To Be A Monster pt 2 (written by Zombie Zak!)

Was it digging? Or scratching? Or was it something else slyly creeping through the brush? Or maybe it was something overhead?

Cheryl was unsure, but the night was so rife with potential for opportunity and change that she figured she had to find out. Besides, it could be somebody spoiling her cousin's rest; and that would not be cool.

"Blood, it calls for blood.
Through thick, through thin
The Centuries' crawl begins."

It was softly spoken, simple in tone and tenor. She heard it clear but at the same time, thought just as easily that it could have been the wind. It made no sense. Why would anyone be out here other than Cheryl and Gwen? This was their special place.

She thought it came from over there; but then, a second later, it was over here. She couldn't see anything clearly within the woods, the wan glow of the moon hidden by the overhead canopy. The faint shimmer of a distant light left on in the chapel was cold solace in the deep absence of contact within these dreary woods.

"Blood, it craves the blood.
Renewal, rejoice, resurgence
As the red rain begins again."

"Fuck me running; where are you? What are you trying to do here? Get yourself whooped? I'll do it; just try me! I ain't afraid of you, you ignorant piss-ant! I'm a monster and I'll rip open your chest and feed on the bits inside! Show yourself." Cheryl didn't yell; it was obviously unnecessary, but the need to speak forcefully was very compelling.

"Blood, it is drawn to the blood.
By birth, by death, in this life
And beyond the veil it crawls."

For a brief moment, she glanced back at Gwen's resting place. No sign of movement, not a blade of grass out of place; but she needed to be sure. She had to know that Gwen was still safely nestled in her bed of dirt, neither waking nor moving about, nor sharing this night with her. Moreover, she had to know that it wasn't Gwen who was the one talking right now. And if it was Gwen who was unlimbering with the lyric content, what would Cheryl think she’d do? She gave it a brief thought and marked it as unknown.

"Blood, as it flows from the living
To the labored lands below the moon
We flock to this moment, Morrigan's Boon."

Morrigan? What?

Her History teacher, Mr. Mondrose, liked to throw out drivel like that every now and then; was that it, some anime type character goddess of something or other? Wasn't she something to do with those fallen in battle and their lots cast in life? Maybe it was he who was out there with all this weird rhyming crap? Cheryl wasn't sure, but she didn't want to wait for long to find out what kind of perverted old fart he was.

"Blood, we feed upon the spoils of battle
These wicked souls we predate upon
And birth of the monsters we drum on."

Monsters? Now that sounded more interesting.

"I'm curious. You had me at monsters. Please tell me what's going on. I don't understand; but I would like to." She looked calmly through the trees and the underbrush, trying to find a source for the voice and the quiet commotion.

"Blood, thick as tar and filled with bite;
Simple tricks this creature for this night.
Stay far, far, far from the blind light."

"OK, I'm all for the weird and wacky what the fuck thing you've got going on right now, but for the life of me, I can't understand a word you're saying! All this poetic sing songy stuff is making my head hurt. Could you just talk in plain English? Would that be so hard?"

"Blood, in time, the die will be cast,
The bones rolled and the deal struck,
By evening's end, the light will be aghast."

"You should know, I've always hated Shakespeare and all the rest of that crap that they make you lap up in high school! It's a crock of craptacularness, is what it is. So, lallalalalalalal, I can't hear you …" Cheryl moved closer to her cousin; the close familiarity of family soothed her taut nerves in this unfamiliar game of cat and mouse.

"There is no end, but in the beginning, one wonders what will be after this cast has been put upon us." The voice came from a very specific source, she could tell. It was above her, and to the left. There; on the branch, there was a raven. She could see it, clear, precise, outlined by the splatter of moon glow through a break in the trees. It cawed once to mark its point.

"Can you feel the pall, child? Can you feel how it pulls at the strings that you call your life? Can you feel how it digs into you and rips apart those simple things that you once called happiness? Can you see the dark, crawling monstrous manifestation sliding beneath the soil of your time? The terror, oh how it must eat you up."

"Terror? What are you talking about? And besides, you're a bird, what do you know about anything except pecking?" Cheryl stood cautiously eyeing the creature that had manifested itself in this grotesque manner. Barely keeping a grip on her nerves she waited for the next thing that it might have to say. It was a freaking talking bird, and worse, it was talking to her. This was bad, really bad.

"Child, I know many things; I am many things. I am the wind, I am the dust. I know of the secret things that children harbor like lust beneath their breast. These secrets are like pages from a book, for I; and I read them with avarice. Would you like to know the story that your life reads?" The raven swiveled its eye to regard young Cheryl closely.

