School finally reopens that following Thursday. The ride to school is very silent. We pull into the school lot, which is swarming with police.
"Okay, keep your phone on you at all times.”
"I will.”
"I love you, Iva," she says with a warm smile.
"I love you too, mom.”
I hop out and shut the door and then step onto the walkway. The mood here is so depressing. What makes matters worse is the grayness outside. The clouds are so dark today, and I forgot to mention it’s also cool and windy.
There’s no usual clowning around or side conversations in the hallways. Everything and everyone appears dim. In Computer Science, we mostly sit in silence. The atmosphere is similar in Social Psychology. All of the Professors are just sitting at their desk bathing in silence most of the time.
I then head over to my last class for the day, Biology. The class is short a couple of students, including Jason. Professor Nelson closes the door and pauses before starting the class.
"Good morning," his voice is lower than usual. "I would like to start off on a side-note.”
He clears the hoarse from his throat.
"If there’s anyone in here, who feels they're having a hard time dealing with recent events, you are excused. I will not hold you accountable for your absence, whatsoever. I’ll have a makeup day for anyone who misses class today.”
He pauses to scan the room. Suddenly, a girl stands and modestly leaves the classroom. He pauses once more for anyone else who may want to excuse themselves.
"Today we will be reviewing chromosomes," he continues with class.
Before long, class is over and I’m gathering my belongings. Suddenly, my cell-phone vibrates. I pull it from my pocket and discover a text message from my mom that reads…
“CAUGHT UP AT WORK, I WILL BE A LITTLE LATE. STAY SAFE.”
I finish gathering the rest of my belongings and join the fleeing crowd, but Professor Nelson calls to me as I pass his desk.
"Iva.”
"Yes, Professor Nelson.”
“I want to have a word with you about last Friday.”
He rises from his seat and approaches me with his head lowered.
"What do you want to discuss?" I ask him.
"When I came in, what were you and Grant talking about?"
"We were just having a casual conversation about…school. Why?”
"It’s just I notice him acting a bit strange. Didn’t you?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I noticed that myself.”
"Do you have any idea why?"
"No," I reply regrettably.
Professor Nelson leans backward against his desk and folds his arms as his mind immerses into a trance.
"I know I can seem nosy sometimes but that’s because I want the students and faculty safe.”
“I understand,” I agree with him.
He looks down at the shiny floor titles and pauses to reflect on the tragedy.
“I can't stop thinking about him,” he goes on. “He was a good teacher and a good friend. He didn’t deserve that," he finishes the sentence with glistening eyes.
"I know. It’s so unreal. I feel bad that I didn’t attend the ceremony.”
"It was really nice. They have a very beautiful memorial at the park for him," he tells me.
"I’ve heard. How do you get there? I want to pay my respects. I owe him that much.”
"Make a left up the street, can't miss it.”
"Thanks Professor, see you on Tuesday.”
"You have a nice day, Ms. Hill," he replies as I exit the room.
I make my way out of the building and check the time on my cell-phone. It’s now 3:40. I cut through the parking lot and proceed up the sidewalk. All I can think about is Professor Nelson and what he told me in class. He also noticed Professor Grant's peculiar behavior, so that proves that I’m not imagining things. He seemed afraid or worried.
I see three students coming down the sidewalk. Their eyes are red and watery from continuous grief. I look down at the sidewalk, away from their gloomy expressions. I can't stand looking at anymore sad faces. When they pass by me, I muster the courage to lift my eyes again.
As I continue to walk, the wooded area next to me turns into a green clearing. The park is a wide field with trees surrounding it. Two other students are walking away from a small platform at the opposite end of the field. I recognize them from my English class. They give a friendly nod as they pass by me and I return the favor.
I feel my eyes starting to sting as I get closer to the memorial. I stop a couple of feet away to admire all of the beautiful flowers, pictures, teddy bears, and candles. I stare sorrowfully at one of his many pictures.
I softly shake my head in utter disappointment as I stare at his portrait.
"I'm so sorry Professor Grant," I whisper to him.
I look away momentarily to swallow the burning ball in my throat. After taking time to recuperate, I kneel into the grass and take off my book-bag. I then pull out his story and place it next to some roses.
"I enjoyed it, a lot," I whisper lowly to his picture.
His smile is so genuine and his eyes are so blameless. Who would kill such an innocent soul? But most importantly, why do I feel so goddamn guilty for what happened?
The sadness is too much to endure, so I force myself to turn and walk away. I refuse to stare at his blameless eyes any longer.
Out of nowhere, I hear another pair of walking feet. I immediately stop walking when I hear the sound. I remain completely still and alert.
A gust of wind hits me. It delivers a chill over my body, causing me to fold my arms automatically. Although I’m wearing a wool-coat, it’s still no match for the bitterness of this autumn day. The air is brisk, the ground is cold and wet, and the clouds are dense across the evening sky.
Seconds passes by as I remain on edge. I stand absolutely motionless and attentive, hoping I'm just being paranoid. Crows burst from the tree tops and scatter across the murky sky. My heart jumps slightly as they abruptly scatter into the air and disappear from my sight.
