Monsters (prologue)
Monsters are scary things indeed. We come from a time and place which is deeply
afraid and knows very little of the human mind.
From the Dark Ages, we learned to fear what we could not explain or
control. The same is found in the great
monsters like Grendel, Hannibal Lector, Gayson the Killer Clown, Charles
Manson, Son of Sam, Zodiac, the Joker (DC Comics), and many more. However, science is now trying to prove that
killers are indeed born killers; something different in the brain. These people, fictional or not, had lives too
before they changed for the
worse. These people had mothers and
perhaps siblings who cared about them.
The idea that monsters are not just
born out of fiction or deformities, “just
as there are physical monsters, can there not be mental or physical monsters
born?” (John Steinbeck, East of Eden). Here Steinbeck is trying to capture the
perhaps literary status quo, which has been drilled into our minds that true
monsters only exist on a page or in physical bodies, not the mind; which is
where they are born.
Beauty and the Beast by me
Trials of an Eternity by the Devil
The
night loomed ahead, thunder and whispers traveling on the winds told of a
horrible beast, stuck up inside the Rupert Mansion. With a clap of thunder, a single light goes
out in the mansion and a clatter silences the night. Deep within the dungeons of the castle, sits
something dark and malicious, resting from the night of splendor and bloodlust.
There
it sits, it’s wings folded neatly against it’s grey, clammy back. The muscles embedded in it mimicked the
graves of so many whom this beast erected like monuments to its torment of
man-kind. This was a demon, a spawn of
Satan himself! Then the shadow of this
beast begins to change, its large wings shrinking as though the Light of God
was upon it. It’s head formed into
something more human-like, maintaining, however, the bat-like ears and
strangely pointed forehead. The hands
and legs seem to grow smaller to match the more subtle weakness this creature
was shackled with in its less demonic form.
This was still a throne, not a cavern of Beelzebub. God still roamed in this darkness of the
world, and this creature knew it.
The
beast turns to the left, his eyes closed but his lips slightly parted in a
smile, if that is what you could call
it.
“What
a decent night to hunt in,
what
a moonless sky hath graced my wings.
To
what extent would I give to ordain yet another night as peaceful as that yet again?
Alas,
there
is tomorrow-“ it pauses, his eyes open just enough to be able to haze at
its claw-like feet.
“-another
night comes to bless my miserable existence in this world of suffering and injustice.
To what extent will there be for
such horrors to end-?” It moves
with a snake-like-swagger, its back turned away from the tiniest amount of
light entering the dungeons for the fear of God.
“To
what extent will this world fully except my existence?
When
will I brand thyself a giver to this own world,
let
alone my own role on this mighty stage!?!” it screams into the
darkness, its arms open at it’s sides.
After a moment of depressed and lonely silence, it speaks again, this
time in a harsher tone, the beast licking it’s lips, revealing a bounty of
fangs, “Alas, what role can a wolf play on a farm with only sheep
and mutts cast?”
Almost
gracefully the beast steps towards a beautifully ornate oak dresser. Its claws wrap around a pure white
handkerchief and squander it with the reminiscent blood on its lips. The beast rubs the virgin white cloth over
its soiled face, smearing the wet blood over it. Only a little proof of the horrors of the
night come off on the cloth, leaving behind the rest, engrained against the
countless crimes already committed by the beast, forgotten by death and God.
“What sweet scarlet life ordains these
pale, monstrous lips,
sustaining such a lifeless
body,
undeserving,
un-yearning
for purity’s sake?
To what end is my suffering?” With a cackle it throws its head back,
laughing at the madness in its soul.
With a snaps of the wrist, the monster throws the trashed cloth back
onto the dresser, the desire for it no longer enough to quench its thirst for
cleanliness and love, which had been dashed again and again before its eyes.
“Will I be made to wander to the ends
of the very Earth to fulfill my
punishment?
My bargain with death hath not been
pleasing enough for
my Lord?
O, by the Heavens above,
to what ends shall thine eyes
scorn me,
watch and
hold back the rains from wetting my thirsty tongue?
No matter…” It raises its fist and screams at the light
emerging from the top of the dungeon stairs, “…do all we puny scum deserve no
better?
Shall I cower to prove my existence
or repent to the
sins of the Father?” The thunder from above almost served as an answer
to the driven man creature of the Devil, lowering its head.
“If it be true that I am the spawn of
The Fallen,
then why doth my heart still
sing of happier
times,
times when I
was not in the skin I have been trapped in for
an eternity to bare my
own
cross
alone?” With that
the beast lowered its head, almost reminiscing in its emotions from another
time. These stirrings were things the
beast almost couldn’t remember but somewhere deep inside, it longed for them in
the heart it thought it froze long ago.
