To Love A Monster

by Marina Simcoe

“Never have to try too hard, either,” he muttered under his breath, continuing on his way to the kitchen.

  “Hey, what’s your name? Now that you know mine.”

  Without stopping or even glancing my way, he threw over his shoulder, “Monster is fine,” and disappeared in the kitchen area.

  Was he mocking me again? I couldn’t tell whether he was serious, because even when he seemed to speak in earnest, there was often a streak of thinly veiled sarcasm, making me feel like he was laughing at me.

  I fingered the last granola bar I had in my pocket. My stomach growled, and I took the bar out.

  The monster seemed to take seriously his promise to keep me alive until a search party came for me. It seemed I would be back in civilization again soon so there was no need to hoard the bar.

  A sudden noise by the open front door made me jump up in fright. A spike of adrenalin shot through me then settled down again when I saw it was the monster clearing the dead leaves and debris away from the door with a snow shovel.

  “God. You scared me.” I exhaled, clutching my chest with one hand and using the other to pick up my granola bar from where it had fallen on the blanket.

  He shrugged a shoulder, continuing with his work.

  Finishing the bar made my thirst come raging back.

  “Um . . . Monster,” I winced. Was he or was he not truly okay with me calling him that? I would prefer not to continue insulting him further. “Would you happen to have any water anywhere here? Please? I’m really thirsty.”

  He had finished shoveling the dirt away and pushed the massive door closed then opened it again, testing the hinges. The door protested with a loud screeching noise but moved under the power of his shove.

  “How long can a human survive without water, Sophie?” he asked matter-of-factly, inspecting his work.

  “Um . . . about three-four days, I believe.”

  “When was the last time you had a drink?” he continued, without sparing me a glance.

  “At lunch time, today,” I replied, remembering my water bottle left in Ashley’s backpack.

  “So, you have at least two more days, right?” He glowered my way. “I promised to keep you alive until tomorrow, not to provide you with a high level of comfort, princess.”

  Without saying another word, he left through the front door, shutting it behind loudly.

  Well. Monster it is then.

  Chapter 7

  MY MOUTH FELT LINED with sandpaper when I woke up to the chill of early morning. At least I was reasonably warm under the thick blanket.

  The flames in the fireplace were high when I opened my eyes. Enough warmth radiated from the fire to keep me asleep through the remainder of the night, it seemed—the sky outside the glass doors was already light grey.

  All my senses zoomed in on what woke me up in the first place—the appetizing smell of roasted meat.

  I sat up on the couch, noticing the monster reclining on the floor in front of the fireplace, with his back leaning against the couch at my feet. He held a long stick in his hands, roasting a strip of meat in the fire. Several more sticks with seasoned meat on them lay in a tray on the floor next to him.

  “Morning,” he barked out, without looking at me.

  “Good morning.” I rubbed the remnants of the sleep out of my eyes.

  Still staring into the flames, he reached to his side then pressed a mug of water in my hands.

  “Oh my God! Thank you so much,” I croaked out, forgetting all about my resolution not to thank him anymore.

  “It’s from the river. Drink at your own risk,” he warned me.

  The water seemed clean and felt icy-cold. I reasoned that most of the bacteria in it must have frozen to death already. If not, I was ready to deal with it as I gulped the water up.

  “Oh, that was so good.” I put the empty mug down on the floor, and he shoved the stick with the meat he had roasted in my hands as soon as they were empty.

  The meat smelled amazing. Ravenously hungry, I tore into it immediately.

  “This is delicious! What is it?”

  “Rabbit.”

  I paused my chewing but only for a moment. This was the first time I ever had to eat a rabbit. It tasted excellent though, with the texture of very tender dark chicken meat.

  “It’s good,” I complimented around a mouthful of the deliciousness. “The seasoning is so yummy, too.”

  “Montreal Steak Spice. Found a jar of it in the cupboard.” His voice was void of emotion. And I fought the urge to ask if he was okay. Chances were I’d get another one of his rude replies, so I just ate quietly for a few moments, watching him furtively.

  In the pale light of the graying sunrise, his brown fur was spotted with silver highlights. With one of his hind legs bent on the floor in front of him, he rested the elbow on the raised knee of the other. The pose was very human, even as his legs still reminded me of a wolf.

  “Ashley mentioned there was some alcohol in the kitchen,” I blurted out the first random thing that came into my head at that moment.

  It wasn’t like I hoped for a real conversation here, but despite his gloomy mood, he hadn’t roared or snarled at me. As far as I was concerned, for him, it was an improvement.

  “There is. Whiskey. Why?” He turned to face me. “Do you want some?”

  “No.” I exhaled a short laugh. “It’s way too early for that.”

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “It should be a good one if you change your mind—the bottle has been sitting there for at least six years.”

  “I guess you don’t drink?”

  “No. Not anymore. Alcohol has devastating effects on me.” His somber expression darkened when he clarified, “Devastating for others.”

  ‘Not anymore.’

  What other human things did he use to do? Did many of them prove to be devastating for others? Could that be one of the reasons why he was alone now?

