Claws

The man ploughed through the snow. He ran as fast as he could, his feet sinking almost a foot into the snow before pulling them out again. His breath came in ragged gasps as he made his way down the mountain. Everywhere was numb except for his lungs which burned with every cold breath he forced himself to take.

He could not stop now. He had to catch it before he lost it. No one else could stop it, only him. The thing that had fled from his wrath was somewhere ahead of him. He could feel it even if he could not see it. It was his shame and humiliation. No one could ever know.

A cry tore from his blood flecked lips as he lost his footing. The snow around him was stained red with the blood that covered him from head to toe. He lost grip of the bloodied pickaxe he had been holding.

The man sobbed as he tried to pick himself back up again. He had no energy left, it was all too much. The cold sucked at the last vestiges of the madness that had kept him going despite the cuts, graze, bruises and sprained muscles. How he had gotten away without breaking anything was beyond luck. Perhaps it was some sort of twisted justice that had finally turned its attention on his plight.

A keening wail broke the perpetual sound of howling wind and falling snow. The man felt rage build inside his chest, red hot painful anger. It was screeching in triumph. He would show it what happens to those who mock him. No longer would he allow himself to be humiliated by the devils that haunted this mountain. He could not allow this one to escape him - the biggest abomination of them all. His, he could barely think the word for the shame of it, child.

The bloodstained figure struggled to his feet. He picked up his weapon of vengeance and pressed on towards the sound, and the thing that fled from him. His mind barely registered pain anymore. It was too full of the past atrocities those creatures had inflicted on him. They had used him, abused him for their own sick and twisted means. The creatures had broken him until at last they took what they wanted from him. From that had come this abomination he now hunted. He had no proof that what he hunted was truly his child but he just knew deep in his gut. It was not like the others. That was proof enough for him.

He paused when he spotted something breaking the white blanket that stretched out before him. It was two tiny slits in the snow. They were claw marks, just like the other creatures except this one had only two instead of three. That was why it was different. It was how he knew it was what they had made from what they had taken from him. It was close. It had to be for its tracks to still be visible in the driving snow.

The man pressed on more quickly. The creature could not be allowed to escape. He could not allow it the chance to do to other men what its ‘mother’ had done to him. Its taint gnawed at his heart. Part of him was in that thing and it shamed him more than anything. He had believed he was strong, once, but he had been proven painfully wrong. His fists wrapped tighter around the handle of the pickaxe causing the wounds in his palms to open again. Warm blood dripped onto the snow marring the white landscape all around him. He was so far gone that he did not even notice the pain anymore.

A flapping sound made his head snap to the side. It was amongst the trees next to him. Despite its youth it was cunning, it truly was its ‘mother’s’ child. He charged into the woods, hacking branches and pine needles out of his way as he continued his mad charge at his shame. A sudden noise next to his ear made him stumble.

The creature cried in outrage as the man’s fall carried it out of the way of its attack. He rolled away again, his previous position replaced with the clawed footprints of the creature. The man swung his axe wildly around him as he struggled to his feet. He screamed back at the creature as it wailed in frustration at his resistance.

The man span around and around holding the axe outstretched like he was trying to chop down a tree. He could hear it prowling around him but he did not know for sure where it was - like its ‘parents’ it was completely invisible. His arms screamed in protest when his attack clipped the creature who had tried to sneak up on him. Red blood splashed onto the snow and the thing screeched in pain. A grim smile appeared on the man’s face. It could not hide from him now.

Uttering an inarticulate scream of rage, the man charged. The creature was caught completely off guard as the man smashed into the creature, bowling it over. He pushed his hand down on its chest. Tears were streaming down his filth encrusted face and into his straggly beard. His gut heaved as he felt soft voluptuous breasts under his hand. So young and it was already fully developed. It was sickening. The shame had to be taken from this world. It could not be allowed to make more of its kind.

The thing scrabbled at his arm tearing the already ragged jacket he wore and his skin. The man continued to scream as the axe came down, once, twice, three times and many times more. Blood sprayed everywhere as he hacked down again and again until his arm could not move anymore.

