Inhuman Beasts

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September 8
I’m not sure exactly what happened. We had a kind of connection, you know; like when you meet someone for the first time, but feel like you’ve known them your whole life. Like there was this primitive calling from a long time ago that comes back to haunt you, or something like that. I don’t know how to explain it. But here’s what happened.
I was sitting in class listening to the teacher drone on about the Pythagorean Theorem when he walked in. The room went into a bout of silence, which lasted until the teacher introduced the boy as Roman Davis.
Roman had hair as black as midnight and dark brown eyes. He sported a green polo shirt, which showed off his muscles, and blue jeans with a backpack that hung over his left shoulder. He turned his soulful eyes around the room, glaring at everyone with such intensity, it scared me. When his gaze landed on me, it was as if there was this deep connection, like I’d known him for a long time but had just forgotten. I had the pleasure of seeing his eyes widen slightly as I realized he felt the same.
“You can go sit beside Breonna,” the teacher said. He had barely raised his hand to point me out, when Roman plopped down beside me. Seeing as there were three other empty seats in the classroom, I don’t know how he knew to sit by me.
When he’d walked by, I’d felt an air of, I don’t know, authority or power radiating off him. He gave off electricity, like he’d just been charged and was getting ready to start the party. The energy crackled through the air, sending shock waves through me. It didn’t hurt, no. In fact, it felt good; like I’d been cold for a long time and this was the only thing that could keep me warm. I decided right then and there that I liked him, wanted him. I didn’t know, of course, that by making this fatal decision, my world would completely rearrange itself. I didn’t know that I would become a high school dropout and risk my life just to rid the world of them. But I wouldn’t find out these things until it was too late.
Any way, when he sat down, he somehow managed to still look at me even though he wasn’t actually looking at me. Confused? Okay, good. I’m not sure how I was able to get through class, because all I felt like doing was throwing myself in his arms like some little tramp.
As soon as the bell rang, I grabbed my things and practically ran out the door, shoving past the students in the hall who smelled of sweat and cheap cologne. I went to my locker where I found Virginia Wolfe, my best friend in the whole wide world since the fifth grade, waiting for me. As soon as she spotted me, she started to speak loud and fast. You have to be used to her to even understand a word she was saying.
            “Did you hear? Apparently there’s this hot, new guy in Spaniard’s room! Roman or something like that, but Breonna, we haven’t had a new kid since, like, the ninth grade. Do you know what this means? I could become the future Mrs. Roman, uh, whatever his last name is.” Virginia went on like this so I tuned her out. When she gave her hair a flip, jealousy ignited within me. You see the thing is Virginia had hair like a Goddess. It was hip-length and a shiny black that you could notice even in dim lighting. It had volume. Spunk, my mom called it.
            I let her talk for few moments while I got my things out. Science things; like we were ever going to need the stuff. I told Virginia goodbye and set out for class, which was on the furthest corner of the school. Oakville High, home of the Hornets.
            When I got to class, a second before the bell rang, who would be sitting in the desk beside mine except for the new guy. That’s right, Roman. As soon as I sat down, I could feel the immense weight of his gaze burning my cheek, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking, though I doubt it would have mattered. After thinking many dirty things, again, I left for lunch. I had a fleeting moment of thought were I went straight to where he sat alone, eating a turkey sandwich, and sitting with him, maybe make some small talk. Of course none of that happened. The rest of school was fast. Roman wasn’t in any of my other classes, but my rampant fantasies kept me occupied.

