into the dark woods.
“Awww.” The Beast said in an almost orgasmic manner.
“So it begins, it is fitting that it is your bitch first.”
The Beast burst forth from the enclosed space, ripping the door off as it went with little regard for the metal that held it on.
The strength needed to absently rip the door from its hinges was astounding. The Beast easily followed the fleeing prey into the woods. Her path was as obvious as if she had lighted the way. The Beasts senses were so attuned to the hunt. Her scent came in an almost colored haze that hung in the air where she had went, slowly being swayed as the wind tugged at her trail.
The sound of her frantic breathing as panic made her gasp for air in fits came to the Beast’s sensitive ears. The noise her clumsy movements created targeted her. The Beast easily closed the distance and its sharp preternatural eyes found its prey as she chanced a look back.
Panic and fear marred her features, turning her beauty into ugliness as the terror took hold.
A wordless scream tried to come forth as she watched the Beast close the distance between them.
The horror of what came was too much for her as her composure broke and she froze, screaming a soundless shriek that would never be heard.
The Beast leapt for her and brought her to the ground, it lunged out and found her beautiful exposed throat and bite down with unimaginable strength and ripped her head from her shoulders in a gory, bloody mess. The Beast fed.
Blood.
Eat.
Feed.
Hunt.
Yes.
Abject horror washed over me as I broke down. The trauma of the events hit me and I lost track of time.
I could feel the Beast feeding and the waves of its emotions flowed over me. I was unable to stop them. They were repulsive and at the same time inviting.
The primal needs and urges tugged at me in a way that I never thought possible. The fact that I was even remotely intrigued by them made me even more sick and I sat in shock.
I closed my eyes and thankfully the scene before me was shut off. I could still hear the Beast feed and I could smell what it smelled but I was saved from what it saw.
I was deep in shock and full of anguish as the Beast stood up and turned its head to the sky, it howled at the full moon and the ritual was complete. The Beast slowly turned from the corpse and stalked off in hunt of more prey.
Despair threatened to drag me down. Sara’s face burned into my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her dreams, her aspirations. All gone. All taken by a Beast from hell. I could do nothing.
I had no power over this thing. I had nothing to fight it with.
The subtle comforting sensation that I wasn’t alone came back. It was stronger this time. It was still elusive and fleeting, but it gave me a spark of hope. I don’t know why, but the idea that I might not be by myself in this prison comforted me.
“It’s okay, he cannot hear you here.” I heard a familiar, yet at the same time unknown, voice say.
I turned in a circle, looking for the owner of the voice.
“Who’s there?” I said, tentatively.
“A friend. Someone who can help.” He said.
“How? What can you do?” I asked.
“When you are ready, I can help. The choice will be yours. Do not despair. There is always hope, as long as you stay true to yourself there will be hope.”
“The Beast comes, I have to go.” He said.
“No! Wait!” I pleaded.
The feeling of another faded but never left. It became a small thing but I could feel it out there like the gentle hand of a parent as they run alongside their child who is learning to ride a bicycle for the first time.
I felt the ominous presence of the Beast as it came near, its closeness stifling in its power.
“Still hiding? I have to say, I’m impressed.” It growled. “Your woman was sweet. Not much of a hunt, but still, so few really are.”
I couldn’t contain the anger that rose in me.
“You bastard!” I screamed.
“So, it has a voice. Good, I thought you would stay
David Rohde, Kristen Mulvihill