Run & Hide by Beatrix Hollow

21

Idragged the man down before pulling him close. My arms tightly entwined around his body in a murderous embrace. Plump panicked eyes darted erratically, frantically searching for some way to cheat death. I slid my hand around his throat and felt the weak fluttering of his pulse against my fingertips.

I’d never felt anger like I did now. A consuming rage boiled under my skin, burning out my ability to think straight. Those motherfuckers had her. There was a pungent sour taste on my tongue that couldn’t be washed out. Even my hands were trembling.

I curled my fingers into the man's neck and my thin talons sank into his flesh with the resistance of warm cheesecake. A pale, gooey cheese that pissed out its red raspberry filling. He jerked and bubbles of air exploded from his mouth, trailing up towards the surface.

He inhaled in panic. I could almost hear the sloshing sound of water suctioned into his lungs. He coughed, hacked, writhed, and inhaled more water as he thrashed in my hold. He was anchored in my grip though, his ending already written. I looked on in delight to see him struggle.

Even with water splashing into his lungs, it was still me he was most panicked about. Some reptilian part of his brain was screaming he had to run from the beast that had come to eat him. That if he could just get away from the monster, then he could survive anything else. I smiled wide. Sharp, thin teeth were packed tightly in my mouth. My tongue ran over the brutal tips, showing off.

His eyes bulged again, his pupils enlarging. He gave one last good attempt to kick me off while he drowned but the effort was wasted—a quick burn of oxygen that tapped an exhausted blood supply as life faded. Red rivers floated from the wounds on his neck like smoke tendrils in the air. His body began to jerk unnaturally and then abruptly stilled, his arms floating out to the sides, his eyes lifelessly locked onto my teeth in terror.

His death could only give me a fleeting sense of satisfaction. I liked killing him but there was no time to linger on that fact when Ava still needed me.

I’d done what I could to be the man Ava could want. But a man, I was not. I presented to her a facade so that I could offer her comfort instead of fear.

She was my soul, my heart, my purpose. My calm water.

Now I would rip the blinds from her eyes and show her the beast that lurked behind them. There was no going back after this.

I swam to the edge of the river, my body slowly emerging from dark water as I grew closer to the shore. My water-grass hair was a mess, hanging down into my face and haphazard atop my head. My skin was pale, blue-tinted and thick, made to withstand colder temperatures.

My hands and feet were webbed and tipped with talons. Gills prominently decorated both sides of my neck. My teeth were razor-sharp, made for ripping into a raw fish diet. My mouth could open wide, the jaw unhinging so I could swallow things whole.

Ava would look at me in terror. The bony protruding fins on my forearms and spine, the thick pupils, and the enlarged eyes were all inhuman. Yes, Ava would be scared but those men would be too. They’d bleat like goats.

I’d save Ava by whatever means I had. Even if it murdered the chance to have her love me.

I moved through the trees, animals scampered away in fear. The group had taken off, wild with fright from something they never expected. What a joke. These people were supposed to be hunting a monster. Seems they’d never expected one quite like me to come knocking.

Something caught my eye, an old axe leaning against the tree off the trail. Considering how often these men must have paraded around these woods it wasn’t surprising. The wooden handle had thin cracked lines through it. When my fingers wrapped around the wood it still felt sturdy. I tugged it up, bringing it along.

* * *

Loren’sthick fingers bruised my arm. Every time I lost my footing it pulled at the strained muscle in my shoulder.

“What the fuck was that,” someone panted as the group moved at a clipped pace. Brandon, who was still being pulled along, looked at me with freaked-out eyes. There was a questioning look, him wondering if I had known. I swallowed and looked back down at my feet, trying not to trip as we went uphill. Grady was still with us too, grimacing and quiet. His movements were sluggish, his eyes somewhat vacant.

“It was a beast just like the one we hunt. It wants her too,” Loren said, giving my arm a squeeze. “We’ll get it and Mothman,” he huffed in disbelief and delight. We moved uphill, towards the New River Gorge Bridge looming darkly above us.

It had been the longest steel, arched bridge in the world for decades on end until recently. It stretched out over the river, the moon glinting off the metal. It disappeared into darkness, going beyond where I could see. A great big beast of modern metal.

We moved onto the wide paved road of the bridge. My feet glued to the spot as I saw a group of trucks parked against the side. I just knew it was these men’s vehicles. You weren’t supposed to get in the vehicle of kidnappers. It dramatically lowered your chances of ever making it home alive.

