The Beast I Have Become

Chapter 22

        I wake up the next morning with a groan. I cough, blood dripping from my lip. I retch and spit on the floor. My tongue hangs in disgust. I undo the chains and head to my bathroom. I look at my dead self in the mirror. I wipe my face and rid my mouth of the coppery taste.
        "You have to do this, Mark," I tell myself as I stare into my reflection. "You have to tame the beast. There's no way I can risk doing such asininity like that again. What the hell was I thinking?! Leave me loose for the beast to kill everyone?! I'm a dumbass, but that just plain fucking terribly fucking stupid! Don't risk the life of your friends for such stupid theories." I go and collapse onto my bed and let my eyes rest for a bit. After about two minutes, I fall asleep.
I wake up and look at the clock. The digital, glowing red numbers read 2:35. Great. It's already the afternoon. I sigh and adjust my glasses and wipe the bit of drool at the corner of my mouth before heading downstairs.
        "Hey, sorry I risked you guys' life for something stupid that I was theorizing," I say to Matt and Ryan as my head kinda droops. Matt and Ryan come over and put their hands on my shoulders.
        "Hey it's alright," Ryan says. "We do stupid things...even if it does mean our lives, but it's fine. You learned your lesson and nobody was hurt."
        "Yea," Matt says in agreement. "We're both fine. Not only that, but you realized that it was stupid and fixed it while you were transforming! That's awesome!" I give them a small smile. They're such great friends, even if I probably could've murdered them last night.
        "Thanks, guys," I reply. "Even though I put your lives in danger, you guys still forgive me. Thanks again. Now, what's for lunch? Or did you guy already eat?"
        "We haven't eaten yet," Matt says. "We were thinking burgers. That's fine with you, right?" My mouth is hanging open and my mouth is already watering. Matt and Ryan kinda laugh at my reaction.
        "Hell yea!" I say loudly. We all high five and I grab my keys and we hop into the car, Matt and Ryan racing to the passenger door to call shotgun. Matt made it with his pencil legs while Ryan had to deal with back. He sat right behind Matt, messing with him and goofing off. He'll poke the back of his neck or dig his hands or feet into the back of the seat. We all had a laugh as we rode. Everything seemed normal for once.
        We got there and ate and laughed some more. We wolfed our food down and almost choked on fries. We left to the car feeling very satisfied. It's almost seven o'clock. I know you're probably thinking, Mark what the fuck did you guys do in there? But it takes about twenty-five minutes there and then I got lost for a second. When we got there, it was packed and had to wait an extra hour and a half maybe (luckily we were talking the whole time so it felt like five minutes) and then had to wait about an hour for our food (which felt like thirty seconds because of talking again). After that, we paid, left a tip, and headed back to the car. I can feel a bit of the uneasiness I usually get a little before turning. I ignore it, thinking that it's only seven in the afternoon and that I can last. Matt and Ryan notice my small change of mood as I become a little quieter and laugh a little less and my jokes not being as good. They know what's happening, and begin to slightly worry.
        "You sure you're gonna make it?" Ryan asks. "I or Matt could drive instead." I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the road.
        "I'm fine," I say, my voice a bit rougher. "Seriously, I'm fine. It's only seven. I shouldn't turn till about eight or nine." Time passes by and the ill-feeling gets worse. As the pain slightly worsens, I can feel my grip on the steering wheel becoming tighter and tighter. We're almost there. Maybe five minutes. I can last. I hope. I continue driving home and the pain gets increasingly worse by the second, but I push it away and focus on not crashing. Ryan and Matt keep a close eye on me, though I clearly said that I was fine. We then get home and we rush inside. I'm almost at breaking point, it's pushing through. Ryan and Matt tell me to go straight to the basement and I take no time. I shove my glasses into Matt's hands and run down to tie the chains down around my neck. I slip on the metal collar and make sure that it's gonna stay on.
        "Do you need anything?" Ryan asks over my whimpers and growls. I shake my head and wrap my arms tightly around my torso. Matt and Ryan stay here, already knowing the plan. I then look up and snarl at them, they take a step back. Chain or no, I can still probably get at them. I lose my right state of mind as I try to sink my teeth into their flesh. My priority now is to kill. I snarl and growl. I now want to tear them to shreds.