The Beast

by A R Davis

  Buried with you, she hoped. Buried for good.

  “I am not staying in Leola,” Valerie announced, “and I am not waiting for Lord Aubrey to let me go.” It felt scary to say it because it was so final. But that was merely it. It was final. It was done.

  “Do you know where you will go?” Captain Jonasson asked.

  It was only now that she knew the answer, now that she was standing here among the dead. Perhaps her parents did not want this for her; perhaps they did.

  But it was what she wanted.

  “Wherever I want,” she said.

  A storm of a crowd was building as they walked back on the streets. People were excitedly chatting as they made their way to the square.

  “What’s going on?” Valerie asked Captain Jonasson.

  “I’m not sure.” The captain stopped one of the passer-by and asked, “Excuse me, sir, can you tell me where everyone is going?”

  “The crier just made the announcement,” the man said. “Lord Aubrey’s returned from the forest. He says he’s caught the demon.”

  Chapter 29

  It wasn’t quite yet dawn when a knock arrived at his bedroom door. At any rate, he hadn’t been asleep. Young Aubrey threw on his robe and opened the door to one of his guardsmen. Young Aubrey did not need him to speak. From the expression on his face, he knew.

  “We found it, my Lord,” the guard said in barely a whisper, as though afraid to speak the news aloud. “It was too horrible to bring into town. You shouldn’t go near it.”

  “I must,” Young Aubrey said. “Fetch Captain Jonasson and take me to him.”

  “I’m afraid Captain Jonasson was not in the barracks this morning.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure, sir. He has not spoken to anyone of his whereabouts.”

  Young Aubrey had his suspicions, but they could wait. “Fine. Let us go without him.”

  Quickly, Young Aubrey dressed and followed the guardsman out of the manor. They rode on horseback to the forest as quickly as they dared. So many thoughts raced in Young Aubrey’s mind. He felt a strange sense of finality as the buildings and streets raced past him in a blur. It felt as though something had slammed into his chest.

  Young Aubrey took his time dismounting and tying his horse to a nearby tree. He and his guardsman walked slowly into the forest.

  “How did you catch him?” Young Aubrey asked.

  The guardsman seemed to have snapped out of some sort of stupor upon being addressed. “It was as you said, my Lord. It was on its way to Merrion to look for the girl.” He appeared to have more to say, but he looked away quickly and swallowed.

  “What happened?” Young Aubrey pressed.

  “It killed…two men. It tore through them like – like parchment. I heard the noise and I…I’m sorry.” He would say no more on the matter. Young Aubrey could only imagine.

  “Sorry for what?”

  The guardsman did not answer, but Young Aubrey could guess what he was going to say. I’m sorry we did not believe you. Young Aubrey felt a slight tinge of satisfaction. If only his father was here to see this.

  “You did well,” Young Aubrey said as a way of accepting his apology.

  “You should have let us kill it, my Lord.”

  “Killing it would have been too easy. You remember what my father said? Evil must be punished.”

  The guardsman stopped. “Evil must be destroyed.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s what your father said. Evil must be destroyed, not punished.” He pointed ahead. “They are holding it over there, waiting for your orders, my Lord.”

  Young Aubrey thought it best not to comment on what his father used to say. He was sure he knew Lord Aubrey best. After all, this man did not watch his father die. “Are you coming?” he asked.

  “No, my Lord. I don’t wish to lay my eyes on it again.” He turned away and leaned against a tree as if his own weight was too much for his fragile, shaking bones.

  Young Aubrey left him, knowing full well that nothing he could say would provide comfort. Besides, he was simply not one for comforting others. The demon had seen to that.

  That’s why you want this to end, he reminded himself, so you can get that part of you back. So that no one will be afraid of you. So that you can return to the Aubrey you were before you were a false smile and before you killed your father…who you loved so much.

