The Creature

Corrina Chan

CW: animal violence, brief mentions of torture/mutilation, death 

Ch.1 “Awake” 

The first thing I ever felt was the feathery itchiness of greenery cradling me. I flinched away from the light that shone through the canopy above only for a second before the heat overtook me. I bathed in its warmth for a while, listening to the chirps and buzzes of the wild around me, of the life I would soon become a part of. 

What felt like only a few hours later, I noticed the twitching of soft fluff of fur on my face. I opened my eyes to see the fuzzy nub of a rabbit nuzzling my face. I looked at him and he looked in return, and suddenly I felt myself shrink, slowly, until I was nose to nose with the little creature. I turned my head with his and again, like the mirror image I became of him. He turned suddenly, hopping into the low brush. I followed, tentatively, still unaware of the strangeness of the world I had just come into. 

To my surprise, the little rabbit turned to see if I had followed before resuming, stopping to wait if I ever slowed. The underbrush was thick and the feeling of the twigs and sharp leaves scraping against my now-fur was quite unpleasant. We emerged into a clearing where a small stream ran through. Half a dozen eyes rested on me. They were cautious in their observations, slowly moving towards me, sniffing the air. I cocked my head and did the same. A moment later, I was shown a small patch of clovers. The other rabbits reached down and began eating, but I did not feel the need to. They looked at me with heads tilted.

Over the next couple of months, I got to know the little family, regularly foraging, grooming, and playing with the young ones. The life of a rabbit for me was a simple one. Merely roaming around the forest looking for the best patches of clovers and grass to eat and the most beautiful parts of the stream to drink and hop across the rocks with the other rabbits. When it rained, and it did ever so often, we took shelter under thicker parts of the canopy or under shelves of rock or brush. Every morning afterwards, we could smell the earth as it was damp and filled with life. The sunlight parting the leaves above glinted off the water droplets that had appeared the night before. This world was so beautiful, I had realized. 

But soon, the days grew colder and the rabbits began to prepare themselves for the coming winter, digging a small hole just big enough for the few of us to sleep, warm, and protect ourselves in. They told me of the predators that lived in the forest and how they became more ferocious during this time. I had no idea what these animals were; tall furry bodies with a long snout perfect for sniffing us out, equipped with sharp teeth meant for ripping the flesh from our bones. I didn’t quite understand what this meant yet. 

When the first wet puff of snow reached the forest floor, we began spending most of our time that we didn’t spend foraging for what little food we could find in our den, huddled together until our fur laced together like one tiny blanket. One night, I was awoken by the sound of huffing and the hot, wet breath of a muzzle poking into the entrance of our home. I moved to wake the rest of my family just as the muzzle started growling and snapping at our ankles. We forced ourselves into the farthest corner, desperately pawing for purchase against the dirt that crumbled beneath our feet. Suddenly, a sharp claw hooked the tender skin between the bones of my feet and I was dragged out into the night. There was very little I could remember from that moment but the deep yellow eyes boring into me, and the feeling of a sharp, wet breath on my face as its jaws closed over me. 

~~~ 

I woke up once again with a start, looking around as the same animal that had attacked me the night before. I stood after a while on four paws, shaking the feeling of my own death away. 

I looked around for my family, but I was no longer in the same green woodlands I once was, but on semi-mountainous terrain. There were much fewer trees than before and the ground was rocky and stiff on my paws. There was no angelic chirp of the birds in the canopy and no clover covered grass to lay in. It was no longer snowing, but it was cold enough to make me shiver. The blue-ish hue of the sky overhead was no longer obscured by leaves and branches, but by a thick swath of puffy gray. 

I could see no animals, no deer or birds or any sign of life. Perhaps they were off looking for food or playing in the marshes far below. Or perhaps they were scared. Scared of me. I understood. I wondered what had happened to them, the little rabbits in their tiny burrow under the forest floor, scared and a member short. I wondered if I would ever see them again. I wondered how far I was away from them now and if they missed me just as much as I missed them. 

From the rocky hill I lived on, I could see a large expanse of shiny blue I would soon learn was called the ocean. It intrigued me, so I set out alone. Trotting down the hill, leaping from rock to rock, running, bounding my way to the weird, barren area, I finally emerged from the treeline to the water’s edge. The ground was unstable and moved under my paws. I tentatively padded over to the water as it struck the land. It was the same substance that made up the stream I played in with my late family. I lapped at it before recoiling in disgust at the incredible saltiness of the liquid. It burned my tongue and seared my throat, so I set off looking for something new. 

Ch 2 “Something New” 

Decades went by of my many lives and each time, I awoke as someone new. From flying to swimming to running across the ground either on two legs, four, or none, I made my way through the world. I was never the same creature twice, learning something new about my surroundings through new eyes each time. Sometimes I would wake up in what was seemingly a whole new world, an icy tundra or the driest of deserts. 

Along the way, I discovered that I had no need to wait for death in order to change my form. In fact, it is often what had saved me from being eaten by a large bird, as I turned into a large bear similar to one that I had seen just days before. My family at the time, a sweet pair of squirrels, of course, now deemed me as a threat and scampered away. I decided that it was better for me to choose a form and stick with it if I were to not disrupt the fragile nature of those that I was surrounded by. 

I greatly enjoyed the times when I was something like a bird. My wings cut through the wind as I glided through the mountains or over plains and seas. The vast expanse of the land was completely visible from above, every other plant or animal I could ever imagine just below me at the reach of my talons or tarsi. It was solitary, at times, but I was never alone. Each firefly, fish, or fauna were as close to me as family, but no matter how long I lived, I could never stop mourning where I came from and what I lost when I left it.

I was a whale, the largest being in the entire world at one point, and I got a glimpse of the world below. How much life lived down in a world completely different from that of the surface. One day, I returned to the seas as measly shrimp, feasting on the carcass of another whale. I was an ant in a colony spreading across part of a continent. I carried leaves and battled other colonies. I was part of a pseudo-civilization, working everyday with one singular purpose: to serve my queen and protect the colony. 

Eons passed this way as I roamed the world. Even as it grew colder and warmer again in an endless cycle, mountains formed and fell, and as I became new over and over and over again. Until they came. 

