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The Monster Within: Chapter Four: Understanding
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The Monster Within: Chapter One: Call Me Grim
The air blows around me, just begging me to shiver in reply, nipping my ears and making my eyes water. What a cold, cold morning that I’m plagued with. But I don’t mind much. I’ve been plagued by worse things than a frigid body.
Monster. That’s what they call me—’monster’. They’re not saying it to be rude, though I’d prefer that to be the case. My entire life, people have been running away from me because they’re scared that I might hurt them. And I might.
I’m not the same as other kids. I’m not your typical teenager with typical problems. What makes me different?
Well, for starters, no teenager can turn into a wolf.
There, I said it. That’s what makes me different. Whenever I let my guard down, or let me anger get the best of me, that’s when he takes control—The Wolf.
I mean, I always wanted to be a superhero, like the ones I’ve read in comic books, but I didn’t know that being the Hulk would be like this. I didn’t expect that when I became a young man that I would find out what it’s like to share a body with a psychopath.
I once read a book about a man named Dr. Jekyll, a man who concocts a potion that gives him an alternate personality, one the opposite of his character, Mr. Hyde. I don’t know if I’d ever relate to a fictional character before in all my life. Dr. Jekyll and I are so much alike, cursed with a monster within us.
I wasn’t always alone, though. Once upon a time, I had a family, and I was happy. But everything changed when I woke up one morning to find a voice in my head, someone who snarled at me with fangs. He longed for blood like it was life, and demanded that I let it feed. When I refused, it roared. I found myself losing control of my body. I began to grow hair all over, and my teeth became fangs, and my fingernails became claws. And then I was no longer myself. I was a monster.
I don’t have a family anymore. Take a wild guess what happened to them.
The people on the street call me ‘The Werewolf’ or ‘The Wolf’, because that’s what I become. But that’s not the name I want for myself. I’m not the animal; that’s him.
No, I’m not the Wolf.
Call me Grim.
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The Monster Within: Chapter Six: Rampage
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The Monster Within: Chapter Three: Can’t Escape Part 2
This is not good.
I jump up. So much for nap-time. Now I’ve got to run from the authorities. Lucky me. I head for the other end of the alleyway, coming out on the other side. While not as barren as the other street, it’s still lacking in people, so I hurry down the street. If someone called the police and told them that I was on that street in that alley, then I would need to get as far away from that alley as I possibly could.
Calm. I need to be calm. I take several deep breaths and clear my mind to keep me from spiraling. Keep looking forward, don’t look back. Relax, you’re too tense.
“Yes, yes, run away, little pup, as that’s all you can do.” The Wolf says sneeringly. I want to snap back at him, but I have to contain myself.
Despite my attempts to remain calm, my mind races. The police can’t seriously believe that a teenage boy lost his temper and grew fur and claws, could they? They’ll think that the people there are delusional, won’t they?
Relax. I need to relax. They won’t be able to find me, surely. I’ll just huddle in another alley and wait it out. They can’t be that determined to find someone who didn’t do anything, right?
Then again, if it means capturing the person responsible for all those mysterious murders, they might be. But how would they know it was me? Unless…no. There’s no way. No one has seen me transform before and lived. But if someone survived somehow. No. It’s not possible. Or is it?
I quicken my pace.
I can hear the sirens, even at this distance, and I bet people are now wondering where they’re going. And to whom.
I need to hide. No, scratch that, I need to escape. Escape from what, though? I’ve been running away for months, trying to escape from something I know that I can never escape from.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t notice that there are people on the sidewalks again, and I don’t see where I’m going. I bump into a man. I fall to the ground, though the man barely moves. He stands there, his back to me as I lie on mine, held up by my elbows.
The man turns his head toward me, a smile on his lips as he looks right at me with his timeless gray eyes. He touches the brim of his sand-colored fedora at me, saying, “Love conquers all, my friend, if you’re looking for a cure.” Then he turns and disappears in a sudden crowd of people.
I sit there, confused. That was a strange thing to say to someone out of the blue. I stand up and try to find the man’s sand-colored fedora and ankle-length trench coat, but he’s gone. He must’ve ducked into a shop or something.
