THE BEAST OF BRENTON WOODS
Jackson R. Thomas
The Beast of Brenton Woods
Copyright © Jackson R. Thomas
First Electronic Edition
Alien Agenda Publishing, 2018
Edited by Erin Sweet Al-Mehairi
Original Cover Art by “Flobby Bobby”
EBook Cover Layout by Alien Agenda Publishing
Print Cover Layout by Jason Lynch
Thanks to all the people behind the scenes that helped to put this book together. If not for you guys, it would have never left my computer.
Dedicated to those who hear the call…
Return of the Beast
CHAPTER ONE
The eyes in the dark shouldn’t have been there. Twin yellow moons peered at him. Ben’s heart pounded, and his mind zig-zagged in ten different directions. He couldn’t decide whether to scream, run, or piss his pants.
“Ben, are you there? Come in, over.”
Tyler’s voice seemed to explode in the darkness. Ben scrambled for the walkie-talkie on his hip, dropping it in the process.
A hulking shape shuffled through the trees.
“Ben? What are you doing, man? You’re freaking me out. Over.”
A low, guttural sound rumbled from behind the trees to his right. Ben slowly crouched and picked up the cheap communication device he’d gotten last week for his birthday.
I’m only thirteen. I’m too young to die, right?
He rose, taking cautious steps backwards. He prayed Tyler would stay silent.
The thing before him stood— a towering, white, furry monster among the pines and hemlocks.
Ben pressed the TALK button beneath his thumb. “Tyler, RUN!”
With that, Ben turned and hauled ass. A ferocious growl accompanied a loud, thunderous crack behind him.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” Ben cried.
Branches smacked him in the face and the toes of his Chuck Taylor’s seemed to seek out every root on the ground. He stumbled, but managed to maintain his footing as he barreled through the woods.
He didn’t want to look back, but forced himself to do so. He couldn’t tell if the creature was still in pursuit, and he couldn’t hear anything over the noise he was making, but there was no way in hell he was slowing down.
Right then, he crashed into something and went sprawling to the forest floor.
“Jesus, Ben, what the hell?” Tyler said.
“Get up, get up,” Ben said hurrying to his feet and grabbing his friend by the arm.
“What? What is it?”
“Just go!” He shoved Tyler forward. They didn’t stop. Not even when they broke past the tree line and raced by the tent in Ben’s backyard. Ben ripped the backdoor open and practically dove inside. Tyler rushed in behind him before slamming the door shut.
“Lock it!” Ben said.
Tyler did as he was told.
“Ben? What are you boys up to?” Ben’s mom peeked her head into the kitchen.
“Mom, there’s something…” he tried to catch his breath. “There’s—” He bit back the word monster–There’s an animal…something huge out there. It chased us.”
She came into the kittchen holding a glass of red wine, dressed in sweats and her Red Sox t-shirt.
“Where? In the backyard?” she asked.
She started toward the door.
“No! Don’t open it,” Ben threw his body next to Tyler blocking the door.
“Stop it, Ben. You’re starting to creep me out,” she said, placing her glass on the table. “Now move away from there.”
“Mom, I…I don’t know what it was, but it was big and it…it was coming after me.” He questioned this even as he said it. Had it chased him? It certainly felt like it.
“Benjamin Oliver Cutter, move.”
Tyler ducked and got behind her. Ben knew when all three names came out of mom’s mouth, you did what you were told or suffered the wrath of Susan Cutter.
He stepped aside. “Please, just don’t go out--”
His mother unlocked the door and opened it.
Ben and Tyler peeked over her shoulders searching the yard.
“Hello?” his mom said.
The perfectly clear night didn’t even whisper a reply.
“Well,” she said.
A howl called out from somewhere far off in the distance, deep back in the forest.
“I want you boys sleeping inside tonight. Understood?”
They both nodded as they retreated, giving her space to come back in. She closed the door and locked it, before walking to the fridge to fetch her box of wine.
Ben watched as she refilled her glass and took a sip.
“You want to stay down here with me and watch a scary movie?” she asked.
Ben saw the weak smile crawl over Tyler’s face. “Nah, I think we’ve had enough monsters for the night. We’re just gonna go to my room and play some video games.”
“Not too late, okay?”
“Sure, Mom.”
“If you boys change your minds, I’m gonna settle in down here and watch American Werewolf in London.”
He usually loved his mother’s twisted sense of humor, but as he thought about those yellow eyes, the horrible growl, and the shape rising among the shadows, he found it hard to crack a smile.
…..
Susan Cutter’s brave front disintegrated after the boys went upstairs. She didn’t want to think about the grave possibilities Ben’s ramblings could mean. She walked to the living room window and gazed out at the backyard. Was it out there? Was it back?
Oh God, what did it want with her son?
It wasn’t possible. Scott was gone. And so too, the legend of the Beast of Brenton Woods. Susan dropped the blind and returned to the couch and her box of wine. There was no way she’d be getting to sleep tonight until the box was emptied.
