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The senses he lacks only give him strength. Only is there power to be found from their loss.
He cannot hear the evil that he fights
--Hear their pitiful screams as they beg for mercy
"What mercy did you show to those innocent!"
He cannot taste the blood of the evil he destroys
--Taste that vileness which courses through their veins
"You aren't worth the flesh--'Tis wasted upon you!"
He cannot smell the fear of these fleeing monsters
--Smell the repulsing stench of the crimes
"You aren't ready to pay for your sin?"
He can't feel the skin he pulls to draw the monster to his eye level
--Feel the skin give way to his powerful grip
"Look at me!" He will not feel for a creature that is less human than he--committing acts against other humans.
He can see everything that he lacks. Their heart beats ripple red shadows. Their screams form rivers of hate. Their fear makes ghostly mists. As he draws them near with his large, red, reptilian grip, the heat of his body forces the fear in their sweat. They hover above the ground by the fist that is drawn from the darkness. As he walks into the light, they see the Gargoyle as he truly is.
"I hate you monsters--having the human faces. While I, the real monster, have the human heart... I put fear back into you monsters of this world."
And the humans of this world never know that they are safe from this seeming beast.
It is the ones that did not feel before the destruction against another that must fear the wrath of the Gargoyle without feeling.
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