"No. As a matter of fact, I just want you to go away and leave us alone." She looked around for a rock, anything that she might be able to throw at this obnoxious bird.

"Soon enough child …"

"And stop calling me that!"

"Indeed, very well. Soon enough, my dear, you will leave this place. But there is going to be a price. The question thereupon, will be will you pay it? You've come so close to the truth, but do you have the strength to go all the way to find its conclusion? Will you be willing to take the next step to becoming what you want to be?"

"I'm all a-twitter, waiting for the punch line, here. My expectations are all tingly and full of moistness."

"Hahaha; sarcasm, chi.., dear. I am amused; this is good. Now, what is it that you want most?"

Cheryl thought about it for a second. She knew what she wanted; she knew that it consumed her with a passion that would strike others with cold dread. But what she didn't know was what admitting it to this creature would do. Alone, in the night, with Gwen and this bird that couldn't be a bird, amongst the trees, with the moon shining balefully bright. What the hell …

"I want to be a monster. I want Gwen to be proud of me. I want to shake up the establishment and make a mark that no one will forget."

"Very nice, younger one; very nice. I believe I can work with that."

"Hunh?"

"Well, I see that you've already taken the first step. You have committed to the womb of Earth, the sacrifice of both blood and love; of someone dear to you. Are you ready to take the next step?"

"Uh, yeah; sure, I guess." Cheryl tripped over her words, trying to stay connected to what was going on.

"Excellent. Do you still hold a measure of her spirit in your hand?"

"What?"

"Ahh, yes, I see that you do. The tears shed earlier upon remembering your friend will nicely do. Now, just stand over there, yes, yes, by the headstone. And we'll begin." The eyes of the raven began to glow a garish red. It was an odd sort of color, a deep red buried beneath furrows of black; it stood out quite cleanly against the night sky.

"By the pricking of thy brittle bones
By the soundless screech of thy horns
Be they silent or foregone
Be they full of fear or scorn
Know that this here vessel
Becoming born
Is the kindred
I have torn.

From a womb of blood and hate
To this creature I can relate
That no other of this land
Can take this creature by its hand.

And thus, as I have said
A monster you shall be.
This creature all will see,
Your friend, surely Dead."

The night air felt cold and coarse, as the bird's chanting came to an abrupt stop. Cheryl stared at the bird, inquiring with a look that wanted to shout out: "What, that's it?" But she held silent. There was the possibility that this creature would actually be able to help her, and that was a good thing in her book.

"And that would be ..?"

"Done, yes indeed; we are done. Now, there is but the task of my asking my boon, my price, payment for services rendered."

"Uhm, ok. I’m confused. You haven't done anything yet. What price could you be asking for?" Cheryl looked around, down at herself, and found nothing had changed. She felt a drop in her gut with the thought that she was being played for a fool.

"Too true. But you have yet to agree upon the price. How can I give you the benefit of my Gift, if you have yet to agree upon the exchange? We deal fairly here, in the Woods, the Sacred Grove as it were."

"Uhm, alright. So, then, what's the price?"

The Raven paused, cocking its head, "Your brother."

"Oh, fuck, go ahead; you can have him. It's not like I want him anywhere near me. He's a gimp."

"No, dear; not like that. Like Gwen. Here. In the Grove. As you have done your girlish friend, so too, I would like your brother; and not as neat as you had done with her. He needs to be messy, full of angst, angry fearful energy. It needs be wet and scattered bits everywhere. Loud, even. It needs be tonight, before the sun rises."

"Uh, so let me get this straight. You want me to lure my brother back here and splatter him all over the place?" She shifted where she stood, looking carefully into the trees trying to see if anyone else was also about. She decided to play along. Besides, Billy needed a good scare anyways. This would do nicely. And it would be funny.

"Precisely, my dear. Do you think you'll be able to do that?"

"Uh, OK; what the fuck? It's not like I'm getting anything else done tonight."

"Excellent. I will look after your friend here."

Cheryl turned around to head back the way she had come. She paused for a moment, with a brief caress of the stone marker before leaving; making sure that Gwen was resting comfortably. She took the long route, avoiding the possibility of meeting anyone out in the open. It took some time longer than she expected, but she got home without event. Quietly, she snuck into her room, the lights were off and she was sure that her mother was already asleep, conveniently having forgotten about her daughter for the time being.

Without making any noise, she crept to her brother's room and opened the door. In a soft, almost hissing whisper, she asked, "Hey, Billy, do you want to come with me and see Gwen? She's in the woods waiting for us. It'll be like a picnic. Come on, let's go."

