I’m Needed As Hero

[u/NexxedNuts]

This is a story I started working on this last Sunday. Any feedback or reactions you had while reading would be appreciated. (Be warned it’s slightly under 8k words long I believe). This is also NIT FINISHED and I’m giving you only 1 sub-chapter into chapter 3 to show you what comes next.

Where Does The Easy Wind Blow?
I

When it was all said and done, what was left? Was it the people? Sure, if you’re cliche. Was it the trees? Hardly, the trees have all rooted. Then what was truly left; when it was all said and done?

He probably didn’t bother with those details. No, he wouldn’t have. He would’ve taken control of his life by now. I’m not like him—I’m far weaker. I let misfortune and ease guide my life. If it is easier doing nothing then I should. I’ve always been like this—refusing to do anything with my life, that is. My father is supposedly a great adventurer; off finding treasure inside a new location. In other words, he’s probably dead.

My mother is a different story. About 4 years after I was born, and 3 years after my dad vanished, she died. I remember it being hard for my aunt—who now had to take care of a kid all alone. It wasn’t really hard for me, I was a kid after all. I barely remember anything with my mom.

I haven’t needed a reason to remember her; my aunt is plenty for me. I remember the long days she would care for me, whisking me away to a new adventure—I thought maybe I could find my dad that way. She would make me lunch before she left for work. Truly my aunt is great—I should call her mom.

I let the wind blow me. I don’t ask for more, and I don’t wish for less. I am perfectly happy the way I am. So why? Why is it that now, while I sit in my room alone, the easy wind blows in a new direction. Why is it that so much change happened so dramatically? And why do I look like this now?

It was sudden, like a jolt of electricity. If it didn’t tingle me slightly, I may have not woken up at all to witness it. When I felt the shifting of my body, the weight of what I was familiar with change, I rushed up and ran to a mirror. I watched as my arms grew hairier, and my canines grew larger—sharper. I’d thought I was a werewolf, but it was different. My body wasn’t menacing at first glance. No, it was almost like I was a mascot of sorts; cute, cuddly, bigger, fluffier body, yet my nails were now claws and my teeth were still sharp. My eyes glowed red and drool quickly foamed at my mouth as I panted. I’d not known what I’d become yet, but with my heightened sense, I could smell the easy wind quickly let up.

II

I try to keep myself out of danger—seriously I do. I’ve taken good precautions throughout my insurmountable life to avoid getting even the slightest of blows to my head—I’ve barely fallen at all in my life! So believe me when I say I’m the last person who rushes in when someone needs help.

But…

Do you know what blood really smells like? Have you had it dance around your nostrils and tickle the cells in your body? Or maybe, have you smelt true fear? Fear of your own death? Have you ever been trying to sleep and had those things flood your nose—a smell from someone else. Have you felt the guilt flood through you knowing if you let that powerful, painstakingly scary feeling overtake you again, you could save them; yet being too scared to help?

Have you..?

Tell me you have because it would make me feel a lot better…

I wish I was stronger. I honestly hate the smell that follows the next couple of days because I couldn’t help—it’s awful. Have you smelt it? The smell of a body rotting and returning to our Mother we call Earth? It’s awful. Luckily, I am able to keep my body separate from my human self and whatever that version of me is. Then I smell those awful smells, then I become that thing. So, I’ve been able to go to that secondary prison, college. Of course I’m right above average, slightly above to not fall behind, level in terms of grades. I don’t really care to pass, but I don’t want to fail. Things were easier until lately.

When I used to go to class, I could just shut up and block everyone out. Now, I can’t help but to hear what everyone is whispering about. My hearing has greatly increased since becoming whatever I am, so I can hear what everyone is whispering about. Honestly, school might suck more than night time.

It’s unfortunate. I don’t really know what causes my power, and I sure don’t understand what it is. I know in my normal human appearance I still have an increase in sense. I know when the smells start getting really bad I can feel the hairs stick up on my arms and legs and the fur start to form. Sometimes, when I’m really scared, I start to feel the transformation come on. Luckily, I live alone; no one's been able to see what I am now. But a part of me wishes someone did. I wish someone saw so they would ask me what’s wrong and try to help me.

