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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1974673
Is it worth re-writing?
Bullwarthe Bawl’s Decision To Make A Bad Decision Narrated By The Nameless Old Man He Has Now Become


By: Mike Nail
         


They used to call me The Bull.  I was a fighter, not your typical pugilist style fighter but a lean machine in the ways of street fighting.  I could hurt a man with no regret.  Crush his nose with one swing of my fist, double him over and watch him wretch in pain on the ground with a kick to the stomach.  Those who knew me didn’t want to fight me and those who didn’t know me would regret not listening to the warnings of other’s.  No one matched me.  I fought hard and I fought well until one fateful night back in the summer of a year unknown.          

I saw her there in the bawdyhouse.  She was perfect.  I have never seen another woman as beautiful as she was.  She had long black hair that looked like fine Chinese silk the light shined from her head in the form of a halo.  Her skin was a pale white and when touched with just the right amount of pressure could give an electric shock that would sting for days after.  Her eyes, I’ll never forget.  They could pierce your heart and make you forget your sins.  When you were with her, like I was, you had the power to take on God and knock him down.  That’s how I felt the day I met her and all the days after.          

We lived on adrenaline and sweat.  I took her from that bawdyhouse and constructed a new room on my house where she could work.  The room was located next to our bedroom in the back of the one floor bungalow so I could listen to her moans and wails in the night whilst I waited for her return.  With the money she made fucking and the love we made together there was no stopping us.  We were a freight train that could not be stopped.  We sat high on the mountain and leapt over the clouds when they obstructed our vision.          

My fighting days were over.  They came to call me The Gentle Bull after that.  I took pleasure in turning down fights and walking away from the impact of a sucker punch meant to make me want to fight.  I was not angry anymore.  I was happy due to the affection and presence of this woman.  Even when she wasn’t at my side I could feel her grip around my heart and her gentle caress on my cheek.  All I was and had become I owed to her and her alone.  The grass was greener, my taste buds grew taste buds and the earth seemed to stop turning the night it all ended.  That night was an eternity it was like heaven had fallen off its shelf and broken in two.  I can still see her eyes; I have them in a jar somewhere inside my head hidden well from others.  I can find them when I need to and I take them out from time to time to study her look and to remember those days.  I threw her away once but she came back to me as if she was now apart of me.  I vowed never to do that again.          

The night I mentioned earlier, the night it all ended was a typical night for us.  She had just finished her last customer, washed herself proper and dressed just the way I liked her to dress.  Like a filthy whore.  Jesus, she was beautiful.  How could I have done what I did.  How could I have made a decision I knew I would regret.  How could I have lost the only woman I will ever love.  I believe my fate, what I am today and what I will be tomorrow rests with a divine decree.  A decree brought forth from the gods of loneliness and meekness set forth and upon me and only me to torture my soul until the end of time or until my welcomed demise.           

The night I speak of, the only night in my life up until that night that I regret was a night I will never forget.  The moon was not full, there was no alignment in the stars and the predictions of the local clairvoyant did not warn of any misgivings or horror of what I am about to let you in on.          

The name she gave me and the name I addressed her with was Elsa.  Oh, Elsa, when I speak your name I still get goosebumps.  I don’t remember the last time I spoke her name aloud.  The night was October 31.  Halloween of course, the only night the devils and demons are aloud to come out and play with the living innocent.  We had been together for almost one year till this point.  I hadn’t known her the Halloween past so I had no idea what was about to occur between us.           

When she walked out and into my line of site looking like the whore I fell in love with I could not help myself.  We made love right were we stood.  It was the best lovemaking I had ever experienced.  We fucked for hours.  Then it happened.  I threw her a towel to clean herself up with and she let out a growl.  I don’t even think she realized it herself.  I stared at her for a moment and did not move.  Her teeth began to grow right before my eyes.  Her hair turned coarse and sprouted up from her back and legs.  Her hands and fingers looked dangerous and overwhelming.  She turned into a goddamned wolf right in front of me.  I heard of this but never saw it.  The art of lycanthrope is a very dangerous thing.  I know now, as I am much wiser to it.  She screamed like she was in pain.  I came to her aid and she let out a howl.  A howl that made every hair on the back of my neck stand up.  I could not leave her, I loved her.  She looked at me in anger, like I was to blame for the misfortune of this disease.  She tore at my side like a mad dog starving for food.  She pierced my flesh with her claws.  I was in so much pain, I cried for her to help me.  I yelled aloud as to why she was hurting me like she was but there was no answer.           

I was able to break free from her leaving a chunk of my flesh in her jaw.  I ran and didn’t look back.  My body ached with pain.  I started to cry.  My tears were cold and ran down my cheek and into my mouth.  I could taste the mixture of blood and tears.  It tasted like home.  Like my mother’s homemade cakes.  I could feel a cold numbing come over my body.  I didn’t know what was happening to me.  I thought I was already dead.  I stopped to catch my breath but she was there again.  In front of me waiting for me to arrive and meet my fate.  I could not see Elsa anymore; there was no recognizable trait left in the beast to distinguish her from it.  I found my self yelling and cursing this thing to die.  Then I began to beg for my life as I knew it was over.  She pounced on me with a destructible force that knocked me out cold.  That’s all I can remember from that night.  I never saw her again.          

The next time I remember anything a great feeling of fear awaked me.  I opened my eyes and looked around not knowing where I was.  I could not see.  I do not know where I am I thought and I do not know how to get home.  I needed help in a terrible way.  I felt my side and it was not there.  I could feel the blood on my fingertips and I could grab my ribs with my fist, I held them tight and ripped them out.  I yelled to the gods and threw my ribs to the skies.  “Why have you forsaken me”, I screamed in anger, “Why have you punished me this way”.  But there were no answers.  I still do not know where I am. 
© Copyright 2014 Mike Nail (michaelcole at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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