Does a monster feed?

Help!   Help!!   Help!!!

my creation seeks my breath.

My handiwork craves my death.

To create a monster for others,

a monster to you it must be.

A monster in lines I birthed,

a thunderous accolade I had.

Accolades I claimed through my pen name.

Monsters I created starved,

looming about the space looking for their potter

but none they found 

cos in disguise I gave them existence.

For cheers, I gave them breath 

to raise adrenaline in humans.

Unto the paper through the vulva of my biro 

they emanate tinting the manuscript blue.

Help Help Help

They have demystified my mystery, my shield.

Knowledge of me they know

Their hatred for me has grown

Why create us if you can't feed us,

they yell.

Help me help me

My handiwork is starved

Tales of a starved dog and the owner might be recreated.

Help me lest these beings feast on me.

They come in dreams and reality

Waging their tails and shaking their horns.

Opening their mouths, unveiling their blades. 

Those I mercilessly let my character be sliced with.

Ah! Fiction is set to recreate as reality.

Fully, I'm sentenced to have a taste of my casualties.

One that existed first in my imagination.

Help me 

lest one pen drips red!