The Beast
A coworker/writing friend keeps telling me about how much he enjoys my slightly darker stories, especially the ones that have more horror/gruesome aspects to it. I’ve been feeling a bit writing blocked the last few weeks, so I took this as an opportunity to challenge myself and write something along those lines for him. It’s a much shorter story, but I think it definitely checks that “gruesome” box (I had a bit of a visceral reaction to one specific part as I was writing it). While I don’t typically read or watch stories with horror and gore elements, I will admit there’s something fun about writing both… I’m not sure if that says anything about me, but regardless, I hope you enjoy this one!
Claire sits on the ground, her breathing heavy as she slowly attempts to regain her thoughts. The stone behind her back chills her through her thin shirt, and the sweat that lines her brow and soaks down her chest sends a painful shiver through her entire body.
Everything hurts. Every bone and muscle in her body fights against every small movement she attempts to make, and her chest screams in protest whenever she takes a deep breath. Her left arm is definitely broken, she thinks to herself, along with at least three or four ribs. She’s pretty sure her right ankle is only fractured, though the bone slightly protruding out of her kneecap tells her that might be the least of her worries when it comes to walking.
There’s a metallic tang in the air, suffocating Claire’s senses with each breath she takes. Her eyes dart around the room in an attempt to land her gaze on anything else, but it’s no use. Blood streaks against almost every inch of the walls around her, stains the carpet beneath her, and embeds itself in what little furnishing she had been allowed in her small prison.
Directly at her feet lies what remains of the guard who so bravely tried to come in and tame (or stop) the beast. While Claire has no memory of the events that had taken place moments before, she feels remorse for what must have been an absolutely horrific way to die.
The guard's head is gone, leaving a gaping hole in the neck where it had once been attached. Blood still slowly oozes from the deep wound, the substance thick and the deepest shade of red Claire has ever seen. Large gashes mark where the guard's chest and stomach had once been, pieces of his intestines and other vital organs spilling all around him. What Claire could only guess to be his stomach is torn to shreds at his side, a putrid-looking yellow substance staining the ground around it, along with chunks of what may have been the guard’s final meal. Chicken, perhaps? And some kind of green vegetable? Claire grimaces at her train of thought, because yes, speculating the contents of the guard’s meal is her top priority at this very moment.
It’s clear to Claire, though, that the guard had put up quite the fight. It’s nothing new for her to have some broken bones and for her to be crawling toward death's door every time she transforms back, but the dagger currently embedded in her thigh is definitely new. She’s not sure if anyone has ever been able to bring harm to the beast, let alone stab it. A dagger in the leg, of course, is nothing more than pinprick (an annoyance really) compared to the size of the beast.
To Claire, though? It’s another fucking painful reminder that she once again lost control, and now has to deal with the consequences. Even if she could get the knife out of her leg at this very moment, it wouldn’t solve any of her problems. Walking out of here was never going to be an option anyway. And while death at this very moment sounds tempting, she knows the beast would never allow such a release.
Instead, Claire is forced to sit there, her breathing ragged and her vision blurry as she fights through the pain ransacking her entire being. It’s been years since the first time she ever transitioned, but the pain from the aftermath never gets easier. Her frail body is no match for the contortions her limbs and spine have to go through to form the large creature that demands to come out every month.
Eventually, after a few hours have passed, she finally begins to feel her body slowly healing itself. It’s a weird sensation, and she can’t say she necessarily enjoys the feeling of her bones moving back into place. She grimaces as she watches the bone in her knee slowly slide back underneath her skin, a feeling she can only equate to that of a blunt, metal rod being forcibly shoved through several layers of cartilage and muscle. Though gruesome and unsettling, relief almost immediately follows as she watches the skin around the wound seamlessly stitches itself back together.
Her ankles snap back into place just as the pain in her ribcage dissipates, signaling they are no longer cracked and broken. To her horror, the dagger still sticking out of her thigh suddenly goes shooting upwards, her body dramatically rejecting the blade as it makes its last final healing touches.
Claire gives it a few moments before she slowly rises from the ground. Through her pain, she hadn’t realized she was still holding onto what must have been the guard's heart in her right palm, and she drops it with a squeal. It lands on the ground with a small splat, and it flattens against the ground. Much of the heart is gone, having been part of the beast's feast, but it clearly hadn’t enjoyed it as much as other… parts… of the guard.
The absolute destruction surrounding Claire reminds her as to why she agreed to be locked away in the first place, though it’s becoming evidently clear that the beast will never accept being locked away in a cage. She begins to wonder just how many prisons it will take, and how many towns she will have to visit before one can get it right and keep her from being able to harm anyone else.
With a small sigh of defeat, Claire walks towards the prison’s exit, pondering where she might head to next. Her feet, though, catch on something that sends her stumbling forward slightly. She looks down and gives the half eaten head laying there a disgusted look, the face of the guard almost completely unrecognizable. Perhaps if the next town can’t hold her like the last twenty-nine, maybe at least the guards will not be so hasty in thinking they can be the one that takes the beast down. It surely hasn’t worked out for anyone else so far, and Claire would really like to stop being responsible for so much bloodshed.
As always, she ponders the idea of letting the beast have full control, but she knows there will never be a part of her that will be okay with taking the lives of so many innocent people. Foolishly, she allows herself to continue holding onto hope that one day she can be rid of the monster that burrows deep inside her soul. It’s the only thought that helps get through each month, however, deep down she knows that the moment the full moon caresses the sky, there will never be stopping the monster from getting what it wants.