~~~ 

I was a wolf, plodding through the grasslands with the pack I had recently joined, when I first encountered them. A smoky column appeared in the sky and my immediate fear was “wildfire”. My pack warned me against seeking out the source, but I was curious. Perhaps too curious for my own good. 

We came up to a clearing, tall straw-like structures encircling what appeared to be a small contained flame. On the fire, there were hunks of meat, delicious and rare, the juices dripping into the kindling with a sweet sizzle. We circled the perimeter of the clearing, getting a glimpse of what kind of creature had built such an odd structure and had chosen to set its meal on fire. 

I took the bait and broke into the clearing, my head close to the ground, sniffing for anything I could identify. There was an odd stench, but it was not from the burning elk meat. It was something new. 

There was a sudden shifting of the straw shelters and we bolted, my pack retreating back into the darkness. But I stayed in the shadows, my posture low and my hackles raised. The strange figures emerged from the tents, sitting on felled logs and stones close to the fire. Of every life I had ever lived, and every other living thing I had ever seen, these new large, hairless bipeds were peculiar. They cooked their meat, wore artificial outer shells, and chitted and growled non-stop while they ate. I didn’t understand these noises (about as much as I could understand any unfamiliar creature anyway). I listened anyway, intrigued by their strange behaviors. The more I observed these creatures, the more curious I became. Conversing with my brethren, they told me the furless bipeds were something new. “Humans”, they called them. 

Ch 3 “Mythical” 

These “humans” told stories of their ancestry, the beasts that roamed the land, and great, mythical beings they either feared or called their gods. These beasts lived in the forests, in the skies, in their oceans and lakes. I had thought, once, that these stories were a means of demonizing the land surrounding them, teaching their offspring that the lands in which they lived were meant to be feared and subsequently put down. Later on, I came to realize that these stories did not often strike fear into their children’s minds, but wonder and fascination. They huddled around their story-tellers, so eager to learn more. It was beautiful, in a way. The children were full of awe at the nature of the land that surrounded them, just as I was. 

As their numbers and their civilization grew and spread, I appeared to them more and more, observing them and the new structures they built on the lands I had called home. I captured some of their fancies, as I was unafraid of their sharp, tooth-shaped weapons and their tall, strange, yet non-threatening appearances.

One day, I was ambling about through the streets of one of their towns as a starving fox when I came across one of the little humans sitting against a wall, happily feasting on a small loaf of bread. I came up to her, pretending to beg for a piece, and she tossed a bit in my direction. She smiled down at me, at the strange, unnecessary creature. 

