K A Knight - [Her Monsters 01] - Rage

by Knight

  The tug comes again, harder this time, bringing me out of my thoughts. It has been so long since I felt anything but numbness, so I must admit, I am curious. What creature could call me? They would have to be powerful. I have spent the last thousand years gaining so much power, I am almost untouchable, practically the boogeyman even amongst monsters. It’s the intrigue that gets me moving, leaving my cave and following the feeling. I resist it for a moment, just to see what the power will do, and pain ripples through my body, like a vice tightening around me, making me grunt. Strong indeed.

  Even the pain is better than this indifference. As I wander through the woods seeking the call, I debate my life. I could be like the other ancients, I could retreat from the world they no longer understand nor rule. Hide away and remember the good days, let my feelings rot me from the inside out like a diseased tree, but something always kept me tied here. The thought of leaving it causes an almost physical ache, and I never understood why.

  I have to duck under a low hanging branch so my antlers don’t get caught, as a rabbit hops out from behind a tree, freezing when it notices the bigger predator. Even the wolves in the woods hesitate to venture near me, sensing the power. Yet I am at one with the forest, even if I don’t blend in wearing my true form.

  The feeling stops suddenly as I reach the edge of a small break in the trees, and linger in the shadows. Blending with the dark, I watch and wait. My nose twitches at the smell of burnt rubber and smoke as a car rumbles away, speeding as if being chased. Silly human. My eyes rove the ground, noticing the upturned soil and sensing the disturbance in the air. Someone has defiled my land.

  I freeze when a pale hand shoots from the ground, its long slender fingers tipped with red nail polish and adorned with rings that sparkle in the night. It is too delicate to be anything other than human, but for it to be buried, it must be dead.

  Interest gets the better of me and I stalk across the clearing, silencing the animals close by. Leaning down, I capture the wiggling hand and pull. The soil parts for me and I send a tiny drop of power to help it.

  A head and body breaks through the earth and I let go, stepping back and watching in rapt interest. The human is naked and female. No, wait, not human. Dragging air into my lungs, I try to work through the smells assaulting my senses. It is other, something I can’t identify. I don’t know whether it is the comforting aroma of death, but I find myself taking a step closer, only to still when another scent hits me, stronger than before, sending a bolt of lust and longing to my black heart, and hardening my cock. It smells like the forest, like nature itself. Floral but strong, fresh like the air after a storm.

  The creature lifts its head, long golden, bloodstained hair covers its face, but I can still see the beauty. Her beauty. She sits back on her heels, unashamed even naked and covered in her own blood as she is. Her eyes watch me, not in horror like everyone else, but calm and filled with... lust?

  Gracefully, I lower myself into my crossed legged position and tilt my head to watch her. She mirrors my pose, her rose coloured nipples peeking through her curtain of hair. She is pale, paler than the moon's rays shining down on us. Her lips and nipples are the same colour red. Her beauty is timeless, striking and breathtaking. In my early days, they would have written songs about her, they would have worshipped her beauty and begged for a taste. Even I am not unaffected, my long since dormant need rises to the surface with a vengeance, screaming at me to take this creature, to make her mine, and fuck her in a way only a divine creature of lust, fertility, animals, and the underworld can. I have been called many things, god, monster, even savior, but I would go by any name this creature in front of me whispers from those red plump lips. I wonder if she sounds as enchanting as she looks. I have the insane urge to converse with her, just to see if it is true, but my voice is rough and my throat does not seem to want to utter words, so long unused that the concept is foreign.

  While I have been watching her, she has been watching me, and instead of flinching away from my appearance, she seems curious.

  “What are you?”

  Three words, I savor them, running her velvety voice through my head as they burrow into me, claiming parts of me I didn’t know existed anymore.

  “A monster,” I reply, my raspy, unused voice like the darkness around us, powerful and all-encompassing, my power leaking out like I am a young shifter, not one a thousand years old. What is it about this creature that fascinates me so and causes me to lose my infamous control?

  “You are beautiful,” she says softly, running her eyes over me again.

  Frowning, I look down at myself. I have been called many things in this form, horrifying, too powerful to behold, a creature of nightmares, but never... beautiful. Her mind must have been warped from the trauma of her mortal body dying. Yes, that must be it. Now if she had seen my human body, I could agree with her, that form is pleasing to the human eye and hides my monstrous side, while allowing me to walk among the humans, even if I can’t blend in. Humans can sense the power. Besides, an almost seven foot man does not fit in well.

  I still when she crawls towards me, that body moving in a mesmerising way before she sits close enough to touch, a soft delicate hand flutters over my left arm, my eyes snap to the creature, as I realize she has shifted closer to me, her petal soft hand touching me. I have killed beings for less, but I find myself leaning into her touch, seeing what she will do.

  “What are they?” she muses, running her hand along my torcs which I have tied to my arms, tired of holding them. I don't answer, too busy watching her pale fingers against my dark skin. Where I am the shade of wet soil at harvest, she is the color of white sandy beaches. Her hand runs up my shoulder and along my face, trailing a sensual path until she reaches my head and then circles my antlers, making me shiver. More torcs hang from them but she seems more interested in touching my antlers.

