by Rene Folsom
“But it must not be true love,” she insisted, running a clawed hand through her hair. “Otherwise—”
“Karoline, stop!” I shouted, feeling a surge of anger rise up within me. The pain was likely causing my short temper, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. “I do love you! I don’t understand why that’s so hard for you to believe.”
“Because I still look like this!” She swung her arms up, showing off her naked, furry form. “I’m still a beast! And the damn witch said that when I found true love, I would be freed of this curse!”
“Then she must have lied,” I retorted. “Otherwise it would have worked, because I fucking love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I realized who you truly are underneath the animalistic mask.”
“Yeah, so the human me, right?” she spat.
“No!” I growled, clenching my fists. The throbbing in my back was spurring me on, and I couldn’t cap my building frustration. “The real you. I didn’t fall in love with either of your faces—I fell in love with who you are on the inside. The sweet, caring Karoline. The Karoline who wrote that manuscript, who has a library that could make even Stephen King jealous, who would rather I leave her than chance hurting me… the Karoline I first kissed. I’m in love with you, not your looks. Why can’t you just understand?”
She didn’t say anything to that. Instead, she just stared at me in stunned silence, processing my words. My frustration having been abated, I took a calming breath and waited for her reply. I was certain I had finally made my point, making her realize that I truly was in love with her.
“Beau…”
I held my breath to hear what she had to say, but before she could get the words out, a loud, banging noise echoing down the hall had our heads snapping to attention.
We both jumped at the sound, a wince rupturing through my body as the pain in my back amped up at the movement.
“What the hell was that?” I grunted, wiping sweat from my brow. The towel Karoline had pressed against my wounds helped stifle the blood loss, but I was still beginning to feel a little woozy.
“Someone’s banging on the front door,” she said, her eyes wide and her ears twitching as she listened to the pounding increase in intensity. I imagined the sound must be amplified for her. “Who could possibly be all the way out here?”
“Didn’t you say you had people deliver things to you before? A private company or whatever?” I inquired.
“They aren’t scheduled to come any time soon,” she said, shaking her head. “Stay here. I’ll go see—”
The sound of the front door being smashed apart echoed throughout the house, cutting off her words.
The Mob
Karoline’s warning to stay behind went unheeded as I followed her down the stairs and into the main foyer. I struggled with slipping my pants on to cover my nudity while keeping the towels pressed against my back. Even though they rubbed against my wounds and sent little jolts of pain down my legs and up my shoulders, I knew I had to keep them in place for now.
Despite my bravado earlier, I was genuinely worried about what I should do about my back. The wounds were throbbing more and more with each step I took, and I was beginning to feel the oncoming sensation of a blackout creeping up on me.
When we reached the foyer, my stomach sank as a sight I never thought I’d see again greeted us.
“Dad?”
Standing in front of the entrance to the house—the door having been smashed through, littering the floor in splintering pieces of wood—was a group of four people led by none other than my father, Bill Shapiro, his red baseball cap making him stand out amongst the crowd.
The astonishment at seeing my father again was short-lived though after my eyes scanned the crowd, and I found my shock turning to pure terror.
Pop was leading three other people into the house, all of them familiar faces, and all of them brandishing weapons.
The first person I noticed was my best bud, Barry. He was wearing his old high school backpack, one of the straps broken so it hung lopsidedly off only one shoulder. In his hand, he was gripping his father’s polished machete—the one he was explicitly told time and time again by his parents never to touch. His father sharpened it nearly every weekend to make its tip glisten until it was dangerously fine.
Next, I noticed Gabriella. She was looking particularly pissed, dressed like someone out of the Crocodile Hunter, with thick-pocketed cargo shorts and a light camouflage vest. I could only imagine that she dressed up like that thinking she’d have a grand ol’ time hiking through the woods, only to discover the thicket was filled with more mosquitos than anyone cared to mention. In her hand, she had a loose grip on a revolver, the tip pointed directly at her foot. I could easily surmise that it was not her own gun, nor that she knew how to use it.
The third person took me a second to recognize. Wielding a large bowie knife was the counter clerk I spoke to at Mount Ivy Bookstore, Claire.
Standing in front of them all was my pop, wearing a large hiking backpack and clutching his old bolt-action Remington hunting rifle.
“Beau!” His face brightened at seeing me, but the second he glanced over to Karoline, his features darkened once again.
“Holy shit! There really is a beast!” Barry exclaimed, his eyes wide behind his thin glasses.
“I told you,” Pop said, a slightly satisfied note in his voice. “She’s real, and she took my son!”
“Dad, what are you doing?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the gun in his hands. The thing was old, a model thirty-three bolt-action rimfire rifle. I think I’d seen my pop hold it once in my entire lifetime, and it was only to explain to me that I was to never try and find it in the garage. It was more of a family heirloom, my paternal grandfather having used it during his days of hunting. He gave it to my dad long ago in the hopes he’d put it to good use. Unfortunately, my pop was too much of a book nerd to ever really comprehend the joys of hunting, so the gun collected dust in the garage for all these years—until now.
