by A R Davis
It grew quiet for a long time. Valerie’s stomach twisted. She hated that she was being so stupid about this. Who cared what this monster thought of her? Once she escaped, he would merely be a horrible memory. Even so, she added, “I had to take care of my father.”
She wished she hadn’t said that. Now he had the opportunity to ask her a whole host of questions, and she certainly did not want to talk about her father with this creature. She nervously stuffed her mouth with a piece of undercooked potato.
“Where would you want to go?” The monster asked.
The question caught her off guard. He was good at doing that. “I can hardly go anywhere if I’m stuck here,” she said and glared at him. This was his fault, no matter how well he treated her, no matter how kindly he spoke to her. This was his fault. She had to keep reminding herself of that.
He was staring at her; his eyes were soft, and she hated when he looked at her like that, like she…mattered to him in some regard.
“You’re not going to be here forever,” the monster said.
If he thought his words would inspire hope or make her think fondly of him, he was mistaken. All it did was make her more angry and bitter about what he did in keeping her there. “How long am I to be here, then?” she asked in a sullen tone.
“I don’t know,” he said. After a moment, he added, “When I am ready to leave this place, you can go.”
“You’re going to travel again?”
“No.”
Valerie furrowed her brow in confusion. “Then what are you going to do?”
He remained quiet, which meant he didn’t want to answer.
“When will you be ready?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “It’s not up to me.”
“Who is it up to, then?”
Silence again. This would have been very frustrating if she cared.
She didn’t. Not at all.
“Where will you go?” the monster asked.
Valerie wanted to sound confident. She wanted to tell an elaborate story about the rest of her life, but there were so many unknowns that she couldn’t make them up if she tried. She repeated his answer, “I’m not sure.” Her mind raced ahead and she saw herself alone in the forest. She saw herself wandering the streets of some unknown town. Then she saw herself an old woman, miserable and alone, having accomplished nothing and gone nowhere.
She felt like screaming.
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and blinked them back immediately. I am not going to cry, not in front of him, she thought. She told herself she would not fear the unknown. These thoughts held very little conviction.
“It matters not,” she said and speared a piece of bloody meat with her fork. “I’ll just be happy to have my freedom.”
Valerie awoke the next morning with her fingers wrapped around the Beast under her pillow. What time was it? Usually the monster announced that he had cooked right as the sun was rising. Valerie groggily rubbed at her eyes and got out of bed. She tried to remember if she heard the monster return; she had heard him leave a few hours after supper last night.
She went to the kitchen and found it empty. The table was not set and the stove was cold. Valerie stood there for a long while, letting it sink in.
The monster had not returned.
Maybe he left for good, maybe that was why he was discussing it during supper. It would have been nice if he had told her outright that he was going to leave. Now, she was left standing there like an idiot, unsure of where to go or what to do.
After a while, Valerie returned to the entrance room and paced.
She could wait for him. He might come back.
She could stay here until she figured it all out. But then, if the monster did indeed return, she would miss the only opportunity she had to escape.
After gathering a few provisions from the kitchen and tying them in a bundle, Valerie went to the front door and prayed that it wasn’t locked. She didn’t know if there would be enough time to figure out how to pick it.
Valerie steeled herself, placed her hand on the knob, and turned it.
It opened.
She gasped as the door revealed a small crack of the outside world. A chilly breeze swept through, and it was the most inviting and frightening thing she had ever felt. She pushed the door wide open and took a daring step outside.
In front of her was the monster.
Valerie froze as she took in his appearance. He was leaning against a tree, soaked to the bone. His fur was a darker brown than usual and water dripped off the ends of his pointed ears. He was drawing in raspy, uneven breaths and gingerly held his side. Valerie’s eyes traveled to the spot.
“You’re bleeding,” she gasped.
The monster opened his mouth as though he was going to speak. Before he could utter a word, he collapsed.
Chapter 15
It had to be done. It was an unusually warm autumn morning, and Young Aubrey deemed it the right time to go after the demon. The death bell had ceased to ring and, according to Captain Jonasson, the town appeared to be bustling back to normal again. Young Aubrey was glad that their mourning had ended. Now, it was time to raise their spirits again.
Every time Young Aubrey peered out his window at the treetops, he could feel a knot in his stomach. He knew the demon was waiting for him, but he could not act while the town mourned for the loss of his father. Even the guardsmen looked dour as they patrolled the length of the manor. Several gifts and letters expressing sorrow arrived at his door nonstop for nearly two weeks after they buried his father. So many people loved him. No one shed a tear for Captain Yendel, though they had once loved him, too.
What the people needed was a hero. Once he brought back the head of the demon, they would cheer for him and they would love him as much as they loved his father. They would never want him to perish, and they would forgive every sin that tainted his soul.
“Captain, before you leave, I need you to send four of your men to me,” Young Aubrey said as he stared out of the window of his father’s office. The chair was not entirely comfortable; the imprint of his father’s form still lingered in the leather. “I must speak with them about an urgent matter.”
“Of course, Ma – my Lord. Forgive me,” the Captain replied. “Do you have any particular men in mind?”
