Deep in the woods of which above the mountains roar, where the rapids flow with thick white foam-where the monsters roam and the creatures weep, a body, naked and disfigured lays among the thick green brush and jagged peaks. Its seafoam eyes wide open still seethed with a glaze of horror and plea, corners of the mouth torn, a current raging still from the nose and ears, the blood not yet dried or clogged. Pity, pity such a helpless form, joints dislocated and some limbs missing, the insides pulled out from the abdomen, pulled from a large bite only to be wrapped around the forms neck, which in itself didn't look quite right. Was it the greyish hue? Or was it the black burbly foam coating the neck?
Like the old tales of Viking punishment, the ribcage impaled the bodies back, turned inside out to resemble eagles wings spread open mid-flight, coated with rosey flesh and sticky gooe. Lungs and heart were nowhere to be seen, as so were the kidneys and liver, the femur of the left leg and spine. Yet in the distance amongst the rustle of the leaves in the evening breeze, an unsettling sound of crunching echoed through the trees. Like a dog chewing on a chicken bone, the slurping and crackling continued amongst the cries of the doe by the nearby stream. Vicious and needy it never paused for a mere fraction of a second.
The body, what seemed to once be a girl with thick curls of auburn now was painted with a plump and bruised face, her breasts, or now only one, had scratch marks like when a cat suckles on your shirt with its mittens digging into your skin, churning and turning, digging into your flesh. The sound subsided, starting to get more quiet and quiet until it completely stopped.
A hand, a crooked paw of fur and ragged claws emerged from the evergreen brush by the girl, it rummaged around the grass, it was looking for something. Its black claws resembled ones of an Eagle, it's paws of a barbiblal yet the size was more like a lions. The paw prodded around for a bit more until it finally touched upon the girl's thigh, it sunk its claws deep into the flesh and shook it with suck strength the skin began to tear. A second paw came into vision, it too large and unsettling. It pinned the leg to the ground as it tore the leg away from its body. Bones cracked and flesh oozed red, connective tissue tried its best but to no avail, the leg was gone like the left and right hand.
The paws took hold of the leg tightly, slowly lifting it to the Bush they emerged from. A face, a face of no man's dreams slowly opened its mouth to sink its teeth in, teeth of which a wolf or even a sabretooth tiger would envy. It chewed on the flesh, suckled its blood and picked the bone. Its eyes, like hollow pits with no pupil or anything, seemed to glow with a soft chestnut glow. once it finished feasting upon the flesh, its long snake-like tongue licked anything that remained on the bone before with its paws it cracked the femur into two and sucked out all the bone marrow.
A murder of crows sat on the neighbouring oaks, watching with their beady eyes the feast unwinding before them, their navy tinted wings fluttering in excitement. Yet none dared to utter a single sound out their beaks, fearing they might disturb the beast's feet. Once it left, leaving little to nothing behind, the crows would clean up like always, always following the beast to every hunt it took on. They were the only birds, only animals that dared to stay close to the beast. As everything that ever tried to get close would end up as its prey.
*
Dolly Moe sat in her garden, it was the twentieth of June at exactly noon, sitting in her garden of which the roses slumped in a forever slumber, the tulips no longer giving their standing ovation returned into a deep coma, their red and white petals falling onto the dry dirt floor. Dolly brushed strands of her black hair behind her small ear, plump cheeks coated in a faint flush of pink, and so we're her small thin lips. Her cobalt eyes fixated on the forest behind a tall wire fence, rusted over many years of service. She wore a short, puffed up dress with rounded sleeves, a soft salmon fabric decorated with golden patterns on the upper half of the dress, separated by a wide white ribbon tied at the back. White stockings drooping over her knees and black velcro shoes tossed to the side on the yellow grass.
A soft sigh escaped her lips, eyes closed for a minute before opening again. 'He said he wouldn't be late this time,' she muttered to herself, 'and here I am, sitting for an hour already. Mind telling me where Sonnet us Mr Kitty?' she extended her hand to take her small fingers into the thick and long coat of a white cat who sat beside her, its yellow eyes turned into skits staring into the forest, tails swooshing from side to side. It meowed as a respond. Its pink nose twitched as it sniffed the air, it's pink tongue run over its sharp white teeth. 'I know I know... He's always late.'
As if summons by command, a tall, inhumanly thin figure emerged from the forest, glided through the fence as if it were thin air. The figure was ghostly pale with horns of a ram that were no darker than an eggshell. It had no face, no expression, no eyes, mouth or nose. Just a blank canvass. It worse no clothes as there was no need to. The figure was a smear of paint on a white sheet of paper, only detail being in the horns. {Pardon the time, ma'am} a voice echoed, it wasn't really a voice, more of a force, like a ripple in a pond, {I was caught up in a prickle, as a matter of fact, it revolves around your very self} Dolly picked up the white cat and stood up to greet the newcomer, a broad smile on the younglings face. Yet the figure made no effort to aknolage her, it just glided in towards the house behind Dolly.
Dolly had to run to catch up, the cat meowing in her arms, 'around me? What do you mean Sonnet?' she asked, looking up at the figure.
After a lengthy amount of silence, it replied. {the beast has awakened. Just as teh property detected.}