The Beast


The beast approached.  Jaime was the first to notice it.  It came, stomping through the crowd.  It was clearly crazed.  Jaime looked to the others for protection.
It seemed incapable of conscious thought, yet still it came, ploughing through bystanders like a demolition ball.  Jaime looked at his accomplices.  “Avenge me”, he whispered.

The beast stopped and stared.  What could this thing possibly want?  This close, Jaime could feel its intensity.  Every muscle in its body was flexed, perhaps to keep it upright, perhaps readying it for war.

The beast threw off its coat.  Jaime’s handlers moved in.  “Don’t, you’ll just panic it into a blood-frenzy” he instructed.  What was it doing?  Why was it still here?  And why does it have one eye bigger than the other?

“Thign!”.  The thing spoke.  Jaime jumped back as it proffered its coat.  What in god’s name?  Jaime watched silently.  It can speak?

“Thign!” came the guttural noise from the beast’s throat.  It continued to hoist its jacket at him.  Jaime looked at his assistants. They shrugged.

“What does thign mean?” Jaime asked.  He felt his fear rise to near-intolerable levels.  The wait for the beast’s response felt like years.  Fear years.

“Thign!” it replied again.  I will die here, thought Jaime.  The beast made a hand gesture.  It does wish to kill me, he accepted.  Yet the movement seemed strangely familiar, almost like that of a human.

“Oh, you mean sign?”.  The beast nodded, sweat dripping from its brow.  Jaime reached for the jacket, his heart in his mouth.  “You want me to sign your jacket?”.

“Thign! Thign!” it screamed, again gesturing a crude writing movement.  Jaime panicked.  I’m going to die if I don’t do anything.  He popped the cap on an ink marker, scrawled his name on the back of the jacket, and handed it back to the beast.  He could see a sliver of hope.  But still the beast stood.

“Thign!”.  Jaime was sure he would be devoured .  All hope was lost.  The beast reached towards his face.  All turned grey.

As his sight returned, Jaime realised that he was not in hell.  The beast held a card to his face.  “You want me to sign this too?”

“Thign! Rarghhhh”.  The beast was close to rage.  Jaime took the card, and noticed that there was another signature on it.  Dear god, this thing has robbed and killed already.

Jaime signed the card and handed it gently back to the beast.  It stared at him, then stomped off, crashing over tables and maiming innocents.

Jaime crashed to the ground, relieved and exhausted.  The beast was gone.




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