“No. Any of them will do.”
Captain Jonasson failed to act quickly. Though he could not see him, Young Aubrey could picture the uncertain look on the captain’s face.
“Is there something else you need, Captain?”
“No, sir. If I may, I was wondering what this urgent matter entails.”
Young Aubrey turned to face him. “If you must know, I am arranging a little hunting party.”
“Hunting?”
“Yes. I’m going to kill the demon.”
Young Aubrey tensed, waiting for the question like a gunshot. It never came.
“I can accompany you, my Lord.”
“I would rather you didn’t. I need you to protect the town. And in case something happens to me…” He trailed off, placing his hand flat against the parchment on his desk. His signature was still wet and glistening at the bottom. If he wanted to, he could smear it across the page and stain the pretty white corners.
“My Lord?”
Young Aubrey laughed. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Nothing is going to happen to me.” He spoke the words with the utmost confidence. They would be true if he meant them well enough. “When I bring back this…animal…do you think there would be a good place for it on the wall?”
When night fell, Young Aubrey readied himself for the hunt. He armed himself with a knife and pistol, and checked to make sure his mask was firmly in place. It gleamed in the moonlight, smiling wickedly at the shadows around him. He felt a tightening in his belly as he adjusted the pouch that held his bullets and gunpowder. The image of the demon, bloody and terrible, crossed his mind several times, making him fumble with the buttons on his breeches.
I’m not ready, a small voice piped up from the back of his mind.
It mattered not. No amount of preparation would ready him for his encounter with the demon.
It was best to end this now.
Once he was fully armed and armored, he made his way to the front gate where four of his guardsmen were waiting for him. A dog circled around their legs, sniffing the ground eagerly. The guardsmen stood at attention as Young Aubrey approached, and the dog sat obediently between them.
“I trust everything is in order,” Young Aubrey said.
“Yes, sir,” the guardsmen replied. The dog barked.
“Remember, you are to shoot to incapacitate, not to kill. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
The dog barked again.
Young Aubrey gestured to the gate. “Shall we?”
They rode on horseback through the town; the clopping of the horses’ hooves broke through the stillness of the night. Streetlamps illuminated the cobblestoned road ahead. The dog ran in excited circles between the horses with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. It meandered off a few times to mark its territory. As they neared the plaza, they could hear the echoes of jubilant shouts coming from the pub. Most of the houses were completely dark, save a few candles flickering on windowsills. Young Aubrey thought he could see shadowed face in a few of the windows. It felt as though fingers were sliding slowly down his spine, causing him to shiver.
It was a cold night, and it became more frigid as they arrived at the forest entrance. The entrance was in the shape of a mouth, a sliver of its pale brown tongue visible in the moonlight. Beyond it was complete, ominous darkness. Young Aubrey felt that once they entered, they would be swallowed completely. He looked reassuringly to his guardsmen. No harm will come to me, he repeated. If anything, they will keep me safe.
They dismounted and tied their horses to the trees. Young Aubrey took a little longer to tie his horse; his fingers were stiff with the mounting cold. Even his bones felt as though they were freezing in the night. He grabbed his rifle, turned to his men, and led them into the mouth of the forest.
While most of Leola slept, the forest was wide awake. All around them was a cacophony of soft and harsh sounds blending together. Two of his guardsmen held up torches, which surrounded them in a generous orb of light. Even so, Young Aubrey could barely make out what produced the clicking and cawing. Above them, he caught a glimpse of bright owl eyes as they assessed him with disapproval.
The dog sniffed the ground intently, barking at a strange noise every minute or so. Young Aubrey felt his grip tighten on his rifle. He flinched whenever a branch snapped underneath him. He was trying to fight the memory of the demon; flashes of his terrible form came faster than they did when he was safe in his room. Not even the company of his men could put him at ease. He hoped against hope that he would be able to kill the demon. He tried to imagine the reaction of the townspeople, how they would laud him. In his head, their cheers turned into screams.
The image of the company’s shadows thrown against the trees twisted and contorted into a massive, ugly form mounted Young Aubrey’s anxiety. He wondered if the demon would be just as terrible or if he was even larger than he remembered. He remembered the demon’s blood-stained teeth, the human skin stuck between them.
“It’s quiet,” one of the men announced and paused in his stride. Everyone stopped moving and tensed up. All of the surrounding sounds vanished, and they heard nothing but their own collected breaths.
Suddenly, the dog gave a long, piercing howl that echoed throughout the trees. Young Aubrey’s breathing quickened. The dog howled and howled, and it started to spin in maddening circles.
“What on earth is wrong with you, you stupid mutt?” one of the guardsmen asked. He made to kick the dog, but he never got the chance. It bolted in the other direction, howling as it tore through the shrubbery. The guard swore as he stumbled after it, holding his torch in front of him.
The three remaining guardsmen and Young Aubrey grew tense as they waited for their comrade to return with the dog. They pointed their rifles all around them.
“I’ve never seen that dog scare so easily, sir,” the guard on Young Aubrey’s left muttered. “I don’t know what on earth could have caused that.”
