Finally, I’m home. Thank the Gods. The front door of my house has not looked this beautiful in years.
I wish I could feel like I made more progress on this excursion, though. While I didn’t feel the urge to stab anyone like I did with that insufferable Arukeist, I did have to tap out of conversations pretty quickly after starting them on account of them being boring as fuck and the boneheaded sheep just pissing me off with their… general sheepness. Oh, I have a wife and two kids, they’re the light of my life, the littler one is really big into dinosaurs right now. I don’t give a shit. I hate kids.
Right, well, anyway - I’m almost home now, and I don’t have to think about that shit anymore. All I have to think about now is getting some food. I’m starving.
I step up to the front door and enter the house. No one shouts a greeting, which is expected, as I don’t think I was away for long enough for Abe to get home yet. I take off my shoes and step out of the hall --
The animal approaches.
It looks straight at me with its blue eyes and meows a greeting. I freeze as it pads to my feet and rubs up against my shins with a trill, its tail high, tip hooked. It weaves between my legs and meows and meows, and I know what it means.
It wants me to play. It wants me to fetch a toy and make it chase it. It wants to be entertained, and it’s asking me nicely to indulge it.
Why? Why? I haven’t given it any attention in weeks, and it should know by now that this won’t work. What is making it think that this time will be any different?
“Mrrow!” it says again. So hopeful. Yet I can’t give it what it wants. To do so would be to show that I care. That I’m still attached. And HE would reject me. And I would die. No. I have to stay strong.
“Mrrrow!”
I clench my jaw. Why doesn’t it understand? Stupid fucking animal. I’m not going to play with it.
I suddenly remember the dream I had this morning. The one where I was hunting and came across it. Where I couldn’t bring myself to harm it.
Should I correct that mistake now?
My heart twists at the thought, and that’s precisely why I have to do it. If it hurts, it must be working. That’s why I have to draw back my shin. Slowly, so that it won’t figure out what I’m about to do. Tense the shin, prime it for what’s to come. A swift kick. Something that’ll tell it with no ambiguity that I’m not its friend anymore. Something that’ll make sure that it will never ask me to play with it again.
It’s looking at me. Its tail bends and twists with anticipation. So innocent. But it will yowl soon. It will feel pain. Betrayal. It will give me the most heartbroken look that an animal can before it’ll run away and hide. And then I’ll never hear it meow for me again. It might even hiss at me.
No, enough of that. Just do it. Just kick the fucker. Show that you’re a real Helixian. Show that you have no attachments. Show that you’re worthy of godhood. Show it.
My raised foot trembles. The animal blinks.
I lower the foot.
It would bring me harm to kick it. It might injure it and cause vet bills. It would make the others ask why the animal is avoiding me. I am only being sensible by refraining from this act.
In any case, I should get out of here. I don’t have the energy for this right now. And leaving is another way of telling it that I’m not going to play. I should leave, then.
I put my shoes back on. It realizes what that means and protests with another meow. Tough. I slip through the door without looking back and slam it shut.
I take a deep breath. Okay. You’re okay. Just… go somewhere. Go to the library and buy freshly baked pastry from the café. One of those sounds really good right about now… thinking about that makes me even hungrier, though. I should focus on my surroundings instead.
That plan works for me alright as I start my journey to the supermarket. It is still a pretty day. The moment I arrive at the library, however, is when I remember something that sours my mood.
Right. There’s no café there anymore. Only a reeking deli. If I want a pastry, I’m going to have to go to the supermarket.
Fine. A longer walk isn’t that bad. I’ll get my hands on a pastry in no time. While I’m here, though…
I gargle up some saliva and spit it down on the asphalt. There. Let that foamy lump be a warning to any other enjoyers of decency. And who says people like me don't do good deeds.
I lift my head up high and continue on my way. After what felt like much too long, I finally arrive at the supermarket - but there's a commotion at the front again. And what do you know, it's the same people as before. You'd think they would’ve given up by now. In a way, I admire their resilience. And in a way, I almost pity them - they too have found themselves imprisoned by their own emotions. But I suppose, more than either of those, I feel… pride. Pride at the fruits of my labor.
