Sunday, April 28, 2013

Release The Beast, A PicPrompt

Please be aware that ALL of this writing is copyright protected as my own creative content, and NO PART of any post/story may be reproduced, copied or used in 
ANY WAY, ANYWHERE, at ANY TIME.


Photo courtesy of  nixxphotography | freedigitialphotos.net
Release The Beast
copyright 2013, Brandi Kennedy

*****

He'd done it for the last time. He'd taken from me for the last time. He'd hurt me for the last time. And I was
FINISHED
with hurting over the lies and the loss.
I was over it, in a way I'd never felt before.


I stalked him quietly as he walked. We'd been at my house, talking for hours. Fighting for hours. I'd confronted him again, asking him about the other girl, about the parties and all the lies. And he'd lied to me again, looking plainly into my face, as if that could save him. He'd disrespected me for the last time, treating me like a blind fool who couldn't see the truth in the black abyss of his lies. I'd sent him away, screaming for him to leave, afraid of what might happen to him if he denied it again.

I'd given him an escape, sending him away.

And seeing the smirk as he strutted down my driveway, I changed my mind. I changed. I watched him walk as I stood in my living room and stripped away the clothes that helped me appear human. Closing my eyes, I allowed the beast within me to take me over, to come to the forefront. My fingers grew longer, claws ripping through my fingertips. My skin trembled, hair springing forth as the change came over me, as the beast was released. And then I followed him.

He turned, feeling the heat of my anger burning into him. The fire was a warning to him, as it would be to all humans; when they felt it, they'd walk faster, stop talking, and try to disappear. He did it too, walking a little faster and tucking his neck down into his shoulders, his instinct to protect himself, to look out for his own back.

He didn't know what was coming.

He didn't know I was coming.

Creeping along behind him, I waited until he crossed the sidewalk and stepped into the street. Growling softly, I padded closer, watching him as he turned to look at me. I smelled the fear and as I approached, I smelled the urine. Pulling my lips back in what would have been my human smile, I bared my teeth, loving the scent of his racing blood. He froze, and my chest rumbled, a vicious snarl tumbling out of me while the human inside me laughed at his cowardice.

And then I let go of my inner beast completely.

I lunged forward, my claws scrambling for purchase on the asphalt as he turned clumsily to run, falling into the street and trying to scoot away from me in an awkward crab-walk. There was no hope for him, there was no escape. He'd been offered his final chance, and humankind could do without his vicious disrespect.

Landing heavily on his chest, I threw him back, snarling again as his head his the pavement. He grunted, turning his head against the pain, not realizing that in doing so he bared his throat to me. So many times as a human, I'd kissed that same throat, loving the rumble of pleasure that would flow out of him like liquid sex. So many times I'd grazed him with my teeth, loving the way he trembled under my touch. Not this time.

This time, I dug my claws into him, holding him with the weight of my beast and the strength of my paws. I licked his face, tasting the tears of his pathetic fear. And when I nuzzled his throat for the last time, I growled a soft goodbye.

When my jaws clenched tight, sinking teeth into the tender flesh of his throat, he finally screamed, and I silenced his cry as he had silenced all of mine, with a quick and final shake of my head. He gurgled as the blood flowed into the street, puddling around him. His eyes watched me, confused as I crept along the length of his struggling body, biting and clawing deliberately, opening his flesh and spilling his blood.

Before it was over, I crept over and sat beside him, whining softy to bring his eyes to mine. I commanded the beast back, allowing the change to touch my eyes, bringing out the green he would recognize even in the face of the beast. He knew me; he shuddered and gurgled, reaching one hand weakly out to me. Snapping viciously, I ripped his hand open, and as he jerked it back to his chest, crying desperately, I turned and left him.

Alone.
Like me.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Like this post? Leave me a comment - and don't forget to check "notify me" so you'll get an alert when I reply!

REAL CHARACTERS. HONEST LOVE. BRANDI KENNEDY BOOKS.