Rather than the werewolf classic she’d joked with Ben about, Susan put on Downton Abbey and tried not to think about the secrets she’d been living with.
…..
Up in Ben’s room, Tyler started up the PlayStation and gathered up the controllers.
“Not yet, man.” Ben said. He walked by Tyler and stepped to his bedroom window. Up above the trees against the pure black of night, rested a bright eye in the sky. His gaze cast to the woods. Whatever it is, it’s out there. Somewhere.
“Should we go to the tent and get our stuff?” Tyler said, sitting at the edge of Ben’s bed.
“No. We can get it in the morning.”
“Okay, well, are you gonna tell me what the heck happened?”
Ben turned around. “Dude, this is freaking crazy.”
“What? What did you see?”
His mind screamed its name. Werewolf.
“My dad told me once about these woods.” Ben thought back to that moment with his father. His dad always seemed larger than life and a mountain among everyone else in his young life. But that day, he seemed like a regular guy. Weak, scared, and small.
“He told me that back when he was a kid in the eighties, two young girls were found mangled up by the creek. The authorities said it was an animal that attacked them, but never what kind. My dad said he’d seen it, and that it was no regular animal.”
Tyler inched forward on the bean bag.
“He was camping out there with his older cousin, Skinny, when they heard it howl. They were by the Point, ya know, where Jeff Carew and Freddy Kendall had their old fort, remember?”
Tyler nodded.
“Well, dad said they were scared shitless, but after what happened to those girls, he had to try to see it. I think he thought he could help catch the killer.”
“What? Your dad
was nuts.”
“I know, right? But he says they walked out to the edge and got halfway down the pass, when he saw it. The beast was standing down there with its huge back to them. Fur white as snow. They booked it back home just like you and me tonight.”
“Jesus.”
“He said he only saw it that one time.”
“Okay, you just, like, made that all up, right?” Tyler said.
Ben shook his head from side to side.
“Come on.”
“I always thought he told me that story to keep me from going off too far, ya know? But I…I saw it, man. I saw it, out there tonight.”
Goose bumps came alive up and down his arms.
“Holy shit, what are we gonna do now?” Tyler said.
Ben gazed out at the full moon. His father’s words replaying in his head: Two young girls found mangled by the creek…
“I don’t know, man.”
CHAPTER TWO
For Conway Yates, the night was the only time he felt comfortable. He often wished he could find a way to make its beauty last all day. The peace, the quiet, both seemed to struggle against the wants and needs of daytime folks. If vampires existed, they would have the ultimate life. Live by the moon, surviving on the blood of so many useless and pathetically distracted men and women. He hated to be nasty. Not all people were self-centered assholes.
Conway sipped from the tumbler of scotch. He always had a glass on the back porch at midnight. Rain or snow, he’d set in his rocker, have his drink, and say hello to Heaven. A damn shame that most didn’t realize paradise could be found if they just know where to look. Tonight was clear as they come. His favorite, though he didn’t mind a nice rain storm or even watching fat snowflakes drift down from the sky. But when it was nothing but twinkling star lights against the perfect blackness, he could howl at the moon. Vampires, werewolves…he loved monsters–they knew about the night. He nourished his appreciation for the darker side of literature for hours every night. No less than two hours with a book prior to his drink on the porch and no less than another two hours when he came back in. Right now, he was nearing the end of Jack Ketchum’s OFF SEASON. It featured a different type of monster—man, the scariest of them all.
He was nearly finished with his drink when a deer stepped out from the woods next to his shed. Black eyes gazed straight at him, yet were so calm the animal seemed rather flippant about his presence. He’d always had a way with nature, with all things nocturnal, really. From his tenting days as a kid, all the way up through now, they seemed to sense his love and disposition for serenity. The glorious creature stepped into the yard before being startled by something in the shadows behind it.
Conway swallowed the last of his scotch, set the glass down, and leaned his elbows on his creaky knees. The devil could come stomping from the forest and Conway still wouldn’t be able to hop up and run. His track days were decades and decades behind him. He sat, quiet and still, waiting to see what the deer would do. Or what exactly had its haunches up.
Everything fell silent. The cicadas, the frogs, the owls…his skin broke out in goose flesh. A voice inside told him he should forget about the deer and the thing in the dark and just head back to his book.
And lock the door behind you.
The deer hadn’t moved. Paralyzed by…what?
Conway started to rise, his knees both tightened and creaked, vocalizing his arthritis. The crack of wood and the growl that reverberated across the yard and into his chest made him freeze. He was now short of breath. Oh Lord, no…. not now. A pain shot up his left arm as his right knee gave out, dropping him to the porch. The deer broke across the yard followed by a shadowy blur of fur.
He listened to the wet thud and the animalistic grunting coming from his lawn, but he couldn’t see what was happening. His heart felt like a stone in his chest. He moaned, regretting it instantly.
The beast appeared in his blurring vision. A mountain of viscous stone, thick and daunting, the wolf man climbed the steps; blood coated its white muzzle and spread a grisly map across its massive chest. Conway remembered something his memories had somehow misplaced—The Beast of Brenton Woods. The white wolf. And this was to be his final thought as the raging monster arched its back and howled into the night. The heart attack was taking him, but not before the fangs crunched into the side of his head and came away with half his face.
