The Beast And Me

by D. S. Wrights

  He isn’t as muscular as I expected, though I could feel his muscles flex. He is more athletic than packed. But it makes sense, you know. He can’t be heavy moving that fast. And this isn’t even important, because this... embrace... It felt so good. How he pressed my body against his, like he never wanted to let me go. This despair, it matched my own. And right then and there I was willing to go with him wherever he would go after meeting me.

  I brought my lower hand back to the one that was now on my stomach.

  My heart is beating like hell while I am writing this.

  I took his hand and made it move further down, between my legs, where I was burning water. He gasped. But that wasn’t all. His whole body reacted to this. Still, he didn’t attack me, which was admittedly very surprising. Maybe I confused him, my behavior. He surely didn’t expect me to not be scared, to be so needy of him.

  A thought appeared in my mind and I went with it. Slowly I started to move his hand across my most sensitive part, barely being able to breathe normally. And then I moved my head, slowly. I had underestimated how close his face had been to mine, because my cheek touched his just a moment after that. He tensed, making me inhale sharply, because his grip on me did as well. So I closed my eyes. He hadn’t backed off, nor snarled or done anything to make me stop. I knew that there was something about me touching him, about me seeing him, like he wasn’t used to it being okay.

  Cautiously I continued to move my head, while resting my one hand on his forearm between my breasts, and the other moving his hand between my legs. My lips reached his cheek. His skin is softer that I expected. Yes, I already felt it, but apparently my lips are soft enough to not scare him off.

  I didn’t dare turn around, because I thought I was able to keep him with me, because of what I did with our lower hands and – as I realized – with my hips moving against him. Thinking of that, it was amazing that he didn’t lose it like the times before, but it explains his trembling so much more. It was absolute madness of mine: taking my hand from his forearm to bring it to his face. He didn’t freak, just tensed up again.

  I don’t know what I was thinking.

  This isn’t me.

  However, I quickly brought his hands into my pants, feeling his fingers directly on my moist flesh was... well, if I already wasn’t insane till then, I was now. Because he pressed his fingers into me, making me sigh highly, pushing his face towards mine and our lips met.

  Despite sensing the fangs, his fangs, I was out of it; I was the one losing it, my sanity. I kissed him. I freaking kissed a monster, a creature, a beast. However, I kept my eyes closed, I didn’t think of opening them. I didn’t think at all, because he kissed me back.

  His face is human and not. It is a weird mixture, something warped, and yes: that is what he is. It explains so much: being a hybrid.

  Something changed in him as I did this and not only in him, but him, as in his exterior. I think it felt like those fangs had faded a bit. How crazy is that?

  I could hear myself whisper against his mouth, pleading: “Please. I need this. I need you to...”

  It’s not like he needed more encouragement than me doing all this and me pulling my pants down. I think, I was just too wet that it didn’t hurt when he entered me right there, where I was standing. My knees gave in and we both knelt on the ground. I did all I could to meet him, when he fucked me hard, even though strangely gentle. I couldn’t hold back long and neither did he.

  It was wonderful. So close.

  Before we could do anything else they made him leave me again.

  I swear, I think if he had a chance he would have cuddled me. And I definitely would have cuddled him back.

  I couldn’t look at Peter. I don’t know why that bothered me. I don’t know why I’m even writing it down.

  Day 40

  There is a reasonable explanation for this. You know, I’ll skip the schedule thing. It’s the same, every day. Either they take me to a second workout or to him. It seems like a 50/50 chance or 60/40. I’ll figure it out someday, right?

  So, there is a reasonable explanation for me missing him. Not Peter. Jeez, I realized two days ago that he’s standing in front of my door. No, him, my beast. Why am I even confusing them? Or thinking of the both of them?

  I don’t even get the chance to ask him for his name. They just tell him to leave before I regain the ability to speak. I am sure that he could answer, if they would just give us enough time. Then again, they keep watching us. I wish there was a chance to see him without White perving.

  Really, I don’t miss him just for... you know... doing it – I swear I was never such a person. It’s not like I was a virgin when I came here, but that... well... it was never that great for me, just part of... you just do it, right? And it’s not just because with him it’s... literally mind blowing.

  I want to get to know him. I want to understand him, and everything else: how he came here, how he became what he is. I just can’t make myself believe that this is his normal state. I think that something happened to him, or even that White made him what he is now. There is just... too much human about him.

  Yes, I know what you might think: it’s just because you want a reasonable explanation for you wanting to have sex with him. Caring is a good reason. Although you’re secretly just after the one thing. But that’s not it. I mean it. I really do. I wouldn’t want it if it was just that. It’s really not just that. And I don’t want to only justify my thoughts and feelings. How can I explain this... instinct?

  He’s careful, tender even when he manages to control himself. And that’s the difference. Yes, I know animals can be like that too, but he feels human. I just know that he is human. I’m not imagining this because I want him to be.

  It’s late now and nothing happened.

  This shouldn’t be a surprise, since it has never been two days in a row, so I shouldn’t have – yes – hoped. I wonder how he’s sleeping. Like... if he has a bed like mine, a room like this one, or a cell like I had the first days, or if they hold and treat him like an animal. I want to know... So many things. I have to find a way to get to know more about him.

