Why?

Was it three? Or four? The days since I got cursed to live in this blasted world. It's not rational. I know that. Be it swearing at the world or swearing at it right now.

GHAAAA

The monster screamed as if to mock my thought. Three sharp scythes-like claws penetrated the wooden door like paper, stopping inches from my sternum. It jolted me, my legs moved on their own, dragging my stoned self away from the shaking door, and further into the room.

I swore, my head darting from side to side, eyes furiously searching for something, anything I could use to best some seconds, minutes if lucky, of life.

The monster plunged its claws in and out of the door, once more. The door didn't break but not for long, it was but a matter of seconds. Incessantly and repeatedly the monster didn't halt its hail. The door shook violently with every strike, and the hinges squealed threatening to give way under sheer force.

A couch, a refectory table, a chess set, another couch, two small rackets, and a tennis table. I didn't waste a breath and moved behind the last. The table tennis table is relatively lengthy, I could use it to keep the monster at a distance, a distance that its claws won't reach, hopefully. It's not particularly sturdy though, and I doubt it will last very long against the monster's ruthless strength.

I put both hands on the table's frame end, then pushed lightly as a test. Not heavy, but it's all that I've got. I regretted separating from the rifle and the backpack where the bayonet is stored. I regret giving up the rusted axe too, though, I admit, I only remembered it now that I'm in need of it.

GHAAAA

Another scream, as the onslaught intensity increased, the hinges squealed more and more, as well as the banging of the abused, wooden door against its frame. I crouch over the table, readying to launch at any moment. My eyes were fixed on the door, not blinking.

It took more time than I expected, but soon the door isn't hindering it anymore.

The first thing to give up isn't the hinges, but the sole barrel bolt that maintained it closed. When the door opened the monster still had its claw buried in it, eliminating its charge advantage and giving me a moment to steel my nerves and look at its mutilated body.

It's injured.

Its earlier struggle with the hatch door hadn't gone entirely well for it, hell it has gone terribly. The closing wall door wasn't merciful, to say the least. And it left the Shredder in a state where I wonder how is it still alive... no seriously, how the fuck is it not dead?

That is less than half of its body.

It is in no way an exaggeration. Only its grotesque, fish-like head and its left arm remain. From its right shoulder diagonal to its left ribs, anything below that is gone, save for protruding, crushed bones. Viscous, dark grey liquid dripped from it, painting the ground where it reeled with its one arm. I winced as a putrid smell assaulted my nose and lungs.

I inhaled deeply and drove the table forward with all my might. The Shredder noticed it, took its claws from the door, then lunged once, with its only remaining arm, in my direction. It didn't have the opportunity to pounce a second time as the table's surface edge crashed on its neck, or more precisely at the small space between its head and torso. I felt its weight add resistance to my push but didn't hinder me from veering slightly slamming it on the wall.

KKHAAAA

The monster struggled, swinging its long arm to my head. Air stuck in my throat as the three scythes-like claws passed right in front of my eyes. The air pressure from their passage stung my face. It couldn't reach me. But that didn't hinder it from trying again and again. Each time felt like death's kiss, cold and sour.

I gritted my teeth and moved my head back and forth instigating it to target my head and only my head. It's stupid, ridiculous, and suicidal but it worked. The monster swung its arm left and right trying to put my head to pieces, omitting the table from its list of targets.

I don't know if it was because of my taunting or because the table is barely long enough to be out of its zone, but the monster, fortunately, only want to cut me, not the obstacle preventing it from cutting me. Which works in my favor... for now.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Yet that doesn't make it any way easier. The Shredder even with but one arm is not weak, and I can barely hold it in place. I felt my muscle straining, arms and legs. My back and shoulder screaming abuse as the stitches are likely long given up.

I bit down my bottom lip when a claw succeeded at cutting above my left eye, on my eyebrow, almost gouging my eye out. Blood trickled into my eye and over onto my cheek, compelling me to blink repeatedly.

But I didn't let go and I pushed even more.

Could a wooden table kill it if the reinforced hatch door couldn't?

It could. Of course, it could... that's what I need to believe. Besides don't they say if it bleeds it can die?