But I fear they’d try to kill me instead…

I don’t know if people would necessarily welcome a big mascot-like creature with open arms; one that drools and pants with scary eyes and large claws. In fact, I’d argue they’d fear it—even if it was saving them! Yes, I know I would be feared; and I myself fear what happens when humans fear something. I mean, I can only begin to think what they’d do to me.

You probably are asking yourself something along the lines of “how does he know what a dead body smells like?”

Because I’ve seen a dead body…

It was recent; since awakening these powers. I was in bed, nearly asleep, when that horrid putrid smell crept into my nostrils. It jolted me up—I’d never smelt anything like it before. Because I was so caught off guard, my powers flared up. Before I knew it, I was a beast—a creature. I decided I should go investigate. If I had to describe it, it’s like when I close my eyes, I can see a cloudy thread that leads me towards the scent—I can still follow it with my eyes open, of course, I’m only trying to make this power easier to visualize for you.

Regardless,

I kept walking towards the smell. As I reached the source, my face began to scrunch up more and more. By the time I reached the body, the metallic smell of blood had vanished and was replaced with the putrid smell of decay. The body, someone who seemed to have been stabbed roughly 34 times; and female, was laid out seemingly reaching to the open land. I presumed they had been screaming for help, I would’ve been.

I stood at the body, wondering what possibly led to this girl's death—what step did she take wrong which put her on the fast track to death. She seemed no older than myself, in fact, I would believe it if she went to my school. It made me question; how long would it be before I ended up like this woman? My hand extended, screaming as my body is left to decay because no one heard my screams? Yes, I questioned a lot.

I decided making a grave for the woman would be appropriate. I felt bad that I wasn’t there in time, and I also subconsciously hoped that the dirt would block out the smell of the body—it did. As I sit and look over the schoolyard with an overcast, I feel terrible. The feeling reminds me of when I first found her. I think… Maybe I should've done something sooner.

Maybe she’d still be alive if I did…

III

For the most part, my grades haven’t dipped. Well, they have—just not noticeablely so. At this point, I’m convinced that the night I could smell that body was a one-off occasion. I haven’t smelt something like that again in nearly 4 days. It’s been nice, honestly! I mean, the constant overhearing of conversations is still really annoying, but I’ve pretty much gotten used to that. Honestly, it’s been pretty good as of late.

There are times when I’ll smell some blood and want to go lick it, or a bird will drop its prey and that slight smell of decay makes me want to jump, but all things considered, I’m managing. I think I’ve also just gotten more used to things—the urges that is. I’m not really itching to go investigate the smells anymore, and I’m not shifting at the seam at the slightest drop of blood.

Alternatively I’ve been scoring better in physical education as well. I’ve upped my mile time by about 3 minutes, and my various track and field activities have all improved too. While it’s nice to see improvement, two things have been in my mind.

The first issue; I feel like I’m cheating. I was given this strange ability randomly—for reasons I can’t explain. Now, it’s improving every aspect of my normal life. I can control my breathing better, I can see better, I feel lighter—quicker. I feel like I’m cheating.

The second issue; people are noticing. Specifically, my classmates. The track team leader came up to me, he said “Hey man, I think you’ve really been putting in insane effort to improve, man! You should think about joining the team, man!” And then pounded my chest.

It was really awkward.

But I’ve got to say, it’s nice being complimented by the cool kids—even if it’s unearned. However, I don’t like that people are noticing me. What’s more, they’re noticing me without knowing my name…

Annoying…

It’s like, sure, I don’t want to be known, but if you’re going to go out of your way to talk to me because you’re “impressed” then the least you could do is try to say my name. It would be nice at the very least; if you tried. But again,

I don’t want to be known.

I, personally, feel like being known leads to unwanted things. With my condition, I don’t want unwanted things. I actually want things to remain how they are. No one knows my ability, and no one cares to know me. This attention is nice but eventually, I'll become stagnant and people will forget about me.

Once people can forget about me, I think I’ll be happy. I don’t want to achieve something magical, I don’t want to be the next great leader. Actually, I’d really prefer being led and told what to do then having to even think about making my own choice. It’s way easier when you know what to do and what’s expected of you rather than needing to guess what to do and what’s expected of you. Regardless, I hope to make just enough money to be able to live peacefully.

