I heard the dark voice again, "Rise."
My bones rattled, the words shaking every cell in my body to move. My eyes ripped open, letting the burning sun singe my retinas as I took a deep and startled gasp. It was like being born, like seeing for the first time. I was lying on my back, looking up. I saw trees with sunlight creeping through the branches of their dense fall canopies. I was buried deep in the forest, nowhere near where I last remembered, as far as I could tell. The endless void of leafy branches proved to me that I was nowhere near my property. It didn't look like anything I knew of the surrounding woods near my house. There was a highway on the other side of the thick band of trees behind the house. The woods behind my shed were thick, but nothing like what I was seeing. This deep in, and I would have spotted the highway, or started hearing cars blazing past at eighty miles per hour.
It had to be about noon since the sun was sitting right in the middle of the sky.
Flashes of blood and pain jumped through my memory; the blood smeared all across the shed floor, the shredded carcass of the deer, and the black eyes of the beast that attacked me. Or was it a man? It was almost like I was back there, being ripped open by the creature, feeling my flesh torn apart as the long razors swiped across my skin like a shadow of the night. I shook the memories away and tried to focus on the present as my heart beat faster in the fresh wave of fear.
I looked around and saw nothing but trees. The dense forest blocked out everything. I had no idea where I was.
I got up from the ground, a little easier than expected, and forced my body upright. My right arm felt healthy, a little tight, but reasonably normal. I examined my arm, twisting it in all different directions, searching for the pain I remembered from the attack. There was nothing. It was okay, not broken as I remembered, or what I thought I remembered, anyway. Yet, my clothes were still utterly destroyed. My shirt shredded, my pants torn, my body bloody. How could you explain that? I didn't understand.
I started walking through the trees in no particular direction. I just wanted to start gaining ground toward safety or some kind of help. My body felt fine; no arm pain, no back pain, and no headache from bouncing my skull like a beachball off that rock. I felt across my back for the shredded flesh that seared its pain into my memory. But…nothing was there.
I was beyond confused, unsure of what I remembered and what truly happened. I seemed to be completely fine. But everything that I remembered seemed so real.
I felt across my neck for where I remembered the beast's teeth ripping into me, but there was nothing. There were no physical signs of an attack anywhere on my body.
After searching every inch of my person, the only thing I felt that was notable was hunger. My stomach rolled and twisted for nourishment. My insides burned for food. I wondered how long I had been out there. I wasn't even sure how I got to where I was, let alone how long I was unconscious.
I had been walking for hours and hadn't been able to find my way out of the woods. I stopped to sit down in the thick layer of dead leaves, leaning against the base of a tree. Sweat was running down my face and body, but it wasn't from the heat; I felt sick. My insides were gurgling, twisting, and compressing as my body yearned for food. I had to figure out a way to get out of the woods and get something to eat. I breathed slowly, focusing on regaining control of my mind and forcing the hunger back.
As I breathed steadily, I heard my heart racing. I heard birds squawking overhead… too loud. I listened to all kinds of noises engulfing me. I breathed long and hard. The sounds slowly faded as I focused on my pulse and pushed everything else away. My heart thundered inside my chest, vibrating every vein throughout my whole body. It was like a runaway engine that was on its own path towards destruction. I couldn't keep up with it or slow it down. It made me start to panic even more. I thought I might have been going into shock for a second, then suddenly, a new sound slowly crept in above everything else. I could hear the sounds of tires rolling across a paved road. It sounded close, like it was just beyond the trees to my left. My mind was erratic with possibilities: cars, civilization, food, safety.
I jumped from the base of that tree and bolted through the woods. I ran through the first dense layer of trees and saw more trees. It had to be on the other side of the next thick band of forest, but it wasn't. I could still hear the cars moving, and only getting louder, but I couldn't see them. I ran for probably half a mile, through many thick groupings of trees, getting slapped and scratched by countless small branches and the like, until I finally came to a road.
As soon as I burst out of the dense foliage, a car went blaring past. I couldn't believe how happy I was, barely dodging a car. Finally, I had found help. Unfortunately, they didn't see me, so they kept going. But that was okay; it was only a matter of time until someone would stop, especially for a man who looked bloodied and beaten.
I saw a sign and immediately knew where I was, but I didn't know how I had gotten there. I was on I-35 about ninety miles north of Dallas, near the Texas and Oklahoma border. I saw a sign for the town of Gainesville. I knew exactly where that was, but ninety miles? I couldn't understand how I had gotten that far while unconscious. Nothing made sense. Even stranger, how did I hear the cars passing from so far away? The distance I had just run was quite a way off, and the sound would have also been muffled by all the trees I had to get through…?
I stopped thinking and just started strolling, hoping to hitchhike back to the safety of my house and my family. I needed help.