I shake the jitters from my head, relieving my mind from the tension, and continue walking again.
“It’s all in my mind,” I think to myself.
Just to be on the safe side, I quicken my pace.
“Iva,” a voice calls out to me somewhere within the woods.
I stop walking instantly. The uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, that I tried to ignore, lashes back at me with a vengeance. The voice sounds like the voice of a woman. This causes fear to blanket me.
I begin to walk again. This time my legs are moving twice as fast. I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is following me.
“Please help,” the voice shouts from the woods. “Iva, help me please!”
Suddenly, a disturbing realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I stop walking again. A dose of terror turns my body colder than ever. My heart is beating like a drum against my chest.
“Mom!” I shout into the woods.
How could this be? My mother should be at work right now.
“Help me!” my mother calls out in anguish.
Immediately, I’m ravaged by fear for my mother’s life. With wrecked nerves, I hurry inside the woods.
“Mom, where are you?”
“Help me.” she cries out.
I begin looking around for her with desperate eyes, but a thin mist makes it difficult for me to see. I squint as hard as I can, trying to see beyond the fog. She could be anywhere.
“Where are you?” I speak at a high volume; my voice echoing through the endless forest.
“Over here,” she says with a burdened voice.
I follow her continuous cry for help; ducking under low branches, parting hanging vines, and leaping over large roots protruding from the muddy soil. It doesn’t take me long to find her resting against a tree, panting.
“I’m over here,?
?? she cries out in agony.
She’s wearing a long brown cloak, which is concealing her entire body. That is very strange because she has never owned a cloak or robe. I know my mom like the back of my hand. Long clothing has never been her style.
“Mom, I’m here. Are you okay…?” I stop speaking when I notice something creepy.
My mom isn’t six-feet tall.
“Honey, come closer,” she cries out to me with her back turned.
I stop dead in my tracks about thirty-feet away from her. I'm now close enough to see her clearly through the fog.
“Come closer,” she groans in pain again.
An ugly feeling grows inside of me. My neck gets hit with a cool sensation that makes its way down my spine and lingers there. This is a sensation you can’t get from brisk weather; instead, you get this feeling when you realize something very bizarre. There’s something about this whole situation that doesn’t add up correctly.
My mom has no reason being out here. The wind comes through the forest fiercely. The strong gust of air disturbs everything in sight. The top of the cloak is blown back and now her head is finally uncovered.
That eerie feeling on my spine invades my entire body, consuming me like a raging fire. I see a pale, wrinkly, head covered in thin strands of dark hair. I also see long ears dangling on each side of its head. I’m now gripped by unfathomable horror. I gasp deeply and try to conceal my fear by covering my mouth.
I can barely cover my mouth because my hand is quivering badly. I’ve never felt so terrified in my entire life. The fear is so powerful it makes my legs weaken. I stumble back a little and nearly fall but I grab the side of a tree to balance myself.
“Iva, I need your help baby. Come closer to me,” this thing, who is obviously not my mother, cries out to me.
Another dose of fear hits my bloodstream, causing me to become paralyzed temporarily. In other words, I’m literally scared-stiff right now. What the hell am I looking at, and why does it sound like my mother? My mind is too confused and scared to come up with any reasonable answers.
“You're not my mother,” I reply with fear attached to every syllable. “Who are you?”
Suddenly, this thing stops groaning; as if it has been acting the entire time.
“You’re a brave girl, Iva Hill,” it says to me in a man’s voice. “You're brave but very, very, gullible.”
His voice sounds very odd. The tone in his voice is weak and low; similar to an elderly man’s voice. As he speaks, my muscles tenses up and my breathing increases.
“Why would someone so defenseless like you go running into the woods, all alone? Don’t you know a killer is on the loose?”
The thing looks over at me. Its eyes stare deeply into mine. I flinch hard at the first sight of its hideous face.
Its skin is similar to human skin, but its eyes are spaced apart with large bags underneath them. Its nose is large with a mole on its tip. In short, this creature resembles a Bloodhound with human-like features. All of its teeth are pointy and its wide mouth is dripping saliva. I begin to hyperventilate as it starts to smile menacingly.
By its physique one can assume it’s a male.
“I can’t help but wonder who his next victim could be. Perhaps it’s you.” he says while maintaining that creepy smile.
Without warning, he swiftly charges toward me with a long dagger in the air. He's coming towards me at an alarming speed, eager to thrust that sharp dagger into my face. He’s fast approaching and I’m too scared to move. My breathing ceases and my body tenses up like never before.
He’s closing in for the kill and I don’t know how to defend myself. Luckily, instinct blinks on like a bulb before he’s able to slice me open. I swiftly dodge right and stumble onto the forest floor. Now my hands are covered in cold mud and leaves. The tall creature is now standing where I was with the dagger stuck inside of a tree.
He yanks the blade from the tree and suddenly breaks out laughing.
“I really thought I had you there,” the creature tells me while laughing.
He slowly begins to walk toward me with the dagger gripped tightly in his hand.
“Someone help me!” I scream defensively on the cold forest floor.
I lift my hand into the air, gesturing for the creature to keep his distance. I can see murder in his abnormally large eyes.
