A monster. That's what he was.

He could feel it in his heart and mind, both had long been steeped in darkness. His once analogical mind was now a foreign thing to him, fragmented, enraged, suffering... Lost. Perhaps that was the best way to describe him. Lost.

Lost to humanity. To sanity. To the ones he once called his family and friends- He was nothing more than a danger.

A sleeping beast who when prodded would lash out mindlessly. Although of late he had noticed something about himself was changing. It wasn't the rage or pain he felt, if anything those only escalated. And it wasn't his a-typical appearance (The moss green skin and eerie glowing green eyes. His height and build; seven foot eight with arms and legs covered in muscle's as thick as tree trunks and a torso with thick skin difficult to penetrate.) Nor was it his hair, black with faint green highlights to it.

No he had noticed of late that his mind was working at a pace it hadn't before. His usually choppy speech patterns were smoother. More flowing. He understood words other than 'no' and 'don't' and 'Hulk smash'. He had started to pick up old habits, from before when he had been completely human. Reading, writing poetry, building things that needed a delicate touch...

The last one still frustrated him a bit since his hands were the size of twenty eight pound frozen hams. But he had expected it to frustrate him. That didn't mean that he gave up on his work easily. No did it mean that his work totally functioned.

But at least he was trying.

Still, that wasn't completely it for the current changes he was undergoing. No, it was his mind. It had once been brilliant, analogical, calculating. And in the past few weeks he had felt it start to become so again.

He was contributing more. Working on things that no one else could. Fixing what had once been broken and destroyed. He couldn't help himself, he felt a very strong pull toward broken and destroyed things. Thinking that if he couldn't save them then maybe he couldn't be saved either.

He stood in his room in the Avenger's mansion/HQ and stared out the window with troubled eyes at the city outside. It was bustling with life. People. Animals. Plants, buildings, cars... All of them as fragile as eggshells to him.

What am I doing here? He wondered in apprehension as he watched a school bus full of small children go by. He didn't belong in the city. Even as a part of something bigger then himself, like the Avengers.

He was no hero. Never had been. Never would be.

He knew what he was deep down inside, in his heart of hearts. He was a monster. Every single part of him from his eye lashes to his toes. And if he stayed in the city with the Avengers for much longer he'd become the worst kind of monster there was...

A killer.