The Life of a Beast

A couple of months ago I embarked on a new adventure by leaving the country of my birth for the first time and moving a couple of thousand miles north. I spend many months learning and preparing to ensure I could cope with the language barrier and cultural differences. The mother tongue is sharp, distinct, and beautiful and the food, well, the food is bizarre but flavoursome. Pickled fish - who would have thought it(?) And the pastries, so many pastries. I was going to like it here.

My house is a 30-minute walk from the village amenities, so its secluded enough to give me the solitude that I craved, without having to fully commit to hermitage.

The one thing I could not have foreseen was the presence of ‘The Beasts’. The natives personify the beasts; they name them and seem to know their habits and moods and quirks. They can predict their presence and even welcome them, despite the chaos and damage some of them cause. Having only read about them in the British newspapers, I perceived them as ravenous and unforgiving. They appear spiteful and taunting. “Why do the natives look upon them with such love, adoration, and awe?” I frequently wondered.

One day, a few weeks back, the village butcher warned me that a beast named ‘Ullr’ was due to arrive. I am told that the names come from ancient folklore. I was nervous, as this was the first beast that I would face. I decided to gather rations and hide away at home, hoping Ullr would simply pass me by. A trip to the village market was needed as I was low on comfort food, which I knew I would need to muffle my fear.

Coat on and list in hand, I set off. The air felt unusual; open and exposed, and I felt small and vulnerable. I pulled my coat tighter. I was frightened but focused on my goal to clear off my list and return to the safety of my home.

The general store was full. Bread and milk flew off the shelves as the customers grabbed them with remarkable speed and accuracy. I was lucky to spot the last dozen eggs, however, this coincided with the hopeful glance from an elderly man. We made an unspoken agreement to split the dozen. Well, I spoke, and he looked confused and slightly horrified as I no doubt butchered his language. I let him keep the box. Seeing the frenzy going on around the confectionary, I decided to abandon the marshmallows on my list and withdraw. So, balancing bread, milk, 6 loose eggs and a selection of variously twisted and knotted pastries (who I suspected may not all survive the entire journey home), I headed to the unsettlingly serene cashier.

Having obtained all my goods, I began the walk home. The path was a long, lonely one, with few streetlights and fewer neighbours to bump into. The light was low, a little too low for midday. With a mile to go, my nerves had subsided, and my pace slowed, soaking in my new homeland and confident I would not encounter Ullr after all.

After a few hundred yards, the world fell still, the birds went quiet and the light diminished quickly. Fear raised in me and I stopped, dead in my tracks. I could hear my heart pumping and felt the warmth of my blood being forced harder around my veins. I held my breath to help me hear better. A quiet whisper brushed the back of my neck, forcing all the tiny hairs to stand to attention. I looked around in silent panic and saw no one. Continuing forward, I set my sights harder on home.

Then I hit resistance and out of nowhere I saw him. Ullr came running at me, with blinding and paralysing force. I punched my way through him inch by inch, but he did not relent, he was huge and unyielding. Every step was hard and heavy, and my head was down in the hope of gaining speed.

His teeth bit at my face and hands, his hungry saliva soaking me through. He was everywhere, pulling at my coat and filling my shoes. For a moment, a new panic struck me and went away just as quickly when I remembered that my pastries were safe, as I had tied a knot in the top of my shopping bag. With new resolve, I tried to regain my composure as he threw sticks and leaves at me from all directions. “Why is he doing this to me?” I asked myself with pity.

I was not the only one affected by him, all sorts of indigenous wildlife ran and hid, the sky was nowhere to be seen and even the small stream that followed my path was petrified. This faceless monster was so big he seemed to be everywhere at once.

I reached my front door, grabbing my keys from my pocket. All ten of my fingertips were numb and blue. As the door unlocked, Ullr grabbed it and flung it open trying to get inside. I defended my castle, rushing in and slamming the door tight. Ullr rattled it from the outside as I bolted it behind me. With my back to the door I took a moment to catch my breath, I was frightened and in pain.

The fire cracked and popped in the hearth while the smoke raced up the chimney like a steam train running behind schedule. I imagine Ullr sucking on the chimney like an old man nonchalantly smoking his pipe. After soaking my aches and pains in the bathtub, I curled up in my favourite armchair in front of the fire with a mug of hot chocolate (sans marshmallows) and a modest number of pastries. I could still hear Ullr but felt safe and didn’t make it to bed that night.

When I woke, I saw a brilliant light streaming through the window and onto the dull grey ashes of the long dead fire. The absence of sound from outside suggested that the beast had left. There was calm, occasionally disturbed by the vigorous chirping of a small bird nearby, likely signalling a clear coast to his neighbours. Curious to inspect the damage that Ullr had inflicted during the night, I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and headed to my door.

Cautiously, I opened the bolt and eased the door open. He was still here. But I was not scared. He was asleep in my garden; I could not believe it. He looked so peaceful and beautiful. “How could this be the same creature I was tormented by last night?” I pondered. I gingerly reached down and felt his soft cold skin, which sparkled with a magical glow like diamonds.

I took a seat on my porch and watched him sleep. He did not snore or stir. As noon approached, I let the blanket fall from my shoulders, and the light stroked both mine and Ullr’s skin. I suddenly realised that Ullr had begun to look smaller and his sparkle had gone.

Within the hour, Ullr had gone and returned to the heavens. I mourned him and the peace he had given me that morning. I began to wonder if I had misunderstood him last night. Did I mistake excitement for unyielding? Did I mistake relentlessness with the energy of youth? In his old age he was calm and silent, generously offering up his magic until he slowly faded away and I hope for his reincarnation.    

I hear another ‘beast’ is due next week called ‘Ymir’, I may watch him from inside the house this time.