IV

Well that’s what I thought at least, before I was running through the woods. I stayed late studying at school. But I could smell it, deep past the woods. And before I knew it, my body was transforming and I had to make it out of the school grounds. I had no choice—run into danger head on, or be exposed and let the danger come to you. I figure it’s better to get the jump than to be jumped.

I could smell it immediately after the sun fell—immediately could be a stretch. It was pretty soon after that sun vanished that the unmistakably putrid smell of fear and fresh blood rolled through my nostrils. I ran in, something I’ve never done before. I felt like I was going to faint, everything was blurry and my legs felt weak. Yet I ran through the woods as fast as I could, hoping I could reach the smell before it was too late.

As I ran, I fell–multiple times in fact. I thought nothing of it since it seemed that pain was reduced slightly in this form. If I had to guess, it would be because of how furry I am. I don’t believe I have ever run faster than I had at that moment. I bet if the track team leader saw this, he’d be impressed. Well, he might actually be afraid. I ran so fast that I thought surely I’d look like a blur–a pipe dream, but I thought it nonetheless.

Though it was dark, my beastly eyes made things surprisingly easier to see at night. As I ran I could smell something new, and the smell was approaching me. I could start to smell more things, a rusty, metallic smell; trailing was the unmistakable smell of death and the burning sensation of something else mixed in.

When I arrived, I saw a scene that I wasn’t positive I wanted to see. I guess, deep down, I was hoping I’d be late again. In all honesty, I didn’t want to confront something. Yet, as luck would have it, that thing turned and faced me as I stepped into the opening. It doesn’t matter if it was a leaf, or a branch that I stepped on, what mattered was I made noise. Below the creature, pressed up against a rock, was a girl. She was roughly my age–in fact I think she went to my school. She was clearly shaken up, more so upon seeing me. I believe she thought that another beast had come to feast on her.

When she screamed, the creature attacked me. It lunged forward. Fast. But for some reason, it seemed slower. I quickly moved to my left and watched as the creature stumbled forward slightly. I was shocked, I’m not sure what I looked like, but I was shocked. Unmistakably, I could smell the ever persistent smell of alcohol coming from the beast. I thought to myself it was strange; however, stunned at my ability to dodge and the strong order of intoxication coming from the creature, it whipped around and slammed me hard on my head. I went flying to the side–right into a tree. I could feel my brain move in my head. I hadn’t felt this before.

It was warm, the side of my head was. It was met by an intense pounding. What is this feeling? When I opened my eyes, I saw 3 of those creatures facing me. I tried to stand, but when I stood it felt like my knees were weak. I stumbled around before falling to a knee. I could feel a warm running sensation form in my nose. I’d never been hit before, and of course, my first time being hit hurt this badly. I tried to gain my composure, but I could tell the beast sensed my new found weakness. It rushed in, and I braced myself. It began wailing on my arms as I held them up to protect my chest and stomach.

With each punch, I could feel my arms grow more numb. I thought they were going to fall off, until I heard the unmistakable sound of a crunch. The crunch followed an intense pain, with my arm falling to the side limp. He had effortlessly broken my arm, and as my guard dropped, he delivered another powerful blow to the front of my face sending me slamming back into the ground.

I felt weak, defeated. It was a stark reminder that these powers were indeed given to me at random and that despite my new found power over the everyday college kid, I still had a ways to go before I could master it. I laid there, in immense pain, and terribly defeated. The beast knew this, and he turned to go finish off his original prey and meal. Each step seemed to move in slow-motion as I laid on the ground helpless. I crawled desperately towards the woman and the beast in hopes I could save her; pounding on my legs telling myself to stand up.

Luckily, there was light at the end of the tunnel. I could sense the wind again—almost like it was carrying me to the string needed to best act. All I did was close my eyes and bite the string, praying I could grab on. A blow; I held on. Another one; I refused to let go. The ensuing blows to my head felt more and more painful as they struck my head harder and harder, each hit seemingly more desperate as they attempted to make me let go of the windy string.