He rolled off the remains of creature and struggled to his feet. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks as he staggered away deeper into the woods, the pickaxe trailing behind him. His shame was gone now. All the devils were dead now, he was sure of it. Now all there was left was to find some place for him to die. There was no way he could survive on this mountain with nothing but a torn ancient coat and the rags that had been his clothing before the creatures had got their claws on him.

Seconds stretched to minutes as he staggered through the woods. His vision was so blurred with tears and snow that he could see nothing before him. He felt sick at what he had done, at what had been done to him. When he had found that dead miner, he had not believed his luck. The last thing those creatures had expected when they came for him was their captive turning on them pickaxe in hand. He barely remembered what happened after that. All he saw was blood and screeching. Claws had stabbed through his hand but he had ignored it all. They could not hurt him anymore. All they could do was to die at his hand, every last one of them, except for that abomination that had somehow escaped. His… child was now dead and he could no longer go on. Now that his vengeance was sated, there was nothing - only a painful emptiness. He tried to think of his life before he had come to this mountain but there was nothing – not a single memory, not even a sound or a smell or even an image.

The man came to a halt when he collided with something before him. His eyes cleared for a moment as he looked at what was blocking his way. He began to laugh. It was his car. The deep green body and the scratches on the wing were unmistakable. He was saved! Perhaps there really was justice in the world.

The laughter died in his throat when he looked down at the ground. In the snow were four little slits. Just like the claws of the creatures but four. It could not be true, could it? The things must have a ‘mother’ of their own. It was the only possibility. The rage began to build in him again. It was not over. He had to kill them all, there was no other way.

The axe was in his hand again as he began to stalk off in the direction of the claw prints.

The man suddenly dived backwards as the thing flapped up from behind him. His arm took hold of its swanlike neck and pinned it to the ground. It did not resist him as he raised his axe to finish his torment once and for all. His eyes shone with madness and grief. His breath came in ragged gasps as he stared down at where the thing’s head should be. The snow stopped falling.

“Finish it,” said the devil with a woman’s voice.

The man froze. It could talk? The other creatures could not talk. Guilt washed over him. This thing could think. It was no beast.

“Finish it,” pressed the thing.

The pickaxe fell from his hand. He rolled away and put his back against the car. He could not kill anymore. The horror of everything sunk into him. The rage was gone and all that was left was guilt and grief. He was no killer yet he had killed. There could be no more blood on his hands, not after the blood of his own child soiled his hands.

He saw claw prints approach him before they stopped just in front of him. There was a slight rustle as he the creature, he assumed, crouched down before him.

“Why?”

“I… I can’t,” he stammered.

“Why?” she asked again.

“Because you can talk.”

“Is that all? You killed all my daughters and my only granddaughter – your own daughter. Don’t you hate me for my children?” asked the creature.

“I can’t kill anymore,” said the man, “I can’t hate anymore. It’s cost me too much. Just kill me and go.”

A soft warm hand caressed his cheek although the man could not see it. “I do not have the madness that possesses my daughters. I had hoped you would help me pay for the crimes of my children. I will not kill you.”

The man shook his head, “Killing you would not pay.”

The creature sighed, “Perhaps but it is the easiest way.”

“Life is not easy,” a tear rolled down the man’s cheek, “I learned that the hard way.”

“I’m sorry. I will leave now,” said the creature quietly withdrawing her hand from his face.

“Where will you go?” asked the man as the thing stood back up.

“I’m going to break this curse upon me.”

The man could feel his body starting to go numb. His hands felt like there were no longer in this world. It was getting harder and harder to breath.

“Why?”

The creature sighed. A tear fell from the air onto the snow, “Isn’t it obvious? I want to be human again. I want to have children that are not mindless beasts. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” She began to walk away.

“Let me help you,” he gasped.

The devil turned, “Why?”

The man held up his hands, “I think we both need the same thing.”

He felt hands take his.

“Oh, no, I did not know our blood would do something like that to people,” said the woman sadly. He could no longer think of her as a thing or a creature.

“So can I help you?” asked the man.

She sighed, releasing the man’s hands, “I guess you must.”

“Thank you,” said the man as he felt consciousness slip away.

He looked down at the ground through his fading hands. He felt arms pull him into an embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

The man smiled as consciousness left him completely.

“I forgive you.”

The creature wept.