Thunder rolled across the sky and a flash of light made the beast
cringe, almost expecting God’s own hand to appear to smite it. However, a small piece of it wanted death,
wanted it to take the thing it had become away to perhaps salvage the poor soul
which inhabited the fragmented mind, trapped in a body that was rejected by
society, a pillar of what humanity feared.
The Price of Companionship by Monty Yebets
On
a beautiful evening, a small yet comfortable home sat alone, unknowing of a
woman’s touch for a long time. A smug
look about the young lad boost his ego in only a slight amount. He, after all, hadn’t had true companionship
for a while and he had lost almost all dignity and shame.
Her
moans only brought a pitied smile to his face.
He knew she was faking it. He
couldn’t be that good. He never really was.
After
a few minutes of relaxation, Monty Yabets clutches the sheet around his waist,
shamelessly leaving his chest bare with his sweat. With a tired motion, he drags himself up out
of bed and into the living room. A few
moments later his partner appears in the kitchen-living room area with the
blanket gracefully and expertly draped around her nakedness.
“Would
you like anything to eat dear?” he asks glancing over his shoulder.
“I
told you not to call me that…”
“I’ll
take that as a no then…” he says, pausing for a moment. He then resumes to help himself to a scotch
and cigarette.
“Forgive
me… Vanessa was it…?”
“Urk! You men are all the same. They act all dainty and sweet until they get what they want.” Sighs the girl, shifting her weight awkwardly, moving to
help herself to a stiff-looking sofa in the weirdly shaped living room. Slowly, yet tenderly Monty makes his way
there to take a seat on a wooden rocking chair opposite her, the one he had
passed down from his dear grandmother.
Awkwardly he moves it a bit closer to the woman before him and rests his
weight on the seat of the moving chair.
“Well,
are you sure you don’t even want a smoke?
It seems to clear the head.”
“If
you don’t mind, I’d like to be leaving.”
“Mind
you,” he says with a chuckle, “I paid for another hour… you aren’t going
anywhere soon.” The woman scoffs.
“I
doubt you will need another hour. Heck, you
didn’t even take the full hour starting when I walked through the door. After insisting on all that chit chat and
then a movie to watch on the couch, which we never really even got to before
the bedroom, it didn’t even take the first hour!” Getting the reaction she wanted yet expected
from a low-life like him, she smiles and seems to relax a bit more on the
sofa. Her eyes never leave Monty’s
pained expression, trying to hold back the urge to kick her out as he did so
many others after a while, even when it mattered.
“Mmmmhhhhh… Yea right Rose…” he pauses, seeing her
annoyed expression. He decides to try
again, “was it?” The girl uncrosses her
legs and rises from her uncomfortable seat and casually drops the blanket to
the floor before the boy.
“I
will be taking my leave now! I have
other customers and my pimp will be wondering where I am. For most lonely men like you, it only takes a few minutes let alone a half-hour…”
Monty
just gives her a glance over his shoulder as she leaves, trying to keep his
eyes from gazing over her sleek body before she moves completely out of
sight. The boy then returns to his
scotch and cigarette, he closes his eyes as his front door slams shut. Shaking his head, he takes another swig. At the last puff of the lonely cigarette, he
crosses his legs and sighs.
“Nothing
is more revealing than one’s own loneliness. At least, it is solvable with two month’s
rent…” he says, attempting a meek chuckle, his surfacing feelings of sadness
and want surfacing. He seemed to try and
trick himself into believing that a few minutes of a fake relationship and
lover was worth the large sum of money.
He hoped that he wouldn’t feel as guilty or dirty as he did last time,
but he felt even worse. This vicious
cycle he is forced into by his family blood, a linage which once was great, a
family that once had power.
“O,
what true sorrow await a man with no love,
no
true passion within his soul –or
loins for that matter-” he says, pausing.
Realizing his heart’s contemptible state and his failed attempt and wise
poetry as his ancestors possessed, his brow furrows in memory’s trap.
“Oh, damn you, Sir Rupert! You cursed out family! You spent all our fortunes away on whims of a
cure to our curse…”
The Dark Before The Dawn by Sir Caspian Rupert
The
twilight air seemed to calm the mansion down from what had been recently
contained within its walls for some time.
Up in the private chambers of Sir Caspian Rupert, a small light glows
outwards. In his old-fashioned suit,
Caspian smiles to himself, his usual lighthearted mood carried in his
heart. With a graceful and long stride,
he takes a seat at his oak-wood dresser, glancing at the red curtain shrouding
the mirror on the wall mounted within the very same wood of his most beloved
furniture. With a forced smile,
something within him speaks in a raspy tone, something out of Hell, “Good
morning to you, Caspian Rupert. Hast
thou a pleasant slumber?”