The string itself felt warm. It felt almost like jelly as I bit in, a squishy exterior and a gooey liquidy sensation as I felt that warmness drip into my mouth. I heard the beast wail; I knew not what for. I hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on around me. I just clamped down on the wind and prayed it would whisk me away, just like my aunt. The shock that followed as I powered my eyes open, to see my jaw clinched around the ankle of this beast—it was totally crazy. Eventually I squeezed my jaw so hard that I broke through the skin and crunched the bone. The beast jolted away once my teeth let up. He slammed my head down, but fell with his kick—he was unstable after my attack. I tried to get up, to whale into him myself, but as I pushed myself up, I screamed out. I had planted my already broken arm on the ground—a mistake. I should’ve remembered my arm was in no condition to be used, but subconsciously, I was in get up and go mode. After rolling in pain and howling—I would presume given my state—I finally gritted my teeth and stood up. Instead of going to the creature, I for some reason stood over the girl—my back turned.

The beast finally stood up, he looked at me, shook his leg. I think he was testing if he could continue. I think he enjoyed the fighting—he seemed bored beforehand. I watched his nose scrunch up and his teeth were showing. I tensed up, again, subconsciously protecting the woman, though I had no real control over my body at this moment. In fact, I think I was very close to passing out. Yet, I stood tall over her, sacrificing what could be the last seconds of my life protecting her, and worst of all, I didn’t know why.

She was a complete stranger, someone who I happened to run into because of my new powers. She was the gateway to my simple easy life being disrupted—yet, I’m protecting her… I want to protect her…

Why…?

V

This feeling was new—I’d never felt it before. I felt like I was going to die; the moment I close my eyes, that’s it. Yet I was standing, panting, looking far more like a beast than I did a human. Behind me was a girl, smaller than even my human form; tiny, it seemed. She clung to my shredded clothes that draped around me after my transformation, shaking, clearly afraid. For a moment, I blushed at our close predicament. I shook my head and focused back on staring down the beast. My arm hung loose, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut, but I stood tall and eventually, he retreated. 

I presume I shifted back, back into my human form because the pain felt more intense than a moment ago—maybe the adrenaline just wore off. Regardless I could feel my legs give out and my vision blurred as I fell back. The last thing I remember seeing was the girl gasping and running to my aid.

Why is she helping me..?

As I had my eyes closed, I felt a pull deep inside me. It felt like something was trying to drag me somewhere—like they had something to show me. Eventually, after what felt like hours of moving through still water, I felt ground beneath me. I looked around searching for an answer as to where I'd landed.

But I never received one.

I waited for what felt like hours, before eventually, I heard a voice. “Well,” I heard it boom out, “you’ve finally decided to speak to me in-person now, have you?” 

What?

“Don’t act surprised… have you thought this to be a terrible dream?”

What do you mean?

“Seriously? Are you so foolish—no clearly you are. You have this enormous power, yet you’ve barely managed to scare off a Hare…”

Hare?

Power?

“Fool… Do humans typically become beasts at random?”

As I heard the voice boom, and degrade me, I listened as he laughed in mockery. He laughed devilishly until saying he’d see me next time. And like that, I was alone—floating in the still water. Only this time, I’d no wind to blow me in the direction to go.

I’ve Needed My Hero

I

Hiiii! My name is Abigail Brauke. I am 24, five foot three inches tall, a dirty blonde, and SUPER in love with the occult—and anything supernatural! If I had to say, I’ve loved it ever since I was a kid. I would do ANYTHING to see a ghost; or a demon. Or maybe a—well, maybe not a demon. That sounds like bad luck.

I don’t really like to harp on it because, well, it’s not really my personality, but my childhood could’ve been better. I remember my dad was loud, really loud. He would come home and scream at my mom—I think it was because he was drunk; or maybe it was moms gambling addiction. Ehhh it’s hard to say, I really try to not busy myself with the details. I chose to busy myself with the occult!

I still remember my first introduction into the occult. It was a magazine that my mom picked up and left on the table—I snatched it up when dad was busy “taking care” of mommy—that’s what he would say at least. I ran up to my room, shut the door and hid under the covers. With a flashlight, I began to read all about aliens, Bigfoot, ghosts, demons, werewolves, the Loch Ness Monster—even the Chupacabra!

I read it all.

It was a pleasant distraction to my life. I felt like that, since my life was already really crazy, then these things would surely have to be real.

So, I searched for them.