Young Aubrey continued to scan the shadows for any signs of movement.
“We should escort you back, sir –”
“No,” Young Aubrey replied harshly. With his rifle, he gestured to the space in front of them. “Go and scout ahead. Give us the signal if you find anything.”
The guard hesitated.
“That’s an order.”
The guard nodded before marching off into the darkness. He had one hand on the pistol at his side.
Young Aubrey listened to the reassuring crunching sounds of the guardsman’s footsteps. Where are you? he thought as he waited for the signal. I know you’re here.
Behind him, one of his men shouted.
Young Aubrey whipped around to see him trapped under a massive shadow. The torch had fallen to the floor, but Young Aubrey did not need the light to know that, at last, he had encountered the demon. It cut into the guard’s neck with a sharp swipe of its claws.
The demon moved quickly; before the last guard could even take aim, it got to its feet, tore the rifle away, and planted its teeth into his neck. The guard’s screams turned into a gurgled cry. He fell to his knees, reaching for Young Aubrey, who stood transfixed in horror.
There was a wet, tearing sound as the demon wrenched off a mouthful of skin and meat. The smell of blood permeated the air.
The demon turned its attention to him, growling like an animal.
Young Aubrey fumbled with his rifle as he took a few steps back.
The demon slowly approached him, appearing almost deranged in the sparse light. Blood was spattered all over its front, and its claws were outstretched, ready to strike him again.
Young Aubrey fired.
There was no time to aim properly; he knew it was not a kill shot, but he knew he hit it. The demon staggered and nearly fell to the ground.
Young Aubrey reloaded as quickly as he could. His trembling fingers made him spill a generous amount of gunpowder.
The demon fled.
“Come back and face me, you coward!” Young Aubrey cried as he chased after him.
With no light to guide him, he could barely make out anything in his surroundings. His heart crashed against his chest, rising each time he thought he spotted the demon and falling when it was only shadows playing in his eyes.
Then he spotted it again, limping and hunched over. It wove between the trees, making it hard for Young Aubrey to take a proper shot. As Young Aubrey sprinted to close the distance, he tripped over an exposed root, and he lost his balance and his sight of the demon once again. He swore as he quickly regained his footing. “Come back and accept your punishment!” he shouted as panic rose up his throat. He could not afford to lose the demon, not now, not when he was so close. With his rifle eye-level, he ran as fast as his legs would allow to the last place he saw it.
He found it once more, only a few feet away. He fired but missed; the tree beside the demon exploded into a shower of bark and dust. Young Aubrey swore again and decided not to reload his rifle; it would take too long. He focused all of his energy on catching up with demon, strangling it with his bare hands, and watching the life fade from its eyes in the same way he watched his father die. Nothing on this earth would be sweeter than that.
Young Aubrey charged into the back of the demon, and both of them were knocked off their feet. They tumbled and rolled across the forest floor as though they were swept up in a torrent. The world swirled black and red in front of Young Aubrey’s eyes, and he wondered if he were falling into a void, and if there was ever going to be a way back out of it again. When it all stopped, he got unsteadily to his feet, horrified that the demon had already done the same. He reached for the pistol at his side, but the demon was faster; it punched the mas
ked part of his face, knocking him off his feet again.
He was slow to get back up this time; his head felt like it was quickly filling with too much air. The first few steps he took were unsteady and he had to use a tree for support. The demon was already sprinting away.
Young Aubrey shook himself and began to run again. The trees began to thin out, and soon the demon would no longer have any place to hide. Victory was at his fingertips and a true smile broke across his face as he ran. He was going to win. He was going to be a hero.
The demon stopped suddenly, and Young Aubrey did the same.
The demon took one glance behind him, and Young Aubrey thought he could see a glowing yellow eye.
He heard the sound of rushing water.
With his heart in his throat, Young Aubrey burst into a run again. The word “Don’t” was in his mouth, but he voice could not form it properly. His arm was outstretched as though he meant to save the demon.
The demon jumped into the river and disappeared under the current.
*
Valerie dragged the monster into the house as fast as she could. As skinny as he was, he was as heavy as a sack of bricks. Sweat beaded on her brow as she pulled with all her strength. She only stopped to take in a few breaths, fearing that the shooter or shooters were still somewhere out there. She didn’t have much of a plan other than to get the monster safely indoors. Her only hope was that the monster had done a good job of evading his attackers.
Valerie gritted her teeth as she gave one more heave. Once the monster’s body was completely inside, she hurriedly closed the door. She wished she had the key to lock it; she didn’t feel safe knowing that it was open. Of all the times to leave it unlocked!
What am I to do with you? she asked herself as she knelt beside the monster. He was still taking breaths, though they were shallow and raspy. Blood poured out of his side and stained the dusty floor. Valerie untied his cloak, tore off a piece of her skirt and pressed it against his wound.
It wasn’t going to be enough.
She would have to get the bullet out.
There was no question of how; her father saw to that bit of education. No, the real question was whether or not she could actually do it. She felt as though it required more courage than she had.