  Day 41

  Today, there’s a higher chance that I see him again. I barely slept and I’m already awake, although the day lights aren’t on yet. You know... the lights on the ceiling that switch on automatically to wake me up. It’s not like I have a choice... If it weren’t for the flashlight they have given me, which I’m using right now to write this.

  My thoughts have run round and round in my head. Hopefully I’ll get some sleep after Lunch, so that I am fit to meet him. They won’t blindfold me again, I think, so I’ll try to memorize everything on my way and find out how to get a chance of sneaking out of my room... if there is any. Maybe they will either trust me enough one day, or I have to... I don’t know.

  Peter can’t stand in front of my room all the time. I’m sure he doesn’t. Maybe they have cameras in my room? I have to check. I will after Breakfast, I guess, even though I don’t know what exactly to look for.

  Something changed today. They didn’t slide my Breakfast through the door. It has a lid, you know.

  Peter brought it to me and he wished me a good morning. I don’t know how to take this. Have they realized that I too need social interaction? Have they noticed that they are turning me insane?

  Too late, I don’t want this. I don’t trust them and he’s one of them; so I don’t trust him, even though he’s nice and friendly and asked me if I needed anything else. I told him that I would like to have a doorknob. He laughed. It was a sweet laughter; more like a chuckle and he made me smile with it. I hate it.

  The worst thing was: he smiled at me and said that he’ll see what he can do. He must be joking. Bad joke. Or he must be flirting. Bad move. Haven’t you got the briefing, Peter, I’m taken...

  God, what am I even writing?

  Why does this annoy me so much?

  I can’t wait to see him today. I need to see him.


  I couldn’t find any cameras, but it’s not like I’m an expert. Still, I don’t trust my room, or trust Peter. Luckily, there are no fake windows. There was nothing behind my mirror. I can’t reach the lights in the ceiling. The cameras will definitely be in there. What if they’ve got infrared or night vision? I know I sound paranoid but they are freaking watching me getting done by some human-animal cross-species; they’ll damn sure watch me sleeping as well. Which means: they know that Peter was in here, smiling at me... I’m going crazy... I know he’s an implant. There is no other explanation. I cannot trust him

  Workout – luckily – workout.

  I’m so worn out, so tired. I think I’ll take my nap before Lunch. Like right now.

  Peter scared the hell out of me.

  Why does he actually need to touch me to wake me up? No one does that. I don’t believe him that I didn’t react to his voice. He brought me Lunch. And he wanted to touch me. He could’ve made some noise. I cannot trust him to be just a normal and friendly person.

  “Are you my servant now, or what?” I spilled at him and made him chuckle – again, despite me wanting to be rude, despite me wanting to BLUSH.

  Why the hell does he chuckle?

  I need to calm down or I will puke. And I need to focus. They will take me today. I’m pretty sure they will. I have to focus on that. I don’t... no... strangely, it’s not the sex I look forward to, it’s really him. I just want to touch him, in fact, and have him close, holding me. He’s the only one actually giving me warmth, like he’s the only one really caring. Peter doesn’t, it’s his job, and I’m pretty sure they have told him to be nice.

  Maybe he thinks I’m cute, ha-ha. No.

  Dinner. I can barely swallow. I’m not even hungry.

  Yes, Peter brought it again and I asked him why.

  “Because it’s polite and at least someone has to treat you like a human”, he answered smiling lightly.

  I think he really meant what he said. Well, thanks.

  Still, I doubt that it’s not White being behind this.

  They didn’t take me. I didn’t do anything wrong, right? They would have told me. White would have come with his smug smirk and disabuse me, right?

  But I forgot. I’m the reward, right? What if he did something wrong and doesn’t get to see me because of it?

  I mean, that would be an explanation why I get to see Peter but he – my Beast – doesn’t get to see me.

  What if he suffers even more than me?

  I feel so bad, so bad for him.

  I almost knocked to ask Peter if my beast was okay.

  I can’t do that. I can’t show them how much I need him. And I cannot trust him – Peter – he’s one of them.

  Day 42

  I was impolite, so this time when Peter brought me my Breakfast, I said “thank you”. Fate rewarded me with realizing that he doesn’t close the door when he enters.

  First, I thought that was because he might be guarding my door alone, and that no one would be there to answer his knocking. And I told myself that I shouldn’t have a bad conscience because of thinking that, right?

  Until I realized that he has a wristband which he can scan against the display next to the switch. Still, I wonder why he keeps the door open.

  The only explanation I came up with was for the same reason my Mom always wanted me to keep the door open when I had male visits: so that she felt sure nothing inside my room happened.

  It’s a strange thought. Maybe he wants me to feel safe?

  It’s him and another guy who brings me to the gym and back to my room. His partner is older and always has this moody expression on his face, like he either is chewing a lemon or hasn’t slept well. He doesn’t look at me, or talk to me and Peter doesn’t as well when that man is with him.

  I’ll call him Gray, because his hair is getting gray.

