Where have all the monsters gone? Once upon a time, the things that went bump in the night were truly terrifying. They possessed claws and teeth and magic, all the better to rip careless humans to shreds. The monsters of old were predators, unburdened by human emotions, free to delight in the chaos they created with nary a hint of guilt. These creatures of the night were out to get us, and in most cases, they suceeded.

Nowadays it seems that our vampires are defanged, our werewolves are declawed, and our zombies are simply some disease that can be cured. The nature of the beast has been diluted and made impotent, and the result is vegetarian vampires, reluctant werewolves, and zombies with a conscience. What was once the exception to the rule, monsters with souls, has now become commonplace in storytelling, and much of the seductive nature of the dark and dangerous has been lost.

I'd even go so far as to say that in many stories, humanity has been elevated to the status of scariest monster of all.

This trend does not sit well with me. I like my supernatural beasties to have bite, literally and figuratively. I want them to make me tremble at the sound of the wind rattling the windows. I want to wonder if the rustling in the dark is a rodent scurrying in the grass or a monster about to rush me. I want my monsters to realize their true nature and revel in it, and if I am not smart or fast enough to escape, I want them to rip me to shreds and not apolgize for it afterwards.

I want the true monsters back.