Lightning streaks the sky and thunder booms loudly and seems to shake the earth. I look up at the clouds and pray that it won't rain or that I won't get struck by lightning. Don't even ask me what the fuck I'm doing out here. I'm for damn sure asking the same question myself. I wrap my arms around me as a cold gust of wind just about blows me off of my feet.
"I hate weather sometimes," I mutter to myself. I then see something that can give me nightmares for many nights as long as I live. I see Jack by a big tree. His mouth is cut an extra few inches because he cut it. Almost like that guy Jeff the Killer. It makes it look like he has a maniacal grin all of the time. His blood is dried on the knife he bares.
"Jack?" I ask, trying my best not to stutter. "What did you do?"
"I want to be happy all of the time," he says with a monotone voice while he cocks his head to the side, "so that even when I'm sad or mad people won't know."
"Jack," I say while taking a cautious step forward, "feeling all those other emotions are normal. That's what makes us human. You need serious help if you're harming yourself for that reason."
"I don't need help, Mark," he says with the same creepy voice. "I helped myself. I'm happy this way now and will be for the rest of my life."
"Jack," I say while eyeing the knife, "please put the knife down. It's very unnerving to see you baring a knife with your own blood on it."
"Maybe I can help you too," Jack says while looking at the knife in his hand and entirely ignoring my command.
I take a step back. "No thanks," I say, "I don't want any help. I'm fine the way I am."
"You never know until you try it, Mark," Jack says while taking a step towards me.
"Jack," I say, "don't come near me with that knife. It's unnerving. Please."
"I only want to help you," Jack says.
"No offense," I say while backing away as he comes closer, "but I don't want your help. I can help myself."
Suddenly everything disappears and it's now pouring. I look around in confusion as the rain quickly soaks me to my skin. Thunderclaps and lightning streak the sky like a horror movie light show. I look around in the rain and see the shadow of an apparition passing in the corner of my eye every time I turn my head. My adrenaline starts to kick in a little bit as my mental danger senses blare red. I instinctively growl and lift my lip a bit to reveal my sharp teeth.
"Jack?" I call out. I hear the rustling of leaves and keep seeing a 'shadow man' in the corner of my eyes. I hunch my back a bit and worriedly look around. My adrenaline is pumping and my breathing and heartbeat are going quicker than they need be.
"Let me help you, Mark," Jack's voice echoes from everywhere.
"Jack?!" I call out. "Jack, your fucking insane! I'm serious this time!"
"When have I ever been sane, Mark?" Jack's voice echoes again.
I instinctively look around and try to find the location of the voice. Even if I am looking up a bit. I growl and worriedly look around, my pointier nails bared. If I had a tail right now, it'd be between my legs. I'm in kind of a defensive/scared position just to give you a visual.
"I can help, Mark," Jack's voice echoes like last time. "You'll love it once I do it. I promise. I was worried at first but look at me now. I love it."
"I'm fine, Jack," I reply, a little annoyed to his 'advice'. "I'd be way better without your help. Thanks but no thanks. I'm a grown man. I can deal with my own 'problems' if I have one, ok? Just leave me alone."
"You're worse than I thought," Jack's voice says. "You're in need of more help than I thought. I'm gonna have to really force you to do the procedure, huh?"
I growl loudly in frustration. "NO!" I yell with anger. "JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!!!"
This is like explaining to a kid what sex is, I thought to myself. They just keep on with the questions even when you cram the answer down their throat.
My anger rises terribly. I'm not sure if this is Jack's intention or if he has something else planned, but if he's trying to piss me off, then it's working. I usually don't get pissed, but it's just so fucking frustrating! Jack continues his statements of how I need his "help". My anger boils up more and more with every word that comes out. He's gonna make me turn.
"OH GODDAMMIT, JACK!!!" I yell, spittle flying from my mouth. "JUST FUCKING SHOW YOURSELF, YOU OVERSIZED PUSSY!!!"
I'm literally foaming from the mouth before Jack comes walking out from the trees.
"Why so mad, Mark?" Jack says. "See what I mean? You're mad. You need to be happy, Mark. Happy."
"I'm fine with my regular human emotions, Jack," I snarl. "Just leave me the hell alone. I don't want nor need your help!"
"But you need my-" Jack's sentence gets cut short.
"I. DO. NOT. NEED. YOUR. HELP." I snarl. "I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKIG HELP!!!"
