Monster

Marcus hit the ground hard, rolling back into the wall where he heard a loud crack and felt an abrupt and explosively sharp pain in his shoulder. He knew in an instant that it had shattered. The being before him that he faced, its incredible power, its twisted and terrifying features, could be described only as monstrous. Slowly, Marcus rose to his feet, his arm swinging limp and useless by his side. He glared at the monster before him, knowing he was helpless to defeat him, but unwilling to step aside and let him have free reign over this town full of people he loved.

"What is it you want of us?" he demanded. The monster looked at him, large and wide eyes unblinking and without emotion. A low, deep growl came from deep within its chest, though it lips did not part to allow the air to escape. Marcus wasn't sure that it's lips could open. He had yet to see them do so. "Why do you hate us so?" Another growl came from the beast. Marcus couldn't tell if it couldn't answer, or if it didn't understand. But either way, the monster continued to advance on him, and he had nowhere left to run. He backed up against the wall, pinned in his place, death approaching him.

His sword lay useless a dozen feet away, behind the monster and inaccessible to Marcus. His armor had been ripped to shreds, hunks of metal strewn about the floor. Nowhere to go, nothing to protect him, no one to call out to for help, Marcus faced certain death. He watched his reaper approach him, finding himself unable to move. His breath hardly came to him, and his mind was blank.

The monster stopped less than a foot in front of him. Its arm raised slowly toward him, long and lanky fingers reaching for his face, weak in appearance, but able to crush him effortlessly. "Please," Marcus whispered. "Don't kill me. I'm sorry I hurt you. I just wanted to protect my family." The monster seemed to take little heed of his words. As its fingers reached for him, he felt a chill rush through his bones. He watched his life flash before his eyes. He thought of his wife and of their children. He thought of how he would never see them again.

And just then, through the dark cloud of fear, it became clear to him. To defeat the monster, he thought, he must become a monster himself. A final, desperate scream of anger erupted from his lungs, unbidden but welcome, and the monster before him reeled back in surprise. Marcus clawed at his face with his good hand, suddenly and inexplicably wracked by an inner pain that threatened to rip him to pieces. Deep within his mind, the chill from the beast continued, infecting him. He felt his skin pulsing, muscles expanding, his own features becoming something other than himself.

The monster stepped backwards, its eyes widening further to impossible lengths, and then a shiver ran through its body. The two looked down as one to see Marcus' arm already through the monster's stomach. In a rough and shaky motion, he pulled his arm back out, and the monster fell back, already dead.

Marcus shook with the power and cold that he had been infused with, unknowing of how it had happened, or what it would mean. He couldn't dream of seeing his family again. Not like this.

Without a second thought, he crouched down on all fours, and fled to the forest.