*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1708265-The-Making-of-a-Monster
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1708265
Echid's accident was only the beginning of a new life.
Echid wandered through the forest – His breathing labored as drops of blood slid down his forehead and splattered on the pine needles at his feet. He peered over his shoulder and could no longer hear the dogs. Again, he eluded his pursuers.

After three hours of pushing through underbrush he stood before an old log cabin. Smoke streamed from the chimney and a dim flickering light shone through the open window. He crept to the side of the opening. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He could smell his own body odor mixed with a hint of wood smoke.

He peaked around the corner and saw the backside of a large-framed man standing over a stove. A candle beside him danced in the gentle breeze which swirled into the one room home. Echid licked his lips. I’m hungry.

Soon the smell of fish frying wafted out the window. Echid looked around. A small worn path led down and away from the cabin. He walked toward it, and heard the trickle of water. Must be a stream. Guess I should try to be presentable. He reached up and felt the scabbed-over wound.

He tromped down to the stream and knelt down splashing fresh, cold water on his face and arms. He pushed his whole head in and shook like a dog spewing water all over the sun baked rocks. The sun tantalized the tops of the tall pines across the rushing tributary.

Echid plodded up the path to the front door. He breathed deep and expelled the warm late-afternoon air. He knocked.

The large man swung open the door, and before Echid could speak. The man’s eyes grew wide and he stumbled backward. He attempted to slam the door shut, but Echid wedged his foot in the door frame and shoved the door open.

“I tried to look nice,” Echid said.

“You! You’re that… that monster they’ve been talking about.”

“I’m not a monster. You all just treat me like one.”

“Get away from me! What do you want?” The man cowered before Echid.

“I just wanted some food. I thought…”

“Take it. It’s yours. Just take it and go. You’re… hideous.” The man sucked in a breath.

Echid grit his teeth and the word felt like a knife through him. He saw a fried fish with a few bites taken out of it on a ceramic plate resting on the table. He snatched the fish and shoveled a few mouthfuls in. Echid glared at the man.

“You got anything to drink?”

“Sure. I’ve got a pitcher of water over there.” The man pointed across the room at the pitcher on a small stand.

“Well, get me some water.”

The man stumbled to his feet and crossed the room with a cup in hand. His hands shook as he poured the water. He spilled some as the drops silently shattered on the hard wood floor. He placed the cup on the table and backed away.

Echid snarled at him and raised the cup to his lips, and drank. Echid eyed the stranger. He stood about six foot, around fifty years old, and he wore old hole-speckled jeans and a grimy shirt. The man’s hair had a large dose of white mixed with gray. He could tell it was thinner than in his youth.

“Good fish.”

“Just go. Take it and go.”

“What’s your hurry old man? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“That’s not what the villagers say. You’ve killed two men already.”

Echid’s face twisted up. “They say that, do they? No wonder they keep hunting me. Both of those men attacked me. They died accidentally. I didn’t do anything to them. Just wanted shelter from a storm, that’s all.”

“I don’t care. All I know is there’s two men dead at your hands.” The man’s adam’s apple bobbed on his throat.

“I know I’m not what people picture as a model citizen. I wasn’t this disfigured from birth. I was once a boy like any other. Normal. Then the accident happened. Out of control wagon and a team of horses ran me over. Twisted my spine. Crushed my face. Broke five ribs and both my arms. It’s a miracle I survived. Only Katherine…”

Echid stopped. The man stood before him with a fire poker.

“I’m warning you. Get out of my house.” The man spoke the last sentence through clenched teeth.

“I don’t want any trouble. I just wanted some food. I never asked for anything else. I haven’t tried to hurt you.”

“Just get out.” He swung the poker menacingly at Echid.

Anger welled inside of Echid. He squinted at the old man. “You’re the monster. All of you. You can’t accept anyone that’s different than you.”

“Out!”

Echid lunged at the man, tackled him, and drove him against the stone fireplace. Rage consumed him and he punched the man over and over, bloodying his nose and mouth. His powerful strokes produced a wrenching crack which shattered the man’s jaw. The man curled into a ball, but Echid kept swinging. His crushing blows thudding against the man’s back. Winded, Echid stepped away. He slipped on the small pool of blood and regained his balance.

“There. That’s what you wanted isn’t it?” Echid screamed. “A monster. You pathetic wretch.”

The old man’s body quivered and shook in pain. His face still ran with blood, but he found the strength to crawl away from Echid. Echid delivered a hard kick to the man’s abdomen, and he crumpled to the floor once more and gasped for air. His breathing became labored and shallow.

“Thanks for nothing. I tried to be nice. You just wouldn't let me.”

Echid overturned the table and loped out the door. His shirt and hands now covered in blood, he trod down to the stream and washed. The water now felt like needles to the sores on his hands. He dipped his shirt in and rinsed most of the red away, when a dog’s bark startled him.