Loren jerked my arm and I cried out in pain as my shoulder was strained once more. I felt him tense, my loud sounds not sitting well with him. Despite his calm facade, he was on edge from the river. I could see that now. He didn’t look as confident as before.

He let go of me, pulled the rifle from around his back, and aimed it at the back of Grady’s head. Grady had no idea. He was walking towards the trucks just like his captor encouraged him. The gun fired off and I tried to scream but my ragged throat only coughed out a pathetic rasp. I heard Grady’s body thump as it fell down. His glasses skittered to the very edge of the bridge before falling off, sailing down towards the river.

“The hell!” The man who had been standing near Grady said, looking pissed off while he rubbed his ear.

Loren turned his gun towards Brandon, whose eyes widened.

“Wait!” He yelled out.

“Are you human?” Loren asked.

“Yes!” Brandon gasped, his eyes spinning around the group.

“And your buddy down there,” Loren said, jerking his gun in the direction of the water. “What is he?”

“I don’t know. God, I don’t know,” Brandon said, his voice a fast-paced lurch. I didn’t want to watch. My nerves were frayed, expecting to hear another gunshot any second.

“I swear!” He blurted out frantically. “I didn’t know. I thought he was just an asshole not the fucking Swamp Thing.” Movement in the forest behind us had every person spinning around. Loren swung his gun around on his back, putting it out of commission.

“Tranqs,” he barked out and the men nodded.

My eyes searched the trees. My breath came too fast, shallow little gulps that barely kept me going. I was afraid. Afraid for Caspian. Afraid of Caspian.

Something emerged from the trees, stepping out onto the bridge. He materialized out of the shadows, the moon’s light revealing his body. My eyes widened at the sight in front of me.

His skin, his eyes, his feet and hands. It was the thing I’d seen in the dream. The version of Caspian that wasn’t human. He had the same size, the same shape, the same two legs but all the details were off as if he wore a horror costume.

The men’s breath intermingled, fast and loud. They pulled their guns up.

“Wait,” Loren drew the word out as if calming a riled animal. “We don't know what we’re dealing with. No mistakes. Only take a shot you know you can get and keep shooting until it’s down.” He thrust me towards another man. There were only four men now and two captives that needed to be held. Which left only Loren and a second man with free hands to aim.

The monster had stopped when Loren talked. It tilted its chin up and thick, wet hair parted slightly to reveal a face I knew well. Caspian's eyes reflected the meager light as if he had mirrors in them. They shone, two little circular yellow orbs.

His face was etched in rage, his body practically vibrating. His lips pulled back from thin, sharp teeth. They reminded me of those creatures that lived in the Mariana Trench with terrifying mouths filled with unbelievable teeth.

A deep, trembling growl radiated up from his gut, a trilling bass that rolled all the way up to his mouth. It was inhuman. I could feel the hair lifting from the back of my neck as the sound expelled out of him.

He wore no shirt or shoes and it felt somehow wrong he wore Caspian’s pants. My mind couldn't fully grasp that this was truly Caspian and not some monster that had stolen his body and warped it into something else.

Loren and the other free-handed man shifted back slowly, while Brandon and his handler moved to the side. The man holding me seemed glued to the spot in shock though. Caspian suddenly surged towards us, running full speed while pulling an axe two-handed behind his head.

A tranq dart sailed at him but missed. He moved closer, right towards me. My heart seemed to vibrate and my breathing stalled out. I couldn’t do anything, my body wouldn’t move. It was coming for me and the pleasing features of Caspian’s face were so tainted by rage it hardly looked like him at all.

The muscles in Caspian's arms and shoulders flexed before he swung the axe down with a grunt of effort, putting everything he had into it. The axe fell swiftly then jerked to a stop halfway into the head of the man who had been holding me. The man's grip slipped away from my bicep, his arms hanging dull at his sides.

Caspian grit his teeth in a snarl, put one bare foot on the man’s chest, and then wretched the axe back out. His abs flexed as he did it. A sickening slurp accompanied the action. A queasy sensation thrummed through my body, making my fingers numb and my stomach roll.

The man fell on his back and blinked vacantly at the sky, seemingly incapable of doing anything until he gasped suddenly then died.

