Page 22 of Mortis

Everything stopped.

The Beast froze.

I froze.

The struggle between us seemed to falter. Surprise loosened His grip, the crimson haze faded from my vision, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I found myself fully in control. It was strange, returning to myself and being greeted by a living mortal rather than a corpse. Though admittedly, there was still a corpse present. But she had simply been dead before I arrived.

The mortal climbed back to his feet, then took a cautious step forward.

I took one back.

Standing straight, the difference in our size became obvious. His head barely reached the centre of my chest.

Yet height was hardly the only thing separating us.

The upper half of my body almost resembled a mortal’s, but the lower half did not. His legs were unmistakably human. Slender and delicate, encased in dark blue fabric that looked rough beside the softness of his shirt. Mine were covered in coarse black fur that seemed to swallow the light. Thick with muscle and undoubtedly powerful. The joints bent differently from a mortal’s, and though we both possessed two legs, mine more closely resembled those of a goat, only far larger. And where this little mortal’s legs ended in tiny feet hidden inside canvas shoes, mine ended in cloven hooves.

I could kick through a brick wall with ease, while I suspected he would lose the fight with a thick sheet of paper.

The thought was oddly endearing.

The mortal took another step forward and I stumbled backwards in alarm.

“Shit,” he blurted. “Careful!”

Too late.

I’d forgotten about the corpse behind me, and my hoof came down squarely on the elderly woman’s chest. Ribs crunched beneath my weight. A wet squelch followed as my hoof sank through flesh and into the cavity beneath.

Neither of us moved.

Then I carefully lifted my hoof.

“Well,” the mortal said quietly. I looked down, taking in the sizeable hole now occupying the centre of the corpse’s chest. “That’s not good.”

No.

No, it was not.

I stared at the damage and winced. “I’m very sorry,” I muttered, the words emerging as little more than a deep rumble.

The mortal said nothing at first, and when I finally risked glancing up, I found him watching me with open surprise.

“It’s, uh . . .” He brushed a lock of mousy brown hair from his eyes and adjusted the round spectacles perched on his nose. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

I blinked. The statement made absolutely no sense. I had just put my hoof through a corpse. How was I not supposed to worry about it? Though, it was hardly the only hole she possessed at this point. The teeth marks littering her torso were probably of far greater concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. “It looked like you were going through something.”

I cocked my head. This mortal had walked in on a monster consuming a human corpse. He had been pinned against a wall, moments from death at His hand, and yet he still found the capacity to care about my well-being.

Whether it stemmed from kindness or a curiosity that seemed likely to get him killed one day, I couldn’t say.

Either way, I found it fascinating.

“I—”

The Beast scratched at the back of my mind, impatient and restless. I shook my head, silently asking for space. Usually such requests were ignored. This time, however, after so much of my earlier defiance, He relented.