  “They are like a deer’s,” she murmurs to herself before her fingers run back down my forehead and circle my eye. “So bright, like the moon has been trapped in them, there isn't even any pupil, they’re just... white.”

  I sit completely still as she discovers my body, not wanting to break the spell in case she runs screaming, or worse, pulls away. My body likes the feel of her touching me, leaning into her like the flower does to the sun. Her fingers run along the cool metal of my ornate neck ring and down my wide chest, circling the golden markings on my skin. Her fingers stop and she sits back, and I find myself missing the heat of her skin. She touched me so delicately, like I am something precious.

  “Is this your form? Like I am human? You must be something else,” she asks, crossing her legs until our knees touch. I find myself craving that touch more than I should, maybe it has been too long since another being touched me. Yes, that must be it.

  “Yes and no,” I reply, not apologising for the rough, harsh quality of my voice, but she doesn't seem to care if the shiver of her body and tightening of her nipples are anything to go by. Interesting, it has been a long time since I had a human, but the unmistakable waft of desire from her has me clenching my fingers into the dirt, anchoring me.

  “You have more than one?” she says, those lips curving up into a smile, which I can't seem to look away from. I would do anything for her to bestow another on me. I wonder if I would be lost if I heard her laugh. Would it wrap around me, weaving me in its spell? Maybe she is a witch, or a siren.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  She doesn't seem to care about my abrupt answer. “Can I see them?” she asks, her eyes burning with excitement.

  “You would not like one of my other forms,” I warn, knowing it would cause this delicate creature to scream in terror and flee, and I don’t want that to happen just yet.

  “What about the other?” she asks.

  “Human.” I lower my head and watch her body, my eyes unable to look away even if I wanted to.

  “Humans are so boring, I think I prefer this one,” she says and a tinkle of a laughter escapes, like th
e birds on the wind, the beauty unparalleled.

  “Humans crave beauty, you would prefer me in that form,” I find myself saying.

  She shakes her head. “Humans may be beautiful on the outside, but underneath there is only rot and hatred, it corrupts them and all that beauty is pointless.” Without waiting for me to reply she carries on, “What is your name?”

  “Names have power,” I caution, knowing it was once used against me and I will not make the same mistake again, not even for this bewitching creature.

  “I’m Dawn,” she says with a soft smile, as if trying to comfort a scared animal, is that what I am to her?

  “The second most beautiful time of the day, when the sun burns through the sky, alighting the darkness and signaling another night survived.” I don't know why the words slip out, but I don’t take them back.

  “I always preferred the night,” she replies with a laugh, she looks at her lap and sighs. “How am I alive and why am I not panicking more over the fact that I awoke in my own grave with a creature of the night pulling me from the soil?” she muses like she is talking to herself, and I do not have the answers so I don’t reply. I don’t know how she is alive, or what she is.

  “You are not human,” I summarise, my ears twitching at the animal sneaking closer, obviously as curious about Dawn as I am.

  She blows out a breath, making her cheeks round adorably. “I figured as much, humans can’t survive being gutted. Do you know what I am?” she asks, looking at me for help. Like a punch to my stomach, I find myself wanting to give her comforting words that other creatures seem to seek, but I will not lie to her. “I do not know. I have never met another like you, that feels or smells like you.”

  “Well, at least you don't bullshit me,” she grins, her eyes focusing on the snake curling itself up my arm and around my shoulder to stare at her.

  “It will not hurt you, it is curious,” I say, stroking its scaly skin.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, watching it. I look down and I have to agree, its scales are an iridescent green that seems to shine in the light, and its eyes are the colour of gold.

  “Most deadly things are quite beautiful. Their beauty used to entice their prey,” I murmur as it slinks down my arms and curls in my lap, watching her as if bewitched as I am.

  She watches the snake as I watch her, a frown tugging at those lips and crinkles appearing in her forehead. “I can’t remember how I died, or how I got here. Every time I try, a shard digs into my brain.”

  “Of course, your mind is trying to protect you from the truth. It is a human sentiment,” I add, and unable to help myself I stroke the snake, catching the softness of her leg as I do.

  “I want to remember.” Her voice tightens with anger.

  “Why?” I ask, curious.

  “Would you not? Someone killed me and buried me in the forest, they betrayed and hurt me. Would you not want to know if you had enemies?”

  I nod, my antlers ringing in the wind. “I can help, if you wish,” the offer slips out.

  “You can?” She eyes me curiously, her hand raising and petting the snake between us, stopping as it covers my hand there. I jolt from the feeling, like my very soul is clambering to get to her. I see the same truth in her eyes, she feels it too. This connection, this feeling of need.

  “Close your eyes, this might hurt,” I warn, and leaning forward, I suck in some more of her addicting scent, while touching my fingertip lightly to her forehead, letting my magic curl through me to her, and pushing away the darkness shrouding her memories until she can see everything. Her eyes snap open, filled with pain, fury, and sadness. Mourning for the life and innocence she lost. I see the memories clashing in her mind as I watch her being betrayed by the human who vowed to love her.