“Postponing the enviable, aren’t we?” he asks me while tossing the dagger from hand to hand.
“Oh my God, oh my God…” I say repeatedly as he gets closer.
My mind is completely distorted. I don’t have the slightest clue what to do now. I can try to get up and run but he’s way too fast for that. I’ll be dead before I’m able to stand to my feet.
A thought hits me. I remember my uncle giving me a special gift. As I recall, I put it in this exact jacket. With any luck, it may still be in my pocket. I swiftly reach into my pocket while he lifts the dagger over his head.
Before he forces the weapon toward me, I pull out a can of mace and squeeze down on the nozzle as hard as I can. The mace glazes his large eyeballs. The creature then leaps back and screeches in pain.
“My eyes…!” the creature shouts in extreme agony.
Using his forearm he attempts to ease the agonizing, burning, pain in his eyes. He rubs his face with the back of his hand and forearm.
“You bitch!”
In a heated rage, he lifts the dagger high into the air and attempts to stab me. He completely misses me by two-feet. The mace has rendered him blind. Shouts erupt from his mouth as he stabs the ground with all of his might multiple times like a lunatic. I roll sideways, away from his fiery wrath.
He’s accidentally stabs a root protruding from the ground, breaking the blade. I stand and take off running back to the field. My legs have never moved so fast. My entire body is numb by fear.
“I’ll kill you! This is not over!” the creature shouts through the fog from a distance. “I will find you!” his voice echoes throughout the grim forest.
All I can hear is my shoes crunching into the leaves on the forest floor as I continue to run for my life. I know death comes for us all, but I prefer the scenario involving no pain and me being a very old woman sleeping in my bed. I take a quick glance over my shoulder to keep track of the creature’s progression. Luckily for me, it’s not pursuing me.
I stop running for a moment to look around for a clearing. I can’t see the field in any direction because of the dense fog. I must find a way out of these woods before it’s too late.
“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I look around for an escape route.
All I can see are bare trees and fog that stretches as far as my eyes will allow me to see.
“You will know pain!” the creature’s voice echoes throughout the woods.
I then hear the sound of feet running toward me. Panicked, I begin to sprint in a random direction, hoping to God it’s the right way out of here.
My legs are moving as fast as they can, but the large branches on the forest floor makes it difficult to run without stumbling. I try my best to hurdle over them so I can maintain a constant speed. I then notice a glimpse of hope in the distance; the woods are thinning and the field is coming into view.
“Come on, you're almost there,” I tell myself subconsciously.
Not long after, I dart out of the woods and onto the field. The road is roughly fifty-yards ahead of me.
“Someone help me!” I scream at the top of my lungs as I run.
I glance over my shoulder again and see the creature bursting from the woods. My soul jumps from my body when I notice it charging onto the field. It stops, only momentarily, to search for me. His large bloodthirsty eyes discover me fleeing the scene.
When he sees me escaping, this makes him angrier than before. It starts to chase after me with its hands chopping the wind like a track-star. My panicky mind is working overtime for a plan B. I look forward again at t
he road growing in front of me.
I push myself even harder, trying my best to move my legs faster than before. I ignore my weakening stamina and the urge to catch my breath. I have no other option. If I stop now, I’m going to be ripped to pieces. As I turn to check on the creature’s progression, I witness its speed double.
This thing is determined to kill me. I shift my eyes forward and see a small ditch in the grass. I trip and hit the grass hard. The fall forces the air from my lungs. I rotate onto my back and see him speeding towards me. The expression on his face is fulfillment; as if he’s been aching to kill me for a long time. It’s too late for me to do anything. I don't even have the time to scream for help.
He extends his hand back and prepares to drive his claws into my face. In this very moment, when every bit of hope is lost, a black mass comes leaping across the air. This large black figure collides into the creature. Their collision creates a sound similar to erupting thunder. Suddenly, the park bench to my left explodes as the creature’s body goes flying through it.
Its body bounces off the dirt like a rock skipping on the surface of water. The creature is knocked-out by the collision, resting motionless on its stomach.
“Oh my God,” my words come out uneasily; mixed together with deep, uncontrollable, breaths.
At my feet, to my left, I spot this huge heap of black fur. It rises off the grass until it’s standing on all four paws. Slowly, it rotates its body to face me. I feel my joints tighten harder than before as its yellow eyes penetrate through mines and consumes my soul. These yellow eyes belong to an adult lion.
He takes a couple of steps toward me and lowers his huge face close to mine. Reflex causes me to lean away from his face. He breathes in deeply through his nose. Each breath he takes causes my hair to flow back.
"Are you alright Iva?" the beast asks me in a deep, bold, voice.
For the second time in my life, I’m too appalled to speak. It’s just too much madness to take in at one time. I’m staring into the eyes of a talking black lion. He's so close I can feel the warmth from his breath. I open my mouth to speak but my words are trembling as they form on my tongue.
“I’ve heard of you… You are… You are…,” I try to speak and fail horribly.
The massive lion leans closer and finishes my sentence with these words,
“I am Mane.”
CHAPTER 20: BATTLE OF THE BEASTS