Someone's Monster

Malachi faced a brick wall of the dead end alley and whimpered. Not the quiet escape he’d hoped for. As deadends went, it’s graffiti was a poetic, stuffed between a large vein riddled penis and an oblong feminine face with razor teeth in red, green, and white.

The REAL thinking begins here

This is the End. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

We are entwined in a pathless dance. Who plays the tune? Who leads?

Behind him approached the stranger who’d hounded his steps for blocks. “Would you look at that?” the man said, chain wrapped bat rattling along the ground. Malachi tried to slow his racing heart.

More people congealed from the shadows behind him like walking clots. Malachi turned to them, large leather coat swaying on his thin frame. He raised his open hands. His throat clicked when he swallowed.

The stranger with the bat stood bathed by jaundiced light in acid washed jeans and a similar leather jacket with dangling chains. A flaming three headed dog patch adorned the place over his heart. “You’ve made some wrong choices today, friend.” Shoulder length hair shimmered in the dim light of the alley. “Introductions then: They call me Chains.” He propped the bat on one shoulder and spun on his heel. The many chains dangling from his pockets and coat spun and glittered. “Proud papa of the Helldogs.”

“I don’t want trouble,” Malachi said.

“Trouble?” Chains laughed, his gloved hand creaking on the handle of the bat. “We’re past trouble, don’t you think?” His eyes dropped to Malachi’s coat. “Seeing as we share a sense of fashion. But I don’t know you.”

Malachi followed the man’s gaze. To the matching dog patch on the breast of his coat. “Fuck. It was an accident.”

“Accident?” Chains said. The group laughed. “Now, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Dozer. He had uh…cuntish tendencies. Had the vocabulary of a brain damaged child and the aggression of a three-nut boar with a splinter in its dick. But he was ours. And we,” he gestured at the gathered mass. “Are a family with an understanding. We protect our own.”

Malachi looked at each of them. All wore patched leather though many were modified. Some without sleeves, others high collared, most vests. “Y-you can have it back.”

A sly smile cut Chains’ face, a glee at impending violence shining through. “Well thank you.” Chain’s laugh was slow and exaggerated.

Sweat rolled down Malachi’s forehead as he peeled the coat off. “I didn’t know he had such a devout family. I would have let it pass.”

“Im gonna stop you right there.” The bat struck concrete to emphasize the last two words. “If Dozer did somethin, broke some rule, looked at the wrong person cross eyed or pissed in a families milk, well, that would be unfortunate but it would be for us to punish him.” All the joviality bled from his face. “Not. You.”

Malachi held the coat out. Blood darkned patches of the baggy green shirt underneath, sticking to his wiry frame. Long arms with sharp elbows extended from the short sleeves.

Chains sauntered forward and stuck the bat out. Malachi hung the coat on it, stubbed spikes catching the yellowed lights of the surrounding buildings. A few silhouettes peaked from behind curtains above. No one would call the police. If they did, none would show till morning.

With a frown, Chains sized up Malachi. “I finally understand where the phrase rail thin comes from.” He pivoted the bat till the jacket dangled behind him. The biggest woman Malachi had ever seen stepped from the shadows, all muscle and menace, with a vest straining against her broad, muscular shoulders. A foot high mohawk added to her impressive height. She took the coat and slung it over her shoulder. Chains saw Malachi’s eyes widen. “That’s Fangs. She’s with me. Grow em big in the city.”

“Not the city,” Malachi said. “It’s The Pits,” Malachi said.

“The pits?” Chains’ smile faltered. “Don’t insult her. She’s got a mean streak.”

“No,” Malachi said, tilting his head to stare at the night sky above. “This place. It used to be called The Pits. An old empire dug a hole. Threw their their criminals in and gave them a choice: fight and earn freedom, or cower and serve.”

“My my Malachi.” Chains laughed. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Got a bit of a brain in that mishapen head of yours.”

