Human: The Story of the Beast

'Go away, go away, go away, go away." She whispers over and over again.

The floorboards beneath the attic creak as the beast moves away. Doubt makes her move closer to peek through the attic floor. Darkness blocks her view. Every light in the house has been extinguished. Every sound has been muted. Tracey crawls, inch by inch to the trapdoor in the center of the attic. She glances at it, nervously biting her lip as she contemplates descending the stairs. She gazes around the attic, searching for a flashlight or an old lamp. Finding neither she crawls to the door and lifts it making an audible creaking sound. The stairs land with a loud thump and she races down them with all the speed she acquired running track at school. She enters the living room, feeling her way through every inch of it. Suddenly the hair stands up on the back of her neck and her breathing intensifies.

A low growl reaches her ears. It's coming from the darkest corner of the room. In the suffocating blackness Tracey's eyes detect the faint shape of an animal. Another growl and then a pair of red eyes glare at her, chilling her to the bone. The room suddenly seems smaller. The thought that rushes to the surface of her mind is to try and talk to the beast. Maybe her mother's soul still resides within it. She flings that idea aside as the beast lunges.

KISH! Her mother's lamp falls and breaks as she backs into it. In the next few seconds the beast is at her throat as she struggles to get up. It growls at her, baring its teeth, dripping saliva on her cheek. Then it screams in outrage and agony as a shot bursts into its flesh. Every light in the lower level of the house comes on. The beast slashes her arm and then dives out the living room window.

The men surround her, surveying the damage done to her and the house. They stare at her, whispering and shaking their heads.

"What do we do with her?" A man in an army uniform asks

"I don't know, but I sure as hell ain't trying to preserve her life." Another man speaks as he walks in, lighting his cigarette.

Why not? Isn't there a cure? Some kind of plant maybe? Or-or a facility we can keep her in? To run some tests." A man in a white robe pleads.

"You scientists and your tests. Let's just kill her and get it over with. She was scratched by a werewolf for crying out loud!" The man with the cigarette puffs on it twice and then grounds the remains under his boots.

"But she's human!" The scientist protests as Tracey moans and writhes in agony, blood gushing form the gash on her arm. "Can't we at least fix her arm? Give her a shot or two of something to keep the beast within her at bay and keep her locked temporarily in Area 27? Don't let her die like this! It's-It's inhumane!"

"She's not human. Area 27 isn't a storage facility. We have better things to do, so if you gents are too feminine to shoot her then I will. Thomas, hand me my shotgun. It's time she took a little nap...forever." He cocks the gun, preparing to squeeze the trigger, but it's knocked from his hand.

"WHAT THE HELL?!--"

The man in the uniform smirks "We all know you like killing, but this is bigger than assasination attempts. This is a mission gone wrong. We need to ask the General what to do. If--and only if-- he gives us the greenlight, then we kill her."

He pulls out his phone. "Hello, Gekko? Yes, put the general on. Yeah I know I don't have the authorization nor the clearance to speak to him directly but this is life and death. It's serious. I'll tell you who I do out rank, you! Now get him!"

Tracey's arm begins to grow hairy, deformed and she begins to scream. The scientist acts on impulse and rushes to her side. "Hold her down. Don't argue with me. I have some wolfsbane on me and it might temporarily stop the transformation. To buy us some time."