The air here smell's nice, fresh, untainted by the pollution that was going around in other places. My town was big on recycling, that is everywhere except the alley’s. I was walking home after school, seeing as I had no car, enjoying the late afternoon sun. The trees bared apples and beautiful plants flowered people’s yards. The grass was that perfect I'm–still–alive–but–will–soon–die color.
            At the intersection, I had the choice of walking all the way to my house, ten streets over, or taking the abandoned alleyways, in which case I would exist with only two streets left. I know I shouldn’t have done it, taken those alleyways, but I felt like doing something reckless, throwing caution to the wind.
            I turned right and soon came upon the alley. I saw garbage rolling around like money on the gravel. I took a deep breath then walked on. The sign of old buildings was impossible to miss. You could see the paint peeling and the wood nailed unto some of the building’s rotting. Why this place wasn’t fixed, I don’t know. I stepped in a puddle of unidentifiable liquid, making a small splash.
I had gone about a third of the when I heard something. I twirled around but there was nothing there. Getting a bad omen, I picked up my pace.
There it was again, that soft almost impossible to hear noise. I twirled around again and saw a shadow, sidling up behind a building. Grabbing my book bag in my hand, I lifted it up as a weapon and approached the building. I was scared out of my mind, but you know what they say, ‘Curiosity Killed the Cat’. I kept on walking; each step sounding like a hurricane compared to my stalkers steps. As soon as I was behind the building, I was swallowed up in darkness. Don’t get me wrong, there was light behind me and all, but in front of me, it was like the sun decided to take a nap.
            “Who’s there?” I called out. I was answered with silence. Fear boiled and bubbled in my stomach. My heart rate picked up and my breathing hiked. “Who’s th—?”
            A hand covered my mouth, yanking me back into darkness. I was so surprised by the sudden grab that I lost my grip on my backpack. I stumbled backwards, hitting something hard with my head. I squirmed and squirmed, trying to kick out in any direction, hoping it made contact. When I heard a soft grunt, I realized that I did. Finally, my brain seemed to wake up, and I had the sense to scream. It was muffled, seeing as my mouth was covered by a hand, but the scream was still loud. Anyone who was close to the alley was bound to hear something.
            “Shh! Shut up!” a voice commanded in my ear. The sound felt familiar, but I knew I’d never heard it before.
            I kept right on screaming.
            “Shut up or they’ll hear you!” the person hissed. I didn’t believe them. I felt they wanted to harm me. I sucked in the much needed air through my nose, and prepared to scream again. I was still kicking; but I froze when I heard a soft, soft sound. It was so faint I almost didn’t hear it. The person holding me stiffened, cursing in my ear.
            “If you know what’s good for you, don’t make a sound and don’t follow me,” they warned. Letting me go, I stumbled backwards and hit my head on the wall. A small flash a pain sparked through me, but quickly went away when I heard signs of struggle.
            I peered out into what small patch of light there was and saw them. It was my first sighting; at first I thought they were normal like you and me, but then I started to notice little signs. How they barely made a noise when they moved, how they were all tall and striking, and how a little tattoo-like thing flashed in and out on the corner of their right temple. It was small, maybe three or four centimeters.
            The guy that grabbed at me was turned around. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and pants combo. He swung out with his fist connecting to one of those things jaw. It gave an inhuman shriek, low but still incredibly high pitched. It rocked on its heel, then got right back up and balled up his hand, punching my captor in the stomach, and then scratching him on the side of the face. He barely even let out a grunt or a hiss of pain. He only kept going, hitting, punching, doing anything he could to catch them off balance. But they kept regaining their balance almost as soon as they lost it; after a while, they started to anticipate his moves. He seemed to expect this; he came out with a roundhouse kick worthy of a ninja, knocking on of them to the ground. The others caught by surprise, turned to see their fallen partner. He took the opportunity to yank something from his pocket. A small glass bottle filled with this blue, foaming liquid. He quickly popped the cap and threw it at the group right as they turned around.
            More inhuman screeches. Because of the perfect unison, the sound was like fingernails against a chalkboard but louder. I couldn’t take it; I brought my hands up and covered my ears, but it didn’t help. Like water, it seeped through the cracks in my hand, threatening to burst my eardrums.
            The inhuman's, clawed at their faces, shaking. One by one they fell to the ground without even a thud. It was like the sound of clothing dropping on the ground. My captor drew something else from his pocket. A small stake-like object. It was thin at the bottom, getting thicker as it made its way up. His had gripped tightly the thick end of the object, then aiming with precise accuracy, he quickly pierced each one of the inhuman over there heart's. Lie you do with vampires.
            It was like something was being shredded apart, like Satan himself decided to help you on your journey to the Otherworld. The inhuman scattered to dust; they literally turned to dust and were scattered to the four winds.
            My captor turned around, his face shadowed by the receding sun. “Are you okay?” he asked. I was too surprised, frozen, deadlocked, as a matter of fact, I was too a lot of things to speak. Breathing hard, he came toward me, hands raised in the air like surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I only wanted to help.” I was still too mystified to speak. He reached out his hand, and then pulling on my arm, brought me out of the dark. I looked to the ground where those things had disappeared. There was nothing there, no sign that a fight had just broken out. I turned to my captor, what I saw bringing me up short.
            The guy, who stood in front of me, looked on with concern. He had a small, thin gash on the side of his face, which bled like crazy. He didn’t seem to notice it though. What brought me up short, was the fact that the guy standing in front of me, holding on to my arm, was in fact, (you guessed it), Roman. The new guy, the one I had fantasized about. I sucked in a breath and screamed. He sighed and tried to shush me, to no avail. Seeing he had no other choice, he let me go, in which case I started runningg like hell itself was after me. I ran and ran and ran, until my house came into view. It was pitch-black now, and I saw my mother’s form shadowed in the window. I hurried to the door and threw it open, slamming it shut behind me.
            “Breonna?” my mom called. She ran into the hallway and found me slumped against the door. “Oh, God. Breonna, where the hell have you been?” I was still too shaky to answer. “You were supposed to be home hours ago. Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” She pulled me in a motherly hug and rumpled my hair. Usually when she did that, I hugged her back and thanked her, but I guess she could tell something was wrong by my silence. She sent me up to bed and told me that if I ever came home this late again, I would regret it.
            I rushed to my room and crawled into bed, clothes still on. It took me a long time to fall asleep, and even then, I awoke at the slightest noise. I dreamed that Roman and I were together, slaying those inhuman beasts. That I was like an avenging Goddess and Roman was my avenging God.





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