To Be A Monster pt. 1 (written by Gregory L. Hall)

Cheryl always loved monsters. That’s why she didn’t mind it when the giant spider reached down from the ceiling and bit her mother’s head off. Its drool-covered fangs dug deep into the twitching woman’s shoulders and when it pulled, there was a simple clean pop that briefly echoed in the kitchen and down the hall. Her mom spun in circles, neck spewing thick waves of blood as her arms reached for what was no longer there like a man trying to hold his hat on in a wind storm.

Even when the body hit the floor, Cheryl didn’t react much beyond quiet boredom. So her mother was dead now. The bitch was always yak-yak-yakking away as is. Clean up this kitchen. Please go get a job. Where is your head, girl?

Well, it’s not down a mutant spider’s throat, that’s for damn sure, Mom.

Cheryl stirred her tomato soup with her finger. It burned but pain kinda turned Cheryl on. It made her feel alive. She stared back up to the ceiling but the spider was gone now. The teenager wasn’t sure where it came from or how such a hideous creature even existed but that wasn’t her problem. Explaining to the world why her mother’s decapitated body was laying in a blood pond located on a cheap linoleum floor was going to be the issue. Why did these slaughters have to be so goddamn messy all the time?

“Are you listening to me?” that old familiar voice cackled with disdain. “I am your mother! And your father and I are sick and tired of you doing nothing with your life! This is your senior year in high school…if you pass! And you don’t have any friends. Any hobbies. Any ambition. What are you going to do with your life, Cheryl? Certainly not stay here for the rest of your days!”

“I won’t be, Mom,” the detached girl almost said loud enough to be heard. “I think I’m done with my soup.”

Cheryl got up from the dinner table and shuffled out of the kitchen purposefully denying her mother any eye contact. Where was a real giant mutant spider when you needed one?

She crossed through the living room which always smelled of cat piss and Febreze. The cause of both lay on the heavily cushioned chair before her. The fat feline hissed at the sloped shouldered girl making it clear who truly owned the household. While it was common knowledge even to visitors that this was Taffy’s chair, and could only ever be occupied by Taffy, Cheryl thought differently. To her, it was always an opportunity to play her favorite game. Cats in Space.

Cheryl scooped up the round and squishy furball and threw it across the room. It banked against the far wall with a loud thwack and bounced ass first on the floor disproving the rule that cats always land on all fours. Skip a meal or two, you fat fuck, and you might be able to find your feet, Cheryl chuckled to herself.

“Oh my goodness!” the voice cried from the other room. “Was that Taffy that hit the wall? Cheryl! Was that my Ms. Taffy?”

The grinning teenager hit the stairs before Mother could burst into the living room full of confrontation. She heard her mom’s whining voice coddling and cooing comfort to the disgusting orange beast in a way Cheryl had never heard herself even as a child. The cat meowed melodramatically which amped up Mother’s concern. Next time I aim for a window, Cheryl sneered. She slammed her bedroom door to block the soup opera out.

No hobbies. No ambition. Her parents had no clue. Cheryl picked the copy of Necrotic Tissue off her bed and gently filed it with the rest of her horror fiction collection. She flopped down on the old mattress and stared at the night through thin yellow curtains. Forget about imagining monsters around every corner. They weren’t getting her anywhere. The spider didn’t eat mom’s head in the kitchen. The silent serial killer didn’t drive a machete through her math teacher’s torso outside in the parking lot. And Jason Wolter, the most gorgeous guy in school, didn’t get devoured by a pack of chupacabras after gym class. It was all a waste of time.

Cheryl made a crucial decision then and there. She would do anything to become a monster herself.

The Goth kids in her town seemed cool but the whole vampire thing was so overdone. Now it was more about undead prom dates that looked like a Jonas Brother with fangs than it was about true blood draining hell-creatures like in 30 Days of Night. Witches were beyond cliché. Zombies were always awesome but who wanted to be a shambling decaying corpse on purpose?

Werewolves. That was what she wanted to be. Lycanthropic bliss. That way she could have the best of both worlds. An invisible high school nothing during the day. Carnivorous killing machine at night. She could spend her time simply taking names as people shit on her day in and day out. Then as the moon rose, she would hunt them down and ‘correct’ their view of her over a nice meal.

Her bedroom door burst open. “Dude, did you throw Taffy again?”

“Don’t you ever knock?” Cheryl cut at her little brother with monotone angst.