  Her mouth opens and a scream of terror and agony pours out, rolling through the forest and into the world like a plea, as she relives her own death. It seems to echo into the night, calling to the darkness in me, and begging for the monsters of the night to save her.

  My chains slither across the floor as I tug, pulling taut from the steel cylinders they are wrapped around. There are six altogether. One per hand and foot. One around my neck and one around my middle. The only reason I haven’t broken free from them is because they are enchanted. Not even the strongest metal could contain an animal like me, I am the monster of the Labyrinth that the humans crafted stories about, the terrifying creature they fear above all others. No maze, no human, not even the gods could enslave me... but working together?

  I can’t remember how long I have been locked down here, left to rot, forgotten like a relic of the past. My animal half takes over my mind more each day as it bellows for freedom, for a taste of blood from the people who betrayed him. The ones who chained him, imprisoned him, and left him.

  I let my animalistic side take over long ago, not in body, of course, the chains won’t allow me to shift. Instead, I’ve retreated into the darkness of my beast’s mind. It is better than my human mind, which is going crazy from the unending solitude and absolute darkness. I have only my hearing to rely on down here in the catacombs, hidden beneath the city with only one way in or out. I was left in a pit, a hole in the ground with walls so high they reach the floor of the city, surrounded by steel structures erected to contain me. I tug on the chains again and they tighten with a hiss, the magic bubbling as if it fights my strength. I have been testing them for years, probably around four hundred though it is hard to count, they have started to weaken, cracks appearing in the magic and steel. Magic is not made to last forever, it needs to be reapplied. They will be back soon—they can sense when the cracks occur—to contain me once again, not wanting to risk their nightmarish creation escaping into the world.

  I feel the blood running freely from my many wounds caused by the chains, which only enrages my bull further. He roars for their blood, for every drop we lose he thirsts for a pint of theirs. Soon, I remind him, begging for his patience. I sense a change in the air, something is coming and with it, so will my freedom and the ability to kill once more. I will seek revenge on those who betrayed us, who imprisoned us. I will not stop until my horns and hooves are covered in their traitorous blood and gore—a gruesome aftermath of their murders, which I will commit when I avenge my captors. They will remember.

  The monster always wins.

  My bull perks up, quieting down for once, his roaring stopping in my head. What do you sense? I ask, receiving no answer as he paces inside of it, nudging to be let out. What? I question again, only to receive a prod for my words.

  Then I feel it.

  A call.

  Not just any call, her call.

  It wraps around me, cooing at both my beast and me, restarting my heart and kicking my emotions into overdrive. My body hardens, my cock with it, and everything comes back with snap. The colours, the sounds, like I have been living in the grey—and now I am whole.

  I let it wrap around me, cradling my magic. It begs for me, so filled with pain and horror that my beast pushes through my body, something which hasn't happened since the beginning when I was a young calf. He doesn't wait for me to call him, instead, he pulls through my body, changing me. Once my shift is complete, my head falls back and I let out a roar of anguish.

  She needs me.

  Uncaring of the pain or magic, I rip free from the chains, a feat only a bond could attain. I feel the steel rip through skin and fur, trying to contain me, but it can’t. Not anymore. I have a new purpose.

  Once free, I waste no time, following the tugging in my soul, which leads me up and out. My beast allows me to shift my legs back once more and I begin climbing the walls. I huff in anger, anger that she is alone and in pain, while I wasted away down here. Smoke bellows from my snout, the black tendrils curling around the stone, eroding it. My horns scratch into the stone as I climb and my golden armband squeezes into my chained muscles, reminding me of what I am—a monster.

  When I reach the top, I shift my legs back and ch
arge through the winding hallways, leading me up to my freedom. I ram into a gate and roar again as it stops me, halting my progress. Not for long. Letting the call fuel me, I rip the twisted metal and the magic binding it, and then I smell freedom for the first time in over half a millennia.

  I let loose a deep bellow into the night, causing the animals around to halt their calls and the humans to shiver in their homes, but it is for her. To let her know I am coming. Anyone who has hurt her will feel the wrath of my monster.

  The deep darkness of my eternal slumber falters for a moment. I ignore the tug and retreat into the comforting nothingness, but it comes again. Snorting, I roll over, which traps my wings uncomfortably beneath me. I retract the leathery appendages back into my body, returning to my human form, and snuggle back into my nest to sleep. It comes again. Groaning at the irritant, I slit open one eye and glance around my cave to see what has disturbed me, I picked this isolated spot for a reason. To retreat from a world I no longer understand, high up in the mountains where no one can find me. I am hidden away in nature, forgotten... so what woke me?

  The tug is persistent, pulling at my magic and soul. I open my other eye and jump to my feet, the muscles collapsing after weeks and months of disuse. I wonder how long I have been asleep. The smells around me are familiar but other than that, everything feels foreign, like the very world I had existed in is gone.