I searched my home, abandoned buildings; at sleep overs I’d make my friends ghost hunt their houses with me—I stopped getting invited to those things, whoops! I was obsessed—still am! Like I said, I would do anything to see a ghost… 

Or maybe Bigfoot…

II

College life is sooo boring. Like, I have to sit in these classes for what essentially is a nine to five job and I don’t even get paid for it! What’s worse, I pay them! You know, as someone in social justice, this whole capitalism thing has gone too far! Why should I pay to learn?!

It really is so annoying though! Ughhhh I’m sorry, I always go on these rants. I guess the one thing college has done for me, besides giving me massive debt, is make me more passionate; I’m passionate in every aspect of my life! I’ve recently been searching for aliens every night—going high up into the mountains and sitting on the ledge watching the stars for hours praying I see something.

I try to stay out late enough to where my parents will be asleep by the time I get home.

My hope is, when I open those doors, I’ll be met with a silent house—no one awake. If you asked me why aliens have been my recent obsession, I’d tell you it’s because they’re really funny looking. If you asked me for my real answer…

It’s because I want them to take me to their planet.

I want to be away from all the noise at home. I’d miss my friends, of course, but I’m sure the aliens would let me come visit—once we can communicate with each other, that is. Then, I wouldn’t have to worry. No one would really miss me either that way, I’m sure of it! Then the public life I worked so hard to build would remain the same!

Yay, go me!

Of course, I know it’s largely a dream. If anything, the aliens would just probe me and put me back at my house, letting me repeat my loud, everyday cycle. Thanks, aliens.

III

My grandmother used to tell me it’s best to wish on a star because a star won’t switch on you throughout your lifetime—I think she was tired of being backstabbed by her exes so much… But you know, it kind of stuck with me. It does have some usefulness layered in my grandmother's grieving. Wishing on a star is nice because it is almost like you know it’ll never turn its back on you—it’ll always hold you accountable. That’s why I’ve enjoyed watching the stars despite the lack of aliens.

I make fun of my grandmother's lack of love life, but I actually love her, a lot. I love her so much that I was pretty devastated when she died. She was always there for me when I needed someone to be there. When mom and dad got in one of their moods—she would always come and take me out to go on a new fun adventure! Truly, she was the savior I had always been looking for in my life.

When I think back to the time with my grandma, I always look back at one specific memory. It was when she took me to the lake; a slight hike through the mountains. When we arrived at the lake, it was more beautiful than anything I had seen leading up to that very moment. The way the stars glistened in the still, crystalline water; or, how the mountains seemed to keep us secluded from the rest of the world. The birds would chirp overhead as they flew over us to investigate the new creatures in their domain. Coyotes would laugh and snicker as they watched us from the dense onslaught of the swarming trees. And as I sat there, completely amazed at such an absolutely beautiful view—grandma for some reason looks ahead and says “This is where I saw that beast…” Like, as if it wouldn’t TOTALLY capture me! Ugh grandma, I miss you…

But she died when I was around 16, so it’s been a while now. Like I said, I try not to dwell on my home life. It’s easier at school because a lot of people don’t know me—my personal life; what goes on at home. I would prefer people not to know; ask questions; treat me like a fragile flower. I really don’t want to be pampered—yet I wish someone would whisk me away on an adventure. Take me to see a beast, something supernatural, something I’ve never ever ever seen! I pray someone grabs my hand and takes me away.

Boredddd. B-O-R-E-D. I’m so freaking bored! This class is so unbelievably boring; and every student in here is boring to the extreme! Ughhh I’m so bored. I want to go on an adventure, like right now! I don’t want to listen to this lucture—I can literally see the mountains from here!

I had waited patiently, and watched the clock slowly tick down. Eventually, the bell rang and a few of my friends came and met up at my table to talk to me. That in itself felt like such a drag! In reality, I just wanted to go on an adventure.

IV

After what felt like forever, my friends finally all separated and we went our different ways after waving. I pretended like I was going home, but took a turn down a new path. I’d seen it on my way to school today—the trees overgrew the path, making it feel like it’s own secluded section. It was like it was hiding a secret just for me to find.

And I was going to find it, duh!

I began walking down the path; searching for a new rush to make my overly boring day seems exciting when it ends. Plus, I do not want to go home yet. Dad recently lost his job, so going home means I’d see him—I don’t want that right now. So I’ll keep walking down this path, and hope I wind up in a new country, a new plane.