  Six guardsmen surrounded a man chained up on his knees. There was a small burlap bag over the man’s head and two of Young Aubrey’s men had their rifles pointed at him. It looked like a man. Young Aubrey knew it was the demon; the fact that it took six of his men to bring him down was proof enough. He could see the bag moving as the demon gave slow, harsh, rattling breaths. Blood was seeping through the left side of the bag and was dripping down the demon’s shoulder. The blood was wine red like a man’s. What kind of foul creature could be so deceiving? Young Aubrey thought.

  One of his men bowed his head when Young Aubrey approached. “My Lord,” he said as he stepped to the side, giving Young Aubrey room to approach the prisoner.

  Young Aubrey almost did not want to remove the burlap bag. He could hear the demon’s breathing quicken with his own. How are we both so afraid of each other? Young Aubrey pondered as he slowly lowered his hand to the top of the demon’s head. He hovered over it for a moment, as though he feared the demon would break free and take him. Then, in one swift motion, he curled his fingers around the bag and violently yanked it off the demon’s head.

  It was more horrible than in his nightmares.

  The demon’s triangular ears were stiff and alert, like a dog’s. There was a deep cut on the left side of his black-furred brow. His thin-lipped mouth was curled back to expose his blood stained fangs. And those eyes. His eyes were jade green daggers aimed at Young Aubrey’s heart. Young Aubrey could not help himself, he had to take a step back and recoil his hands.

  “I don’t care what that bitch told you,” the demon spat, his voice sounding like there were stones trapped in his throat. Young Aubrey shuddered. “I’m not telling you where he is.”

  It took several seconds for Young Aubrey to regain his composure. What was this demon playing at? “Where who is?” Young Aubrey asked.

  The demon kept his eyes on Young Aubrey, refusing to say a word. He merely bared his teeth again, reminding Young Aubrey of the damage he had done.

  Didn’t the old crone from the inn say the demon spoke of a brother? At the time, it did not mean much to Young Aubrey.

  “There’s more than one of you,” he said slowly as comprehension dawned on him. This was not the demon he had spoken to in Merrion.

  His guardsmen were visibly terrified by the idea. Young Aubrey did his best to remain authoritative. If I go down, who will sail this ship?

  The demon remained silent, but his reaction to Young Aubrey’s words was enough.

  “That’s all right,” Young Aubrey said as he knelt before the demon. “You don’t have to tell me where he is.” He pointed to one of his men. “Give me your knife.”

  The guard did as he was instructed.

  Young Aubrey held up the blade to the demon’s face and slowly waved it back and forth as though he meant to hypnotize him. Then he asked, “I wonder how much your fur is worth.”

  *

  It did not take long to say goodbye.

  It took longer for Damien to leave. He lingered at the threshold of the front door and looked up the stairs as though he still expected someone else to come down to meet him. All was still and quiet. Eventually, this house will collapse, and the forest will embrace it in its leaves and bushes and tree roots. It will be as if no one had ever lived here.

  It was better that way.

  Damien slowly let out a breath, and then he stepped outside. He locked the door behind him and then chucked the key away. He didn’t wait to hear the sound of it landing in the distance. Instead, he moved in the opposite direction to meet up with Dante. The only thing h
e carried with him was the little monster figurine in his pocket. He could feel it tapping against his leg as though it was trying to get his attention. “We’re going to start over,” Damien said. He patted his pocket as though he was reassuring the little monster. “It’s going to be good for us.” He let the words linger in the air. “Maybe we’ll return to the city on the sea…”

  He couldn’t finish it.

  He settled into a steady rhythm of forward walking. It became so monotonous that, at first, he did not register that he had missed their meeting spot by a few yards. Dante had yet to arrive. Maybe some things would never change.

  Damien leaned against a tree, folded his arms, and waited. And waited. And waited. He started to worry. He reached for the little monster in his pocket and held it. He’s on his way, he thought. He did not know if he was sharing this thought with the little monster or not. Something must have held him up.

  Or someone.