I had no clue what was going on. I thought that if I could get home, then Vicky could look me over, figure out what was wrong. She'd know what to do. She was a nurse, it's what she did, and she was good at it. I just had to get to her, and I'd be alright.
The longer I walked, sticking my thumb out just for the world to pass me by, I noticed something. Past all of the hunger, past the panic and confusion of it all, I felt different. I couldn't quite pinpoint it, but something wasn't the same. I felt strange, excellent, but different. As I walked the lonely road looking for help, something was teasing in the back of my mind. A thought, or a feeling of something… new… alien.
It was dark out on the long, black road. I had been walking for hours, and the sun had already made its way to the horizon. I was watching headlights pass me by every couple of minutes. Nobody trusted hitchhikers anymore. I couldn't blame them, though, as half of my clothes hung shredded, and the bloodstains had turned light brown. I looked like a dirty bum. So, I stripped my shirt. I tossed it in a ditch after a while, but then I realized even fewer people would probably pick up a bloodied, shirtless man over just a bloodied man. My clothes made the memories of the brutal assault hold their anchor in reality, and not pass on like some strange dream.
Finally, I saw the beams of someone's headlights cut around me as they pulled up behind me. I turned to see a truck pulling off onto the shoulder. They were still a way back, but I knew they were headed for me. I thought that my luck was finally turning around and that this was my ticket home back to my beautiful wife.
The old rusty-blue truck pulled to a stop right beside me as I stood on the dark shoulder. The brakes behind the big mud tires screeched as they came to a complete stop, and then the window slipped down.
"Hey man, where you headed?" one of the men in the back seat asked.
"South, back down towards Dallas," I answered. "I know it's far, but I'll take any ride you can give me," I said, hopeful.
"Yeah, come on, man, hop in," the driver said.
Without hesitation, I got into the back seat of the truck. There were three men in total. The driver looked to be in his early thirties, along with the others, but he looked like the leader; the other two passengers were quiet but observant. They both had their eyes on me. I thought that they were just careful with a hitchhiker in the car. The driver talked to me through the rearview mirror.
"I appreciate the ride, man," I said to the driver.
"Not a problem at all," he said courteously. "We ain't going all the way to Dallas, but we'll get you a little further down the road a stretch." He eyed me in the rearview mirror, "You lose your shirt?"
"I've been walking for a while… and it was hot," I prayed this would be enough of an excuse.
I didn't see the need to tell them what happened to me since I was still unclear on the subject. Plus, I had my ride. I didn't want to freak them out and put myself back on the ankle express. I wanted to get home to Vicky, to safety. I knew she had to be worried sick. She probably called my mom and dad, and the rest of my family, too. I just had to make it to her. She would take care of me.
"Why are your pants all ripped up?" the guy to my left asked.
"I cut through the woods and got caught up in some bushes and thorns."
"Does anyone else know you're out here?" the driver asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
"No, I haven't been able to get a phone to call anyone."
All three of them glanced at one another, sharing some kind of quick signal.
"Do any of you guys have a phone I could use?" I asked.
No one answered.
Then the driver started slowing down and veered off onto a small dirt road that darted back into the cover of the trees. I wasn't sure what was happening, but before I could even think, we came to a stop on a small two-track trail just off the main highway. It was probably someone's hunting trail.
All of a sudden, the guy sitting beside me pulled out a silver revolver and pointed it at my temple. He had his finger on the trigger.
"Get the fuck out," he said coolly. It was like he had done this before.
The other two were already out of the cab and converged on my door. The rust bucket's door flew open with a screech from its hinges, and the two men pulled me out of the truck. The gun holder crawled out through my side to keep his aim on me. They knew how to stay in control.
"Give us your wallet," the driver said.
"What?" I said, still in shock at what was happening.
"Your wallet mother fucker, hand it over," the gunman barked.
I felt for it in my back pocket, but it was gone; probably lost somewhere between us and the woods behind my house, or on my nightstand, I don't think I ever picked it back up. I don't know why that detail popped into my head at a time like this.
"I don't have it," I said.
That was a mistake. The third man, who hadn't said much except for when we first met, came around behind me and hit me over the head with something hard. It knocked me to the ground, and I landed on my back in a daze.
It was dark, almost pitch black, under the canopy of tree branches overhead. The moon was the only light source that trickled through the trees. I could make out what they were doing, but I couldn't see the details. They were checking my pockets for my wallet, keys, and anything of value, scavenging me like vultures over an already dead body.
I had heard about these kinds of lowlifes recently. They'd pick up hitchhikers, or lone wanderers, and take them somewhere secluded to rob them, rape them, or kill them. Somehow, of all the luck in the world, I ran into them after I had just been attacked and found myself in my current predicament.
"He doesn't have jack shit, man. No fucking wallet, phone, nothin'. Shit, he barely has clothes," the third man said.