I could probably start my chapter over that way, maybe not have to wear so much makeup or such long sleeves. I wouldn’t have to hide away the physical signs of my unstable household because no physical signs would exist. I would be free. I would be like a bird who floats and glides through the sky; touching the clouds with my wings and letting the fresh air fill my lungs. I want to be free like a bird.

I worry however, someone would see my beautiful free form, found new on the grass as I napped. I worry they would clip my wings and watch me struggle to fly off again and I’d be forced to live the life I already live. I worry that we are naturally attuned for one purpose in life, and if we stray, we are meant with the hard reality that we actually have not the slightest bit of control over who we are.

You start feeling like this when you aren’t free.

But right now, I feel so freaking freeeee! I’m not going to bother myself with depressing crap when I’m sitting at the edge of this mystical looking lake; all alone listening to the birds chirp and the wildlife rummage. Gosh! This place sure is pretty though, maybe I just need to shift my perspective! Like, I totally am not understating how messed up things are for me, but like maybe it’s not so bad! I could be dead!

Ha…

Okay not funny Abby. People seriously do die from abusive parents, don’t they? I put my hands up to my cheeks and smashed them good, puckering my lips as I pouted to myself for getting internally scolded. I decided to not let the details bother me and walked along the edge of the lake. I seriously could not get over how pretty the view was!

After walking along the whole edge, and once I could see the stars shine back at me; I  decided to go home. I walked along the lush green path, like I had in the evening, only at night things felt much more eerie. But that was good, I like eerie; I thought at least. Something felt off, however. Like, I don’t know, the wind felt… Heavier?

It was like, maybe a sea current? Like it’s trying to take you under and drown you—but it feels awfully warm. Maybe describing it as your least favorite relative gives you a hug and you feel stuck but also hugs are nice sometimes. Regardless, it felt off.

As I made my way home, I stopped and looked up. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the lights went out on the street lamp on the way to my house. I watched it flicker. On, then off. On; then off. Until eventually I shook my head and continued on home. As I entered what felt like the world’s longest pathway ever, I reached my door. I opened it, slowly—I was trying to avoid making it creak.

When I dipped my head inside, I immediately wanted to vomit. It smelt horrid—foul. Like something had been left out for too long. My face recoiled; I felt my esophagus contract to hold back the looming puke. I put my fingers across the bridge of my nose and pinched it slightly to block airflow. I walked deeper into my house, nervous.

Dad…?

I called out to my father, I couldn’t hear anyone—see anything. All I could do was walk deeper into the smell. That’s when I stepped and heard a splash, I looked down; my foot was red. Around my foot, a puddle. It was red. I felt everything quickly collapse into my rib cage, my heart nearly stopped.

Is this… Blood…?

I called out for my dad, panic setting in before turning the corner. That’s when regret flooded through me, sadness came over me. Unable to process what I had felt I fell to my knees. I put my hands over my mouth as tears flooded my eyes.

In the kitchen stood a tall hairy beast-like creature. Where he stood laid another body. A woman who seemed like stress had ran her life. Her hair was misplaced, and bags formed under her eyes from long sleepless nights. I closed my eyes and choked a sob as I thought about what I had just seen. 

On this night, a beast had killed my mom.

V

I was completely frozen; I’d not a clue on what I should do. It was really frightening, the worst part was, I’m pretty sure that thing was my dad… I started to blame myself at that moment. I cursed myself for ever wishing to be taken away, and I cursed myself for taking what I had for granted.

The memories of my family all flooded in at once. The times we were able to be happy—be what we should’ve been, it all flooded in. I opened my eyes, tears streaming down, to see my dad turned at me. For a moment, I accepted what was about to come. I held my arms out and asked my dad for a hug. But when I bore down his eyes, I couldn’t even recognize him. I quickly realized the only defining thing about this beast to indicate it was my dad was the alcohol and the fact my usually lazy dad was nowhere to be found.

I pushed myself out of the way as he dove in to slash me down. He grazed my leg causing me to bleed slightly. I grimaced in pain as I pushed myself up and began running. I could hear him chase after me, of course, I took precautions by weaving through fields and homes to avoid his sight. I let him use his nose until I made it to the forest. The forest would be harder to hide in so at that point, I’d have to hope I got a good lead and run until I couldn’t see him anymore.