  The waiting became too much; Damien had to do something. He walked for a short distance to see if Dante was coming along the path. As he walked, he noticed a faint copper smell in the air. It grew stronger as he kept on. The scent made him nervous. He recognized it as blood.

  He moved faster toward the scent, frantically ripping down the branches that were in his path and kicking the stones in front of his feet. After a while, he broke into a run. It’s not Dante, he thought as the wind whistled in his ears. Dante is fine. He probably had to kill someone or he probably killed an animal so that we could have some food for the trip. “Where are we going, anyway?” “Wherever we want,” Dante had told him the first night they met.

  Wherever we want.

  At the end of the road, Damien saw a bleeding man chained to two trees, his arms were spread apart as though he was waiting for an embrace. As Damien drew closer, he realized that it was not a man, and his heart felt as though it would never beat again.

  Without thinking, he rushed towards Dante. Alarm bells shrieked above him. Damien knew it was a trap, but he ran to Dante anyway because they were supposed to start over together and he could not do it alone. He fell to his knees in front of Dante and called his name.

  They had cut off both of his ears and skinned the flesh off the left side of his face, leaving a pulpy, bloody mess. His left eye was lidless, lifeless, focused on the ground. Blood stained his front and slid down his neck. Damien shook his maybe-brother’s shoulders but Dante would not move. But he is alive, he has to be. The bells were screaming into Damien’s brain and it made it hard to think. He grabbed one of the chains and started to pull with all his might. It wouldn’t give. He stood, planted his foot against the tree, and pulled again. I am strong enough to break a man’s bones, but not my brother’s chains, he thought.

  “Dante, wake up! Please, I can’t –”

  Dante stirred slowly, almost drunkenly. His left eye wobbled as it moved. He said something but his voice was drowned out by the bells. Damien moved closer to him and forced his maybe-brother to look him in the eye.

  “Lord Aubrey is coming,” Dante said hoarsely. “His men. I thought the girl told him.” His laugh was broken. “He doesn’t even have her.”

  “It’s going to be all right,” Damien said hurriedly. “I just have to find a way to –”

  “You can’t.”

  “I’m going to –”

  “Leave me here. Get out.”

  Damien tried to pry the links loose. He nearly bit them with his teeth as if that would be any better. There wasn’t much time. He knelt back in front of Dante.

  “Dante, listen to me. You have to – to tell me what to do. Tell me how to get you out,” Damien said. He pulled on the chain one more time.

  “Run,” Dante said.

  “No. I can’t.”

  “There is nothing you can do.” Dante took a few ragged breaths. When Damien failed to move, he said, “Go. They are coming.”

  Damien winced and released his brother’s shoulders. “I know,” he said. He stood and turned his back on his maybe-brother, facing the trees and the unknown. “I know.”

  Damien waited.

  Slowly, the bells ceased their ringing; leaving an emptiness that Damien could almost feel.

  Seconds fell like rain; they were so scattered that Damien lost count of them. It felt as though the bells were still ringing in his head, drowning his thoughts and his fears. There were rustling noises above and snapping noises below.

  And then there were footsteps.

  He would not give them a chance to surround him, and he was not surrendering without a fight. They could take him if they wanted, but they would not have Dante. Now I have to pull you from the sea, he thought. Damien charged forward.

  There was a bang and a searing hot pain sent him crashing down on one knee. Damien gritted his teeth as blood spilled from the small hole in his right leg. His leg felt so heavy; he fought with all his strength to get back up again. Meanwhile, ten guardsmen emerged cautiously from the trees, each with their rifles trained at him.

  “Stay down!” a guardsman barked.

  Damien started to get up.

  He felt something crash against the back of his head. His vision went blurry and his head crackled.

  “Damien, don’t,” he heard Dante say behind him.

  “I’ll kill you for what you’ve done to him!” Damien shouted. “And I’ll send your heads to Lord Aubrey.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

  The men roughly moved Damien so he could see. Young Aubrey strolled up behind Dante. He pointed his pistol at the back of Dante’s head.

