The Beast In Me (The Beast And Me Book 2)

by D. S. Wrights

  There was no way that I could trust this situation. I had never done so; the Beast had never done so. And that was the only reason why I walked step by step, never taking my eyes off you, even though my ears waited for any metallic sound that would announce White’s interference.

  It never happened.

  I remember holding my breath as I reached out to touch your skin, your hips, and how I froze for a moment when I heard you sigh in relief.

  It was so tormenting, so painful to not simply take you in an instant, like I wanted to. The famished animal I was, I still am, when it comes to you.

  So instead I reminded myself of what I had done to you.

  I know that now.

  Guiding my clawed hands to your scars, my marks on your stomach, I forced myself to be slow and calm, because I wanted to punish myself.

  But it was a whole different punishment, because of the way you reacted. Your breath turned shallow, your knees became weak and your pulse sped up a little notch, just as your skin seemed to hum, begging for me to continue touching it.

  I can never think of those scars as something ultimately terrible now, because of how you love me touching them.

  I hate and love them just the same.

  Before I knew what I was doing I felt strands of your hair between my fingers right before they found your skin.

  I can feel your heartbeat racing against my fingertips just remembering it, and how you leaned your head away, exposing your neck, not being scared at all.

  I forgot what I was and I let go.

  What I recall first is your reaction to what I was doing, and it pulled me back to the surface of whatever trance I was in, reminding me of what I did, how I felt, what I wanted, how I needed you.

  It’s like driving backwards on a roller-coaster.

  My lips on your neck.

  My teeth against your skin.

  I could see that your eyes were closed as your head fell back against my shoulder, just like your weight shifted against me, your naked body shivering, almost ordering me to touch you.

  There was no way of resisting, not even a thought.

  Whatever fear had held me back before, yours or mine, and had made me feel like swimming through sand, it was not there, not even an idea of it.

  It felt like we weren’t even there, really.

  All I knew was your skin beneath my hands, your ragged breath accompanying their movements.

  You felt so cool against my hot fingers and I think I sensed a burning trail behind, making you catch for air. Knowing it was me was a sensation all of its own.

  And if there had been a spark of sanity left somewhere in my brain, it was gone the second my fingers sensed dampness.

  There was no doubt, not a bit room for it, knowing with such certainty that you wanted me just as bad as I wanted you. A desperate longing simply swallowed me whole. I can’t describe it any differently.

  Although I didn’t need any confirmation, those sounds you made just told me what I already knew. More than that: they were caressing whips telling me, demandingly, to go on and further, deeper.

  Even though I felt like I had to devour you, it was that part of me exactly that would have held back before, and not only the Beast, which needed to hear how you enjoyed what I did, every movement I made, because every noise of yours hunted ice and fire down my skin. I could feel your voice, almost as if it was my own. That was worth much more than rough and brute release.

  Still, it was torture. When you told me to go deeper, I felt like I would go too far. So, the only way was to go slow until you told me to stop. You didn’t. Instead, you rewarded me with another moan of yours, electrifying me.

  Your whisper I can barely recall, almost made me lose it, and all I could do was answer in the same language you had been speaking the whole time.

  And I didn’t sound like a monster, a Beast, I sounded human, like myself.

  I remember pulling you up, so I could feel more of your skin against mine, more of you around me, until I had to press you against the wall to continue.

  When I fell over the edge it felt like jumping, like flying, as if I was free for that moment.

  I still can’t believe that White let us have that.

  A moment of peace.

  As I placed your feet to the ground I sensed your movement, but I was too awed by what you had made me feel to hesitate, to jump back. I think, I wasn’t really ready to lose contact with your skin entirely.

  Why am I being dishonest?

  I wanted you to touch my face.

  I didn’t think about the possibilities, that it wasn’t human, that it was more beastly than it should be. I needed to feel your touch, I wanted it even more. A little bit of normalcy. Something so simple, a normal couple would share. Until I realized that we were everything but that.

  I ran away.

  Because I still am that monster that tore your skin open, and raped you. And I cannot even pretend anymore that all of what I did was the Beast’s fault. It is a part of me. So, I did all of these things to you. How could I deserve a moment of peace, or normalcy? It’s my fault that you will never again have those things.

  Day 127

  Ever since that dream, those early days seem to come back to me.

  Maybe it had started before.

  I can’t really tell.

  Maybe because I am beginning to accept what I really am, that I am both: Beast and human.

  * * *

  After that ‘session’ and the brief moment of humanity that you gave me, I expected them to punish me. I remember being on edge for the rest of the day.

  They just kept me locked up.

  No checkups, no visits, and no consequences.

  I couldn’t trust that.

  Never.

  Yet, nothing happened.