“Indeed
I did good sir,” the
man replied, his voice returned to normal.
“’Good
sir’, might I say, is for the fine and nobler of bloodlines. I, however
bare no such title.”
“No
matter my man.”
“-And
a ‘man’, I am not either.”
“Then
forgive my loose tongue for it’s misconception of the mind. I meant to fault by it.”
“None
taken yet, for thou are still a better lad than I…”
“Yet
I am no longer a boy to be trifled with, demon!”
“Touché…”
rasps the
voice, settling down and distracted by a vision before the knight. The woman’s gown was a pale white, almost
translucent in the evening lighting and waved around her hovering figure. The bridal gown was something Caspian
remembered all too well and had been dying to forget but here, now, he feared for
his control of it.
“Good
and gentle spirit… Fares thee well?” he asks, reaching out his
arm towards her. He stays seated, almost
holding back what was inside his mind from corrupting the one thing that was precious to him… “Hast my dearest slept well in her
eternal slumber? Bring me news of
her?” After getting no response,
Caspian rises and faces the spirit fully, his eyes trapped in her faded ones.
“If the Heavens have received her
yet, then speak! I pledge thee!
Release thy testament to my soul
for I hunger with what
news thou bringést!” Again the
desperate soul reaches for the spirit, stepping closer. His eyes glance her body over, a body he once
knew so well.
“O what a fool am I!
You be my dearest
my love, my Light!
Speak you not?
Must your words refuse my dirtied
ears and
fruitless mind?
How could you refrain thyself from
me,
the hopeless beggar
kneeling before thee, my arms open and my heart swooning in remembrance
of the scars I still behold?
Hast thou ears to hear with? Did God not give you back your senses in
death,
lips to proclaim thyself
to me?
Why
stayest thine hand from me?”
screams the man, his arm muscles constricting the anger and fear out of him
through his mouth. The emotions in the
heart he thought was broken were swelling out of the riven scars now bleeding
out as poetry that his love once had adored from him, her lover.
Seeing
his failed approaches to move her soul and heart, Caspian falls to the floor on
his knees, his head limply hanging.
Tears he had been holding back for so long begin racing down his
handsome cheeks, absorbed into his linen dress-shirt. Deep inside, a voice speaks, the same voice
the knight had feared for along time, “I can make the pain go away… She never loved
you for you. It was always the power you had, not what you could give her!” Caspian
just squeezes his eyes tighter, knowing it wouldn’t block out the monster but
still, it was worth trying.
“Come
on, weakling! I give you the strength
you need! I make you who you are!” With that Caspian feels his body begin to
shift in color, the grey of the monster’s body shifting before the color of his
own pale skin.
“Grrraaaahhhhhhh! Not now!!!!!” screams Caspian,
his hands clawing into his head as though trying to rip the monster from his
mind.
“You
can’t get me out that easy,
Caspian… O, what love was lost,
the
hate within
moving your soul to
never
love
again!”
“Argh! To what ends is this- monster inside me
reside!?!
Will it take my own soul for it’s
own?
How can I end my suffering?
How can I cut the sparrow from it’s
bondage?
How can I sever these devil horns
from my head?
How can I regain my angel wings and
discard the Devil’s
without soiling the
white wings I used to wield?” Caspian pauses, seeing the distressed look
on the ghosts’ face. Immediately he
stops the change from happening, his skin returning to normal.
“My dearest,
my lost love.
Forgive me for ever loving thee,
for giving thyself to
this wretch they call knight,
for I have wasted thee,
I have soiled thy heart and soul!”
Caspian looks down, his heart exhausted from unfeeling for
so long, now being called into action like an old veteran. He does not notice, but the woman’s soul he
once loved reaches out to the man she recognized but no longer knew. Her fingertips pass through his skin and her
eyes close, knowing her fate. A single
tear lands on Caspian’s skin, anointing the man with perhaps the other world’s
version of love and longing, both things Caspian desperately felt.
The Fall (Devil or Man?)
The
beast’s wings stretch out over the night sky, the breeze uplifting it off the
castle terrace into in to the sky. Bats
swarm around their master, the eyes of Lucifer reflected back in its black
orbs. In one flap of the wings, the
beast’s body is rocketed higher above the earth it so despised before it. It had been too long for it to exist among
the humans it took so much joy in striking down.
The
scent of fresh blood caught its attention and it’s head turns forwards the
potential meal, for nothing was better than the smell of a young woman’s blood
in the night air.
Perched
on a nearby building, the beast’s eyes catch its prey, pressed up against a
wall with a man in front of her, something shiny pressed against her neck. From the man’s shabby appearance, the beast
no longer feared the threat of the weapon being silver, but still, it wouldn’t
hurt to be cautious. In a single leap,
the beast’s talons land beside the feet of the man, who turns around, brandishing
his small knife before him.