  “You will do as my men instruct you to,” Young Aubrey said, “or we’ll all see what a demon’s brain looks like.”

  “I will surrender if you let him go,” Damien said.

  “I don’t make deals with demons, and you have no leverage against me. If you try to get up again, he dies.”

  “He has done nothing to you. It was all me. I marked your face. I killed your men.”

  “And I don’t care. You have ten seconds.”

  Damien met Dante’s eyes. What choice did he have? I can’t let you go, he thought. “All right,” he said.

  “I want to hear you say it,” Young Aubrey said. “Say that you surrender, and I will free him.”

  “I surrender.”

  “Say it again.”

  The pain in his leg cemented him to the ground. Damien said it through his teeth, “I surrender.”

  Young Aubrey shoved the pistol against the back of Dante’s head. “I can’t hear you!” he shouted.

  “I surrender!” Damien shouted back. He raised his hands. “I’ll do as you say. Just let him go.”

  Young Aubrey waited for a moment. And then he slowly lowered his pistol. “Chain him up,” he commanded his guards. “And take off that ridiculous disguise. Leola needs to see him as he really is.”

  The guards did as their lord commanded. They ripped off his cloak and tossed it aside. Damien did not need to hear their murmurs of disgust; he could see it in their eyes. They chained his hands behind his back. They wrapped the chains around his body, binding him tightly. And when they were done, Young Aubrey inspected their work, still standing behind Dante.

  “I can’t believe there were two of you all this time,” Young Aubrey said. He shook his head incredulously. “It’s a shame I’m only bringing back one.”

  *

  Most of the townspeople were already gathered in the square by the time Valerie and Captain Jonasson arrived. The wall of bodies in front of them made it harder to get any closer to the platform, so they settled for standing in the center. Valerie wasn’t sure she wanted to get any closer. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be here. It’s not him, she thought as everyone waited anxiously for Lord Aubrey. It’s not him. Maybe it was Dante, but if it was Dante, Damien would most certainly come for him. She did not want it to be either of them.

  “We do not have to be here if you don’t wish to be, Miss Valerie,” Captain Jonasson
said gently.

  “I know,” Valerie said. It would be no better to hear about it later. “Do you really think he caught him, Captain?”

  “He would not have arranged all of this if he hadn’t.”

  If Valerie had asked Damien that question, he would have lied.

  A hush fell over the crowd as Lord Aubrey stepped onto the platform. Behind him, four guards were escorting a severely skinny man with a bag over his head and his hands chained behind his back. The clothes he wore were too big for him. Around his waist was a knotted rope. He shook as he limped up the steps. Dried blood stained his right leg. The guards shoved him to the center of the stage beside Lord Aubrey. The smile on Lord Aubrey’s face was brighter than that of his mask.

  At first, the crowd did not know what to make of this man’s ratty appearance. A few murmurs broke around Valerie. She heard one of them ask, “Is that really the demon?” Valerie knew better. She felt something tighten in her stomach. She was suddenly very aware of how many people were present.

  “My good people of Leola,” Lord Aubrey began, “for two years we have lived with loss. We have watched our loved ones enter the forest and never return. We have stayed awake at night wondering why—wondering if we would ever know the answer.” He paused to gauge the reaction of the crowd. “When we lost my father, and I became lord, I made it my duty, my purpose, to keep us safe. May my father rest in peace, but he failed to understand the true danger that was hiding in our forest. Perhaps if he was here today, he would understand. I, however, knew the truth. And the truth is that it was not a man who robbed you of your sons and daughters. It was not a man who cost you your livelihoods. And it was not a man who cut me open and left me to die.”

  He stepped over to the man beside him. Valerie hands were balled into fists. She could not blink, she could not look away.

  “I present to you: the demon,” Lord Aubrey said, and he removed the bag with a flourish.

  It was Damien.

  Of course it was.

  At first, a deadly silence permeated the square. The people stared open-mouthed at Damien for what felt like a long time.