I could see in the light of the moon that he had a lug wrench in his hand. That was what bounced off my skull just a few moments before.
"Fuck em'," the driver said, throwing away my existence.
The gunman looked at me, straight-faced, and pointed down at me with his gun.
"Wait, wait, wait, I can get you money…" I couldn't even get my whole plea out before I heard three loud cracks sound off.
All three bullets entered my chest cavity and ripped through me. The pain was searing and intense. I thought I was going into shock since I couldn't even scream.
The three assholes who just killed me acted like it was just a casual Sunday outing. They talked as they continued to check my pockets, just in case they missed something. Once they realized I didn't have anything, they paced back to their truck. I couldn't hear what they were talking about after they stepped away; the pain was too great, and an intense ringing overtook my ears.
They killed me and then just walked away and left me in the dirt like I was nothing. It was easy for them; the men had no care for what they had just done. I was their prey, just like countless others. I was never going to see Vicky again, or my brother, my sisters, or my parents. It was over.
Then, something in my mind shifted. The pain in my body was replaced by something else, a tightness that swarmed my entire body and flexed every muscle. My muscles felt like they were all pushing and pulling against each other, expanding. I could feel my bones and joints pop in and out of place as my body started changing; it overtook the pain of the bullets. My hands and face started to burn. Long, black, bone-like claws pushed out of each finger on my hands, which themselves looked massive and twisted. That's when I noticed the color of my skin had darkened to a greyish hue. Everything was changing. My jaws and teeth burned as they morphed and elongated. Then, the dark woods lit up like nothing I had ever seen. Everything was dark before, but I could see everything with perfect clarity. The world looked colorless, like an old black and white picture, but everything was so detailed. Nothing hid from me in the shadows of the night.
I could see the three men walking back to the truck, completely unaware of what was happening to me. They had no clue what was coming.
I didn't feel like myself, and I didn't feel in control. I felt like there was something else taking over. I knew what it wanted and what it was about to do. I didn't want to stop it from happening. The crushing hunger I felt all day had surfaced to become my only priority.
In the dark woods, something else stood in my place, and I let out a long, deep breath. I even sounded different, deeper, and inhuman. The three men turned back at the sound. None of them looked too scared at the moment because they couldn't see what waited in the darkness.
I stood up and felt my tight bands of muscles still shifting around my body as they found their new places. Once I stood up all the way, I saw how big I was compared to the men in front of me. They could now see something significant standing in front of them. I towered over them, rearing back to attack.
"HOLY SHIT," one of the men yelped.
The one with the gun pointed it at me and started firing the rounds he had left. I felt my body take off, launching myself at them. I swiped, ripped, and tore them with my hands. I sank my large fangs into their bodies and shredded them into pieces. I flung one of their bodies at the truck with so much force that, when it hit, the back wheels slid about three feet through the dirt. The other man was lying between the gunman and me, still breathing after the initial swipes of fury. I jumped my larger frame on top of him and crushed his chest in with my clawed hands, a vicious snarl escaping my throat. Blood sprayed in a mist as the air escaped from his lungs through the new holes in his chest. Before the gunman had finished shooting the rounds in his revolver, his two friends were dead.
A powerful breath was exhaled from my lungs as I rose, drenched in blood after crushing the driver. The gunman fired his last shot directly at me. I felt it hit, but it didn't deter me one bit. The flash from the muzzle let him catch a glimpse of the crimson-soaked monster that was standing in front of him. He only had a second to let out a quick scream before I slammed into him with my full force, pinning him to the ground. I felt my mouth close down around his neck and shoulder. I bit down hard, almost ripping out a large portion of meat with my razor-sharp fangs. I felt his blood running into my mouth. Usually, I would have had a different reaction, but it felt good. It wasn't the blood itself that was satisfying; the blood felt oily and invasive, but it was something else. I could feel the hunger inside of me turning back, the burden easing off of my mind and resting somewhere far away in the depths of the beast. I kept ripping through him with my powerful jaws until there was no life left in him. The hunger was fully satisfied, and I pulled off of him.
Then quickly, the shifting started again. This time, instead of expanding, I felt my muscles start compacting themselves back down to their original size. My teeth and fingers burned again as the claws and fangs receded into whatever resting place they had come from. Bones and joints popped and slid back to their standard frame. My tough hide faded back to its normal color and shrank with my muscles. Finally, I felt the return of control. The thing that had just been calling the shots was gone, hiding somewhere deep inside my mind… waiting.
I stood in silence as I looked at all of the blood, chaos, and death that covered the area. My pants hung loosely off me as the seams had been shredded from the intense expansion of my form. I couldn't understand what had just happened, what was happening to me, and what I was going to have to do next. I was terrified.
"What the fuck…"