But I do hope I can slip by either unnoticed or with a quick 'no'. I'm here for destressing, not distressing. Man. Sometimes I wish I had friends I could say these puns to.
I approach the doors with a brisk pace I intend to keep no matter what. I dive into the crowd and manage to take a few steps until someone lightly grabs my arm. Alright, I was prepared for this. I turn to the culprit and --
“Excuse me, sir, have you...”
The word to speak is simple, but some group of neurons decides to block it with rage. They’ve seen the man that slammed the lid of an iron maiden onto me last night, and they’ve forgotten that it was simply a dream. It doesn’t help that the man has left his own sentence unfinished. It locks my eyes onto his face in anticipation. His dopey, dopey face. But it’s not just his expression that I can’t seem to escape - something is off.
His veins. His veins and arteries. I can see them. They sprawl along his face like the roots of some fungus, diving into his sockets and orifices. Was he always this pale? Is this some reaction his body is having to the copious amounts of crying he’s done judging by his reddened eyes? No, somehow it doesn’t look unhealthy. I’m not repulsed as I would be at signs of sickness - instead, I’m drawn in. Those red and blue lines are so vivid in their color, they’re like… they’re like candy. Sweet, juicy… plump. Full of blood. So full that it feels like the blood would just squirt right out if pricked with a needle. It would spray right onto me, my skin, my mouth...
He’s talking to me now. I think he’s talking about recognizing me from before but still wanting to ask if I’ve seen her sister. He holds up the photo, but I can barely give it a glance before I have to return to that spectacle on his face. With enough focus, I can see the minute changes in the pressure of those tubes. The squash and stretch as his muscles move. The pulses of blood that originate from his heart. His heart…
My gaze slides down to his chest. Deep in there resides that beautiful, colorful organ. Day and night it ceaselessly works to keep that blood flowing. So diligent. Yet this man gives it no thanks. He takes it for granted, even makes it work overtime with unnecessary stress.
“Sir, are you okay?”
I look back at his face. Wrinkles above the eyebrows. Slightly ajar mouth. Confused. At my behavior.
“...Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” I respond with lazy lips, and he goes back to his speech.
But am I okay? Am I okay with this? No, I can’t be okay with this. He doesn’t deserve that heart. And if I’m twice the man he’ll ever be, why shouldn’t I take it for myself? If I had two hearts, neither would have to work as hard anymore. They could work in shifts, one doing what a heart’s meant to do while the other takes a well-deserved break. I’ll give that heart a good home. I’ll let it live in a body that trains regularly and eats a healthy diet. This dude doesn’t, just look at him. He’s taller than me, and yet I have not a cloud of doubt that I could kick his ass. I could kill him with my bare hands. Eat him alive. Tear off chunks of muscle with my teeth, swallow them, digest them, put their bioenergy into much better use. Oh, Gods. How good it would taste, especially with those candy-like veins on top. I’m so hungry. I have to…
“What are you doing?”
He raised his hands. He stepped back. Because I… stepped forward. To lunge at him? Bite him in the neck? In this crowd? In broad daylight?
What the hell am I doing? I was just supposed to say ‘no’ and move on. Not this… this. I… oh, fuck. Just leave.
“Sorry, nothing,” I quickly say. “I’ll, uhh, let you know if I see anything.”
Before he can respond, I slip through the automatic doors. I don’t stop until I’ve passed through the store gates, something that’ll keep me from walking right back.
This was a bad idea. I should have learned by now that I shouldn’t be around anyone if I need to get myself back together. I just need to grab that snack from somewhere, buy it and get out. Eat it in the woods or something. Anywhere I can be alone.
Okay, let’s see. Where did they keep the pastries again…?