  I held back the barrage of questions his answer had evoked, not wishing to be rebuked once again.

  He handed me another meat skewer.

  I bit my lip, forbearing to thank him yet again as I accepted it, and struggled to come up with an innocuous question. One that would be less likely to flare up his temper.

  “Have you been living here long?”

  “I don’t live here.”

  This was easy to believe—the house appeared deserted.

  “Did you ever live here? Whose house is it?”

  “You want to ask what I am again next?” he rebuked, effectively stopping my questions.

  He twisted to the side to pick up another stick with raw meat from the tray, and I noticed a slight wince on his face.

  The wounds on his back and shoulder appeared better than they had last night, definitely cleaner.

  He had said the water for me was from a river. It seemed he had cleaned his wounds in the river, too—the blood that had caked his fur was gone.

  He must have felt my curious gaze because he glanced my way, his deep-set eyes clouded under the heavy eyelids.

  The way he held his head, moving it with extra caution, told me he might have pain not only in his injured side. He lifted his hand to rub his forehead then, and my suspicions grew stronger.

  “You have a headache. Don’t you?”

  He turned away again.

  “It should get better in an hour or so. It usually gets better by midday.” He handed me the last stick of meat and made a move to get up.

  “Wait.” I stopped him. “I could try to help you . . . If you let me.” I put the stick down on the tray and folded my hands in my lap. “I know several massage techniques to relieve different types of headaches.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at me skeptically but remained sitting.

  “Does it actually help?” A corner of his upper lip curled up again, only this time it came out more like teasing than mocking.

  The faint hope in his voice encouraged me to continue.

  “Most patients report a significant improvemen
t.” I nodded with confidence.

  “Even patients with horns?” A faint spark of amusement broke through the clouds in his eyes.

  “No. Never had a client with horns.” I was unable to hold my own smile back.

  His gaze stayed on mine for a few moments, as he seemed to consider my offer before nodding.

  “Couldn’t be any worse, I guess.”

  I slid to the other end of the couch, positioning myself behind him. Massage was something I enjoyed doing, and it tied perfectly with my innate desire to help people. Of course, it was not always as effective as a strong dose of painkillers.

  In his case, hopefully, it would at least ease the tension hanging around him like a dark shroud.

  Reaching around his horns carefully, I pressed the tips of my fingers to his temples. The solid bone underneath was a striking contrast to the softness of the short fur covering it, and I wondered if his biology was similar enough to a human’s for this to work.

  I continued to move my fingers in small circles up to the top of his forehead, applying even pressure as I went.

  He sat completely still, giving me no indication if any of it was working for him. On the other hand, he made no attempt to stop me either, so I kept going.

  I moved my fingers along his forehead, tracing around the place where people would have a hairline, except that he had none—the short fur on his face gradually turned into the long wavy mane on his head.

  Then I encountered a problem—the horns were in my way.

  I hovered my hands above his forehead for a second, considering the best way to proceed, then gently pushed at the base of the horns, making the same even circles all the way around each one.

  He shifted slightly under my touch, and a low rumble vibrated deep inside his chest. Unsure of what it meant, I paused for a moment.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he bit out sharply and rose to his feet abruptly.

  I think I made him mad again.

  So much for relieving the tension.

  I watched him move to the front door.

  With a huff, he went down on all fours, looking even more like an animal this way. His long tail flicked the hocks on the back of his legs like that of an angry cat when he opened the door and left without saying a word.

  Chapter 8

  LEFT ALONE AFTER MONSTER’S sudden departure, I finished my breakfast then inspected my injuries.

  My ankle had swollen overnight, and it throbbed like crazy when I lowered it off the couch. Pain still prevented me from putting any weight on it.

  I couldn’t see the scratches on my back, but the ones on my legs were angry-red and definitely in need of medical attention.

  All I could do at the moment, though, was to hope that Jason had already let someone know I was here and that help was on the way.

  The monster appeared in the front door.

  “They’re here, princess. Your search party has arrived.”

  Relief flooded through me.

  “Did you see them? Is it Jason?”

  “No, I didn’t see them, but I know someone is on the property, on their way here. I’ll carry you out towards the road.” Monster stomped to the couch where I sat. “I don’t want them to come anywhere near here.”

  He scooped me up and carried me out of the house.

  The morning frost in the air outside made me lean into him, seeking the warmth of his fur. It had fully dried, with not a hint of the wet dog smell anymore. Instead, the fresh, rather pleasant scent of frosty pinewood filled my nose.

  On the other side of the rose hedge, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take you about halfway to the road. Remember our deal, get them off the property.”

  The forest around us was calm and silent. Apart from the odd bird call or rustle in the dry leaves, I couldn’t hear much.

  “How do you know anyone is here?”

  “I always feel if someone crosses over the property line. I get this thing in my head. It’s like something is poking me all the time the person is here.” He rolled his head. “Not a very pleasant feeling, to tell you the truth.”

  “Have you been having this unpleasant feeling from my being here, too?”

  He glanced my way.