“What
the fuck are you doi-” starts the man.
In one arm motion, the beast throws him out of the way, its eyes stuck
on the woman before him. As the woman’s
eyes adjust to the darkness before her, the beast’s features shift slightly,
the trapped human beneath coming into her gaze a little clearer.
“Are you alright mam?”
“What…? You just… saved me!?!” she says, confused at
the wings and rock-hard grey scale-ish skin.
“Indeed I did… but he wants me to kill you in a different
way…”
“What?”
she says, her tone slightly more panicked than before, almost realizing the
monster before her was not the man she hoped or thought.
“See, he’s not as nice as me… So
would you rather me do it or him?” comes Caspian’s voice,
rugged and violent. The woman opens her
lips to speak but the knight moves in anyway, “I
knew you would rather me than the monster that saved you.”
Dropping
her body to the floor, Caspian’s eyes lift skyward.
“Hast thou forsaken me?
Sweet Jesu-”
“SHUT
IT FOOL!” roars the beast.
“You made me…” whimpers
Caspian, his hands above his head as though the beast inside him was before
him, its claws raised to strike. “Please…”
“Enough! Back to our lair,” commands the beast,
its wings spreading outwards, lifting Caspian’s half-human-half-beast body to
the sky.
Back
in the familiarity of his home, Caspian rips off his bloodied shirt in disgust.
“Why! Why!”
“Because
you can, Caspian!”
“How dare you call me by my name,
Devil! Demon from He-”
“Now
what did I say about saying the H-word in front of me?”
“You never leave me, demon… You are
stuck with me.”
“I
am a part of you, Caspian my
dearest…” hisses the vampire with a smile. Caspian takes a seat on the bed, refusing to
look at the bloodstains on his clothes, the blood he had raved about seeing on
his hands and face for so long, never to be cleansed.
“You
aren’t the only creature out there, Caspian! There are others!”
“Like who?” Caspian snaps,
annoyed and fed up with his permanent partner.
“This
monster,” says the demon, using Caspian’s body to reach for a book
beside the bed. He raises it to
Caspian’s eyes and the boy turns his head in horror.
“What? Dracula!?!
Are you serious?”
“What…”
says the demon, its sarcastic droll bringing a smile to its face.
“It’s us!”
“A vampire?”
“That’s
what Lucifer told me when he kissed my head and called me Honored Son-”
“You already spoke to me of this! It has still haunted me!”
“Yesss…
But you know not of your powers… You can
get your love back!”
“What?” says Caspian, his
Romeo-heart springing forth to his throat, unaware of the demon holding the
dagger just before it.
“Indeed,”
purrs the beast. “I know of how to bring her back to life to be with you.”
“How can I trust you?”
“The
kind you once were fear what they do not know, so let me tell you what we are,” says the demon, reaching
for another book on the knight’s bedside dresser. He pulls out a dictionary and flips it to the
definition of ‘monster’.
“Noun,
a legendary animal combining features of animal and human form or having
animals of various combination. Or, a
person who excites horror by wickedness, cruelty, sadism-”
“Enough!” snaps the knight,
throwing the book to the ground with a loud thwack.
“And in the Dracula book… we aren’t the
only creatures out there and when I left… Hell… my Father was sending many
others out like me! We have siblings,
Caspian!”
“No!” whimpers the man, his
hands against his ears, trying in vain to block out the voice inside his head.
“These humans have been writing about us since these times! Even when you were knighted back in 1415 with
the king of En-”
“Enough already!”
“Come on… let’s try it and see what
happens… Please?” The demon reflects past memories of his host
and the girl he wanted so desperately to marry, the girl whom he poured his
heart and soul out into and whom returned his feelings with great passion. After so long of searching and waiting,
Caspian Rupert had found his princess and only to have lost her in only the
most horrible way.
“What do ya say… Ol’ buddy… O’l pal?” sneers the demon,
its sharpened bat-like fangs dripping saliva onto the ornate rug.
“For Eliza Dominika…” murmurs
Caspian, his broken heart longing for her touch once again, the mere mention of
her name paining him. With a smile, the
demon walks Caspian’s body down the long flights of stairs.
“Tonight will be a night to remember,
Caspian Rupert! However, we need the
lives of low-life’s in this day-and-age…
We need to make a sacrifice…”
A New Curse (Blood River)
In a distinct
manor, Monty Yabets strides down Port Street, glancing tentatively at all the
girls he had already slept with in these past few years. A lot of them had changed, mainly for the
worst, but tonight, he wasn’t looking for more companionship.
