Rapscallion's Final Lesson
by Damien Hunt

Consciousness did not come upon him as it did normally. Instead of a gradual slide out of the immeasurable depths of a slumbering corpse, the awakening was abrupt and harsh. A reddishness, like a haze, clouded his vision and only half aware of his actions or surroundings, the monstrosity known as Rapscallion pulled his freakishly skinny frame into a strange “bundle of stick” like crouch. Motionlessness did not suit the feral creature who had risen this night and with a stretch of naked reptilian limbs did the creature raise its head into the air and breath deep of the night’s scents. The crimson haze continued to cling to his vision, with it was a fierce hunger, persistent like no other night and enraged by its own deplorable want for warm flesh and fresh blood. Only a moment more was given over to hesitation, somewhere deep within the hunched creature a battle of will was fought and lost to the hollow hunger and the beast began to hunt.

Only later would the details of his surroundings come to mind, the basement of some suburbanite dwelling. The first morsel was an offering, the wrangled bulk of the family hound left ripe with scarcely cooling blood upon the basement floor. The red haze grew thick as Rapscallion embraced the corpse, took in the full ambrosia of the pitiful animal and left nothing left upon the cement but an empty husk and fresh splatters of crimson. From once human lips came the mangled roar of need. Deep, guttural and choked in disgust and rage at such a pathetic feeding. With a toss, the ragged dog crashed through a pile of boxes, spilling family photo albums across the floor with dead meat.

Above, two levels of humble confusion had just began amongst the family and their house guests. Children, awakened by the howl of the hunt, began crying for parents. Parents, chuckling nervously, quickly moved to quiet kids and milled about the house in search for their faithful pet. Each one’s heart beat rippled through the crimson haze in his black eyes, leading Rapscallion quickly to the fountain of life at their throats. One by one they fell, some in screams of horror and panic, some silently and some to the tears of loved ones watching in frozen terror or disbelief.

He rose slowly, stepped carefully through the tangle of mangled limbs of children and mother still with death and flicked on the bathroom light. Naked, blood soaked scales sheathed around freakishly lanky limbs stood looking back at him from the mirror. Black eyes turned slowly to pale blue watered with red tears that slowly pooled and spilled thickly down his smooth reptilian cheeks. A moment and the mirror was shattered by fists clenched in rage and despair. And guilt, endless pools of guilt.

“It... it wasn’t my fault,” his deep voice echoed in the silence of this house of dead despite his pained whisper, “I am not...”

Sirens rapidly approaching stirred him into action. He avoided pale, glazed, haunting and accusing eyes as he carefully swept past his prey, but paused half way down the stairwell. Painted freshly across smooth hazel white finished walls in streaks of still scarlet blood was a message. As red and blues began flashing outside, Rapscallion sat roughly down upon the plush carpeted stairs and starred at the message, alone in the night.

you ARE a monster

0.1.2