I sneak across the store like a lost rodent, peeking into every aisle I pass by and changing course whenever I feel like I’ve found a right turn, but time and time again I’m mistaken. What kind of logic does this place follow? How are clothes related to cheese? Why not have the fresh pastries near the bread? No, there are only packaged ones. I don’t want those - I didn’t come all this way for something conveyor belt flavored.
It doesn’t help either that each time the signs seem a little harder to read. And each time I turn around, my steps get heavier… it must be my blood sugar dropping down. All this stress is just burning me out faster. Thoughts get blurred, repeated, forgotten only seconds later… hey, I was in this aisle already. Which way did I turn last time? Left? Guess I’ll take the right…
Oh my Gods. There it is! Freshly baked pastries. Croissants, donuts, cinnamon buns. They are sweet, they are greasy, they are…
Well, they’re…
They’re fine, I guess. They’re exactly as pastries should be. But…
Now that they’re in front of me, I just don’t… want them.
I don’t want to eat wheat. I don’t want to eat plant matter. But I’m still hungry. I want something. What do I --
A salty, metallic flavor invades my consciousness.
Without even thinking, I lick my lips, catching more blood from the chapped skin. That’s exactly it, that’s what I want. I want flesh. I want the meat of a creature that once had a pulse. Or still has…
No! Don’t go down that route. Just buy some meat. There’s a food counter right beside the pastries, get it from there? No, better not. You should avoid human contact as much as you can right now. Get the refrigerated stuff - you just passed that aisle just a while ago.
I backtrack my steps and see the appetizing pink of ham. Yes, that, I want that. I open the shelf door and snatch the package, nearly missing thanks to the ever-thickening haze in my head. The soft touch of the flesh underneath my thumb nearly has me sink my teeth into it already, but no, I need to be a person for just a few moments longer. Fingers clutching the package strongly enough to almost tear it, I close the door and turn to where I at least kind of think the checkouts are.
Wait. Past the aisle, on the floor - a red puddle. Is that...
No, it can’t be blood. Why would there be blood on the floor of a supermarket? It has to be ketchup or juice or something. Yes, that’s it. Of course it isn’t blood. Nobody’s hurt, nobody’s bleeding, and that’ll become clear as day as soon as I get past these shelves --
Someone’s lying in the puddle. Face down, motionless.
Well… alright, that’s a bit more alarming… but maybe he took a fall. He does look pretty old. He took a fall and he landed on whatever he was carrying, which happened to be filled with some red fluid, and it burst open and made that puddle. That is what happened. Unfortunately, now that I’ve clearly noticed him, I’m obligated to help or else they’ll catch me being criminally negligent on surveillance tapes. What a pain in the ass…
I walk over to him, circling the puddle to avoid getting whatever that stuff is on my shoes. I crouch next to his face and reach for his shoulder --
No.
That smell is unmistakable. It is blood.
Despite my awakening dread, I grab the man's shoulder. No reaction. I fit the ham in my pocket, grab the man with both hands and flip him over.
His entrails stay on the floor.
The smell surges like a sudden gust. Not just blood - all the odors of an opened abdominal cavity, its organs, its fluids. I recoil, nearly falling on my ass, but fortunately find my balance in time to stand upright. Still, my eyes stay nailed to the carnage.
What is… behind this? What would cause this? Did a rabid animal barge in and maul this guy? Is it still at large? Am I in danger?
I pause my breathing to listen for any clues - but the store's gone silent. Unbearably silent.
I look around, and what I see is even worse.
Puddles and smears of red coat the once-white floors. Bodies lay strung about here and there, some intact, others ripped apart. I creep to another aisle - same thing. Next one, same thing. Same thing, same thing, same thing. It’s really starting to seem like I’m the only one alive --
Something moved.
Something’s standing at the end of this aisle. Someone. Looks human. Has human hands. Stained by blood.
Was it him? Did he kill all these people? Did he have the same thoughts I had here last time, but lacked the luck that snapped me back to reality? He kinda looks like me. He might think like me, too. Right now, he’s frozen just like I am. Just standing there.