As I stumble around, I find myself face-to-face with my reflection in a shop window. 16, dressed in rags, hair disheveled. But I didn’t care about that. What stands out to me the most are my eyes. They aren’t brown like my eyes usually are. No, they’re in slits, and blood red. So that’s what the boy in the shop was screaming at. But why are they like this? What happened?
The sirens ring through the air again, bringing my attention back to them. As I turn in their direction, I see a police car turn the corner on this street, the sirens blaring in my ears.
Panic rises within me as the officer’s eyes lock onto mine. A split second is shared between us before she reacts to this slit-eyed, homeless child who looks like the one from the coffee shop. As her car reaches me, I find myself running in the opposite direction.
What am I thinking? I realize. I can’t outrun a car!
A thought bubbles into my mind, and I clutch it. Without thinking, I bend over and begin running on all fours, going strangely faster than I was springing on two limbs. I tear through the crowds, causing many people to look and gasp, but I don’t care. I’m going faster than the car, and I’m nearing a corner.
I screech to a halt and turn the corner, momentarily blocked from the policewoman’s vision. Now, if only I can find a shop I can hide in as she passes by.
There. A clothing store is mere inches away from me. The perfect place to hide. I swing the door open and shut it behind me as I rush in. I crash into one of the vacant changing rooms, locking it behind me.
Safe at last, I put my back against the door and slide down, finally able to breathe easy again. My thoughts begin to clear, and my heartbeat slows down.
There. I’ve done it. I’ve escaped.
But not from everything. Not yet.
I take another deep breath to clear my mind. I need to figure out a way out of this mess.
“Hello?” A voice asks from behind the door. “Are you okay in there?”
I stop breathing immediately.
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The Monster Within: Chapter Two: Can’t Escape Part 1
I prowl the sidewalk, wary of the hundreds of people around me, hurrying to get to wherever they need to be. I have no destination, unless you count running away from the inevitable, which it doesn’t.
The sun is in the sky, shining down upon the bundled-up citizens below. I feel it warm my skin, the only comfort I ever get, and I remember the times before, back when things were better. But a cold gust of wind wakes me from my reminiscing, as if reminding me of the present.
I can feel him inside my mind, scratching, clawing, begging me to let him out, to let him feed. He’s too impatient. I allow him to feed once every night, or he’ll rampage again.
“Let me out!” He bellows, his cries making my mind vibrate. No one else hears his voice, so they only see me clutch my head and murmur, “Not yet, not now.”
The hours pass by, and soon there is no one left on the street, just me and my shadow, and my shadow is bored. His voice grates on my nerves, causing headaches and making my life miserable. “This life is a bore. You do nothing but walk all day, don’t bother to eat or sleep! I feel like I’m the only one who’s doing anything, but you only let me out at night! You’re always such a wuss.”
“Shut up!” I snap, knowing that it was no use. My blood boils, my face red with frustration. Day in and day out, he would complain and insult me. He thought he was tired? My life was ruined because of him, my family gone, with no one to turn to, as I get blamed for the Wolf’s actions.
Though I was tired. I’d been walking for days now, not trusting myself to fall asleep. Then again, I would surely collapse if I didn’t rest anytime soon. It’s funny, you’d figure that once I become the Wolf, I’d get some rest. But no, it’s like I’m half-asleep, resting but not fully unconscious, like being stuck in a nightmare.
Thankfully, I have the day to myself to enjoy a life that I control; the only downside is the Wolf speaking to me, urging me to kill, to be a monster like himself. I won’t give in, but the nagging’s enough to drive me crazy.
My stomach growls. I don’t usually eat during the day, as we get plenty to eat at night when I let the Wolf out to hunt, but sometimes I can’t help craving a snack from time to time.
I gaze around lazily, my eyes coming to rest on a nearby coffee shop. Perfect. I’m not one for coffee, usually preferring caffeinated sodas to that bitter brown liquid, but today I’m wanting something stronger. I feel in my pocket for the bit of cash I took off a victim a while back. This should be enough.
I cross the street to the coffee shop and enter. It’s a rather ordinary coffee shop, with tile floors and smooth walls, tables lined up against the wall and spread across the floor. The menu is written on a blackboard behind the counter, where several baristas in green aprons stand and take orders. The smell of coffee and cream hit my nose, jolting my enhanced senses.
