Page 49 of Monster's Property

“Please, Peliel.”

And her voice is so soft and pretty, isn’t it? Gentle enough that it floats around your head before caressing your ears. I do care for her, but I do not care for her disobedience.

“I will consider listening to you later,” I say with finality. “Once we get home, we will put an end to this.”

At hearing the word home, she slumps to the ground. I ignore the small crack it puts in the casing around my heart. I cannot focus on her right now. Let her sulk until this is over. Besides, I should let her stew in her own feelings for a while as she had made me do while I was looking for her. It’s only fair.

“One more thing,” I say, watching her perk up at my voice. “You will turn your body around and not look until I tell you to,” I demand. “Do you understand?”

Arie nods.

“I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, Peliel. I will not look.”

“Turn around.”

I watch as she shuffles on the sand, turning her whole body until her back is facing me. She tucks her knees up against her chest and wraps her arms around them. Her hair cascades down her face when she leans down to hide away. I’m pleased with how well she listens to me and that she will be safe.

She better not disobey me. I’m already angry enough at her with her silly little escape attempt that I am already preparing the harsh penalty that she deserves. Arie cannot leave, and she will learn that through my hand.

The beasts are still growling behind me, an annoyance that I can’t let go any longer.

“I know these words are wasted on such mindless creatures,” I say with disdain, turning around. “But you should at least be a little aware of the punishment you’re about to face.”

More of the creatures have joined the first pack. Their maws drip with saliva and their eyes are hungry. I’m sure that to others they make quite adept predators with those long claws and sharp teeth.

“You’re nothing more than the dirt that sticks to the bottom of my shoe. You are nothing and will continue to be nothing, and you will not be remembered by anybody who matters.”

My wings flare out to their full potential and they shine brighter than the sun.

“Normally, I would let such pathetic beasts such as you alone and let you have your way. Normally, I do not care where you eat, sleep, or shit. It matters not to me,” I say. Their growls are getting louder and I smile. “Unfortunately…”

I let my eyes glow, and my smile grows wider at their yelps.

“You’ve caught me in a pretty bad mood.”

The slaughter is something that I hold precious no matter the occasion.

The first monster lunges. I hold my hand out to extend my light toward it and watch its maw begin to melt off of its face.

First is always the fur, it catches on fire so easily that it’s gone with nothing more than a spark. Next, the skin, peeling off and leaving holes where I can see the muscle start to cook as well.

It dies, the brain cooked inside of its skull with the rest of the body in pristine condition, the only thing affected being its head.

The rest comes easily after that.

I dig into muscle and bone like it’s as soft as silk, ripping pelts off and watching them burst into flame. The beasts stop barking and start howling, screaming in pain. They almost sound like humans, the darkest part of my mind supplies, and I can’t help but grin at the comparison. Some of them try to run away, but I do not let them, for this is their punishment. Never mind they only wanted food, never mind they only wanted to survive until the next day.

Their pained melody is as addicting as the most powerful drug on this planet and I will not give it up for anything.

I continue the slaughter, become a whirlwind of violence, guts, and gore until there is only one more left. I hold the leg of one of its family while I lick the blood off my other hand. The last victim lays there with its paws burnt from the superheated sand. It can only yelp and plead. Its eyes, usually so dark and angry, are filled with pain.

Were I a more merciful god, I might let it live. Though I suppose letting it die is also an act of mercy.

My hand, one of my many, many hands, burns white hot. I approach the little predator-turned-prey and press my hand on its chest. Then I push, push, push until its skin and muscle melt off around my hand. It screams, somehow still alive up until the last moment when I close my fist around its heart and cook it.

I look into its dead, dead eyes and realize in that reflection that Arie has turned around and is watching me.

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