Page 25 of Mortis

“And every time I returned to myself, I’d be left to face whatever devastation He’d caused.”

“Did you feel bad about it?” he asked quietly. “The killing?”

I laughed. The sound was hollow. Humourless.

“My guilt is a plague.” The admission slipped out before I could stop it. “It follows me everywhere, sitting upon my shoulders. It fills my thoughts. There are days I feel as though it might crush me beneath its weight.”

I looked down at my hands and curled them into fists.

“At first, I attempted to justify it. Then I attempted to ignore it. Neither strategy proved particularly effective.” My claws dug into my palms and sharp pain blossomed beneath the skin. I welcomed it. “When the only creature available to discuss your problems with is the beastly manifestation of your own worst instincts, madness becomes difficult to avoid.”

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

“A fitting punishment for my sins, I suppose.”

The human said nothing. When I finally glanced up, he was rubbing his temples with slender fingers. For several seconds, he simply stood there. And then he groaned.

“I’m feeling bad for a man-eating monster. Who the fuck do I think I am?”

He ran his hands through his hair, leaving the brown strands sticking up in every direction. “Why the woods, anyway? You clearly had a town full of fresh meat on your doorstep.”

I tilted my head.

“I don’t have a doorstep.”

The flat look he gave me suggested I had missed his point. So, deciding it was best not to dwell on that, I focused on the first part of his question instead.

“We made a deal.”

“You and your beastie?”

A low, dissatisfied rumble vibrated through my chest and I blinked in surprise. The Beast appeared deeply offended by the title. The human’s mouth twitched at the corner, as though he were attempting not to smile.

“Yes,” I continued before He could forcibly reclaim control and end the conversation. “I allowed Him to take over whenever the hunger became too great, so long as He limited our hunting grounds to the woods.”

“What changed tonight?” The human glanced around the room before his gaze settled on the elderly woman. “You left quite the mess.”

I cleared my throat and lowered my head. He referred to the broken front door. The mud covering the tiles. The destruction in the kitchen. The partially consumed corpse.

“I apologise.”

He waved the apology away as though it were nothing. “S’fine. It’ll give Arlo plenty to do tomorrow.”

I had no idea who Arlo was, but I nodded politely anyway.

“Right.” He pointed at me. “Avoiding the question. What changed?”

I stiffened. Suddenly, I found myself wondering how much time had passed since I’d left the woods.

How much remained before dawn.

How much longer I had before He took over permanently.

The human seemed to notice my distress. He stepped closer, one arm extended cautiously towards me, as though he intended to offer comfort. I had observed mortals doing such things for one another before.

Slowly, he closed the distance between us. His hand hovered above my own. Pale skin, slender fingers. So much smaller than mine. He stopped short of making contact. A mere breath separated our skin, yet somehow, that was enough. Some of the tension eased from my shoulders.

“He was hungry,” I began, and the human nodded once. “A child and his father were walking through the woods, and I could feel Him preparing to take control.”