I hurry and order my coffee, taking a seat in the corner to wait for it to come out. I’m so tired, but I can’t help fidgeting. Something weighs on my mind, keeping me from relaxing. I’ve tried to suppress it, but I can’t help but think about them.
I haven’t seen them for years, ever since that one fiasco, back when I thought I could fight the Wolf. Dozens died, and from the shadows I watched men in suits come to the scene. They didn’t put up any police tape or call for reinforcements. They just collected bits and pieces left over from the massacre and put them in plastic bags, then they drove off. I never forgot them, and I never lost the fear that they’re following me to this day, trying to find me, for what I can only imagine.
One of the baristas calling my name with my order woke me from my thoughts. I pick up my coffee and sit back for a while, sipping quietly as I continue to think, the same questions as always resurfacing. Were they with the government? Did they want to dissect me? Are they still following me even now?
Before I know it, I’ve finished my coffee, and yet I feel the same: tired, hungry, and paranoid. I feel something within me stir, something instinctive, and I tense. I snap my head up just in time to see a kid a bit older than me walking across the coffee shop, followed by his friends, snickering amongst each other. Well, that doesn’t bode well.
I know what he’s going to do. A dirty kid walks in, dressed in rags, pays with cash, and sits alone in the corner. The way he sees it, his afternoon entertainment has arrived. And so, thinking it the best thing to do, I stand.
The boy looks like he wants to push me back down, but he puts his cocky smirk back into place as he stops in front of me. “Can I help you?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice pleasant and not gruff as it’s gotten.
“Hm… No,” He says. “I was actually going to ask you the same thing. Maybe I could loan you some soap?” His lackeys guffawed, finding his scornful joke hilarious.
I sit back down in my seat, glaring in front of me. “Leave me alone.”
Of course, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he sits across from me and gets all up in my face. “Oh, what’s wrong, tough guy? Don’t want to get in a fight today, you dirty whelp?”
I growl, feeling my blood boil. This wasn’t going to go well. I grit my teeth. “You’re right, I don’t.” I clench my fists, which quiver violently under the table.
“Really? That’s a shame, kid, because you happen to have a very punchable face.” The boy says plainly, insulting me almost casually. His lackeys laugh some more, oblivious that they’re poking a bear.
I ignore the laughter, though. Instead, I glare at the jerk-face in front of me, smirking triumphantly, like he just won an award. He’ll win something, alright.
The Wolf is rocking inside my mind, snarling and gnashing his teeth. “Kill him!” He howls, his voice echoing in my mind. “Let me rip him apart!” It was tempting, but I’ve learned to ignore such temptations.
I take a deep breath to steady myself, to clear my mind, and then I lunge forward. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him towards me. “Listen here, you little punk,” I snarl in his ear, “You approached me seeking prey, and you’ve found a predator. Don’t make me show my claws.” He looks into my eyes and screams. I blink. What’s up with him? I look down at my hands and arms, and I see what’s wrong.
Fur begins to cover my arms, and my fingers have claws on the tips, digging into the boy’s skin. He begins to squirm like a child, crying for help. I drop him to the floor, and he crawls desperately away, breathing heavily.
I curse under my breath as the fur thickens. I look around the room, seeing horrified faces staring at me. The customers, the barista, everyone, staring at me, transfixed to the spot.
I need to get out of here. I get up, knocking over the table. The coffee cup hits the floor with a tinkle, sending shards across the tile. They all sit and stare, too scared to move, as I leave the coffee shop, already halfway through becoming the Wolf.
I sprint across the street and hide in an alley, every muscle tensed. I take several deep breaths, massaging my arms and willing them to relax. The fur recedes, and the claws disappear, and I stand there quivering. That was close.
“Dammit.” The Wolf curses quietly. He knows when he’s beaten and doesn’t say anything more.
I slump against a brick wall, sitting on the coarse concrete floor. I’m breathing heavily. The people in the coffee shop think they’re scared? I’ve never been so close to becoming the Wolf in ages. If he’d managed to gain enough control, he would have ripped that kid’s head off and then silenced all the witnesses.
Anyhoo, I’m exhausted. Struggling for control of your body can really take it out of you. I let my head lean against the wall and close my eyes. I’ve been due for a nap for a long time.
But then I hear the sirens.
Crap.
The Monster Within 