person, it’s a piercing instinct they’ll instantly recognize when faced with it no matter what form it takes, which is why anything can be determined to be a monster.

“Hey!”

The loud silvery voice snatched Kokoro’s attention, who found himself staring down at a steamy bowl of tantanmen ramen. 

“You ok over there?”

Confused that he was looking down at a delectable meal, the pale-faced soul remembered hearing someone call out to him and turned toward where the voice came from. There, sitting next to him at the table counter, he found the ruby-haired woman who had been kindly dragging him around purgatory; Seodra. 

“Oh good you’re alive… well sorta,” she said, tilting her head at him, “Although we’re both already dead you were extra looking like a corpse just sitting there.” 

Seeing the woman with her own bowl of noodles cured Kokoro of his amnesia and he remembered where he was and what he was doing here.

He was enjoying a meal at a noodle shop Seodra recommended.

“Must’ve zoned out again,” Kokoro concluded, steadying his mind. He looked slightly irritated setting his attention back on his company, telling her, “You know, I can do without the constant jabs at my appearance.”

“Then stop looking like such a ghoul,” taunted Seodra, chuckling that the first time she has seen him show an expressive display of emotion was him looking grumpier than usual, “Geez, I can’t help making the comparison when you’re sitting still staring into space like that, you look as if you have no soul; and we’re literal souls right now.”

“I get it, I look horrible but it can’t be that bad from all the carnival appearances here. Come on, there gotta be some worse-looking people than me here.”

“You’re right but usually those aren’t the kind of people who starts off in purgatory.” 

“Eh?”

“Oh, you better eat your noodles while they’re still hot,” Seodra told him, picking up her fork to enjoy her bowl of japchae. Jabbing a thumb toward the direction of the counter, the ruby-haired woman told him, “The chef here doesn’t like it when you let his food get cold.”

Looking over the counter, Kokoro saw the well-fit form of a blue-haired chef standing tall in his kitchen glaring down at him. The store owner spoke in an exuberant voice like he was in an action character, with such vigorous movement he states, “Food is one of the key essences of human existence equal to breathing, not only does it nourish the human body but also the soul. It’ll be a disservice to the dish to not eat it right and what’s a better way of doing it than enjoying the meal when it’s at its best! So eat up while it’s still hot and fresh!”

Picking up the chopsticks provided to him, Kokoro groggily replied, “Please stop yelling I’ll eat, see?”

He glanced up for a second to see the store-owning chef was still intensely staring at him, obviously waiting for him to have a taste. After slurping some noodles, enjoying the tang of flavor, Kokoro looked up at the store owner hoping it’ll be enough validation for him to be left alone. Though he didn’t facially express anything, his attempt was successful as the chef smiled at him before turning around to continue his work.

As Kokoro let out a relieved sigh, Seodra discretely asked him, “If it’s not to your liking, you don’t have to pretend. Zhi here can take the criticism and likes tailoring food to people’s preferences.”

“Oh no this is fine,” Kokoro told her, taking a second look at his bowl, “Well…maybe a bit more of a sweet tang than sour but it’s actually really good. How did you find this place?”

“Same as most other places, usually I go by recommendations but I liked this place’s emblem and decided to try it out. Risk well worth it since I keep coming back!” Seodra states, giving Zhi a gesture of appreciation for his craft. She then took one of the menus off to the side and slid it over to Kokoro for him to look at the noodle-based emblem for the store.

“You went to a restaurant just because it had a pretty picture, isn’t that a bit childish?”

Seodra simply giggled at his comment, “That’s how people prefer to identify themself here. It works better to entice customers.”

“Eh? Now that you mention it, when we went to the market place almost none of the stores we passed by had any names on their signs,” Kokoro said, looking down at the menu again. On a second look he noticed that while the menu was mostly all stand-out pictures, there seemed to be a few written words next to each picture in a language he couldn’t read but recognized. It was Mandarin, a traditional Chinese language.

“Despite being able to understand what everyone is saying, you still can’t read a language you don’t know.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

“You have no idea but people manage to get by. Most store owners still name their store but rely on stand-out symbols to be recognizable as to not isolate potential customers. While niche stores that focus on a certain culture or time period have their market, there’s no telling where you’ll end up in Purgatory, and hoping your area’s demographic will include enough people that’ll like a certain culture at a specific time period isn’t the smartest move. If you see words or letters from a written language on a store’s emblem then it’s usually flavor text to look unique and to signal the kind of culture style they mainly cook in. It makes it a lot easier to figure out which place will cook in the way you like.”

Taking in this information, Kokoro nodded his head, thinking to himself, “That’s actually interesting, I wonder what else people do here to adapt. Guess it was lucky she took me to the market.”

As the silver-haired ghoul continued to stir his utensils in his bowl, he eyed the lengthy noodles floating in the broth, and his mind wandered back to what happened earlier. It’s been weighing on his mind like a sack of bricks since.

More importantly, it’s what he encountered at the market that won’t leave his mind.

There were many things in Purgatory Kokoro didn’t know, it was like when he first attended university by himself where everything felt familiar but he barely knew how to work through it. Yet without a doubt, seeing the discordant silhouette of the creature through the dust cloud he knew it was a monster; his body reacted to it as such.

That’s why he was frozen while the creature freely moved toward him through the blinding puffs of smoke.

This monster, a being radiating with ill-intention, was reaching out for Kokoro yet the silver youth couldn’t move his body; only staring at the monster’s palm closing in.