“I like history. Not a lot to do growing up except read.” He was sad. There was too much light pollution for stars. Too much regular polution for clear skies. “The Pit wasn’t just a hole. The land is sturdy. Holds its shape. Tunnels hold. Buildings do not sink.”

“Fascinating.” Chains began stalking around Malachi with slow, deliberate steps, bat resting on his shoulder. He slowed down when he was behind the thin man.

Malachi swallowed, trying not to shake. “Pits and tunnels sealed. Guarded. Criminals tossed in the arena at night. Left on their own. A whole second city bloomed underground, run by the worst of the worst and the best of the worst. More death in the tunnels than in the arena. No census taken, so supplies were always scarce. The Empire above didn’t care what was happening below. Didn’t understand that kind of hunger and thirst, that intensity of violence. That level of survival.”

Standing behind Malachi, Chains gripped the bat in both hands. “Survival. Yeah. We know a bit about that.” He squinted one eye closed, lining it up with the skinny man’s head. “Sometimes its about setting an example. Sending a message.” He drew back.

Malachi closed his eyes.

Chains swung.

The bat missed by a centimeter. Malachi gasped, hair tossled by the weapon.

The onlookers laughed. Smiling, Chains rested the bat to his shoulder and resumed the slow stalking circle around his prey.

Malachi cleared his throat. “Any attempts to dig an escape was met with rivers of boiling oil and torches. Sealed the tunnels shut like a flesh wound. So they dug down.”

“Fascinating. But irrelevant.”

“Its not. Generations passed in The Pit. People were the only constant resource. They ate each other. Made furniture from their pieces. As decoration. As cattle. They grew bigger. Stronger. More violent.”

Fangs spat on the ground. “Damn right.” Several of the onlookers fist bumped and grinned.

“Cannibalism was the standard. Arena fighters lived like royalty. But fighters that had never been above ground began to show. Pale and huge. Vicious, with sharpened teeth. Covered in hair like fur or void of hair altogether. Fighting with strange weapons or none at all. The Empire called them Vrykolans. Lycoan. Rumors spread that The Pit bred monsters.”

“Monsters,” Chains said, turning his smile on the onlookers. “Aint we all.”

Malachi took a deep breath. “Maybe they were right. There’s something wrong with this place. Paths that don’t make sense.” He turned to the dead end and its graffiti. “Alleys that go nowhere. Did you know there’s only four ways in or out of the city? Four. Roads that intersect in an X.”

“X marks the spot.” Chains stopped in front of Malachi, rested the tip of the bat against Malachi’s chest, twisting it to bunch the shirt.

“Jump to now. The empire long forgotten. Modernization takes over. When people started disappearing, it was rumors. When mutilated bodies were found, it became myth. People stopped coming to watch the Arena. Started throwing food and animals into The Pit as offerings. To appease the monsters. Then they started dropping in their dead. By the time they used live sacrifices, the Empire had already collapsed.”

Chains had stopped smiling. Malachi hadn’t seen it disappear. The gang leader didn’t look upset. His expression was blank. Stoic. Shadows covered his eyes. He was still as ice.

“When the modern world found this place again, they just…sealed it up. Didn’t explore the tunnels, just filled everything with stone, dirt, and concrete. Built a city on top. But those secret places the monsters had escaped from were till there: hidden and open.”

Chains kept the bat steady. It didn’t waver or shake. Malachi’s eyes traced up the bat. The mirror gleam was tarnished green near the wrapped leather of the handle. He cocked his head.

“People tell stories now. That the city was built on top of a hellgate. That creatures roam the streets eating children. Monsters and creatures. Always separate. The young and the old have been saying that the two fight sometimes at night. Creatures roaming in packs. Monsters in families.”

“Sounders,” Chains said.

Malachi met his eyes.

With a smile, Chains continued “They say monsters travel in sounders. Like families of feral pigs.” His lips twitched in a smirk. There and gone.

Malachi sneered. “Ugly word.”

“Appropriate.” Chains lifted the bat to an away inch from Malachi’s nose. “Good thing its all just kids stories.”

