Nouveau Maldoror

While strolling through a crowd of baboons, my mind races. Ideas, words, mental fire erupt within the confines of my cranium. Blink, and you shall miss the spark of hate that reveals itself in the corner of my eye. I watch you all attentively. Each small, awkward slip up on your part feeds my soul. I do not walk alone. I am accompanied in my stride by Maldoror. The two of us, the two silent fiends, hand in hand at all times, stop to survey our prey. I turn my head to my beloved, roguish creature, and, with a sly grin, comprehend all his deliciously perverse thoughts. No, we shall not randomly select a subject upon which to release our debauchery just yet. Today the sky is overcast and we prefer to sit and stare at the parade of folly in front of us.
We go unseen. You mistake our silence for innocence. Maldoror enjoys the invisibility. The privilege of remaining hidden allows him to better express himself. He is not shy, but he caters to me and the trait does come and go within myself. His grip tightens on my hand. So intertwined are we now that I could never break away. He will never release our bond. If ever we part I suggest that world take cover. What stalks you now would only get worse. Maldoror will steal your children, take your lives, all in search of me. Be thankful that my desire is as strong as his hand; it is for your own good.
Restraint is ever present where we are. We are not cold; we long to display our affections. I feel, very clearly, the clawed thumb that massages my palm and yearns to explore more. I am sure he feels the tingle he provokes in return, but we, neither of us, say anything. Instead, we watch. We watch the baboons scuttle and jump and duck and dive through and around us. Eyes forward, backs straight, gazes averting each other yet seeing all. None shall crack into our world. We are the fiends that do the cracking…usually of baboon skulls