Caspian stood in front of me breathing hard, axe hanging at his side. A sprinkling of blood had gotten on his face. My eyes felt dry because I wasn’t blinking. My body was locked up in shock—ramrod straight. He looked at me, saw my reaction, then took two steps towards me and fell to his knees at my feet, dropping the axe. The rage bled out of his face.

My eyes went to his hands, needle-sharp talons tipped his fingers, webbing between each digit. My eyes slid up to Caspian’s face and his pupils were large and black, no light to make them shine and barely a sliver of the brown color lining the outer rim.

Caspian reached around me and I felt him untie my wrists and the rope fell down.

“I tried to be the perfect man for you,” his voice wavered. He reached up and I stilled as those vicious-looking claws came towards my face. He pressed his thumb to my trembling lip. His eyebrows pinched in concern.

“You’re terrified,” he started, his voice cracking. Tears slid out of his eyes, which were slightly larger than normal, almost alien-looking. Caspian clutched both my arms in his hands and started to cry, his body trembling.

Movement caught my eye and I looked up to see Loren walking a wide circle around me, his tranquilizer gun aimed at Caspian’s middle.

“Caspian,” I said, my voice a whisper. He looked up at me with those alien-big eyes, holding the tiniest bit of hope. “Caspian,” I said again, my eyes darting towards Loren. A hummed growl reverberated out of him as he saw the man slinking. The tears dried and his muscles flexed as he stood up tall. He moved in front of me, giving me his wide back—blocking me, protecting me.

Along his spine was a long dorsal fin, the bony protrusions between the webbing ended on sharp spikes. I heard the thwap of the dart being shot and saw Caspian’s body jerk as it hit him.

“Caspian!” I tried to reach out and grip him, make sure he was okay, but he darted forward, barrelling towards Loren. He moved fast and the second tranquilizer dart missed him.

“Shoot him! Use the rifle!” Loren barked now that his own life was on the line.

“No!” I screamed.

Goosebumps suddenly popped on my arms, like a chilling breeze of air had suddenly blasted off the mountain. Static hummed uncomfortably in my head. Most of us suddenly stopped and turned towards the sky, mouths agape.

Two red eyes burned into us from above. Two huge moth wings, black and brown, stretched and pumped. Mothman floated above us like a god with his wide arms outstretched. His leather duster flapped wildly but his hat stayed steady. Dizzy pressure filled our minds.

As Loren struggled with Caspian, the other two men dropped to their knees and raised their hands towards the sky in awe.

“My God,” one mumbled over and over.

“An angel!”

Brandon looked terrified and fell to his knees too, his head craning to look up. Loren tried to hold Caspian off as he looked on with wide eyes at the creature he’d really wanted. The one he was willing to do anything to catch. Captain Ahab and his white whale finally face to face.

“It’s Mothman!” Loren barked but no one listened. “It’s not an angel. It’s a beast!” He growled. Caspian lunged at Loren, tackling him to the ground. Loren gripped Caspian by the shoulders above him, holding him off as Caspian tried to lunge and snap at his neck with those amazingly horrible teeth. Loren's face was a mix of anger and hope. Anger that he was so close to his goal and might be thwarted, but infused with hope that his dream might now come to life.

One of the men cried out in pain and blood started to trickle from his ears.

“It’s talking inside my head!” He wailed in agony and delight. Loren punched Caspian and then kicked him off. I didn’t know where to look.

“The angel is talking to me!” The man cried out again, so happy and in so much pain. Blood began to leak from his eyes as Mothman finally touched down, his leather boots smacking the bridge. His wings folded close to his body, disappearing inside the back of his leather duster.

“What is he saying?” The other man asked with wide eyes.

“He said…” he cut off as blood gushed thickly from his ears. He groaned in agony, his voice began to slur, the words a sloppy mess as they crawled from his mouth, “we’re a bunch of hillbilly fuckwits.” Mothman confidently strode forward, pulled a long-barrelled revolver up, and shot off a bullet into the bleeding man’s head. It split into the man's face, bursting the back of his head like a water balloon—a rapid gush of liquid barfed out the broken back of his head, spraying out behind him for me to see.

My throat strained and ached as I tried to scream. Only a rasp hitched out from my mouth.

“W- what?” The live man asked in confusion, sounding like a confused, hurt child. His angel had called him a fuckwit. His angel just burst a man’s head open. Mothman swiveled his gun to him and did him the same service he’d done the other. This time, I managed to slam my eyes shut.