I don’t want to move, afraid I’ll trigger an attack - but I have to get my knife. I have to be able to defend myself.
I grab the hilt --
Blood.
Blood on my hands. They’re all red. Trembling.
And so are his.
That’s a mirror.
No. No, I couldn’t have. I’ve been shopping just like anyone else. When could I have done all this? It’s impossible! Yet the blood, the blood is there, and my knife…
I slide it out. The blade is red.
Oh shit. I need to get out of here.
I dash from aisle to aisle, careful not to slip on any blood or disembodied organs, looking for any sign of the checkouts. Though will I even be able to get through? Surely they’ve seen me on my rampage through the surveillance already. But will they have the power or courage to try and stop me? Could they have guns? No one has guns in Hojo…
Wait! Maybe there’s a chance the surveillance is broken today or that no one’s looked at it yet. If that’s the case, I may even be able to get away scot-free! I just have to get this blood off my hands. But how can I do that? I can’t wipe it on my clothes, it’ll still show. Unless…
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
With great care not to stain any visible area, I slip my thumb underneath the waist of my pants. I pull it outwards to allow my other hand to enter the space inside, and that other hand props it up enough to let me slip my first hand in. Alright, fantastic! I rub both hands against the insides of my pants, hoping dearly that there won’t be enough blood to seep through. It seems that there isn’t, but the blood is also taking its sweet time coming off --
“Hey!”
I look up and freeze. A man in a dark green shirt has entered the aisle, and he’s looking straight at me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, approaching. Oh Gods. Why is he even doing that? He has no weapon on him. Doesn’t he know how much I’ve slaughtered? He… can’t be aware, no. If he knew, he wouldn’t dare to approach. But then what the hell is he confronting me about --
“Get those hands outta your pants!”
...Ohhh.
Well, this is quite awkward.
“I said take ‘em out!” he shouts again. It’s looking like he’s going to come take them out himself if I don’t comply.
But… I can’t take them out. He’ll see the blood. He’ll figure things out. Should I just kill him? I’d have to be fast and get no more blood on me, though --
No, I’ve got it! Why didn’t I think of this before?
“Oh, thank the Gods you’re here!” I yell. “There’s a --”
I’ve pulled out my hands to present the blood I would claim to have bled. Only there isn’t any.
The clerk’s frown deepens. “A what?”
I glance behind me. The floors are stainless white.
“You’re gonna have to leave now,” says the clerk.
I inspect my hands over and over, but all traces of the blood have vanished. As the clerk extends his hand to grab me, I lift them up.
“I, uhh, sorry,” I say. “My bad. I won’t be any more trouble. Can you, uhh, still let me buy this?” I gesture to the ham sticking out of my pocket. At least that didn’t fall out during this whole thing.
The clerk eyes me and the ham. “If you behave,” he begrudgingly says.
I nod eagerly and follow the clerk to the checkouts, where he watches me as I purchase the ham. Despite my company, the woman behind the counter still serves with the usual level of professionality, but her smile wavers at the words the clerk mutters after I’m done.
“Be sure to wash your hands.”
A bright red glow on my face, I exit the store. I cross the parking lot without delay and keep going until I’ve reached the graveyard.
I sit on the bench and stare at the ham in my hands.
I’ve never hallucinated from low blood sugar before, but maybe it’s a thing. Or maybe I fell halfway asleep. I don’t know. I just know that I better eat this now.
Even though I’ve completely lost my appetite.
"Hi!" rings Abe's greeting from the kitchen as soon as I open the front door. Unfortunately for him, I have neither the will nor the energy to answer.
I kick off my shoes for what I pray will be the last time today and shuffle towards the stairs. Catching a glimpse of the animal’s white fur further cements my plan to head directly for my bedroom and stay there for the remainder of the day. It'd seem very boring if it wasn't for the fact that I'm perfectly ready to already call it a night.