Though I was initially confused by her gesture, I happily took the baked confection and plodded along when I heard her scream. A man had taken her by the arm and was berating her. I ran up to the man and growled at him, but he instead punted me into the wall and stormed off with the girl. I was unsure for the girl’s safety, but I was injured and needed to heal, so I slipped away. 

~~~ 

Days later, I returned to see the little girl, but she was no longer sitting against the wall happily eating her bread. From beneath the rags she wore, I could see bruises and cuts, and it looked like she could no longer hold her head up. Men dragged her through the streets. She didn’t even seem to struggle. They tied her to a pike in the middle of the town square, spreading bits of wood and sticks beneath her feet. I froze. I had seen this before in civilizations past. They wanted fire, to burn her and to murder her in the most gruesome way imaginable. I had seen death before, lived it.

They wanted flames and death, and I was going to give it to them. 

I leapt into the air, wings sprouting from my back, my orange and white fur becoming hard, lizard-like scales, and my paws receding into talons. I screamed as I raced towards the group. They screamed back in terror. The hatred in my throat burned bright and it burned hot and I unleashed it into the crowd of spectators. They screamed, just as the girl had had when she was being dragged away by a boorish older man, like she hadn’t when they were dragging her through the town to her death.

In minutes, the town was ablaze. Smoke filled the air along with the pungent smell of burning homes, flesh, and fur. The thatched roofs of their homes caved in and people everywhere were fleeing my wrath. The town itself illuminated the valley. The only one who didn’t seem to mind the flames was the little girl. I returned to the inferno, plucking her from the pyre in which she was fixed. She didn’t scream. No sound came from her as I carried her away from the town that had deemed her wicked. 

A little while later, the girl had still not moved and for a second I thought she had not made it. But a tiny hand rested on my talon and I knew she was going to be ok. I landed for a moment in a thick, flowery field to carefully place her on my back, hoping that my wings could protect her. I lifted back up once again, wishing I could show her the world as I had seen it. 

It had been eons since I had lived in the skies and I feared I had forgotten how it felt to fly. The wind soared past me, tickling my face and lifting my wings. I glided higher into the low-lying clouds. Though I could not see the girl, I could feel her clutching onto the ridges of my spine, leaning back against the mist. I broke through the thick, floating over the clouds. We were bathed in the thick beams of sunlight as it passed behind the mountains. I could feel her looking back at the large plume of smoke behind us. 

~~~ 

I landed on the rocky ledge of a cliff overlooking the valley and placed her on her side by my feet. She breathed heavily and coughed and gagged, struggling to her knees. She stumbled over to me before collapsing against my thigh. I looked down at the little human whose life I chose above hundreds of others. She looked back up at me, one of her eyes bloody and dark, but the other the color of the expanse of the sky with touches of gray and green. In her eye, I saw the world as it turned, life as it grew and decayed, I saw myself, though I never really knew who that was. Then she smiled faintly and she leaned heavily against me, as I watched the colors of the Earth fade from her eyes. 

Ch4 “Human” 

Year after year passed as I watched the humans from afar, as butterflies and bees, as dolphins and ducks, as eagles and elk. They began building castles and kingdoms, spreading across every inch of the land, cutting through forests and seas, traversing deserts and rainforests. There became a point where there was no one place I had ever lived where they had not touched. They frequently fought each other, wars and murder over sometimes very trivial events. Soon, they chose to no longer fight with stones and rope, but then steel and leather, then machines that could kill dozens within seconds. It truly is a marvel. 

Hundreds of thousands of years I had lived and only in this past couple thousand did their civilization begin to grow exponentially. From building intricate stone monuments, they built more structures and temples of stone and clay. It felt as if every new lifetime, they too, had once again evolved. 

Less than a few hundred years later, their chittering became written in stone, then on paper, then in books. They created art and intricate forms of violence, their ancient stories now stored forever in their archives. They adopted certain types of animals as companions they carried alongside them in everyday life. I became the prized cat of a pharaoh, the loyal steed of a Viking, a lone wolf by the side of a nomadic boy. I had stayed by the human’s sides all throughout their history. It was beautiful and terrible all at once and I wanted more of it. I wanted to become part of it.

Soon came the smoky buildings and contained lightning, where creation failed to cease. Their lives became utterly complicated and full, so unlike that of any other animal. Later came metal tablets and noisy machines that lit up the world and silence was precious. Intelligence became a commodity. My forests shrunk and the plants and animals I had seen throughout my lives were all gone and passed. The longer I lived, the more the human’s world became part of my own. It was something new and strange and I wanted to experience it from the inside, no longer a passive observer. 

Perhaps it was time for me to join them.

–

Corrina Chan has always been invested in the world of reading and writing. She wrote her first short story at six years old and hasn’t stopped since. Years later, her dream of becoming an author hasn’t diminished and she plans to publish many more stories to share with the world.