“Mom is on the phone right now with Dad. You are so going to get it when he gets home from his business trip. I mean like ‘grounded for life’ and ‘kicked out of the house’ trouble.”

“I can’t be condemned to both, asshole. Just get out of my room…”

Her brother flipped her the finger and quickly spun around to make his exit before he fell victim to the wicked girl’s next attack. Cheryl hopped up in bed.

“Wait! Billy! Come here for a minute. I actually have a serious question to ask you.” She waved him closer. The boy hesitated, trying to read her intentions and compromised on putting his weight on his back leg in the doorway.

Cheryl smiled. It hurt her face but she did it anyway. “You’re into science and stuff like that. Have you ever heard of a case where someone could actually um, transform into a more animal side of their self?”

“Like rabies?”

“No. Not like being infected and acting crazy. More like growing hair all over their body and getting fangs. Being able to see at night or track down prey with their sense of smell?” Cheryl shrugged in an honest attempt to connect with her younger sibling.

“You mean like a werewolf?” he asked with a crack in his voice.

“More like a were-woman…”

A chuckle escaped Billy’s gapped teeth. “Geez, Cheryl, that’s a whole different kind of animal! I see them all the time down in Mount Vernon! You can go to Sweden and get an operation for that! ‘Werewolf’ means a man who’s a wolf. ‘Were’ meaning ‘man’. So a were-woman would be a man-woman. Is it someone you have a crush on in school?”

“Shut the fuck up, retard!” Cheryl hissed. “Get the fuck out of my room!”

“That’s two of the #1 Bad Word on Mom’s list! You are so in trouble now!” Billy screamed as if to send a direct message downstairs to the matriarch of house law. He saw Cheryl reach for her lamp and he was down the hallway screaming even louder.

Fuck this and yes I said it again, the dark teenager muttered to herself. In seconds her mother would be yelling her name soaked in venom at the bottom of the stairs. It was a dance the family never seemed tired of doing. Well, tonight was different. Cheryl knew her purpose now and when she found out how to achieve it, they all would be sorry. She only had one other stop to make. She had to see her cousin.

She was the only person on earth Cheryl could trust. Gwen was the only person who knew and kept Cheryl’s one big secret.

She grabbed her jacket off the bedpost, climbed out the window and was gone.

***

The night was colder than Cheryl expected. October chewed through her clothing as the full moon threw a frigid spotlight on her. But this was the only place Gwen would meet her. Cheryl found her cousin was even colder than their surroundings.

“Look, I’m sorry about coming out here so late. I’m sorry about a lot of things.” Cheryl’s chin dropped to her chest. “We don’t talk near as much as we used to. I guess that’s my fault.”

Gwen said nothing.

“We used to have good times, remember? Getting high out behind your dad’s shed or stealing my mom’s booze from her liquor cabinet? We shoplifted a lot of great stuff from the Mall. Snuck into the movies all the time…” Cheryl hoped her only friend would laugh or at least smile but she was left talking to herself. “I know. You really didn’t want to do most of those things but you did them for me. I guess I’ve always been a bad influence.”

Cheryl broke from Gwen’s masked emotions and stared off at the surrounding trees. They looked like lanky eavesdroppers eager to hear her confessions.

Vulnerable tears welled up as she kicked the dirt at her feet. “Please don’t hate me anymore, okay? Just say something. Anything. We were soul mates, Gwen. We were. Want to know a secret? An embarrassing one? I know you’ll keep it because that’s one promise you’d never break, no matter how much we’ve drifted apart. You’re still the only person I’ve ever kissed. You know, romantically. That’s pretty sad isn’t it? I’m a high school senior and I’ve only ever made out with my cousin, who just happens to be a girl as if I wasn’t pitiful enough.”

Gwen was like a stone.

“I’m such a loser. No offense to you.” Cheryl felt the blood rush into her cheeks and the sweat pool in her palms. “Look, the reason I came here is because I need advice and you’ve always listened to me and you may be the only person who can give me the answers I need. Okay, I’m just going to say it. I want to be a monster. Don’t laugh…”

Cheryl sucked the air deep into her lungs to compose herself in front of her cousin’s ridicule. “I’m a nobody. I want to change that! And I know you already think I’m a monster but I mean being a real one. But it’s okay. I understand. I just figured with where you are now, you’d be able to help me.”

The young girl pulled her jacket tighter and stared down at the tombstone. “I’m sorry I killed you. I really am. Thank you for never telling anyone it was me.”

As she turned from her cousin’s grave, a faint sound caught her ears. The sound of someone digging.