The beauty of the night sky went out.
CHAPTER THREE
“Fuck you, jack ass,” Bryan said. “If anyone is getting to fuck Lucy, it’s me.”
“In your dreams,” Johnny said. “She wouldn’t touch your tiny pecker if you paid her.”
Wendy watched her brother and Bryan shove each other. Boys. Their crude talk about Lucy Monteith didn’t bother her. Lucy was a slut that would probably sleep with both. White trash as far as Wendy was concerned. She downed the rest of her beer and tossed it into the box next to the old cabin’s busted window. She got up and stretched as Bryan dragged Johnny through the open door and out into the overgrown driveway. She grabbed the cooler of beers and followed them out into the night.
“Shit, Bryan. That fucking hurt.”
“Aw, c’mon, don’t go being a big wet pussy on me now.”
“Fuck you,” Johnny said.
Wendy could see the blackness oozing from his mouth.
“Did you see that, sis? Asshole just drove my mouth into the goddamn dirt.”
He was ever the drama queen. Had been since they were kids, but even when their cousins used to try and toughen him up, Johnny would whine and run straight to their father.
“I think you’ll live,” she said She stepped next to him and handed him another cold one. The blood running down his chin looked like ink. It probably did hurt, but he just needed to suck it up.
He wiped the blood from his face on his t-shirt, accepted the drink, and popped the top when the howl broke the moment of peace.
Arrrooooo!
“Motherfucker,” Bryan said. “I knew we shouldn’t have come out this way tonight.”
Wendy did her best to keep the fright from her face and her voice. “Chill out,” she said, opening another beer and handing it to Bryan. “We’re in the woods. There are animals—”
Another howl.
“All right,” Johnny said. “That sounded a hell of a lot closer than the last one.”
Bryan walked past her, grabbed the cooler, and headed for his truck. “Nope, I’m not staying out here another minute.”
“Dude,” Wendy whined. She finished her beer and tossed the can through the busted window. “Seriously?”
“Come on, sis,” Johnny said. He pushed her toward the truck. “I know you always have to be the baddest bitch on the planet, but I’d rather head into town. We shouldn’t have come out here tonight.”
She was glad he said so first. She didn’t want to hang around any longer, either. Not with the stories. The white wolf was just a legend, but she didn’t feel like finding out firsthand that there was more to it than folklore.
“All right, let’s go,” she said.
“Come on already,” Bryan said from behind the wheel of the running F-150.
Wendy slid into the middle and Johnny got in next to her and slammed the door. With his arm out the window, he gave the door a slap and said, “Giddyup!”
Bryan tore ass down the muddy old road. The headlights dimmed as they were covered by the mess. Even as her ass came up off the seat, Wendy had faith in Bryan’s abilities behind the wheel, as he’d hammered back and forth on this road a million times.
“She’s a bumpy bitch tonight,” he said.
“Hey, man, just don’t get us fucking killed all right?” Johnny said.
“What the fuck?” Wendy said, leaning forward, steadying herself with her hands on the dash.
“What?” Johnny said.
The truck began to slow down.
“What are you doing?” Wendy said.
“I saw something, too. Up there,” Bryan
said, pointing to a swaying batch of birch trees to the right.
“Dude, you can’t stop here. There’s too much mud.”
The truck came to a halt.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Johnny said.
“Yeah, Bry, maybe you should just keep moving,” Wendy said.
“Yeah….yeah, you guys are probably right.” He let off the brake and revved the engine.
“Stop fucking around, man. Just go,” Johnny said.
“I am,” Bryan said.
The vehicle rocked back and forth, the front end slid to the right.
“No way,” Johnny said. “We’re fucking stuck. I knew it.”
Wendy shoved him. “Let’s get out and push,” she said.
“Fuck that.”
“We don’t even know that there’s anything out there. We could be freaking out for nothing.”
Her brother opened the door, and she followed him as they hurried around to the back.
“Okay,” Bryan shouted through the back window. “Just rock with me, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know how to do this. Not like we don’t do it every winter,” Wendy said.
He hit the gas, sending mud over them both. Unfazed, Wendy planted her boots in the ruined road and shoved forward. Letting the truck rock back, she and Johnny grunted as they gave it another good push. On the third try, the truck rose out of its pit and moved ahead. Wendy followed Johnny around the side, Bryan kept the vehicle moving to avoid getting stuck again. She followed her brother, jogging to keep up with the truck, she felt like they were pioneers trying to hop a train out of town. Johnny got the door open and jumped up, then he held the door with one hand and reached for hers. She grabbed hold as he helped pull her in.
Bryan sped up as they passed the place where they’d seen something moving in the trees.
Something massive exploded from the spot; something pale as the dead. It slammed into the rear of the truck and sent them fishtailing through the messy road. Bryan managed to correct it, and stamped on the gas.
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