Yet, not one gnarly finger of the monster laid itself upon Kokoro’s gloomy hair. Before contact was made, Kokoro heard something cut through the air as a long metallic weapon flew over his shoulder and stabbed the center of the monster’s hand.

The shriek of pain from the monster broke Kokoro out of his unmoving trance, allowing his first reaction to be looking to his side for whoever had come to his aid. All he was able to get was a glimpse of a red blur that leaped forward before there was a chance to identify who it was. Through the dust, Kokoro watched a human figure as it drove its long weapon deeper into the monster’s flesh before mounting the creature and taking it to the floor; disappearing beyond the thicker smoke.

A cacophony exploded beyond the dust cloud from the monster screaming to the rapid stabbing before going silent almost as soon as it started. When the dust cloud had mostly cleared up Kokoro started seeing the crowd’s silhouette as they believed the silence meant it was all over. But Kokoro has yet to see the person who confronted the monster rise from the ground.

“Shikata!?” Seodra’s voice rang out from the approaching crowd.

Kokoro looked behind him about to answer her but then the ghoul-looking soul snapped his head back, sensing movement among the thicker part of the dust cloud. Still being conscious he moved forward, relying completely on his instincts before reaching out into the unknown space. Suddenly his hand felt like it was carried away by the current of a river, moving out and managing to grasp something in blinding smoke.

Feeling it in his hand, Kokoro could tell it was a soft material; like fabric. With his mind focusing solely on what it was he grabbed, he yanked it toward himself to examine it; finding a red cloth with gold markings tucked into his grip.

He might’ve been a bit too concerned about examining it as when he pulled the cloth toward himself, he dragged a whole nother body along with it as well.

Remembering that whatever he grabbed would most likely belong to the person who came to his aid against the monster, he preemptively said, “Sorry I just wanted to–”

His words were cut off when emerging from the dust cloud, his surprise savior revealed themself but he wasn’t met with a friendly face; it was a masked one. Through the mask’s eye holes piercing neon blue glared at him, despite recognizing the mask its appearance looking pretty demonic from the horns sticking out on top and their eyes that looked at him similar to that monster from earlier; he became speechless.

The Masked Stranger seemed perplexed as well, staring back at him before their sharp eyes trailed down to Kokoro’s hand grabbing their red cape. Snatching it away, The Masked Stranger gave one last lingering look at the silver-haired man before jumping away; disappearing from view without a trace.

It was only after the Masked Stranger left that the crowd became fully visible from the dust cloud.

“Shikata, are you ok?” Seodra asked, approaching him as soon as she found him. Thankfully the dust cloud had almost entirely dissipated by now making it extremely easy to see each other.

Kokoro didn’t answer her, he was still staring longingly in the direction he last saw The Masked Stranger. Something felt weird when Kokoro laid his eyes on them and he couldn’t get his mind off it, his mind just seemed uncontrollably drawn to the subject like many of his other obsessions. Once he gets into it, it’s annoyingly hard to pull him out.

“Hey! Mr. Silver Ghoul!”

That did the trick.

Looking more disgruntled than usual, Kokoro told her, “What!?”

“Oh good, you’re alive,” Seodra casually responded, she smiled before asking, “So uhh… you’re hungry right?”

…

“Who was that person?” Kokoro thought to himself, stewing over the issue, “That was obviously a mask on them so they didn’t actually have horns, which means they can’t be another monster. Well, then again all sorts of appearances can happen here. I’m human yet I’ve experienced a dramatic body change, not to mention this freaking chain on my arm. Hmm, if she needs a mask to look that way then she should be fairly regular, I doubt anyone here would put in extra effort in looking abnormal.”

“Hey, you’re zoning out again,” Seodra called out to him.

Kokoro jerked back to full awareness, stating, “Huh? Oh, fuck. Guess I was.”

The Irish woman leaned against her fist on the table, sprouting a soured expression as she mops, “Are you so disinterested in me that your attention can’t help but be constantly fleeting.”

“Ah… no it’s-–”

“I know I’m not the best at being coy for a guy like you or whatever you’re into when you speak to a girl but like damn at least have some consideration for a lady’s heart. Be subtle and let me down easy.”

“Dear lord stop it, you’re fine,” groaned Kokoro, it’s always a headache when his demeanor fuses with his contemplation habits; especially when it happens around a girl. After mindlessly stirring his ramen bowl, he turns to the red-haired Irish woman to explain, “There’s… something I can’t get out of my mind.”

Seeing his expression, Seodra looked saddened, saying, “It’s what happened at the market, right?”

No answer came from Kokoro as he continued poking at his food but it was obvious what the issue was, it was written all over his face. Granted his face already looked distraught but now it went even beyond the normal levels.

Sighing, Seodra gloomily says, “Sorry that happened on your first day, and here I was stupidly hoping some food would help you forget about such an encounter since no one got hurt but it seems that thing made a bigger impression than a bowl of ramen. Wish I could do more to prevent this kind of stuff from happening but unfortunately, this sort of thing is something you need to get used—...”

“What was that monster anyway? Just being in its presence… I haven’t felt that way in years. Why does Purgatory even have creatures that can crash into the middle of a city?”

“DUDE!”

“Huh, what?”

“Couldn’t have waited till after my heartfelt spiel to blank out?”

“Sorry, I promise it’s not completely intentional.”

“Well, I can’t be mad at you for being absent-minded considering what you- Oh for fuck sake!”

“Even in the afterlife, there are still things I have to look out–”

“Can I finish a sentence, please!?” exclaimed Seodra, yelling loud enough to regain Kokoro’s attention.