Prey

Brian balanced the rock precariously in the palm of his hand. He knelt slowly, careful not to attract attention. "A little closer. That's right." he whispered, anticipation made it hard to stay still. "Come on." he coaxed.

The object of his attention, Mrs. Wellington's mean old mutt Lucky, lingered near the steak Brian baited him with. Brian had chosen the forest just behind Mrs. Wellington's house. The old lady never came out here, Brian knew this for certain, and he had watched her for weeks before picking a day to enact his plan. Today was the day. Lucky would not live up to his name anymore; Brian would make sure of that.

He ran his fingers absently over his thigh. The dumb dog had bitten him several weeks before. Brain had been left with a nasty scar. He had developed a subconscious habit of rubbing it every time he thought of being bitten. The dog had caused him nine painful stitches, one for each year of Brian's life.

The police had been called but they, along with his parents and old lady Wellington, agreed he had antagonized the mutt into biting him. Antagonized, he thought, what did that mean? If it meant teasing the old mutt and throwing cans at him Brian supposed he might be guilty. The dog cautiously lunged at the meat. Brain made his move, leaping at the dog with practiced precision. He brought the rock down upon the dog's skull. He smiled as he heard a sickening crack. He brought the rock down again and again until the dog lay motionless.

Breathing heavily he dragged the dog further into the woods. The sound of leaves and twigs crunching beneath his feet gave him a distinct pleasure. Being in the forest always comforted him. It was the only place he could be completely alone. Adults never came here and other children were not allowed to. He was not allowed either but he never got lost so his parents would never know.

He stopped in a clearing he had found a few days before and knelt beside his victim. He took the Swiss army knife his dad had given him from his pocket and pierced the flesh of the dog's stomach. He recoiled as the foul stench of urine and defecation filled his nostrils. A groan escaped his lips as the feces spilled out into the abdominal cavity. His fury came instantly. He had ruined it. He began to drive the knife into the carcass viciously. He ripped it free and made another wild stab. The tears began to flow as his rage dwindled to frustration, then to despair.

He threw himself to the ground and lay listening to the beating of his own heart. He reached out and placed his fingers between the dog's front legs. The heart, surely the bowels had not spoiled it. He sat up slowly, hope again within him. He cut the skin carefully, moving the knife very slowly. He licked his lips as he directed all his attention on the task at hand. He peeled the skin back and peered inside. The heart was untouched. He joyously thrust his hand beneath the ribcage and pulled it free.

He held it to his lips allowing the cooling blood to flow over his lips and tantalize his senses. He licked it slowly before biting into the muscle. A moan of pleasure escaped him as he allowed his ravenous appetite to take over. The heart, being a muscle, was not nearly as tender as the flesh, but it was better than starvation.

He ate quickly and greedily. It would not take old lady Wellington long to notice the mutt was gone. Though she would never come into the woods, she had four grown children and allot of neighbors that would search the woods if she asked them. He took a drink of cool water from his canteen. The sound of footfalls on the leaves alarmed him. He leapt to his feet, still eating and headed in the opposite direction. Someone was coming much sooner than he anticipated. From the sound of the footfalls they were in no hurry and still far enough away.

He licked his fingers as he finished his grotesque meal. He knelt beside a small creek and washed his hand and face carefully. His mother thought he was strange carrying around a canteen full of water and a bar of soap with him. She had decided it was O.C.D. Brian wasn't sure what O.C.D. was but mom had taken him to special doctor for it. The doctor had agreed with her and gave Brian some medicine. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing aloud. He had fooled them without even trying or knowing what O.C.D. was. Whatever it was, he supposed it was better than the truth.

When he was six his parents had bought him a hamster. They had instructed him to never open the cage door unless they were present. They had barely left him alone with it when he disobeyed them. He opened the cage so he could pet it. The stupid rat had tried to jump from the cage. Brian had been faster though and closed the door on its head. Blood and a grayish goop oozed from its fractured skull. It smelled so good and looked like already chewed gum. He had taken just a little on his fingers and tasted it. It had been delicious, the best thing he ever tasted. He picked it up and tore away at its fur. It pink innards glistened in the artificial light of his lamp. He tore into it with his teeth, savoring every bite.

Mother had walked in on him. She had screamed and screamed, so much dad had to take her out of the room to calm her. Brian watched them knowing he would have to have more, but would have to be careful not to be caught again. He hadn't known it was a bad thing. Hence he carried the water and soap to get rid of the evidence of his grisly meals.

He stood looking his hands over carefully. He studied his reflection in the water until he was sure there was no trace of blood. Satisfied, he listened for the footfalls. Noting the direction they came from he ran for home the opposite way.

Chapter 2

That evening he sat on the stairs listening to his parents. He could hear them but they could not see him. This was his advantage, they never told him anything. Spying was the only way he knew what was happening in his house. "Mrs. Wellington called about an hour ago." his mother was saying. He leaned forward, this could be important to him. "Someone or something brutally and from what she said, savagely, killed Lucky this afternoon."

"That's at least two dozen animals in the last three years, isn't it? Seems like the police would have a clue about a monster like that." his father commented.

"Yeah," his mother agreed, "I would love to get Brian a puppy but, like we discussed before, I'm scared it would get killed too and devastate Brian. I don't think it is another animal. I think it is a monster, a human monster."

Brian rose slowly and started upstairs. He could not stand being called a monster and his parents had done it twice in a few minutes. They just didn't understand. He just had to kill the animals and eat them. He had to. He looked around his bedroom. Posters of animals, science fiction movie characters, and his own drawings adorned the walls. "Parents are so stupid." he mumbled. They, of all people, should have known it was him. Sure, they had blamed the cat for the hamster. They decided the cat had killed it and Brian found it. The cat had disappeared since then as well.

He sighed and went into the bathroom to bathe. He shook his head, he was sure deep down his parents knew the truth about the hamster. Still...

Oh well, he thought, it would be at least a month before he had to do it again. He held up his hands and looked at the sparse patches of hair covering them. He wondered how long it would be before it covered him completely.

The hair came several times a year and with it a vicious appetite, one quenched by flesh and blood. He smiled knowing someday the hair would cover his body and he would search for bigger prey. Humans, maybe, especially stupid parents.