  “Among a million other feelings,” he muttered under his breath then stopped and lowered me to the ground. “They’re moving this way. It won’t be long.”

  “Wait,” I called when he turned around to leave.

  What else could I possibly want from him? He had delivered on his promise—he kept me alive. During the night I spent in his presence, he was rude, even mean at times. At this point, I wanted more than anything to get away from here, but I couldn’t just leave him like this.

  “Thank you for keeping your promise,” I started when he glared expectantly at me over his shoulder.

  He shrugged. “Make sure you keep yours.”

  “Listen, I’ll be in the area for a few more days,” I continued hurriedly, afraid that he’d leave without letting me finish. “If there’s anything you need from the town, I could get it for you . . .”

  My offer might have been somewhat unexpected even for me, but it came from the heart. As happy as I was to return to civilization myself, I had mixed feelings about leaving him here alone.

  Regardless of what or who he was, whatever human was in him made it hard for me to just leave him behind. After all, he was injured while saving my life and seemed to be completely on his own.

  At first, it appeared he wouldn’t respond. Silent, he turned around and moved into the trees surrounding us.

  After a couple of steps, though, he threw another glance my way then stopped suddenly.

  “Painkillers. Leave them on this side of the fence, I’ll find them.”

  “Painkillers?” I didn’t know what, if anything, I had expected him to ask from me, but there was something so heart-wrenching about his request that I felt sudden tears prickling my eyes.

  “Leave them by the fence. Don’t come into the woods again, Sophie.”

  He went down on all fours and with a bound disappeared between the trees.

  I watched him leave until the last glimpse of his russet fur blended completely with the undergrowth, and a heavy feeling of sadness sank deeper into my heart.

  Chapter 9

  MONSTER

  As soon as he was confident that the underbrush concealed him from view, he stopped and peeked through the branches back to where he’d left Sophie.

  He convinced himself he needed to make sure she didn’t lead her rescuers to the house. The fact was, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

  The nagging feeling of intrusion intensified with the search party approaching. He caught their scent, long before they came into view.

  There were just two of them—her wimp of a boyfriend accompanied by a female RCMP officer. There were no dogs, he noted with relief, no hunters with guns either, although the officer held a handgun, pointed at the ground ready to fire.

  “Sophie!” the boyfriend exclaimed a little too dramatically to Monster’s ear and rushed to her side. “Thank God, you’re alive!” He looked around nervously. “Where is that thing? Is it gone?”

  “Miss Morel?” The officer knelt next to Sophie and holstered her gun. “Are you injured?”

  “Officer, the house is that way.” Jason pointed east.

  The officer squinted at him in a mixture of amazement and disgust. “I think our priority right now should be Miss Morel’s physical condition.”

  Jason had the decency to appear ashamed even if just for a moment.

  “I’ll be fine, I don’t think anything’s broken.” Sophie glanced towards the bushes where Monster was hiding, even though he was positive she couldn’t see him and had no way of knowing that he was still here. Her gaze flickered to Jason, then back to the officer. “Just cold, tired, and anxious to get out of these woods.”

  “We’re going to get you out of here,” the officer promised. “It’s lucky we foun
d you this fast—mere hours since you were reported missing.” She frowned Jason’s way.

  “I reported as soon as I could, Sophie.” He avoided the officer’s glare. “It’s not my fault that it took us forever to find the way back to the lodge in the dark. It’s not like there’s any cell phone reception in these damn woods. And half of these roads aren’t even on Google maps.”

  “We should go.” Sophie sounded tired.

  “Did that thing attack you?” Jason pawed at her back, tugging at the ripped fabric of her jacket. “Is it still at the house? We should search it.” He turned to the RCMP officer again. Apparently, the presence of her gun made him much braver than he was yesterday.

  “Miss Morel needs medical attention,” the officer pointed out and reached for Sophie to help her up. “Can you walk?”

  “I’ll try.” Sophie nodded. “I twisted my ankle, Jason.” The steely note in her voice felt like music to Monster’s ears. “I should see a doctor, the sooner the better.”

  She took the officer’s arm and staggered to her feet, obviously well prepared to leave, making good on her promise to keep them off his property.

  “We can always search the place later,” the officer added in a flat tone, signaling to Jason to follow them back to the road.

  “Wouldn’t you need a warrant to do a search?” Sophie pointed out. “It’s a private property, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s a private land. I’d need a statement to obtain the warrant.”

  “Why would anyone need any statements or warrants if there is an alien beast on the loose?” Jason, The Prick, was becoming increasingly more annoying.

  “An alien beast?” Sophie tilted her head, gazing at Jason as though he’d gone mad. Monster had to silently applaud her acting skills. “Jason, it was a bear.”

  “A bear? Are you saying a bear did this to you?” He poked at her back and Monster had to stifle the low, threatening rumble building in his chest.

  Touch her one more time, you fucker!

  “Yes, a bear. I played dead like in that movie, remember? The bear lost interest and left. I spent the night in the house, but then I thought I should move closer to the road today to make it easier for any search party. It took me a while, hopping on one leg, but I made it this far.”