I heard movement behind me and jerked around. Loren was clutching the tranquilizer gun and three thick metal darts were buried in Caspian’s gut. Caspian laid on his back, giving that inhuman gurgled growl, his eyes pure rage. He was drugged to nearly complete paralysis.

Loren raced towards me, I turned to run but his thick arm came around my shoulder, pulling me into him. The sour smell of fermenting sweat leaked from his body. Caspian’s eyes widened but he couldn’t move, his body locked up.

My eyes pinged to Mothman. Across his leather coat, I noticed a fresh collection of claw and teeth marks that looked very similar to Caspian’s.

A trail of smoke lifted from under Mothman’s hat, twirling up towards the sky. He lifted a hand and pinched a cigarette from his mouth, flicking it on the ground and stomping it out with his boot. My eyes lingered on his hand. His skin was black and shiny, reminding me of wet dirt. His fingernails were more like little claws, thick, sharp, and black.

Two round red, glowing orbs peered out from under a leather hat and seemed to settle on me. I could see nothing discernable about his face, just shadowed blackness. He looked no different from when I saw him in the woods. When I thought he’d come to kill me. He hadn’t though. He’d saved me from the same fate as the cameraman. From the same fate as Caspian’s bandmates.

Brandon was lying on his belly on the ground, his forehead pressed to the bridge’s pavement, not moving a muscle. Mothman ignored him.

“Take it easy. No one wants me hurting the girl,” Loren said with a calm voice. I felt the tip of a knife grinding teasingly at the bottom of my ribs. It made my muscles flinch. I whimpered as acidic fear flashed inside me. The knife bit into my clothes, pinching my skin with sharpness.

“He doesn’t care about me,” I said, struggling to no effect.

“No, I think he cares quite a bit,” Loren said, walking me backwards. We had to veer towards the very edge of the bridge to avoid Caspian who bared his teeth at Loren and tried to swipe his arms towards us. His arms twitched and then lazily slung up before dropping back to the ground. He panted from the effort and aimed his gaze at Mothman.

“Save her,” Caspian wheezed from between needle teeth. Mothman groaned in annoyance. He pulled his gun back up, aiming it towards us. Loren quickly ducked down behind me, trying to shield as much of himself as possible. He also dug his knife in harder, breaking through the fabric of my shirt and slowly spearing into my skin. I could feel the tip slowly sinking into my body, sliding in painfully, and teasing towards my lung. I cried out in pain and Mothman stilled his approach and lowered his gun to his side.

Loren chuckled. I looked over my side, at the edge of the bridge. Loren had walked us backwards when Mothman approached. Now we were right at the edge. My shoe was just a couple inches from the dark valley gaping below us. I could hear the river’s sounds but couldn't see it.

“I’ve been hunting you for three decades. My father hunted you, and my grandfather before him,” Loren said. “It’s me who gets you though. Me who's taken down the God of the Appalachia.” He barked out a manic laugh.

Mothman looked off over the river and sighed. I could hear Loren licking his lips behind me, sliding up a little to straighten his back. A mistake.

Mothman’s gun snapped up in an instant and fired. I felt Loren jerk and I sucked in a breath. His grip slid off me as he bounced from the bullet's impact. Then he pushed me.

My stomach lurched up into my throat, feeling weightless as I teetered momentarily then fell from the edge of the bridge. My arms flung out, trying to grapple something but nothing was there to grab.

Air rushed all around, loud in my ears, making my hair whip around my face. I blinked up at the bridge, watching it grow more distant.

I imagined how painful it was going to be to hit the water. I wondered if there were rocks below me. I wondered if I wouldn’t die right away but would instead get swept under those undercut rocks to drown in the dark water, my bones already all broken.

A wail of agony came from above—Caspian sounding as if he were being flayed alive.

A black creature shot up from the bridge, faster than anything I’d ever seen. Two great big wings tucked in close to his body as he started to dive.

Hope blossomed in my chest and I inhaled, my hands reaching towards the monster. He descended like a predator bird swooping in for its prey. His speed was impeccable. The sound of the river was growing louder, making every microsecond fill with more anxiety.

Mothman’s arms slid around my body, pulling me into his chest—leather and smoke, his arms solid. He spun and swooped. I pressed into his body and wrapped my arms and legs around him.

His back faced the water, flying upside down. A hand came up and pet my head gently, dragging fingers almost shyly down my hair.

“You saved me,” I said, pressing my face into his chest as he held me to him, flying. I was flying.