  Peter asked me again if I needed anything when bringing me Lunch, again the door staying open, and I had the feeling that Gray was waiting outside, but to be sure I would have to look and that would have appeared to be odd and definitely suspicious. They surely do not want me to act suspiciously.

  “Are you even allowed to talk to me?” I responded instead and he chuckled – this damned chuckle.

  “Yes, I am, I was even told to, so that you’d like me”, he answered surprisingly honest and of course I couldn’t hold back my expression of rising one eyebrow and dropping my mouth open.

  I didn’t anticipate that he would admit it and he seemingly didn’t expect his own reaction, because he quickly dropped his glance.

  “Who, White?” I asked and naturally confused him, because obviously ‘White’ was a name that I had chosen. “The scientist”, I tried to explain, “the guy who seems to be in charge here and comes to talk to me now and then.”

  “Oh, yeah” – again this freaking sweet chuckle. “Yes. It was him, and you’re right about him”, he responded, and I noticed with another crooked brow that Peter avoided naming him. “However, he thought you would deserve at least one normal person around you from time to time. Someone, who isn’t him, because you obviously don’t trust the guy, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  These words were so cryptic, but I didn’t waste time trying to give them any sense: “I don’t trust you either.”

  “Ouch”, he smiled radiantly and I could feel it in my stomach. “Well, I can understand that, but it still hurts.”

  Yes, you are so funny, Peter, and you are far too nice and too likable. Do they believe I’m that naïve?

  “So what about my door knob?” I changed the topic and made him laugh again.

  Honestly, I’m not sure if I asked him that just to get that reaction. It’s not like I am used to someone regarding me as funny or charming. This makes me seesaw between doubting myself and doubting them including Peter.

  Can it be that I really am like this and that I never realized before because I never had the self-assurance to talk like this? And now I only am this way because, hell, I don’t have anything to lose. Yet, I still doubt, I still think that they told him to be as sweet and likable as possible.

  I’m paranoid, but can one blame me, really?

  “Well, can’t happen”, he said what I already knew in a way like he had really asked, and I still wondered if he had, or not, because he continued: “At least not now. Maybe when you’re with us a bit longer? That’s what he said: ‘White’.” He quoted me and chuckled again. “You should eat. Would be a pity if it gets cold”, he pointed at the dish and turned around, ready to leave.

  “I just... I just need some fresh air. A little outside, you know. A different surrounding”, I told him, even though I knew that it wouldn’t happen, maybe, because I knew that he would stop and turn around again.

  “You’re not the only one”, he looked at me smiling slightly and his brown eyes were somehow sad.

  Peter has brown eyes and almost black hair, which is the only reason why his eyes don’t look black as well. And he’s quite tall: six-something, maybe an inch or two? I’m not good at telling heights. I’d say that my Beast is taller though, just a little bit, like six-three, or six-four? Peter is slender, athletic, but not like an elf, if you know what I mean. Why am I even describing him?

  But well, thank you, White, for giving me some company I do not want.

  I should appreciate the distraction, at least it’s a change, and even if he was told to be nice, I can pretend and play along. This means they are investing in me. It’s a good thing, that they are treating me more like a human, right?

  I got to see him, finally.

  On the way there and back again, I memorized everything. There are cameras in the corridors, these little bulbs that can turn 360 degrees. There’s no way sneaking to him, but it’s really not that far.

  Actually, they seem to lead me around one big room, maybe two, although there is a door, maybe a short corridor they could take me through. Maybe they want to make me believe that the way is longer, that th
is complex seems larger than it really is. I have to check if I can get the mesh from the air system off of my bathroom wall. There will definitely be no cameras. And even if this is a stupid idea, it keeps my head occupied. Imagine me crawling through the venting system like a spy...

  Meeting him was such a relief at first. Even though it was not like I had expected. They didn’t ask me to take off my clothes. They didn’t remove the gate. I knew he was there, but he didn’t show himself, but stayed away from the light cones, in the shadows, out of sight. He doesn’t want me to see him. Is he ashamed? Or is he afraid of my reaction. Somehow I think it’s both.

  Still, it was driving me mad rather than making me sad. Why, I cannot really explain. I got to the gate and placed my hands around the bars trying to get a glimpse of him. How I wished at that moment that I could say something without them hearing me. But I knew that would never happen. So I did what they obviously wanted: I begged.

  “Remove it”, I turned my head towards the window, and my tone came out much more demanding than I had originally intended, hopefully my expression was more submissively asking.

  That’s when it happened: It was a snarl, shooting directly towards me and instinctively reacting, even though it was so fast that I barely saw anything, I fell backwards to the ground. There had only been that pair of greenish eyes in the darkness, suddenly in front of me, shocking me. I looked up. And I saw him. Standing right there, just inches from where I had been and on the other side of the gate. He was glaring down at me, like I had betrayed him, with his non-human eyes, a mixture of mint, olive and amber. How did I describe it before? Yes, rusted or rather refurbished copper. I could see him. I’ll never forget those eyes and that look he gave me.

  I don’t know why I wasn’t terrified, but I know why I’m still not terrified.