She's a Beast

Warning: Sexual References, Light Gore

Riley paddled down Silver River in Shadowhead. It was colder now since the day had transformed into night. A thick fog hung over the water. He stopped rowing for a moment and zipped up his jacket. In the distance, tree leaves rustled, and a branch snapped. 

"Hello?" Riley rowed toward the source of the noise.

His red canoe bit into a soft patch of earth, and he climbed out, turning on his flashlight. He searched the shore. In the mud were fresh footprints. Someone had been walking around barefoot, he thought. 

What chilled him even more was that they had used a stick to cover their tracks. Several of the footprints were impossibly elongated, with about a full twelve inches between toe and heel.

Riley made it back to his tent and his trusty truck. He considered leaving but decided against it. Instead, he made a bonfire and thought at least he could throw any intruder into the flames if they happened to stumble upon his camp.

The following day, he unzipped his tent and glanced around. The fire was still smoldering, and nothing seemed to have been disturbed.

"Hey there," a female voice said. 

He turned and saw a woman who appeared to be in her twenties (the same age as him) lying out, catching a tan in front of a massive tent on the other side of his truck.

"Sorry if I spooked ya," she laughed.

"Not at all; I didn't see you over there. When did you get in?"

"Oh, late last night. Real late. Or I guess you could say early this morning," she said, getting to her feet. "I'm Sheila." 

"Riley."

They shook hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Riley. I always try to use a person's name as soon as I hear it; it helps me to remember. So, Riley, do you come to Shadowhead a lot?"

"Every month or so. I love canoeing. There's no better spot to take in the views."

Sheila walked past him and glanced at his wooden canoe beside his tent. "That's an expensive one. I don't canoe or swim. I'm not a water person. But I do take photos." She grabbed a camera from the beach towel she had been lying on.

"That's quite a camera. What do you photograph?"

"Monsters," said Sheila with a laugh.

"No, seriously," Riley said, "birds, insects, trees?"

"Monsters," she repeated. "Bigfoots, river creatures, the chupacabra, ghosts—whatever's big at the time."

"You're joking."

"Come here." 

Riley followed her into her tent. It was much bigger inside than it appeared, full of monster dolls and movie posters (Dracula, Frankenstein, etc.). "This is my base of operations. I take this stuff with me to my hot zones."

"Hot zones?"

Sheila walked to a laptop in the corner of the tent. On-screen was footage from three different night vision cameras. "This first one here, see, it's over by that little stone bridge. And, of course, this is the cliffs. And here's where we're at now. See the river? I've got a clear shot."

"I wasn't aware there were any monster sightings in the area," Riley said, admiring Sheila in her bikini.

"Oh yeah, there are loads. Look at this; there have been at least three creepypastas about this place in the last year."

"Is that...good?"

"It's extraordinary. And that's why I'm here." Sheila opened a folder on her laptop and pointed at it. It was a picture of a boulder with strange symbols chiseled into it. "I found this just today when I was setting up. I was just about to translate it. Of course, since we have AI, it has become a lot easier. It used to take me several years to get translations. Now? It's a mere matter of minutes. Ah, see? This one is about emotional bonds."

"Bonds, huh? Well, I don't have to worry there. I'm a bit of a loner."

"Yeah, me too. I'm always afraid of revealing too much and getting rejected."

"You don't say."

"These symbols are about creating an unbreakable bond with someone. I wish I could find that."

Riley felt awkward. He had to say something to fill the void. "So it's like a witch thing, then—this rock?"

"No, it's older than that."

On and on, Sheila talked as Riley admired her form.

With the sun frying them inside the tent, he convinced her to go to the river a while later. But she refused to use his canoe. She didn't trust things that, in her words, could flip on you. Instead, they both jumped in and swam around for a while, cooling off in the water and enjoying each other's company.

Then, out of nowhere, she said, "We should skinny dip."

"I don't know."Riley was tempted but didn't want to seem overly eager.

"Okay then," Sheila said, "I'll go first." She dove out of sight. 

The next thing Riley knew, his shorts and undies had been torn off, and he was swimming naked in the water. 

Sheila surfaced, beat him to the shore by mere inches, and ran for camp. "If you want them, you'll have to come and get them!" she cried, waving them behind her like a flag.

Riley was furious when he returned to camp, but Sheila made it up to him in ways he had never imagined anyone could. Afterward, they sat by the fire, roasted marshmallows, and looked at the stars. 

As they went to sleep, Riley decided he liked Sheila but couldn't risk ruining their perfect day by continuing it any further. Relationships were never perfect. But dates - short, one-day flings like this, had the opportunity to be jewels that both would treasure forever. And he decided Sheila would be that for him.

Later, he might have to settle down and have something imperfect and flawed, but now, while he was still young, he could have this moment where they were both perfectly pleased.

So Riley grabbed his bag, rolled it up gently, dressed as quietly as possible, and slowly walked heel to toe to the tent exit when Sheila woke and noticed his absence.

 "Were you planning to leave?" Her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth twisted into a frown.

"I, uh," Riley tried to find the right words, "well, I, was, uh -

Then, there was a cracking sound and a tearing unlike anything he had heard before, and Sheila's body split open in the middle, growing longer and longer. Her fingers, too, were stretched to a sickening degree, with talons for nails. Her skin rippled as fur burst from every pore, and her roar shook him to the bone.

Riley ran as fast as he could toward his truck, but already the wolf was behind him, ripping limbs from trees and throwing his canoe across the woods like it weighed less than a dog toy. He threw open his truck door, slammed the key into the ignition, and zoomed off. Once he had gotten a safe distance away, he flipped on his cab light and saw the wolf was no longer behind him -- only a naked girl standing with her arms crossed, sobbing in the night.