Sixteen steps and what feels like an hour later, I bust through my room’s door and flop onto my bed face first. It's not as dark as I would've liked with the sun shining through the window, but it matters little as sleep already knocks at the back of my mind. I let it in, and reality blurs away...
----------------------------------------
Where is it?
I glance left and right and back and forth, but all I see are trees. Pines, spruces, all swaying and creaking in the wind that howls with a wolf's voice. They spread out their branches as if waiting for an unsuspecting passerby to snatch away. Their needles wiggle like thousands of spider legs, eager to get their claws on me to do who knows what. Needless to say, I steer clear of them, sticking to the well-tread path of dirt and dead needles.
Up above, in the few spots where the branches don't obscure it, the deep blue velvet of the sky peeks through, along with a few little stars. Their faint, cold light is the only illumination the forest receives. Thanks to this, I can barely see two meters in front of me, which makes my search no easier. I suppose I just have to keep going until I bump into it.
Wait… what is 'it'? What exactly am I looking for?
Clank. Clank. Clank.
What’s that? Sounds like a machine of some kind. A big one.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
It’s coming closer. Shit. I don’t know what it is, but what if it’s… you know, possessed? I better go hide just in case. I jump off the path --
Shlorp.
And instantly regret it as the moss gives in under my feet and I find myself knee-deep in sludge. Oh Gods, my shoes are drenched… ugh, wading through this isn’t going to be anywhere near fast enough. I gotta return to the path and find some other option, fast.
The suction is strong, but with great effort, I manage to pull my foot out of the muck and hop closer to the path. That's one step, I'll need a couple more. Come on… yes, shlorp, we get it. Hurry up, the clanking is getting louder! I don't wanna get in the way of whatever that is!
The ground's already shaking, oh Gods. What am I even gonna do when once I get out of the sludge? I glance around… hold on, over there! A lone pine growing right on the edge of the path. Maybe, just maybe, I can hide behind it.
I pull my foot out of the sludge one more time, focus on the solid ground just a meter away, bend my supporting leg - and leap.
The foot meets the path! I crouch right away, and to my great relief, I get to keep my balance. But there’s no time to celebrate. Light is shining from behind the trees, growing brighter each moment - it’s the machine. The rays burning my back, I run to the pine. Up close, it’s thinner than I’d hoped, but it’ll have to do. I slip behind it and try my best to fit in its shadow. Curse these wide, masculine shoulders…
The clanking enters my stretch of the path. It’s here. But its rhythm isn’t changing -- it must not have spotted me… yet, at least. I hold my breath as it approaches, keeping a close eye on the light’s direction. As the shadow shifts, so do I. I tiptoe around the trunk at the same pace as the machine passes the tree. A cartoonish maneuver - but miraculously, it works.
The machine carries on at the same pace it arrived with. The clanking’s finally fading, and so is the light.
I can sigh in peace. I’m safe.
“Thought we missed you, huh?”
What?
Clank-clank cla-clank cla-clank cla-clank clank clank clank --
It's coming here!
Thwack!
Something strikes the tree hard enough to make me jump back on instinct, forgetting all about my plan to hide. The ground that meets my feet is lumpier than expected and I tumble down backwards.
As the last resort of a cornered animal, my body freezes up, and all I can do is gawk at the terror that stands before me.
Eight spindly, golden legs carry the weight of a coffin-shaped body. On its face, a mask - that mask. Only instead of holes in her sockets, she has two gleaming pitch-black eyes along with two smaller pairs next to them.
And on the creature's back, wearing a headlamp that obscures her face but still leaves visible the dark clothing and the pink --
"Hi," greets Michi. She pushes up the headlamp, revealing a grin most infuriating.
"Hi," greets Michi. She pushes up the headlamp, revealing a grin most infuriating.
Even through my terror, my hands form fists. "Y-you're supposed to be dead," I manage through my teeth.
"Well, I'm not, and doesn't that piss you off." She smirks, but soon frowns, leaning forwards onto the creature's head.