With a twist
of his heels he heads into a back alley and glances down at his hands, already
shaking. It had been a few years since
he was off morphine and now, he needed it, badly. Unsure of what was happening to him, he
approaches a scruffy looking man in the sane alley, his back tilted up against
the gratified brick wall.
“Whaddya
lookin’ for this time chum?” he snaps, wrapping the wad of money in his hand
into a ball of cash.
“The usual
Jerry.”
“By God’s
balls! It’s you!”
“Yeah…” says
Monty, his head lowered slightly. The
bum smiles a rotten smile and slaps his old acquaintance on the back hard.
“Long time
no see!”
“Yeah, and I
was hoping it would stay like that but, for some reason I needed my fix
tonight,” he says, his voice getting shaky in anticipation.
“Good…
good… Ya were a great payin’
customer. You know what, tonight it’s on
meh, ol’ bud!” smiles Jerry, pulling out a dirty syringe from his inside coat
pocket. He then pulls out a small
bottle, the label clearly scratched off and tampered with to allow it to fall
into this low-life’s hands. With a
nimble action, the man passes the needle filled with the pain-reduction
medicine in it.
“Have some
fun… relax man.”
“Thanks
Jerry. You don’t know how much this
means to me right now,” smiles Monty, eagerly taking the syringe and rolling up
his sleeve. In a swift action, ignoring
the twinge of pain and the dried blood on the end of the needle, perhaps from
another one of Jerry’s scum customers; Monty shoots up. He feels the ecstasy hit his bloodstream at
once and smiles.
“It takes
away most of da pain, huh?”
“Yeah….
Suuuuuree…………” Says Monty, his voice higher and rolling slower off his tongue.
“Seeeee ya rooouuuuuunndddd……” With a
wave of his hand, Monty stumbles back down the alley and towards the red light
district, mentally out of it.
Not far off,
a previous knight of the realm swoops over head, down into the alley where
Monty had just been. In a crack and a
swinging motion, Jerry the Bum’s head was separated from his dirtied body, his
life’s blood being drained by a hungry beast.
Monty
groggily walks into his favorite club, one of the cheapest joints around.
“Got any
beer?” he snaps at a waiter, scooping the tips off the counter with one hand as
she bounces the baby of another man on her hip, the one who clearly left her
after she broke the news to him.
“Sure. How much ya got on ya?” she shoots back at
him, glancing at the other few heartless guys waiting all round her.
“Fifty.”
“Good enough
for me,” she says, reaching under the bar and pulls out three beers, slamming
them lazily down in front of him. With a
nod, Monty thanks her and she moves on to the other thirsty customers.
By the sixth
beer, Monty’s eyes were rolling around in his skull. His smile was fake and plastered there by
some dame’s messy kiss as she stole his remaining money out of his pocket. He knew she was probably long-gone by know
with some other low-life like himself, but didn’t care.
The only
thing to make him turn his lousy head around was the sound of one of his beers
hitting the floor, the watered-down liquid spilling all over his clothes. After uttering a lousy word his mother would
have boxed his ears for, he points one of the shards at the man behind him.
“Get the
Hell out of my way!”
“You don’t know what you’re dealing
with here, mortal!”
snaps a raspy voice back, ignoring the shard pointed at his chest. The beast turns his back on the drunkard and
drug addict and slams the nearest victim into the back wall. In a flash the beast was on him, its teeth
inches deep into the victim’s flesh, ripping, grinding, and tearing the life
out of him. Shocked, Monty stumbles,
racing for the door. Screams of terror
begin to arise as others make for the door, which was already barred shut. This beast had the mind of a man, and knew
how futile running would be as he tried so many years ago.
After
dispatching nearly all the customers in the bar, the beast turns his black eyes
on Monty, however, something makes him stop.
The boy appeared to be about early twenty and miserable with his life,
mimicking the human’s own feelings under the mask he couldn’t take off alone.
“What are you doing, Caspian?”
“What
is thy name, man?”
Caspian asks the low-life before him.
Stunned, Monty gurgles, “Monty Yabets.”
“Yabets? Do you know what that means?”
“We don’t have time for this!” urges the beast,
impatiently trying to pull his hosts’ body away from the boy sprawled before
him. However, this time, Caspian would
not let the beast take his first lead away from him. This boy was something new, something he
hadn’t seen before in any mortal in this day and age.
“Should I?”
“It
is derived from the Bible, Cain’s clan to be exact. It means pain
and sorrow…” mumbles Caspian, realizing
the connection he had formed with this man in realizing how similar their
problems were going to become.
“What are you thinking, Caspian?” mumbles the beast, sensing
the shift in his host’s emotions.
