The Narrator, fed up with all that has happened, decides to take on the beasts...Mature

They say that, when someone is pushed too far, that something snaps inside them. A mental chain, holding back something terrible. It is also said that when this force is released, the host experiences an out-of-body moment, in which their everyday, restrained spirit is supplanted by the inner demon. It is in this moment when all sense of safety is dashed upon rocks of insane courage. It is at this moment when man is at it's most dangerous, were they are completely reckless, completely disregarding of their own life. 

Jimmy stood, hoarfrost settling on the grass and branches, the loud hooting of an owl in his ears. His eyes were cold, unflinching. Slowly, he searched for a suitable weapon, his breath slow and regulated. He finally found what he was looking for, a large piece of birch, with one end a vicious mess of shattered splinters. 
"Jimmy, where are you?" Nancy's voice cut through the forest, striking his ears with unbearable urgency. Jimmy hurried, his face grim, through the forest. He broke into a sprint, the long thin branches whipping him, the thicker limbs bludgeoning his body. 
Finally, he came upon his dread. Nancy lay on the forest floor, a large gash dripping blood on her shoulder. The beast that loomed above her was new, it's foetid flesh clean of wounds, or at least ones he had inflicted. It's predatory jaw was open wide, dripping yellow froth. 
Without a word, Jimmy charged, his stick held high. The beast whipped it's head up, it's fangs bared. In a flash, Jimmy was upon it, thrusting the stick down on the beasts skull. The splintered end crumbled as the wood glanced off, leaving it's head lacerated. The wood fell, and a large claw slammed into Jimmy's stomach, carving flesh and spilling intestines. 
Jimmy screamed, his life slipping away. He balled his fists and beat at his killer, but to no avail. His stick had had little effect, so his fists were useless. The beasts bit his shoulder, it's claws sinking deep, the froth burning his flesh. With a mighty jerk, his arm came away. Eyes clouding, he knew he was gone. 

The beast roared, then went back to mauling Jimmy. It ripped a leg off, raked it's claws upon his chest, ripping open his ribcage, and beating his head to a pulp, sending blood, brains and yellow froth in a gruesome rain as it tore in a frenzy at his bloody smear of a corpse. 
It's hunger sated, the beast finished it's meal, leaving nothing but a pool of blood and some lacerated flesh. It looked around for the Nancy, but she was gone, and the faint fingers of light were threading their way through the dark forest, sirens blearing faintly on the horizon.  

The End

20 comments about this story Feed