"Let's get to the point," she says and pats the monster's head. It raises its frontmost pair of limbs, flashing their unnervingly sharp tips, and plunges them into the dirt on my left and right. A dozen or so centimeters closer, they would have skewered my hands - ample reason to draw them to my chest and pay close attention to what the girl has to say.
She locks eyes with me - all innocence gone from those pale blues, replaced with only cold. She delivers her words without a waver.
"You need to confess."
Confess…?
Right. Of course she'd want that. But I…
“Well?” she demands.
This is not an easy thing to say with a car-sized six-eyed spider monster staring at you with murderous intent, but I don’t see much of a choice.
“I can’t,” I breathe.
The monster hisses sharply, and Michi narrows her eyes. “Yes, you can,” she says. “And unless you want to die right here and now, you will.”
Shit. So it’s either gonna be rotting in jail for the rest of my life or getting the kebab treatment.
Or… I do have one trick up my sleeve. It’s worth a shot…
I search my heart for all the misery and despair I can find and channel it through my face.
“I… I’m sorry,” I crow, voice breaking. “I-I’m sorry, but I had to do it! You don’t understand --”
The monster splits its mask into a maw of curved, sharp fangs. An infernal screech claws at my ears.
“Save it!” spits Michi. “You really think we’d pity you? The child murderer?”
“Well, I, uhh…I mean…” I raise my hands and force a chuckle. “Listen, can we just pause for a moment and discuss this?”
She frowns, but to my great shock, doesn’t immediately order the monster to kill me. Instead, she leans forward again. “We’re listening.”
I take a moment to catch my breath, but know my time is limited. “Alright, so...” I rub my hands together. “Since, um, I don’t want to die and you probably don’t want murder on your record, I’m thinking we could forgo that ‘killing me’ option...”
“So, you’ll confess?”
I glance away. “Well, about that… I was thinking that now that you’re clearly here and alive, that means no child murder was actually committed, and I… feel like it’d be quite annoying for both parties to deal with all the legal stuff that’s attached to these things, and so we could perhaps… just go our separate ways and forget all about this?”
Silence.
Is it a good silence?
Michi scowls. It’s not good.
“Kill him.”
A metal limb slams into my chest, squeezing out all air and knocking me onto my back. The monster pounces on me, lunging for my left arm with its maw wide and --
Fuck! Oh, Gods! That stings, stings! Screaming pain in my left forearm, it took its fangs and sunk them right in! Right between the bones! It’s like fire! She withdraws -- she withdraws, but the pain isn’t going away, no, it’s so bad, it’s so bad I can’t think of anything but my dissolving flesh. Dissolving, it really is dissolving, the skin is caving in by gravity alone. Blood pours out of the puncture wounds. Blood and other matter. I hear sizzling. The pain spreads to my torso. My lungs are bubbling. I can’t breathe. The venom creeps up my neck. Oh Gods, I’m really gonna die. My brain is going to melt. It’s already doing so. Patches of my vision go black and spread, spread. But my skin, my skin is still intact, it seems, if limp with no structures beneath. Oh Gods, there it comes, I can feel it. My thoughts shattering.
Death.
Wait. It’s gone.
It’s dark, soft, wet…
Oh, great, I get it now. It was just another nightmare. It was just a dream, and now it’s over. I’m awake in my own bed, safe. Though I’m not a fan of the cold sweat. Especially with my day clothes still on. Ugh, looks like I’ll have to change for tomorrow.
“Do you understand now?”
Oh fuck! Who --
Against the back wall, standing in the dark, it’s her.
“You will confess, or it’ll get even worse,” Michi says. What is she doing in my room? How did she get in? Shouldn’t she be dead?
“It’s not a hard choice,” she continues, glaring at me with those frigid eyes. “Jail isn’t even as bad as you deserve. I’m letting you off easy.”
Jail… or death. But not death. Only nightmares. Nightmares in which I die, which I suffer - but this reality remains reality.