“We’re here to take you home, Beau,” he said, determination burning in his eyes. “Nobody would believe me when I told them you were taken, especially not the police—”
“You told people about me?” Karoline gasped, her shoulders beginning to shake out of anger. Her body took a more defensive stance, crouching low as if ready to pounce at any moment.
“Of course I did!” he barked. “You stole my son! What was I going to do? Just move on with my life?”
“You broke our agreement…” I said, shaking my head in sadness and defeat. “You were supposed to stay quiet. I was willing to give my life to let you live, and you didn’t respect that.”
“What father would abandon his own child?” he retorted. He gestured to the three others behind him. “These are the only people who would listen and help me look for you.”
“It’s been a hellish two days,” Gabriella said, the sour look on her face highlighting the bug bite between her honey-brown eyes. “We searched all through this godforsaken forest for you. Thank god we stumbled upon this house. The scratch marks just outside the door gave you away, princess,” she said, antagonizing Karoline even more.
“Don’t you dare speak to her,” I roared, drowning out Karoline’s growl in response to Gabby’s comment.
“I have every right to speak after walking all that way because she chose to mess with you,” she spat back, flipping her hair in defiance.
“Yeah, I was seriously ready to give up after the first mile,” Barry added, and then immediately flustered. “Not that we were just going to abandon you, man.”
Barry’s awkwardness made me want to smile, but I held it in. This was not the time for humor.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I said with as much authority as I could muster. “I’m perfectly fine here with Karoline.”
“Karoline?” My dad’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “It has a name?”
“I am not an it!” Karoline roared while straightening her s
pine and taking a stance next to me, her eyes seeming to glow with predatory rage.
“Then what are you?” Claire spoke up, having remained quiet this whole time. “I’ve never seen anything like you…”
“Please,” I tried to reason. “There’s no reason to start a fight. I’m fine here. She won’t hurt me—”
“Bullshit!” Gabriella shouted, pointing with her free hand at me. “Look what it has done to you!”
My face paled as everyone glanced down at the bloody towels I had pressed against my back. Though I never really could get past the pain, the commotion had me momentarily forgetting my wounds were visible.
“What has it done to you?” Pop demanded, gripping his rifle tighter.
I turned to Karoline, seeing the guilty look appear on her face and wishing I could do something to ease her mind. Wincing, I cursed inwardly, damning the horrible timing of my father’s rescue mission.
“It was just an accident,” I tried to explain, but it was too late.
“This ends here!” Pop screamed.
I was unprepared for what happened next as my dad raised his rifle and fired. The sound nearly deafened me, the single crack! of the gun reverberating through my skull and down my neck. Thankfully, Karoline was much more alert and agile than I was. She dove out of the way, the bullet obliterating the banister of the stairway behind her.
Now I was more than thankful my dad never became much of a hunter. Otherwise, it was very possible he wouldn’t have missed that shot.
“Dad! No!” I yelled, the ringing in my ears nearly debilitating. Pressure began to build in my head, my equilibrium thrown off balance. I tried to take a step forward, but ended up falling to my knees.
“I’ve got her!” Barry’s voice reached my ears as the ringing began to die down. I used every ounce of energy I had left to focus on my bud while he raced toward Karoline, her body crouched down onto her haunches in defense. He raised the machete over his head like some sort of tribal warrior, yelling as he ran.
Unfortunately for my friend, he was no warrior. Karoline saw him coming before he even started advancing toward her. Catching his wrist just as he swung the machete, she twisted it, halting him mid-stride. His cries of pain filled the house, dropping the blade to the ground and falling to a knee. Karoline then balled her hand and punched him across the temple, effectively knocking him unconscious.
As much as I was glad Karoline was able to defend herself, I was still upset people were getting hurt, fighting because of me. I just wanted it all to stop, but I was becoming too weak with pain to focus amidst all the chaos.
“Shoot her!” Claire screamed, shoving Gabriella, who still held a pistol in a slack position. The dark-haired girl glared at the bookstore clerk before raising her revolver at Karoline. She wasn’t ready for the kickback of the handgun though, the force of it sending her arm up into the air and nearly knocking her on her ass.
Karoline didn’t have to dodge this bullet, as it went wide and punctured one of the steps in the stairway. She gave a feral growl, lunging at Gabriella with her claws spearing out in front of her.
“Karoline, stop!” I yelled, pushing myself back onto my feet and chasing after her. Her fighting back would only exacerbate the situation, and I wanted everyone to just stop hurting each other.
“Get down, Gabriella!” my pop commanded, swinging his rifle around toward Karoline. Before he could lock the bolt into place, I slammed my shoulder into him, sending him toppling off his feet. The hit sent jolts of pain through my body as more blood dripped out of my wounds, nausea permeating my senses with the agony of the impact. I fought through it though, doing my best to wrestle the gun out of my father’s hands.
As I fought with my dad, Karoline reached Gabriella and Claire, making quick work of them. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she backhanded Claire to the ground, having easily sidestepped the woman’s jab with her knife. Spinning around, Karoline slammed her elbow into Gabriella’s face, her ninja-like moves coming in handy. Claire and Gabriella writhed on the ground, their weapons being kicked away as Karoline snarled and barred her fangs at them.
