Monestary

I stared up at the mountain that towered in front of me. The sky was light blue, and the peak was capped with snow. A small, stone building sat at the top. A thick trail of stone steps meandered up the mountain.

"You're ready to meet the last of the emotions." Good said from my right. He had his hands on his hips, and his eyes were set on the peak.

"Two left." Bad added. "One of mine, and one of Good's. You think you can handle it?"

"I sure would hope so." I answered.

"Alright then." Good turned toward me and smiled. "You know what to do then.

They both motioned towards the beginning of the path and stepped out of the way. I took in a collective sigh, and began to walk towards the trail. Each step was marbled and dark gray. It arced to the right into a forest and out of sight. I turned around at the tree line, and Good and Bad were walking back into the distant town. I turned and kept walking.

I was silent. No ambient noises called through the woods. I heard no birds chirping. The wind didn't run through the trees. The leaves didn't bounce across the steps. It was quiet. The only noises that I could hear were my shoes clacking on each step. I thought I heard noises behind me; fearful that Bad was trying to pull another prank. But every time I looked over my shoulder, nothing stood there but the path.

Halfway up the mountain, the path turned outwards. I stopped, and looked down at the town where Good and Bad lived. The colors flickered in and out, between bright and dark shades of suburbia, to the blinding white of purgatory. I kept walking the path.

*   *   *   *   *

The monastery at the summit had been beaten. The path led up to it, and its front faced away from the town. On the left side of the grand staircase entrance was a stone sculpture of a closed fist. To the right was another sculpture of a hand reaching up towards the sky. The steps leading up the door were battered, as if someone took a hammer to them, creating dings and divots in the marble. It was the same with the entire monastery itself. It didn't look to be weathered; it looked like it had been beaten. I knocked on the door, but it did not open for me like all of the others had. I pushed forward, and it creaked into itself.

Torches hung from the walls, faintly cracking while their lights shimmered on the floor. But it was still dark. The ceiling was coated in cobwebs and the light did not reach that far up, only illuminated by the glassless windows. It was cold. For the first time in this land, I felt temperature. The sky darkened, and thick sheets of snow began to fall outside. The main hall ended at a stone throne, which was also been caked in a thick layer of dust. A doorway to the right had more red and orange light from a fire. But the doorway to the left of the hallway was dark; none of the light was shining into it; the doorway was pitch black.

"Who goes there?" A voice asked quietly from the right doorway. I didn't answer. Footsteps entered into the hallway. A man stood there. He was barefoot, and wore saffron robes with red trim. He was bald, and had no face.

"We have been expecting you." He said without expression. He bowed his head down, but then turned to look at the other doorway. "We are waiting."

A grunt came from the other doorway. It sounded evil. It didn't sound like Would grumbling into the mouth of a vodka bottle. It didn't sound like Good rolling his eyes when I did something questionable. It made me feel dark. Another figure loomed out of the doorway. He was me. Every detail was the same, down to the color threads of my teal shirt.

"I'm not going to wait on this one." He growled, hobbling into the center of the room.

"Good and Bad had to prepare me to meet you both." I declared, turning back to the faceless man.

"We are aware." He replied, his hands folded in front of him. "They did this because they believe us to be the most domineering emotions of themselves."

I turned to the other figure. He stood still while sneering at me.

"I am Monk." The faceless man said, bowing his head. "I am your sense of calm and peace."

I looked again at the other man, and he had shifted his glance to Monk.

"Would you like me to introduce you?" Monk asked him. "Or would you like to do that yourself?"

"I'm pretty sure he's smart enough to figure out who I am." He said as he looked back at me. I shrugged slightly, and he rolled his eyes. "Okay, apparently not."

"This is Anger." Monk declared.

"If you need any further of an explanation," Anger started, "then you really are stupider than you look."

"I don't feel as though I needed to be prepared to face you two." I told them. Monk stood still, but Anger's eyes twitched.

"The one God damn credential I have and you shoot it down for me?" He snarled, turning around and stomping back into his entryway. "I did not come out here for this!"

There was a silence as his footsteps echoed through the building. Monk looked in his direction, breathing slowly and at a steady tempo.

"I thought Anger was supposed to be just that," I told Monk, "anger. Not a prissy little third grader."

Monk turned around and walked slowly back into his entryway. I followed him.

"So why is it, really, that I needed to be prepared?" I asked him.

"Because Good and Bad found it in their best interests that you be prepared when you meet, what they believe, to be the most important parts of themselves."

He led me into another small hallway, where a fire illuminated the room. He sat cross-legged in front of it, and began to burn incense with one hand while he took a tea kettle from the fire with the other.

"You know I kind of feel disappointed." I told him, standing behind him. "All this lead up with all of the others and then I meet you two."

"You have a problem with this?" Monk asked over his shoulder.

"Not in the slightest." I replied. "I was done with this whole meet and greet after I met Hollow."

He poured the tea into a cup, and set it on the ground in front of him.

"Good and Bad are right you know." He said.

"I'm sorry?"

"We do make up the most of you."

"I'm not sure I follow?"

"For the most part, you are a calm and level-headed person. Would you agree?"

"I suppose?"

"But sometimes, the angriest you ever get is when you get a little 'prissy,' to quote you. You don't become furiously angry, you only enter a state in which you need time to cool off to get back to your normal self."

"But I do get furiously angry." I told him.

"Not often." He replied. "Not even rarely. The others do a good enough job of suppressing Anger that he never gets to be that bad."

I sighed, and looked around his quarters. Faded and torn banners hung from the walls. A cot was shoved into the far corner, and a small dining table across from it in the other corner.

"Well," he began, standing up to face me, "I believe that that's it."

"What?" I stuttered.

"I believe that we have learned all that there is to for today."

"But I just got here."

"A short lesson is still considered a lesson."

"Aren't I supposed to come to some impressive self-realization?" I asked him as he started to walk out of his quarters. "Like, aren't I supposed to leave here having learned something about myself? And the way I think?"

"Who says that you didn't?"

"What about Anger? I heard a whole of three sentences out of him."

"These people that you meet are representative of how often their voices can be heard by you." He said. "You won't hear him speak much. But you really do not want him to, do you?"

"I guess not?" I asked.

"Good." The wind picked up and the snow started to blow into the monastery through the windows.

"So now what?" I asked him.

"Now that you know all of the emotions that are available to you; all of the ones that could possibly control you and your will, well, we'll just see what happens."

"You don't even know?"

"One can only assume that great realizations can come to you, now that you know more about the way in which you think, now that it can be construed into a definition that is more specific than the confines of 'good' or 'evil.'"

The light tore through the windows, illuminating the dark building.

"Never ignore the evil voices that whisper in your ear, but praise them for the way in which they make you appreciate the light.