This reality…
No, this isn’t real. This is another dream. In reality, Michi is dead, and if she was alive, she’d be smarter than this. She wouldn’t break into my house to taunt me, she’d go to the cops like a sensible person. She’d stay there for protection. She knows I’m a killer, someone to fear.
This one should know that, too.
At the sight of my determination, her expression wavers. “Is there really no convincing you?”
“No,” I say. “No, there is not.”
I get out of my bed and stand up straight. The clammy fabric of my shirt makes me shiver. I quickly unbutton it and throw it on the floor behind me. That’s better.
I lock eyes with Michi again and approach.
“What are you doing?” she asks, unnerved. “I can scream, you know. And then everyone will see us. I’ll tell them what you did.”
I hear steps. Hurried steps behind the door. A click, and the cracks light up - a shove of the door, and light floods in. In the frame stands Abe.
“What’s going on? What are you doing?” he shouts, but I’m not fooled. I lay my gaze on him and imagine him disintegrating into red dust.
It happens. I smile.
The lights flicker out, and the door closes on the pile of powder. Michi looks at the door, then at me. Stupefied.
I walk towards her. “Nice try.”
She backs up only to bump into the wall. “What do you mean?”
“You had your fun, but now this dream...”
I study the wallpaper behind Michi. Then, in an instant, it shreds to wrap around the girl. A startled gasp leaves her poor little lungs.
“...is a lucid dream.” I grin. Finally, things are going my way. A lucid dream is just what I need after these terrible past few days.
I’m going to get everything I can out of it.
I raise my right hand and bring it in front of the girl. She eyes it, expression quite alarmed.
“And that means...”
Shnk!
Blood spurts out the tips of my fingers, brought forth by the sharp, black talons that have shot out through the skin.
“We’re going to have my kind of dream.”
I snap my new claws, and with the reverberation of the loud click, cracks form in the surrounding walls and ceiling. The scene quakes, raining down dust and small debris. With a flick of my hand, all the furniture of the room decay into ash.
Another flick, and the ceiling and walls shatter, their pieces flinging out into the darkness around us. A gust of wind catches the piles of powder that once formed my dull, gray bedroom, scattering them into the void. Soon enough, nothing remains except for the strips of wallpaper still coiled around Michi.
The blackness brightens just slightly, becoming a deep blue adorned by thousands of sparkling stars. It reveals a familiar setting around us - the forest. As a last touch, I raise the full moon high above. Its cold light falls upon the scene, illuminating each detail my mind has been able to create.
This is perfect.
This is perfect.
I turn back to Michi. “There, the scenery’s ready. Now...”
I clasp her face with my hand. The talons prick her skin. She struggles - in vain, naturally. Boy, this makes me smile.
“If you think I’m going to give up killing just because of a few nightmares, you really don’t know me,” I murmur. “So let me set the record straight, once and for all.”
I focus and my body begins to change.
The bones lengthen, the muscles swell. They stretch my skin thinner and thinner, until -- rip, snap, rip. The limit is reached and broken. The futile tissue tears and peels off in bloody patches, exposing the beauty within. Fibers, tendons, ligaments, fasciae, all glistening from blood and plasma. And it so terrifies the girl!
Somewhere deep inside my neck, rows of sharp, conical teeth pierce the flesh. I cough out a bit of blood onto my lips. The taste is mouthwatering.
“It's time you see me for what I really am,” I rasp. She whimpers as she spots the new set of pearly whites peeking from my throat, forming into a predator’s jaws.
Above them, eyes begin to form. At first they see only darkness, but light shines in from my old mouth, brightening by the second as I push my new skull ahead - but the opening isn’t quite big enough. I’m stuck. Hm.
I let my left hand sprout claws of its own and bring both hands to the old human jaws. I shove in my talons and pull.
With an eruption of blood, the jaws pop apart. I tear away the remains of my previous head and cast them off to the side. My old eyes gone, the new eyes see clearly - and Michi sees them.