“Beau, get off me!” my dad yelled.
I was distracted with watching Karoline, giving him the chance to smack me across the head and push me off. Groaning, the world spun around me as vomit threatened to surge, making me defenseless in my attempt to stop the fighting. I was losing too much blood, especially now that the towels I had against my back fell away, and the stress of the situation wasn’t helping. With the debilitating pain riddling my body, I felt close to passing out any moment.
“Beau!” I could barely hear Karoline’s voice cutting through the thickening fog in my head. Struggling, I tried desperately to gain my bearings and push myself up, but the strength in my muscles seemed to be sapping quick.
“Why are you trying so hard to protect the beast?” my dad demanded, huffing as he pulled his rifle up. “It kidnapped you, and it scarred you.”
“She’s…” I panted, trying to catch my breath. “She’s not an it… she’s a person.”
A look of confusion crossed my dad’s features. “Why does it matter? Why are you fighting me? She’s the one who hurt you!”
“No, the only thing that could hurt me is losing her. My wounds were nothing but an accident,” I defended. Looking over to Karoline, I saw her standing there stiff as a board. She was obviously uncomfortable with a gun being pointed at her, as any other human would be.
“Doesn’t look like an accident to me,” he said tightly.
“Please, Mr. Shapiro…” Karoline tried to speak to him, reason with him like any person would, but at the sound of her voice, my father raised the gun in an even more threatening manner than before.
“Pop, stop it!” I roared. “I love her!”
My words made him pause. He turned his gaze on me, all while keeping his stance square and the gun trained on Karoline. “You what?”
“I love her,” I said, forcing more authority into my voice, despite my breathlessness due to the pain. “I do, so please… don’t hurt her.”
He hesitated, lowering the rifle slightly at my confession.
“You honestly love… her?”
I nodded. “Yes, I do. More than you can ever imagine.”
He frowned, turning back to Karoline, disbelief riddling his aged features. Following my father’s actions, I switched my gaze toward her as well and froze at what I saw.
Karoline was so focused on me that she didn’t notice Gabriella was still conscious. She crawled slowly toward her revolver, glancing at Karoline every few seconds to make sure she wasn’t paying attention.
“Shit,” I grunted, feeling a surge of energy course through me at the need to protect my love. With my newfound strength, I pushed myself up and ran. “Karoline, watch out!”
Karoline spun just in time to see Gabriella grab the revolver and aim it at her. Before she could pull the trigger, I placed myself between them, my arms held wide to shield Karoline.
“Gabriella, don’t do it!” I yelled, sweat dripping down my cheek. I felt sick and weak, but I refused to let my beloved Karoline be hurt.
“Get out of the way, Beau,” Gabriella demanded, standing up to steady her aim. “I’m going to end this insanity.”
“I won’t let you hurt her,” I said sternly, my heart running rampant with the tension boiling over in the room.
“I’ll shoot through you if I have to,” she said, gripping the gun tighter with both hands, her inexperience obvious as her hands shook. “Anything to get this over with.”
I couldn’t stifle my gasp at her flippant and uncaring answer. “Are you fucking mad?”
“I’m tired,” Gabriella spat, her self-centered attitude coming to the surface with utter perfection. “I’m dirty, I smell, I’m covered in bug bites, and the guy I’ve been trying to land is choosing some beast over me!”
“Put the gun down, Gabriella,” my dad said. “You aren’t going to shoot my son.”
&nb
sp; The woman seriously had no compassion for anyone but herself. “I might shoot you for having brought me out here,” she said, glaring at him.
That was her mistake, to look away from her target. In that moment, as she glared at my father, Karoline moved.
She was a blur in my vision, moving swiftly as she spun around me, charging at Gabriella and crashing into her—hard. Letting loose a bestial roar, Karoline began to wrestle for the gun.
“Karoline!” I raced forward to save her, to push her out of the way… something… but it was too late.
The sound of the gun firing was not as loud as my father’s rifle, but it was still deafening enough to rattle my soul. Blood flew into the air as the bullet entered Karoline’s chest and exited out the other side. With a gurgled gasp, she fell off Gabriella, clutching at her bleeding chest.
“Got you, bitch!” Gabriella cried in triumph, standing over the writhing Karoline. “Try to fuck with me again and you’ll—”
Gabriella didn’t get to finish her gloating as Pop brought the butt of his rifle down on the side of her head, effectively shutting her up. She was unconscious before she even hit the floor.
“Prissy bitch,” he grumbled.
With the danger now gone, I closed the distance between us, kneeling by Karoline’s side to scoop her up into my arms.
“Christ, Karoline,” I said, pulling her close to inspect her wound. The hole in her chest was the size of my thumbprint, dark blood oozing from the wound freely. I pressed my hand against it to try and stifle the flow, feeling entirely out of control as I watched her suffer. “Why would you throw yourself at her like that?”
“She was going to shoot you,” she said, gasping and coughing with each word as a trickle of blood dripped from the side of her lip. “How was I supposed to… just let that happen?”
“But…” With tears already welling up in my eyes, the pain, both physical and emotional, was becoming too much to bear. “You’re dying…”