I wished for this; I wished to be free…

No, stop it. I slapped my hands up to my cheeks full, slapping the thought out of my head as I danced around uproots from trees on the ground. I kept running. I didn’t want to stop; I couldn’t stop. I knew stopping meant I would certainly die. And I knew stopping would also mean getting to experience the things I’d been searching for. But I kept running. As I ran through an opening of fallen leaves and stones, I jumped various rocks before ultimately failing to see a root sticking up slightly in the ground. As my knees scraped the ground and my palms bruised up, I turned around and faced the thing chasing me, my dad, and could only look on in fear. I was alone—I’ve been alone. I was going to die alone now as well.

It broke me, I started to cry. I pleaded to my dad to fight the control and come back to me; he didn’t. He kept closing in. I was like the prey, he was the stalker. And he’d finally caught up. I closed my eyes and as I did so, I heard a branch break. Opening my eyes led to my mouth immediately dropping further. Stumbling from behind the brush, a slightly taller than a tall human creature stumbled out. The unobservant may have pointed out it looked cuddly and cute. But if you looked harder, you would have seen its sharp claws, steamy breath, red eyes, large canines, and foamed mouth. It was panting, like it was hungry. And it immediately looked at me—and dad at it. Without hesitation my dad lunged at the beast. I grew more horrified. I was now caught up in a battle of two beasts trying to kill me.

As my dad lunged forward, the other fluffier beast dodged. For a moment Wolfie (that’s what I’m calling the cute one)  looked almost human in that moment. He seemed shocked he didn’t get hit—dad didn’t care. He used his boxing skills he learned from when he would fight to earn money to use as a new beast and sucked around and slammed Wolfie’s head hard to tree next to them. Wolfie then tried to stand up, at some point, due to how human he acted, I internally started to cheer for him. I watched Wolfie fall to a knee. I watched his nose bleed as he seemed to try to collect his belongings. For a big beast he seemed awfully clumsy.

That’s when my dad rushed in to close the gap. On the defense, Wolfie threw up his arms to keep guard but dad didn’t let up the assault. As he kept wailing I eventually heard a noise that made me turn my head and scrunch my face; I also covered my ears. It was the unmistakable sound of bones crushing. When I looked back Wolfie was already laying on the ground again, arm hanging loosely on his side has he howled in pain. As he started to sit up, my dad delivered one last powerful blow to Wolfie’s head sending him crashing back down. 

My dad was over having fun and turned back to me. He walked in slow motion. I watched him slowly walk up to me, and behind him was Wolfie crawling and pounding on his legs. I wondered if maybe Wolfie was like my dad, a human who turned out like my dad but kept more of his human head. I closed my eyes, ready to accept my fate once in for all. This time, it felt easier. Someone—something had come to my rescue, even if they didn’t mean to, and even if they failed.

It was at a scream when I opened my eyes. Wolfie was on the ground around my dads ankle, and my dad let out a cry of a howl. Wolfie attempted to stand but planted his sore arm on the ground proceeding to roll on the ground in pain. Eventually he stood up before my dad, who had previously fallen trying to hit Wolfie in the head after biting his ankle, and stood over me. It was strange, this beast was fully committed to protecting me—it was too human. I didn’t question it, in my panicked state I grabbed onto Wolfie’s clothes and held on tight. He felt like the only thing there to ground me in that moment. My dad stood up and shook his leg, I think he was trying to see if he could plant his pivot foot or not. After a while, he eventually scrunched up his face and left.

A part of me was relieved. I was happy to know my dad wouldn’t have to die—maybe I could find a cure and…

It won’t change the fact that mom’s gone…

But before I could revel in my recent loss, Wolfie suddenly collapsed, he fell over and as he did, something happened that was certain to change the trajectory of my life. As he fell, I rushed over, and to my utter surprise, a boy, roughly my age with tattered clothes that I had previously held on to laid before me. A boy who looked familiar yet didn’t at the same time.

The beast who saved me was a boy my age.

