There are some pretty interesting monsters out there. Well,
not
really "out there," I guess, since if "monsters"
existed, we'd probably just call most of them "animals."
But unique and interesting monsters add flavor to the
world's various mythologies and folk tales. Conversely, there are also some
very mundane monsters. Wikipedia's exhaustive list of every mythological
creature is simply inundated with "forest spirits." You could conceivably make an incredibly dangerous drinking game out of it.
But I'd personally say the least creative sub-category
of monster is "Undead," which... well, I mean, just open up an old
D&D Monster Manual and look at the undead. Wights, ghouls, zombies, ghasts, skeletons, liches... most
of these things are some kind of variation on "Dead guy who doesn't act
dead. May or may not still have flesh attached."
If I had to pick the least interesting monster, I would
bestow that dishonor upon the humble ghost. (And if I had to pick the least
interesting ghost, it'd be Casper, but that's neither here nor there.)
Throughout the history of storytelling, ghosts have been
done to death, if you'll pardon the intentional pun. This is why many ghosts in
modern tales have something to them that makes them more interesting than
simply being a ghost. M. Night Shyamalan's first major twist ending was the
realization that the main character was a ghost the whole time, R.L. Stine
brought us a headless ghost, and J.K. Rowling topped that strangeness with a
nearly-headless ghost.
Today, I'm delving into R.L. Stine's gimmick-free ghost
story.
No barking ghosts, no headless ghosts, no ghost camps, no
twist where the protagonist was a ghost the whole time, nothing. Just ghosts.
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And a beach. |