  And you can imagine how I felt when they brought me breakfast, like every morning, let me out into the pit to exercise and have a look at my comrades, like every morning, and have my shower.

  * * *

  You probably don’t know that the whole complex is a cube, with the pit in its center.

  I don’t really know if there is just one entrance or many from the outside, but the whole thing is like a big underground square atrium.

  Our cells and cages are arranged around it, so walking through those corridors would lead you around in a circle, or rather quadrat, unless you find one of the pathways to the outer circle.

  How do I know that?

  Beast vision can come in handy.

  And of course: ‘talking’ to my subordinates.

  Most of them are out of it, all of the time. Few of them seem to manage themselves somewhat when I am around even more so, ever since White brought you in.

  It seems like the more I get control over myself, the more they are as well. Maybe I inspire them, and maybe they just feel the need to follow my lead like they always have.

  Probably White is right about his pack theory.

  However, I was being able to see maps and hear the guards talking about the compound.

  It’s built in quadratic rings around the pit and there are at least two: The inner one containing the cells and cages, some medical rooms, gyms, showers, and an outer one with more laboratories, sleeping rooms, more gyms and showers for the guards, medical and science staff.

  Probably there is at least another outer ring, maybe with a garage, storage, generators and stuff.

  At least, that’s what I am assuming from what I’ve heard and it would make sense.

  So, to leave this place, you have to get to the third ring. And that is, seemingly, pretty much impossible.

  At least it’s how it appears to be.

  And of course, there are cameras everywhere, scanners for those bracelets, and – who knows – probably body scanners at the pathways to the next circles. One cannot really think of trying to break through the concrete and dig oneself through the dirt twice. Even if someone would be that crazy, it would take too much time. Apart from that someo
ne would need help from the inside, because you would have to have access to a room at the outer wall that no one would use for that amount of time...

  Seems hopeless, doesn’t it.

  I can’t recall if I ever have been to one of the outer rings. At least until now.

  All I do remember is waking up in my cell. Even this memory is cloudy, fragmented.

  I can’t tell if I will ever see these pictures clearly. And I honestly don’t know if I want to.

  Apart from my memories of you.

  * * *

  Dinner usually meant that I would soon get to go outside again, doing some exercise, running, whatever kept me distracted from thinking too much.

  Every time they caught me lurking somewhere, the guards made me run.

  They had stopped looking at us as if we were humans the day one of them got killed by getting too close.

  I remember that I started to sympathize with them.

  I guess that was the day my human side began to reclaim my body, my actions, and my mind.

  I was confused to hear something else than the gate to the pit being opened, but steps of two heavy persons marching and a lighter one trying to keep up.

  It was you, being dragged in. You, again, which was a break of rules they had set. I never saw you twice in a row until then.

  When realization struck me like lightning, all I felt was fear. Trying to figure out what this meant, was going way over my head. It didn’t make sense to me.

  They hadn’t exhausted or tormented me, neither with actions, nor with words and now I got to see you again?

  My emotions went overboard, and what humanity had resurfaced due to the day before was gone with the blink of one eye, or a door being opened.

  All I could think of was that this could be the last time. The only logical explanation was that they were about to take you away from me, maybe, because you had fulfilled your purpose.

  The thought itself send my being into a rampage. The Beast took over again, burning me up from the inside with this far too well-known rage.

  How I moved towards you, and what I did... it is a blur again, until my chest felt like it burst open with that one silly, masochist word escaping my mouth.

  * * *

  I still wonder what you feel hearing me say this, hearing me tell you that you are mine, with this growling and monstrous voice. For me, it’s hard to imagine that you could like that, even though it is meant in a completely different way.

  Because you are mine to care for, mine to protect, mine to adore... I know I sound cheesy again.

  Although this word is so wrong in so many ways, your reaction was forgiving me, and at that moment I forgot that I said it.

  I forgot that I said anything.

  All I knew was that I couldn’t imagine loosing you, because I desperately needed you. I still do.

  * * *

  I don’t need to stare through a window, watching you being out of reach from everything and everyone.

  What I would give to see your eyes again.

  Even though you looked straight at me, and I do remember every tiny moment of it, I feel like I can’t recall the color of your eyes.

  I want to feel just like in that second you saw mine. I need to see your expression again.

  Full of awe, and amazement.

  Absolute absence of fear.

  I have to live through you looking at me again, just like that moment, and all the moments that followed. It was like you saw right into the depth of me, right into that dark corner where I was hiding from the Beast in me.

  After this ‘session’ I did need no one to torment me. I could do that perfectly well on my own. And as if they had known, they left me alone with the first true human feeling that completely got hold of me, and chased away the beast: guilt.