“This
boy, is worthy of the life he is living,” replied Caspian. “He is one of my descendants… he
carries my blood in his veins.”
“What?”
murmurs Monty, half aware of what this lunatic was mumbling before him; and why
was he speaking all weird?
“He
must live,”
commands Caspian, glaring into his mind at the demon whose body he now allowed
to possess his own, his human flesh morphing into the flesh of a creature who
crawled out of Hell.
With that,
the beast and man united; turn from the boy, blood dripping from its snout and
draw out a pentagram on the wooden floor in the blood of the victims
around. Meanwhile, two small, soft
footsteps approach the scene, coming drowsily from the back room.
“Mom?” came
a child’s voice. Monty turns his head
and so does the beast.
“No!” shouts
Monty, reading the beast’s actions. In a
moment, Monty’s body is cowering over the child, protecting it from the beast
standing over it, its claws elongated and yearning to rip into the boy’s
bowels. Shocked, Caspian stands down and
looks at the brave soul of Monty, who had channeled forth God-like speed and
courage to place his mortal body before the boy.
“You’re
parents are dead, boy,” scoffs Caspian, turning away from both of them. “Now
witness the Devil’s work! For I shall be reunited with my love!” Turning away from them, Caspian reaches his
claws upwards, as though beckoning some Godly force towards himself. The pentagram in the middle of the flow
begins to glow as a red aura appears throughout the room. Then something in Monty picks up, the soiled
blood in the dirty syringe racing in his heart.
The drug addict sinks to the floor over the boy and traps him under
him. The boy cries and whines in fear
but it does not move the bulk over him.
Monty’s brain goes into panic mode and he losses consciousness.
The Blood Moon Wanes by Monty Yebets
As the sun
begins to rise in the sky, Monty begins to feel the fur fall to the floor off
his body, the wolf shedding its fur.
Shocked and afraid, the man follows it to his knees before the boy he
had saved from death with his parents.
In a way, he wondered if the boy would have rather died with his family,
or to have lived and had his innocence ripped out of his heart as how Monty’s
claws tore out the heart of the elder vampire, his wolf-snout consuming it into
him.
Remembering
last night’s events, Monty feels his stomach churn. Now in human form, his body rejects the human
flesh consumed and demonic beasts it ate.
The bloody vomit was enough to almost put Monty over the edge but what
he could barely remember was far worse.
It was not for the morphine, Monty would have felt every one of his
bones change, shifting into his new form under the full moon. He would have felt the pain of his heart
stopping and reshaping, his kidneys erupting and then reforming into the new
body of a wolf.
After
purging himself as best he could, Monty places a bloodied hand on the boy’s
shoulder.
“I cannot
help you. I cannot help myself now. Stay here until help comes, as I’m sure it
will. With all this damage, I am sure
someone will find you.” With that Monty
stumbles out into the light, his hand shielding his sensitive eyes. He looks down at his shredded clothes and
shrugs. It was nothing that this part of
town hadn’t seen before, same as the gallons of blood over him.
Staggering
home, Monty collapses onto his bed, his heart still beating fast. He closes his eyes and his dreams send him
right back to the night he managed to survive…
It began after the change, after Monty was no longer human,
after the soiled blood from another lycan had infected him too, damming his
soul forever. The beast, facing another
monster of equal damnation, roared and flung its body at it. The two beats hit the floor and collided like
trains, fur and scales flying up like sparks.
After a few minutes of a struggle, the vampire stands above
his cowering enemy. After years of
mortal fighting experience, Caspian would not likely fall to such a weakling, high
off morphine and probably much less intelligent than he.
“Pity, mortal, of how your soul has
too, become soiled. But now, I will
reunite with the woman I love!” He turns towards the circle and calls out her
name, his voice changing into a more demonic one, “Eliza! Eliza!
I know you’re out there! Come to
me! Be with me!” Then a girl does appear out of the red mist,
her eyes filled with tears of blood, her voice as shrill as a banshee. Seeing her, the vampire smiles and draws
closer to her. The beast was pushed back
as the wolf’s body collides with it, sending the both of them into the opposite
wall. The girl’s head turns to follow
the beasts, fighting each other once again.
After the struggle, the wolf stands before the girl, its
chest heaving up and down, cuts all over him.
The vampire rises only seconds later and staggers over to stand beside
the wolf, as though receiving some award.
The girl places her chilled fingertip on the vampire’s lips and breathes
in his scent.
“Eliza,”
Caspian sighs, feeling reunited with his love.
“Shhh…” she says, taking her love by surprise at how shrill
her voice changed in death. “Did the Lord not say, Sir Caspian? You
killed me.”
“No, t’was the beast, my love!”