“Damn.” He slopped on his shirt and sprinted toward the forest. A mountain lay behind like a beacon calling to him. “That’s where I’ll go.”

Bramble bushes tore at his shirt and skin as he ran, until he could hear the dogs no more. He panted and rested at a large rock near a meadow. White wild flowers filled the patch of ground like tufts of cotton balls. Butterflies and honey bees darted from stem to stem flitting and buzzing. Echid stared in awe at the beauty. They’re so lucky. No one hunts them. They just live in this little world, full of grace and beauty. They don’t know what it’s like to be an outcast.

The sun slipped to just a sliver above the horizon, and Echid laid down among the swaying flowers. The sky dimmed and stars began to wink at him. Crickets started their song as Echid fell asleep.

The bright sun sifted through the trees and danced upon his face. Echid’s eyes fluttered open and he smelled the sweet aroma of wild flowers and grass. A bee zipped by in search of nectar for his queen. Cold and damp he pushed himself up and trudged through the dew soaked plants.

Echid scanned the area and a long lost memory drifted to his mind.

“This place,” he muttered, “seems familiar.”

He spun around. His eyes darted from tree to tree and back to the meadow. “Yes. I do remember this place.” He turned toward a cluster of trees and found the overgrown path. He followed it through the trees and emerged to find an old charred house. One blackened wall still stood among tall weeds.

“Katherine’s house.”

He knelt alongside the wall and wept.

“Why did you even nurse me back to health?” he asked. His eyes searching the sky as he spoke. “How you tried to get them to accept me. Then, they killed you. All because of me.”

Echid let out a great heaving sob that echoed across the meadow. A few startled quail in a nearby bush darted to safety.

His hand traveled along the rough-hewn wall. He touched the blackened end and stood in the center of the second home he’d ever known. Even his mother abandoned him after the accident. Weeds speckled the ground among a weathered, fire-damaged beam. A bird’s nest rested on top of the charred wall as tiny beaks chirped and bobbed toward the sky wanting their next meal.

Aimless and tired Echid sat on the half-crumbled beam and stared out at what used to be the back window. He spied something laying in the grass, and curious, was drawn to it. As he approached he could see the broken cross. Grass had swept over the grave. He could barely tell where the mound of dirt used to be. He straightened the wood pieces and drove the cross back into the ground with a chunk of the old beam from the house.

“Rest in peace, Katherine.” He picked a few wild flowers and laid them at the base. He leaned against the cross and closed his eyes, thinking of her. He drifted into slumber.

Four powerful hands grabbed Echid’s arms on each side as he woke with a start. He resisted and threw one man off him, but another took his place and they wrestled him to the ground. A gun hilt smashed him across the face and he lost consciousness.

…………………….

The taste of blood in his mouth, Echid stirred from his slumber. Iron bars’ shadows lined the wall across from his cot. He heard the sounds of men hammering and sawing outside. He pushed his face to the window where four men worked on building a platform and a yardarm with a rope dangling from it. He sunk back on to his cot.

“Finally awake huh.” The sheriff spit into a spittoon.

“Why were you guys after me?”

The sheriff laughed. “You know why. You killed two men and old man Peters is neigh to it himself. Broke his jaw. We barely even knew who he was. You’re an animal, and you’re going to hang.”

“Those men attacked me. That old guy too. Peters did you say? He came at me with a fire poker. Look for yourself.”

“You filthy liar. I’d shoot you right here if you weren’t already going to hang.”

“I’m telling the truth.” Echid stood and went nose to nose with the sheriff against the bars.

“You’re going to hang for what you done.”

“And what about you and these town folk? They killed Katherine. They’re the killers, not me.”

The sheriff shook his head. “An accident. You’ve never cared for anyone in your life. Makes me sick just to look at you.” He spat again into the spittoon.

Rage filled Echid. He tightened his fists and grabbed the bars and shook them with all his might. They didn’t budge.

“Who’s the animal?” The sheriff smiled. “You’ll hang tonight.”

Echid sat on his cot as the sheriff exited.

After a few hours, the sounds of hammering went quiet. The gallows were complete.

I don’t even get a trial? What kind of justice is this? He contemplated his scant options when he spied a black pipe just within his reach.

Three more hours passed as the sheriff, keys in hand, unlocked the cell door. Three deputies escorted him.

“It’s time to hang,” he announced.

They tied his hands in front of him, and Echid went quietly. He limped as they guided him up the platform.

The sheriff stood before a large crowd. “We are gathered to put to death a monster for murdering two men.”

As the crowd cheered, Echid’s hands slid down his pants and he gripped the pipe. They want a monster? I’ll give them one.


2000 Words

Written for a contest with a 2000 word limit.
© Copyright 2010 BScholl (the0hawk at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1708265-The-Making-of-a-Monster