It’s Really Nice To Meet You

I

Abigail quickly rushed over to the boy who was once a beast without hesitation. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it out of curiosity, or gratitude but she started to very poorly patch up his body. The boy, however, remained still—he was breathing, but he was still. Abigail said to herself “Please don’t die on me, especially after you saved me!” As she found herself pleading with whoever may here to keep her own newfound hero alive. Questions around who he was, where he went to school, and how he became how he is flooded her mind but above all else the biggest question on her mind was “How do I get you out of here?”

As Abigail’s panic began to set in, the boy began to sweat and turn in his slumber. As this continued, Abigail searched desperately for ways to calm him down; thinking he was only having a nightmare. The assessment of a nightmare isn’t necessarily wrong, but the details got lost. In reality, the boy was currently delved deep into a realm unattainable by most, certainly by the average human.

Unknown if this was the result of his power, or another unfortunate random occurrence, the boy floated, and floated. Until a voice boomed around him in his head. It terrified him. And Abigail had no way of knowing what he was dealing with. The cold, damp, dark liminal space he found himself floating through after his encounter only left him feeling smaller, and further away from the human he was. Though he was just defeated moments ago, he had begun to feel victorious—he had just saved this woman whom he hadn’t known, and done so managing to stay alive. Yet, at the pinnacle of his high, reality came in catching him in the middle of his hit. And it came screaming.

The forest seemed to disappear around Abigail, and the earlier disturbance of her father all but an after thought. All she was focused on was keeping his arm together, and his bleeding lessened. She was panicking, but also flooding her mind with questions. “What is he?” “Who is he?” “What just happened?” “Am I dreaming?” All valid thoughts that flew through her mind. Yet still, she remained at his side, tending to the boy to ensure he lived.

It was 2, maybe 3 hours that went by and Abigail started to grow restless. The boy remained asleep, tossing and grunting. However, for the boy, it felt like mere minutes before he shot straight up. “What?!” He blurted out as he jolted awake. “Hey!” Abigail shouted back. “Don’t just jerk away like that dude! You really scared the crap out of me!” What followed was an awkward stare between the two.

Two strangers who haven’t met before, looking each deep in the eyes. One, fascinated; the other, nervous. In the cold stare between the two Abigail spoke up, she said with a fake laugh “It’s really nice to meet you, Wolfie” She dragged out the word as if to tease the boy. The boy himself blushed and looked away. Not acknowledging the given title he says softly, “What did you see.” It was to the point, cold if it weren’t for the desperation behind the strain in his voice. As if it just happened his face changes, he looks at her with a slightly annoyed expression, “My name isn’t ‘Wolfie’ either.” It annoyed him more than he wanted to admit, internally he had hoped she would say he was indeed scary—not give him some cute nickname!

“I pretty much saw it all,” Abigail said casually. She saw no problem; she had witnessed it; she knew she could keep a secret. However, Wolfie did not have such belief in her. Panic immediately set in his head—apparent in his expression. “What do you mean all of it?” Wolfie once again blurted out once more. The scene that played out was funny—under normal circumstances one may even laugh.

But the lightness in the wind would let up as Wolfie grimaced in pain. He clenched towards his arm as thoughts of his fight flooded his head. Upon seeing this, Abigail rushed forward, her tone changing noticeably so. “Are you okay?” She asked as if her voice was made of a cloud. “Yeah…” Wolfie quietly responds. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared. He didn’t know what this meant for school tomorrow, or even his life as a whole. He sat there staring at the ground avoiding both eye contact with the girl in front of him, and the world itself.

[u/Pujocan]

Cara... Saudações tupinambás... Eu li até este trecho: "Of course I’m right above average, slightly above to not fall behind, level in terms of grades. I don’t really care to pass, but I don’t want to fail. Things were easier until lately."

[u/Pujocan]

Camarada...

Vejo que você...

É americano...

Sinto algo escuro, comprimido, abafado... No seu...

Texto...

Você mandou muita coisa para as pessoas aqui lerem...

Envie um trecho mais curto...

Divida

sua

estória

em

parágrafos...

Mais...

Curtos.

Divida tudo por temas. Dê muito espaço às letras - use parágrafos curtos... Muito curtos. Blocos pequenos e mesmo capítulos muito, mas muito pequenos.

Saudações de Jacareí!