I run my fingers through my hair, just about ripping it out. I'm trying to calm myself down, but it's hard. I stiffly walk up to Jack and grab his shoulders with a grip much harder than intended. Jack cringes to my iron, hard, bone-crushing grip.
"Jack," I say, "just a warning, but if you even try to touch me with that knife, I'm gonna rip your arm off."
"There is no need for such violence," Jack says.
"When I'm running from someone who's my friend who's now a complete nut, then yes," I say. "There is a need."
I feel him graze my stomach with the tip of his knife. My gaze shoots down to his damned knife and right into Jack's crazed blue eyes. I bare my teeth and give him a daring look.
"Jack," I growl, "don't you even dare. If you do then off with your arm. I mean it."
Jack daringly grazes my stomach again. I grab his wrist, still keeping eye contact with him. I twist his wrist with a crack as he drops the knife. Jack whines and cringes. To be entirely honest, I don't think I have the balls to actually rip his arm off. Jack sticks the claws of my free hand into my stomach. That does it. I pull his arm with a huge jerk and I hear the pop from where his arm dislocated from its socket. Jack cries out and I use my other hand to crack his other wrist and undo his claws from my stomach.
"Didn't I warn you?" I snarl, my anger at boiling point. "Did you seriously think I was sane enough to not do it? Well, I'm not. Not at all."
I give his arm another jerk and his arm comes with it this time. Jack cries out loudly and falls to his knees.
"AAAAH DAMMIT!!!" Jack screams. "MARK WHAT THE FUCK?!?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?!?! I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING!"
"You lost it, Jack," I mutter, my voice a bit rough. "I have no idea what happened, but you went a bit insane. No joke this time. I'm not even going to explain the story with your arm."
"My mouth is so damn sor-" Jack cuts off once he feels the extensions on his mouth that he made.
I thought my anger would seep out my ass, but it didn't. My body remains at a boiling hot temperature. I know, Jack's back to normal (for the time being at least) and he isn't trying to kill me like he was just mere seconds ago. So then, why am I still angry? It frustrates me even more not knowing what's frustrating me which as well pisses me off for letting such a stupid thing frustrate me. It's just a vicious cycle that can only lead me downhill.
"Whoa!" Jack says as he yanks his other hand off my shoulder. "Ouch, shit!" Remember that that wrist is broken too. Also, my body is literally boiling hot, that's why he reacted the way he did.
"Dammit, Jack," I say a bit more softly, "I'm so sorry for ripping your arm off. It's just that what you were scared every cell in my body. My instincts went up and above and I couldn't control my actions."
"That's fine, Mark," Jack says, "but that doesn't stop me from making you the way you need to be."
"Wha?" I ask, not really paying much attention to the sudden turn of events. I then become very alert as Jack has the knife in his hand again.
Shit, I thought, I thought we were done with this bullshit. Now we're right fucking back to square fucking one!
I bare my teeth and growl in anger and to be menacing. Jack gives me a challenging look, he's just asking for it. A bit of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth to form a small, not that noticeable smirk. The muscles around my mouth tighten and make my snarl even more aggressive than it already is.
"Don't make me rip off the other arm, Jack," I warn with sincerity. "I will if I have to, so don't think I'm not lying. I already ripped one of them off, I can make it even for you."
Jack's smirk falters a bit before it gains its strength again. The knife falls from his grip and for a second I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but I then noticed the transformation going on. Jack's fingers lengthen and thin out into long, Freddy Kruger-like blades. Just that Jack's aren't a glove nor on a single hand.
"Oh Goddammit, give me a fucking break already!" I wined out loud. "Do I seriously have to kill you just to stop your insanity?"
I never really thought I'd be saying or doing the things I've done to Jack. Ever. Being so far into thought, I didn't notice Jack slice the skin on my stomach. I cry out and fall to my knees before my screams turn to snarls of instinctive and defensive fury. My stomach heals, but not before at least 95% of my blood gushes out. I can imagine I'm pretty damn pale if my hands are pale too. My vision is blurry and my limbs and body heavy. Jack doesn't give me enough time to regain regular blood flow. All I see is him bringing up his arm over his head and slashing downward, my body in the perfect position for a decapitation.
YOU ARE READING
The Beast I Have Become
WerewolfI don't know what happened... I was walking and then this thing comes out of nowhere and sinks its teeth and claws into me. My skin tears and seemily gallons of blood pooled on the forest floor. I knew then that I would die... But life had somethi...