“No, my darling dove, it was you! Do you not remember driving your fangs into
my neck, sucking out my life into your own soul? Do you not remember how I screamed for mercy,
screamed for God’s Light?” she accuses, her finger scratching Caspian’s face. He winces but not out of physical pain, his mind
returning with the images she spoke of, moments he had cut out of his mind long
ago with the heart he broke not long afterwards at her burial.
“Didn’t
I tell you, Caspian… Bad things would happen when you don’t listen to me,”
cackles the vampire, throwing its arms upwards in a demonic glory. Eliza stiffens but does not back down.
“You killed me… I was the chosen one, God’s child. Could you not tell from my name?”
“Dominika…”
murmurs Caspian, realizing what a fool he was.
“Hahahahah!!!
See what a fool you are now, Caspian Rupert?
I made you fall for the one whom God would punish if harmed! Ha!” laughs the
demon. “Now my Father will have to take me back! Now the Devil’s will has been upheld!”
“Arghgh!”
bellows Caspian, glaring back at the wolf beside him, recovering from their
duel.
“Suffer for thy sin!
Be banished to Hell!” orders the banshee, commanding the wolf to do her
bidding. In a moment, the wolf snaps to
attention and before Caspian can stop him, plunges his clawed arm through the
vampire’s chest, ripping out his heart.
Waking,
drenched in sweat, Monty retches out his stomach again. Now was his real test, the time when God
would turn his back. This wasn’t like
before, when he had gotten himself into drugs, prostitution, and gangs… This
was when even Jesus couldn’t save him.
This was up to him to either give into the monster he now was or fight
who the Devil had made him, hoping to perhaps sever these demon wings that
Caspian had passed to him for the wings of an angel’s.
Epilogue
This short story you read contained a
few pivotal characters which represent metaphorical and theoretical themes and
ideals of our modern day society…
Sir Caspian Rupert (The Elder Vampire)
This
character was a prestigious knight under the King and Queen of England in
around the 1400s. However, in the midst
of a battle in the Ottoman Empire and the Crusades, he was infected with a
demon whom attached to his soul. A few
others among his party also were bitten as he was and became infected. Fearing for their lives, each one seemed to
die or kill themselves. Caspian was
unaware that other forces were killing them and they called themselves The 7,
demon, werewolf, and vampire hunters in short.
When
Caspian returned from the Crusades, he was revered and the King gave him a
strong title and lands. However, not
long after returning, strange things began to happen to him and the lands he
ruled over. Strange killings began to
occur and people were dying, all except for Caspian.
The
townsfolk began to be suspicious of their Lord and one day rampaged through the
castle, finding him drinking the blood of their women. They burned him and set the mansion aflame,
storming out. However, it was then that
Caspian’s vampire emerged in its full voice and power, saving the man from the
death he suffered back in the Crusades.
After
the fire died, the castle still stood but everything inside was destroyed, even
the heart of the Lord who built it.
However, years later, Caspian fell in love with a young maiden who lived
in a castle near to his. After repairing
the damage, he invited her over multiple times.
He finally proposed but only to have her accept. Then, fearing of what he is, he told her one
night and she asked him to prove it to her, drink her blood.
Confused
and tempted by his love for her, he did but the beast inside was stronger than
his love died in his arms. After, he
shut himself out from the world and vowed never to love again, never to meet
with another mortal. In this state of
isolation, the man who once was inside the demon’s body shriveled away and some
may argue died.
Only
recently in the modern day, after the mansion he lived in stands a haunted
museum, does Caspian make his presence known.
The vampire inside him tricks him into returning back into society to
perhaps resurrect his love. Tricked and
haunted by her image, he goes forth to do the Devil’s bidding.
This character represents the
corruption of political leaders and society, how the mighty fall. Originally, Caspian is a prestige Lord of the
lands and very highly educated, a fan of later-day Shakespeare and poetry. His dialogue is filled with poetry and
metaphorical connections which hint the reader on his past life and what he
longs for.
The demon he refers to is his own
vampire side who develops a personality over time. In his mind, Caspian feels as though this
creature is not a part of him, not of his own mind but in reality, it is. His own beast is awakened in the transformation
and lives on as the beast he so fears.
In the end, this persona
manipulates this strong man by playing with his emotions of fear and shame in
what he is but cannot control.
Monty Yabets (Werewolf)
Monty
Yabets is a low-life, an old high school dropout and a sucker. His parents never were around and he grew up
on his own two-legs, pretty much anything that got him by. Later in his life this continues and drives
him into the wrong crowd, leading to drinking, run-ins with police, DUIs,
smoking, drugs, prostitution, and the black market.
