3 Unleashing the Monster

The men stepped closer to Michael, these cannibalistic pedophiles were ready to claim yet another victim, another unfortunate soul who happened to come that way.

Michael still did not retreat, though anybody with common sense would've run away from these men. To Michael, however, this was still only another dream, none of this could possibly be real. And if this was a dream, he wouldn't allow men like these to live in it, he wouldn't let this become another nightmare.

Instead of running away or cowering on the ground like these men thought he would do, Michael ran straight at them and went straight for the armed one before they knew what was going on. The man's grip on the knife was weak enough that Michael could hit it out of the way with a single quick strike before throwing a clenched fist at that man's throat. Before the other two could even react, that man gasped for air and fell back from the sheer force of Michael's punch.

Michael thought he could finish this man off before the other two could even come to their senses, but he was wrong. As he went to beat the first one down further, the other two grabbed him by both his arms and pulled him back. They restrained his arms to the point that he couldn't move either of them, as if they were both crushed under a heavy stone. It was clear that he couldn't possibly break free of their grip, but he still flailed around like a rabid animal in a desperate bid to break free, even kicking these men only lead to them tightening their grips even more to the point where it felt as if the bones would snap like dry twigs.

The first man got back up, having gotten been able to breathe once again, Michael's punch hadn't quite crushed his throat as he hoped it would. The man ignored the knife he had dropped when he nearly fainted from lack of oxygen and walked towards his brand new prisoner, more anger in his eyes now.

"Alright, don't make this harder than it needs to be." the man said.

"He's not going anywhere, John." said the man holding Michael's right arm. "We could rough him up a bit."

"No, that's no fun." the one named John replied, as he got nearer to Michael, ready to enact his horrible plans. "Keep that fucker still."

Michael didn't stop flailing around in a pathetic attempt to break free. But even with all that, the grips around his arms didn't loosen at all. These men were going to rape him, and then they might turn him into a meal like they did with that cart driver. That is, if he was lucky enough to get killed and not be kept for those men to rape again. This pleasant dream had turned into a horrible nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.

Before the first man got within reach of Michael, he made one more pitiful attempt to break free. He reached with his head for the neck of the man holding his right arm. It was just close enough for him to bury his teeth deep in that man's skin. He screamed and flailed a little got freedom like Michael had moments before. When he broke free, the skin in Michael's teeth came off, blood overflowed Michael's mouth as the tender meat hung from inside it. He spit out the meet and blood, the man's flesh tasting like sandpaper in his mouth.

As that man finally let go of Michael to stop the enormous flow of blood coming from his neck, he took his chance and threw that fist into the testicles of the other man holding him. In the immense pain, the man also forgot about his seemingly feral prisoner, and Michael was finally free.

This horrible man in front of him was still ready to strike again, but he was faster this time, knowing Michael wouldn't waste the chance. He ran and Michael, trying to tackle him before he could have a chance to fight back. But Michael had a different plan, anyone could see this man was far too big for Michael to handle fairly.

He moved to the side as the man lunged to tackle him, allowing him to fall to the ground. In the confusion, Michael grabbed a burning log from the nearby fire, one that had gotten a charred pointy edge as it burned. He didn't give the other man who restrained him a chance to recover from the pain in his testicles, he threw the jagged, burning edge of the log straight through his chest, possibly piercing his heart. The man bled a little, even despite the red hot log cauterizing his fresh wounds. In vain, he grabbed the log and tried to pull it out, but his strength quickly faded along with his life, and he feel to the ground instead. Michael felt a horrible bit of satisfaction at the brutal death of this man, he had only been fighting for his life, but a part of him was glad that he had done this, he had even forgotten about the other two men who were still very much alive and even more incensed than before.

As Michael finally realized that he had, indeed, forgotten about them, the one who's neck he had bitten was already standing in front of him, and a sharp pain came from his chest.

"That's what you get, you fucking cunt." said the bleeding man. While Michael was distracted, he had picked up the neglected knife and thrust it into Michael's left abdomen.

It felt too real, the blood gushing out, the intense, burning pain, the little vibrations in his ribs as the knife clipped them on it's way in. This finally made Michael realize the truth, that this wasn't a dream, it wasn't imagined at all. This intense pain would not be possible in a dream, no matter how convincing one could be, these horrible men were really trying to kill him. But a worse revelation came when he realized that he had, indeed, unleashed the monster, that the man he just killed was the first real-life victim of it. Whatever this place, or this world was, or how he even got there, he had done the one thing he had sworn never to do.

The bleeding man took the knife out of Michael's chest and got ready to stab him again and again until there was no life left in him. Michael held out his hand at the perfect trajectory for the knife to stab through it instead of him. Perhaps it was because of the all-too-real adrenaline, but this didn't hurt as badly as the fresh wound in his chest. While the man was distracted by the shock of his attack failing, Michael threw a punch in his face so hard that it threw him back and released his firm grip on the knife, leaving it still portruding from his hand. Michael took the knife out and before the pain finally registered fully, he slashed the knife across the bleeding man's throat, slicing it open and spraying more blood all over both their faces.

Even if this wasn't a dream, even if he was truly killing these men, Michael would not stop fighting, knowing what would happen if he did.

As the second man futilely gasped for air and tried to stem the flow of blood, falling down from both failing, the third one got back up. He made another tackle at Michael, only this one succeeded and he pinned him to the ground. He wrapped his hands around Michael's throat and squeezed with such force that it felt like he'd crush his windpipe with a few more seconds. But he had forgotten about the knife that Michael still had, which was thrust into his chest four times before he could even react.

As the pain went through him, feeling like it would burn him alive, his grip on Michael's throat lessened and he fell off of him to the side.

Michael could feel the monster wanting him to make this wretched man suffer for what he did to him and many before him, but he didn't want to satisfy it any more. He threw the knife, with all his strength in one single stab, right into this man's head, piercing his skull for one kill that was quicker than his friends. He died before either of his equally wretched companions died of their own wounds, a merciful blow he didn't really deserve.

As the adrenaline finally faded, Michael felt the pain from his chest and hand returning, burning as if he fell into the fire nearby. The blood soaked through his jacket and started dripping down his legs. Within a few seconds, the sleeve on his left hand was almost dripping as well.

The physical pain wasn't even the worst part of everything that happened. He was somewhere else, all alone, far away from anyone he knew, and he had just released the monster and killed three men for real. When the tears flowed from Michael's eyes, it wasn't because of the pain from being stabbed twice, but from his open acknowledgement of this fact. Now, he could never forgive himself.