He was being chased by monsters. He didn’t know why, or what they wanted.
They were the strangest, most terrifying creatures he had ever laid eyes on.
He sprinted through the forest, not even stopping to look back at them to see how far behind they were as the trees and bushes whipped past him.
The sun pierced only slightly through the forest canopy; rows of huge pine trees creating a blanket of darkness below them.
The image of his pursuers seemed tattooed to his eyeballs.
Their tall, lumbering figures and large piercing eyes that stared straight through him.
They seemed like shadows, their bodies were almost the same colour as the forest, blending in perfectly with their surroundings.
They had given almost immediate chase, taking impossibly large strides as they moved quickly towards him.
His instincts had kicked in without even consulting him, and before he could take a second to think, he was sprinting in the opposite direction.
There were at least two of them, but he couldn’t be sure, all he knew was that he had to keep running.
He surveyed his location intently for anywhere he could turn or possibly hide to throw them off his tail.
The smell of sweat and wet bark filled him as he panted. Although he was breathing heavily, the adrenaline pumping through his veins pushed him harder and faster with every stride.
The path which he ran along was covered by a thick layer of dead pine needles, which had become slippery from the moisture in the dewy air.
It made it hard to keep his footing and he found himself slipping as he dodged in between small bushes and over fallen trees.
Eyes wide with fear, he snapped his head over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his followers.
They were nowhere to be seen.
Have I outrun them? He thought.
Against his better judgement, almost without slowing down, he took his chance and scrambled into the nearest bush and lay down on his stomach as flat as physically possible.
Part of his long red coat got snagged on the foliage and tore away, hanging lifelessly from the small branch and contrasting obviously against the green of the leaves. He tried to stay as still and as silent as he could but the heaviness of his heaving breaths weren't doing him any favours.
His face was so close to the ground that with every exhalation, the dirt below his nostrils would scatter violently in all directions then settle as he breathed in.
Please don’t find me, please don’t find me...He prayed repeatedly.
It had been what seemed like an eternity, and they had not come. His breath had settled, but he could still feel his heart thumping out of his chest.
His eyes were hurting from how widely they gazed into nothingness, as though there was somehow a direct relationship between how open they were and the efficiency of his hearing. He listened intently, filtering out the sounds of the forest in desperate detection of anything foreign.
He wasn’t only listening for signs of the beasts, but also for signs of his brother. He and Reynard had been playing in a clearing in the forest only an hour ago, but he had tired of the games and gone exploring without him.
It was little use, because he smelled them far before he heard them. The stench was sickening; a mix between wet dog and something his words couldn’t even explain. It grew stronger as they got closer, and then he heard them; grunting noises and the shuffling of large feet.
He assumed they were talking to each other but he couldn’t understand a thing they were saying.The tone of their conversation and the speed at which they were moving made it clear that they didn’t know he was hiding under the bush only twenty meters in front of them.
Impossibly, his eyes grew even wider.
…please don’t find me, please don’t find me...He started again.
They were close now, around a meter from his hiding place. He didn’t realise it, but he had been holding his breath. He squeezed his eyes shut.
…please…please…please…He repeated, over and over in his head.
His heart dropped. They had stopped right at the bush.
One of them, in a deep grumble, muttered something as it plucked at the bushes.
It was the piece of his coat that had gotten caught. He couldn’t believe his bad luck. His mind was racing at a million miles an hour in time with his darting eyes.
Somehow, they were still unaware that he was hiding there right beneath them as they talked.
His thoughts were interrupted by another scent. The wet dog smell that was so strong before suddenly made sense.
It was back, but this time slightly less sweet, stronger and coupled with the sound of barking. At least three dogs were leading another group of the unknown beasts, and they would soon catch up with the others standing in front of the hiding place.
It was over, he knew it. They could surely smell him already; it was only a matter of time before they would sniff him out and reveal his hiding spot.
As the second group caught up, something had been dropped with a ‘thump’ right in front of his eye line from beneath the bushes next to the creature’s foot.
He let out a tiny gasp and a whimper.
It was his younger brother, Reynard. He laid there, his glassy lifeless eyes staring right into his.
He screamed with every part of his body, but without sound or movement.
He began to weep. His brother’s contorted body looked so horrifying yet so beautiful. Reynard's red coat, which matched his brother’s, was splattered with blood and dirt.
In his death, Reynard had masked the location of his brother’s hiding spot.
The dogs must have been confused by the similar scent, and were oblivious to him.
The beast had apparently realised it, and with one movement, grabbed Reynard and stuffed him into a large brown sack.
He kneeled down and spoke to the dogs, placing the piece of red coat close to each of their noses as he instructed them. The dogs went immediately into action, their loud sniffing noises all in sync as they searched.
He had to make a decision. They had already killed his brother, and he would surely be next if he didn’t make a break for it. He burst from the bushes, as quickly as he could.
He ran back the way he came from, in a hope that the trail of scent he had left before would lead the dogs astray.
His efforts were in vain. He might have surprised them; but he could not out run their guns.
With a loud crack, the shot caught him in the ankle and sent him sprawling and toppling onto the forest floor.
The dogs gave immediate chase at the call of their masters and as he tried to get up, he fell back to his stomach.
Crawling and thrashing as fast as he could he attempted to flee but was no match for their speed.
He turned and faced his death, grinning in fearful submission as he arched his back and curved his body.
“Please, no!” he barked into the cold wet air as they sank their teeth into him.
His voice was muffled as they choked at his neck. He lashed out at them but it was no use.
He felt the life leaving him. The noises of excitement and congratulations from the monsters as they closed in filled him with the most desperate hopelessness.
His final thoughts were of his mother, as she sat, curled up in the den waiting for him and his brother to return.
Thoughts of her kind whiskered face.
Her beautiful red and white coat.
Her big, bushy red tail.
But her boys would never come home.
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YOU ARE READING
You Monster
Short StoryWhat are these creatures who are giving chase? What do they want? Should he run? Hide? Confront them? Fear grips him as he flees through the forest. Will he escape, or meet his confusing death?