How to Slay a Beast (Book 1)

Chapter 9

"It wasn't a bear," Enoch and I were sitting on the floor of his room. The door was locked. I had biked into town and gotten the pictures printed at the pharmacy. I don't know why they let me go places by myself, after all that. But they did.

"No, no it wasn't a bear. And the bullets didn't stop it. They didn't do anything, it was like it didn't even feel them," I said, laying out the pictures. Most of them were dark, and blurry. But in a few you could clearly see a shape. And it was much bigger than a bear.

"A mythical creature," Enoch said, "like in the book." He ran and picked up Del's book. It was laying on Enoch's bed.

"Where did you get that?" I asked. Del had carried it to his room that night.

"From his room. I wanted to keep it safe," Enoch said, frowning, "Should I have left it there?"

"No—no it's okay," I said, shaking my head, "He'd want you to have it."

"Okay---look, it says right here, in order to conquer a beast, you cannot use ordinary means such as mortal weapons—like guns," he said, pointing at a line on the slick page of the book.

"It didn't work," I admit, "But if bullets didn't stop it what would? A knife would never work, or a sword. I couldn't get close enough."

"But it says, right, here---you can't kill a monster with guns. We're going to need to slay it. like a dragon," he said, reasonably.

"Dragons don't exist," I said.

"Neither does this," he said, holding up the picture, "This isn't something---this is a monster."

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath, "You're right. The gun obviously didn't work. and the rope didn't slow it down at all. We'll need to think of something else."

"Like a sword," Enoch said.

"I don't even know how to get a sword--- a real sword," I said, "I'd have to order one, I guess, I don't know. And I don't know if that would work."

"We need more information. We need to know how to fight a monster, and we need to know what sort of monster it is," Enoch said.

"Yeah, we do," I said, standing up, "Come on, let's go to the library."

**

"Is the gun ready yet?"

"Dude, it's not ready, like it's cooking, or something---it's like, we have get your background check---and stuff," the attendant said. It was the same guy. I wondered if he was always just there.

"Okay—okay---how long will that take?" I asked.

"Like I said, three, four days, you've gotta come back. later," the guy said.

"I have the money," I said, holding up an envelope I got from the bank. They wonder about me. I randomly come in and ask to withdraw large sums of money. I wonder if that will show up on my background check.

"That doesn't matter. Three days, like I said," the dude said.

"Okay, fine," I said, turning to go. Then I thought better of it, "Is there a shooting range around here?"

"No."

"Okay," I said, shaking my head. three days. It couldn't wait three days.

**

I don't know where I graduated from random internet searches about bear attacks to how to make a bomb. The idea just sort of came to me. Like Merry said. Somebody needed to kill this thing. This thing that took my little boy away. It was out there somewhere, in the woods, being alive. and my little boy was dead.