  Yes, that’s the first thing I feel when I remember our meetings, all these situations, all I did to you. It claims my body like a freezing night that chills me through, with only hope of forgiveness warming the blood in my veins. I cannot describe it differently.

  Because how can I truly believe in your feelings for me, when you aren’t there to show it to me? I know I should trust in what you have said. But, what if?

  What if?

  When I cannot even forgive myself, how can you?

  And it all makes so much sense.

  Guilt is the only emotion that makes us differ us from animals. They do not feel remorse, because they follow the rules of nature. A predator does not feel pity for its prey, and the prey does not blame the predator for killing it.

  That’s why no one is probably astonished for me wanting to be the Beast again.

  Because the guilt is killing me.

  Day 128

  I feel like all I can do is beat myself up, feel guilty and just despise myself, although I have your words and actions as proof that I don’t need, to not entirely at least. Just because of that I feel even worse, as if I would degrade the word of your opinion. And that is surely not what I mean to do. But I can’t help but doubt if all of what I recall, all your positive words and actions, how you told me ‘I love you’ is all just my imagination, because I cannot cope with what I have done. All of it feels more and more like a dream, like it never happened.

  I feel like an addict. And you are my drug.

  I feel like being cut off cold turkey.

  Because I don’t get my regular dose of you, of your affection, your tenderness, your love. With every day that passes, I feel weaker, more exhausted, more nervous, more on edge, more beastly.

  I feel like I’m losing my mind.

  I need to get my shit together.

  I need to be strong, man up and be confident. I cannot help you being like this. I am not of any use being like this.

  Yes, I do what White asked and I am obedient. But I am nothing more than a subdued dog, doing what it is told, running around with its tail between its legs.

  I have no idea if he wants me to be different, if he wants me to be more than that. But I know that you need me to be more than that.

  You have never given up on me, and now it’s my turn to do the same: to believe in you and in myself.

  It was your hope, your confidence that saved me. I cannot let myself fall back into that darkness, because everything you did, everything I did for you, would have been for nothing. It would all be in vain. It would have been a waste of time, energy and potential.

  I don’t believe that White thinks differently.

  So, I’ll give him back your diary today.

  I will stop whining about the past, about what I have lost, and how I failed.

  I will do better.

  Day 129

  Why is it just now that I realize how much has changed for me ever since I first came back to my senses?

  First, most of my time was them trying to socialize me along with my comrades. They tried to keep us occupied with running, fighting, tormenting, and hunting us around. Eventually, tranquilizing us whenever they needed our blood. It’s not like we were all beasts on a rampage, but most of us were. The only human beings, we accepted were Valerie – Dr. Winters – and Peter. Her, because she was always the one to order the guards around, telling them to stop, which was a good thing – and Peter because, well, you know, he was one of us.

  Maybe this is just another canine thing, a kind of scent or sense, maybe that we recognize someone who has gone through the same treatment and is an altered human.

  I think they had learned that my comrades were calmer around me, which is why they always had me out first. That never changed, neither when they brought you in, at least for the morning schedule.

  If they just ignored the restlessness that might have come up when I wasn’t there, I cannot really tell. It’s not like they walked up to me and complained about what I have been up to.

  Maybe I should try and find out.

  What if they too had an Afternoon session like me?

  The thought of you not being the only one here... I just cannot re
ally go there.

  Would there be any change in how I feel about everything? I don’t know and I don’t even want to care to know, because I’m looking forward now, not back.

  Now, I spend most of my time in labs. I feel more like an athlete on a training campus, rather than a lab rat.

  I don’t know when it really changed. I think it was a slow process, and probably because of me being more and more civilized. I bet I could trick new employees here in thinking that I am no Beast at all...

  * * *

  I did as I said: I gave back your diary.

  Originally, I meant to take it with me once Peter got me out of my cell and brought me to see you again, because I knew that White would show up again to have out daily conversation.

  It didn’t exactly go down like that.

  I don’t know if White knew, but this man has to have a sixth sense regarding changes in people’s determination. Or maybe I just behaved differently after I had put my diary down yesterday.

  It doesn’t really matter.

  When it was my turn to go to the labs and for Peter to ‘pick me up’, White was standing right next to his half-brother when he had opened the door.

  I was honestly surprised.

  Yes, I know that I told you, I can smell who is close, but I also told you that their scents are fairly similar. And apart from that, I was distracted through my task.

  See, it’s not very easy for me to let go of something that reminds me of you, no matter if your scent is already gone. And it’s not that I give up everything.

  I still have your shirt. I still put it away, back into the hole of the metal basin in my cell, where you did put it first. I still take it out of its hiding place when it’s time for me to sleep. I am that cheesy. And it doesn’t have your scent anymore, it hasn’t for a long time already.