Malachi wrapped his thin arms over his midsection. “Nothing is ever that clear cut.”

“No. I suppose it isn’t.”

Chains thrust the bat forward. Fast. Malachi managed to twitch his head so it missed by centimeters. But the gang leader pressed it to the skinny man’s cheek. Malachi hissed and jerked away as the skin sizzled, a streak of reddened skin left behind

Chuckling, Chains sauntered backwards, never turning away. “Dipped this beauty in silver. Chain and all. Its a good deterrent for the uh, spooky things that stalk the night.”

Malachi took deep, uneven breaths, long arms stretching out as he pressed back into the brick.

“Pack,” Chains said. “That’s also appropriate.” He gave the exaggerated, intentional laugh. With each step away, the shadows slid over his face. His eyes shone yellow. More feral eyes glowed from the dark. The visible grins had become sharp and hungry.

Malachi tried to sink into the brick. Sweat shone on his sallow skin. “You hunt each other as much as you hunt everything else?”

“Every pack has hierarchy. And we don’t all get along. But the Helldogs? We’re the biggest. The meanest. We own this town, so we keep it safe.”

“Im not threat.”

Fangs spat. “Says the man walking around in our dead brother’s coat.”

When Chains grinned, his teeth had sharpened and stretched, incisors poking over his bottom lip.

“Vrykol,” Malachi hissed.

“Kind of.” Chains spun the bat at his side, sauntering closer and closer. The large woman was beside him, her features more bestial, but eyes just as yellow. “Bit of Lycoan in there. The rest of em are purebred Lycs. But I tell ya, you are the strangest thing we’ve cornered in a minute. Almost didn’t find you. Almost. But my girl here,” he gestured at Fangs. “Has got the best nose in the city.”

Grinning, she tapped her bulbous nose.

Malachi’s eyes fluttered as his heart galloped. “You have less fur than I thought.”

“Translation error,” Chains grinned. “They come in allllll types. What bout you? Interested in how you hid your stink.”

“You don’t want to eat me.”

“Not about want.”

“My meat won’t sit well in you.”

Chains went blank again. The large woman continued a few steps. He barred her way with the bat. She turned to him, confused. “Suppose we just bash your head in then.”

“It won’t. Take.” Malachi pressed his hands against the wall, hyperventilating. His limbs were longer, the skin stretched taught over knobby joints.

Chains pushed the woman back behind him, careful not to touch her skin with the bat. He stepped closer and pushed the it against Malachi’s exposed stomach. The skinny man groaned as the skin sizzled beneat it.

“Whats wrong?” The woman asked, her voice deep and gutteral. “It hurts him. Thats enough.” The other onlookers had closed in, but no longer smiled or laughed.

When Chains replied, his voice was soft. “It irritates him. Like a sunburn. But it’s not melting the skin.”

She took a step back on her own.

Chains planted top of the bat on the ground and put both hands on the bottom. He leaned close. “You something new? Something old? Little of both?”

Malachi continued to pant. Beneath the taught skin the odd, bulbous shape of his joints was more pronounced. The length of his arms was too long. From shoulder and elbow and elbow to wrist. The arms were ape-like compared to his body. “I don’t. Want. To fight.” His fingers elongated, creaking like a stretched rubber hose. “But. I. Will.”

The large woman growled. Bared her claws. Crouched. Tensed. Ready to lunge. Her mohawk flayed as her hackles rose, adding height.

Chains looked back and forth between them. Stepped back. Stepped up to a thick dumpster. He wound up the bat and swung as hard as he could.

CLANG

It reverberated through the alley. Curtains were drawn closed as silhouettes vanished and lights went out. Fangs and Malachi both jumped. He leveled the bat at his mate.

“Let me handle this.” He lowered the bat. “Please.”

“Why?” She growled.

“I don’t want more of our family to die.” He turned his gaze on Malachi. “And I think a fair few of us will if we pick this fight.” Chains stared at the skinny man, lips pressed into a thin line. He sighed, before bellowing behind him. “Get back! Stay close but give us space. If he tries to leave, let him. We’re not picking this fight.”

