The Monster of Elendhaven

by Jennifer Giesbrecht

He got the name when he was three feet and four inches tall, kneeling on the dock with a coin in his palm, from a sailor who stank of rum and fish oil.

Power was sweeter than apples. It was cheaper than water, and sustained the soul twice as well.

Johann learned what sort of creature he was by accident.

Elendhaven was a good city for stalking, with its black factories and blade-thin alleyways.

Monster, Monster, Monster, Johann said to himself, the first half a kiss, the second a hiss.