Glowing yellow eyes with little black pupils stare back at her terrified face. My torn up mouth pulls its corners into a toothy grin as my tailbone extends into a fully-fledged tail.
Here I am - the wolf.
Michi’s nerves give out. She begins squirming, screaming like a mouse in a blender, desperate for someone to hear and come save her. But no one’s here but us. The tiny girl and the wide-eyed walking corpse, its wet crimson surface shimmering in the moonlight.
I stomp down a bloody foot to halt her wailing. “Well?” I growl. “Do you see now?”
“Yes! Yes!” she screams. “Whatever you say, you freak! Just let me go!”
I let the wallpaper turn limp. Drenched by the many sprays of my blood, it tears apart from the smallest motions of the girl. She stares at her freed self, puzzled by my sudden compliance.
“Well, go ahead,” I say. “Run. Maybe you can get away this time.”
I step back and drop onto four limbs, preparing another wave of changes within my body. Michi blinks, then remembers her survival instinct and takes the chance I've provided her. Her pathetic little run is adorable to watch. It's like she only learned how to walk yesterday.
Now… to really live up to the title of Big and Bad.
I flex my talons in concentration, blood squeezing out of my hands. With a good, long stretch, I expand my bones even further. Tendons lengthen, muscle fibers duplicate. My heels rise off the ground for hind legs better built for running. My snout grows longer to fit even more teeth, more robust for an even stronger bite. Good… but I can take this further.
I will it, and two curved, milky-white horns snake out of my skull. On the other end of my body, my tail receives an arrow-headed tip. I am the beast I was in that previous dream, now fully realized in flesh. I whip my tail with pride, and note that I have become triple my size before. This should allow for the end I’ve planned for her. Now it’s time I make that happen.
With my mind’s eye, I locate a root crossing Michi’s trajectory and raise it. Well enough, it knocks into her shin and sends her face first into the ground.
I leap into a gallop, earth-quaking thumps heralding my approach, and reach her just as she’s managed to get back to her feet. Like a kitten playing with a ball of yarn, I swipe my paw at her, sending her rolling across the ground. She stops herself on her back, but freezes in horror before she can do much else.
“You’re not very good at this,” I sneer. “Now… you know what the Big Bad Wolf likes to do, don’t you?”
I lower my hand onto her, talons scraping the dirt around her shoulders, and grasp her as gently as a beast like this can. I can feel her shiver as I raise her up to my face.
The fear in her eyes as I slowly separate my jaws - priceless.
“No, don’t --”
She cuts herself off with a scream as I shove her legs into my mouth. The taste of dirt spreads across my tongue, but I’m not doing this for the taste. I’m doing this to finally sate my hunger.
“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” she squeals and claws against my fleshy muzzle, but they’re like scratches of a beetle at best. I shove her in deeper. In her struggles, another flavor begins to seep through the dirt. It’s sweet, it’s gentle… it’s peach.
And I can no longer control myself.
I push her into my throat and the primal reflex takes over. All the right muscles contract to press her further down, stretching the gullet to its limits. It hurts. It hurts, but I can’t stop grinning.
Silence reigns as the oversized lump makes its painful way through my neck and chest. My pulse is deafening. The back of my brain tingles with its growing lack of oxygen, but my windpipe is blocked. Only once the mass has reached the bottom of the ribcage can I draw in my first breath in seconds.
I breathe hard and fast to revitalize my brain. Multicolored sparks fizzle at the edge of my sight. Oh, Gods. Maybe that wasn’t smart. But the satiation more than makes up for it.
On perhaps the seventh inhalation, I notice my breath is through a human mouth. I take a glance around, and while it’s blurry as hell, I can tell both my body and my room have returned to the way they were before. I suppose all good things must come to an end.
Too hot and too sweaty to sleep in, I remove my pants and throw them into the corner before crawling back into my bed. Finally, I can have a proper rest. A relieved smile forms onto my lips.
No more nightmares.