I just need to hold, hold, and hold until I could no more. The other option is to let go and run away in the hope my two legs will be faster than a disabled monster. And it's likely what I would do in case the table couldn't obstruct it anymore. However, the reasons why I didn't, were, one, it was bleeding, cert it was dark, viscous, and putrid yet its blood nonetheless, or at least I hope so. And second, I still doubt I could outrun it, not when the closest hatch is now closed, and opening it would delay me.

The monster screamed, trashed, and swung its bladed arm with madness and intensity. It wants me dead, even if it had to dismember itself... more than it already did.

The Doubts that I had suppressed since the beginning intruded my mind as time passes and the creature with less than half a body isn't stopping.

Seconds pass, then minutes, how much? Hours? I don't know, it may as well be days, it isn't, but it felt like it is. By now I completely closed my left eye, the blood is stinging. My muscles, my right arm specifically, felt they would give up at any moment now. My breath was ragged and uneven. I'm running out of steam too.

It's when the thought of better try my luck running from it, sprung to mind that the first encouraging signs started to show up. It was a slight delay at first, between each strike, the monster would take a moment. That moment was half a breath at first, then one full breath, and now it's three. The delay got longer and longer.

Then there is the force the Shredder put behind its lashes, which is getting slower and presumably weaker. I could hardly follow its swings with my eyes initially, it was but a shadow. But now I can see it, more and more.

... it's working.

Was it the bleeding? Is running out of stamina too? Or... it could also be a guise to get me to lower my guard. No, that doesn't seem right. Had the monster been so cunning to resort to deceit it wouldn't have let a weak, wooden obstacle hinder it from cutting down its prey.

No matter, I just had to hold some more, a little bit more. Strangely the 'little bit more' felt all but little. The time seems to stretch. Each time the monster lashes out a strike a voice cried in my mind 'this is the last'. But it isn't, the Shredder always finds strength for another.

The pause between each strike soon turned into dozen seconds. Wherever the thought of letting go, the monster surprises me. It's as if it knew what I'm thinking. However, even then, the injuries it had sustained aren't something it could brush off, even if it was a monster. Rather it's because it's a monster, that it stayed alive until now.

Fuck it.

I decided it was the moment to move when the lengthy arm rested on the table unmoving for over half a minute. I let go of the table and got out of the room in desperate haste, puffing and gasping for air, my knee felt weak, and my arms strongly shaking. I rushed with as much as my drained body allowed me.

The monster isn't dead yet but I don't want to stay at its side any longer, I wasted enough time and energy on it already. Besides, I don't have anything with which to bring the final hit.

And there may be others.

How did it get in here? And how many of them? A lot of scenarios running through my mind but none of them is anywhere near positive.

I followed the dark grey liquid on the ground to its source; the closed hatch. The scene is... I squeezed my nose after I pushed the button on the side wall. I tried not to look at the revolting butchered half of the monster, lest I throw up, yet the squishy sound the hatch released its hold on it isn't helping.

It was when I skirted the horrific spectacle and passed through the hatch that I heard a disturbing sound behind me.

"You rotten shit!"

It followed me. It still had the strength to move, with one arm it crawled, slow cert but steady. I... that's fucking terrifying. It never stops unless dead... or it killed me. That left me shocked, but it also put strongly one question in my mind.

Why?

It wants to kill me I got that but why?

The act of killing would be as long as there are livings susceptible to death. In other words always. Animals kill to either defend themselves or to feed themself. Humans on the other hand have more reasons to recur such an irremediable act. Killing for financial gain, inheritance, robbery, or gang warfare for common people, and wars for nations. More than one motive: love, lust, or loathing.

Nevertheless, there is always a motive however small it is, like jealousy or a misinterpreted glare.

This is why I couldn't understand, why is it going to such lengths to kill me. Then again they are monsters and trying to find a reason behind their action is absurd, foolish, and crazy in its own right. And that would be true, yet I couldn't shake it off.

They don't eat their mutilated prey, but they are ready to disregard their preservation instinct to kill that prey. That sounds pointless and against the law of nature.

Moreover, Where do they get their energy if they don't eat what they kill?

I shook my head and took a couple of steps toward the half-dead abomination, then reached the red button on the wall to my side. I waited a little bit then pushed it. The monster's advance was slow allowing me to accurately determine its position and when it was most convenient to close the hatch.

"I wonder... will you make it through this time?"

It didn't.

I turned on my heels leaving behind a ghostly wail and the sound of meat and bones being crushed.