They were shocked. Many grumbled. Some took a few steps forward anyway. Chains struck the dumpster again-

CLANG

-and growled. It wasn’t as deep as his mates, but it was higher pitched. Stranger. Nearly a shriek. Their advance stopped. Reversed. The glowing eyes vanished set by set. Fangs stayed where she was, ready to pounce. The intensity in Chains’ eyes softened on her before he turned to Malachi and let the bat rest on the ground.

“So. You imply you can’t die. Maybe you can’t. Doesn’t mean we can’t rip you apart and bury the pieces far away from each other.”

Malachi’s eyes widened and he began to shake. “I don’t understand.”

Chains smiled, but it was empty of the previous arrogance. “Now that is the most important thing you’ve admitted to. Because to be honest? I don’t understand either. I think this is the most honest you’ve been. Up here.” He leaned over to gaze up into Malachi’s face. “Because you are from below.” He tapped the bat on the ground.

Malachi kept his hands pressed against the bricks and nodded.

“Thought so. Flesh eater? Memory drinker? You got a bit Lamia to your shape. Aint seen one of those in a dog’s age.” Chains laughed. “But they got a stink you can follow across the whole city. You ? Almost no stink at all. No pack scent. No grave scent.” He stepped closer.

A rattle emanated from Malachi’s throat as his claws scored the brick. Chains slowed but did not stop, raising his hands. “Don’t want to fight. Not anymore”

Malachi let him approach.

“You don’t know what you are.” Not a question but Malachi nodded, looking down and away. “Hey.” Chains drew his eyes back up. “Never look away. The rest of the world will hate and shame you for what you are, it doesn’t need your help. It doesn’t deserve it.”

“But Im a monster.”

Chains gripped his shoulder. “Kid, everyone’s a monster to someone. But you didn’t rise from the dark all hungry and mad and start eating people, did you?”

Malachi looked away again, tears welling in his eyes. “I tried not to.”

“Then some asshole came and pushed you, didn’t he?”

“Im sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have no scent. Dozer couldn’t have known. And you’re brand new to this world, so neither could you. It’s a shitty situation.”

Listening, Fangs had relaxed and moved to stand behind Chains. She towered over him. “What is he?”

“I don’t think he knows, love.”

“Didn’t his family teach him?”

“You got a family, kid?”

Malachi remembered being small in the dark, navigating by sense and vague outlines. “I’ve always been alone. Since I was little.”

“And you survived?” Her voice was full of awe. “Below?”

Malachi whimpered. Nodded. He didn’t like thinking about it.

“Tough kid. You want a family?”

He didn’t know how to respond.

Chains snapped his fingers and held out a hand without looking away. Fangs smiled and passed over the blood stained leather jacket. The leader held it out to Malachi. “We can be your family. We’ll protect you. Teach you and learn what you can do.”

With shaking hands, Malachi reached out and took the jacket. He held it out, afraid to do more.

“You got a name, kid?”

“M…Malachi.” Malachis eyes shone with unshed tears as he grinned. It split his face from ear to ear, revealing rows of sharp, shark like teeth as he put the jacket on.

Chains and his mate sneered. “Thats an alright but it aint no pack name.” Chains sucked on his teeth and looked the boy up and down. Staring at the wide mouth and the deep gouges in the brick. “I got it.” He leaned back. Fangs bent forward and whispered into his mates ear. She grinned.

“You’re one of us now. We’re a badass pack so you need a badass name.” He straightened the jacket on Malachi’s frame. It’d have to be adjusted.” From now on, we’ll call you Saturn.” He slapped the skinny man’s thin shoulders, feeling bones like rebar.

Feeling at home for the first time in his life, Saturn stood to his full height. Taller than fangs, but thinner. “I like it.”

“Well alright then,” Chains said. “Welcome to the Helldogs.”

Their howl rattled the windows overlooking the alley.