After
becoming this beast, Monty is riven and no longer wants to live, seeing as how
he kills people and has the strong potential to, as did Caspian (his first
victim). He begins to develop his own
fear of his capabilities, as did Caspian but later he runs from his past and
incoming future, heading somewhere to isolate himself. There, however, he finds a group of natives
living in the mountains of America. He
lives among them and one night transforms and infects the tribe. Bit by bit they develop a pack of their own
and their men become stronger than Monty.
They begin to hate him and drive him out of their pack, branding him a
lone omega wolf.
He
later finds love for the Shaman Woman, sparred of the wolf-curse for her
healing abilities. The other wolves of
her tribe know not to harm her and Monty begins to learn to do the same. Shocked at how his moons can be blocked out
by love, he wants to know more of how this happens. However, one night he rampages and harms her
unintentionally. Scared again he leaves,
unaware that The 7 were trailing him…
The name Yabets is related from Cain’s clan in the Bible. In Latin it means sorrow and grief, a
foreshadowing sign of the curse that Sir Caspian Rupert’s line passed
down. This is also a direct connection
to how Grendel might feel, learning he is a spawn of Satan himself, which also
links back to how Caspian feels at having such a devil inside him.
This character represents how monsters
are born out of blood, a cursed line or genetic alteration for gain the
psychopathic mind its drive. The
werewolf is one of the most classic monsters and hybrids because there is a
very clear divide between what is rational (man) and the beast (the wolf). Humans seem to despise things that seem
unsophisticated or inhumane, which is what animals are. Their animal mind-states are violent and gory
because they don’t have as developed emotions or rational thinking, which is
why they kill their prey without thinking about how gross it looks or how it
hurt the animal. At one time, we humans
were just like them until we evolved in to higher animals, apart from them as
we hoped we became. With monsters or people
who are perceived as monsters, they have a stronger connection to that primate
side we thought we all forgot, the side that is not afraid to kill or be
killed.
the child (becomes Maleko Demyen)
After
witnessing things he didn’t understand, the child is rescued and sent to an
orphanage. Soon after at around the age
of fifteen, he is broken out by a secret society known as The 7. They heard of his accident and the mystery
surrounded at how a monster had killed all those people inside the bar.
After
years with living among The 7, he is trained in the art of war and
assassination. He develops a strong
connection to the demonic forces of evil and can locate their powers on
earth. The 7 use him as one of their
own, inducting him into their organization with his new name, Maleko Demyen.
Maleko
goes on to track down his past and find the monster that saved him, unsure of
exactly why and how this werewolf did it.
The hunter’s vision is always to purge the earth of all demons but
Maleko is certain that God saved him that night to continue The 7’s work. He is gradually driven insane with a strong
drive, connecting the dots in all the most sadistic ways until he finds himself
in America, hunting down the werewolf.
He
comes across the beast among a native American tribe in the mountains and gets
there right after Monty leaves. He falls
in love with the Shaman girl and tries to ‘save’ her from her own tribe, not
knowing they would not harm her. This
leads to great internal conflict between love and his God-sworn duty.
The child’s character is only just
introduced in the snippet of the story but serves a strong purpose as the
redeemer or the self-serving-Salvationist.
The name Maleko means pledged to Mars and warlike as Demyen means tamer or tamer of beasts in Latin.
Latin is a strong background for The 7 so all their names are inspired
from directly from the Bible or Ancient Rome.
Maleko’s internal conflict about his
feelings are what make him a strong monster.
In the plot and characters, you see how Caspian was tortured and
desperate for death as a release to his monstrous state. Then how Monty begins to get his life
together, eventually taming his own beast and overcoming his fate. However, Maleko is the only one who starts
pure and is corrupted, driven to insanity and becomes the real monster, driven
by some cult and translation of the Bible which calls him to kill those whom he
deems unfaithful or unclean.
This purging of the unclean was
inspired from the witch hunts in the 1800s and how everyone was fearful of the
dark arts and black magic potential, all a scam from the Church trying to
convert the pagan culture or get rid of them.
Eliza Dominika (Lover to Rupert)
This character didn’t have a lot of
plot for a reason. She is more of a
wispy character herself, mimicking her ghost form. Her last name means chosen by God or God’s
child and plays off of how Caspian kills her, his ultimate test seeming to come
from God. This gave the demon inside him
to manipulate and tempt him into other rash decisions. It just shows that every monster has a point
when they could no longer return, something in them than never will be the
same.
Also is shows that everyone has a
pressure point, not everyone is pure and wholesome on the outside, for Eliza
was a temptress and quite manipulative herself, asking her love to ‘prove’ his
words to her.
In her death signified the tip of the
plot and what drives Caspian over the edge.
However, because she was glorified under God and then died at the
Devil’s hand, she becomes a wandering spirit in her death, a banshee which
haunts her love.
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