Chương 7: Chapter 6: No Turning Back

I stood in front of the freezer, the door hanging open. Cold air spilled over my bare feet. I stared at the shelves, waiting for an answer that wasn't coming. A bag of frozen vegetables wasn't going to tempt a predator. My eyes drifted to a pack of chicken wings before I shook my head.

"Too small..." Eventually I reached for a frozen pork chop.

"If I were a giant monster," I muttered, "I'd probably pick pork." The sentence hung in the empty kitchen for a moment. It was a ridiculous thought. Then again, so was poisoning a monster with ibuprofen. I dropped the pork chop onto a plate and slid it into the microwave. A few minutes. Just enough for it to thaw without starting to cook. There wasn't much else to do but wait. I rested my hands on the counter, staring at the slowly changing numbers on the display.

I was waiting for a pork chop to defrost so I could poison a monster. If someone had told me two days ago that this would be my morning, I would've laughed in their face. The microwave beeped. The pork was still cold, but soft enough to work with. I left it there before heading for the medicine cabinet. Three boxes of the stuff. That's all I have. As far as I knew, there was no pharmacy around to replace them. I picked up one of the boxes and hesitated.

"Sorry, future me." I had no idea how much ibuprofen it took to kill something that size. Maybe this wouldn't even work. Maybe I'd just be throwing away medicine I might need tomorrow, in a week or even months from now. After a long moment, I pushed the thought aside and popped several tablets from their blister packs into my palm. I placed them on the cutting board and started crushing them with the back of a spoon until they turned into a fine white powder.

I started to sprinkle the powder over the pork before stopping.

"... That's obvious." If I could see it, there was no reason to assume the beast couldn't smell it. I took a knife and cut a deep slit into the side of the chop before carefully packing the powder inside. When I pressed the meat back together, only a few white grains escaped. I brushed them away with my thumb. I hope it's not picky with food. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Opening the front door still made every muscle in my body tense.

The beast's ears twitched before I even stepped outside. It lifted its head, yellow eyes locking onto me. I walked into the garden, stopping where I guessed the jelly-like barrier might be. It was impossible to tell for sure. Unless I wanted to keep waving my arms through empty air, every step was just an educated guess. When I judged I was close enough, I carefully tossed the pork a few feet toward the beast. It made a strange noise as it crossed the barrier. It landed with a soft thud. Good.

The creature didn't rush for it. It kept staring at me. I swallowed. Please don't make me come any closer. After what felt like a full minute, it finally looked away. It crept closer, sniffing cautiously before stopping just short of it. My heartbeat climbed with every second. Come on... It sniffed again. Nudged the chop with its snout. Another long pause. Then, almost casually, it picked it up and swallowed most of it in two bites. The moment it swallowed the last bite, I turned and headed back inside.

I slipped back inside and quietly closed the door. Now... I wait. Thirty minutes passed. Nothing. The beast wandered around the clearing as if nothing had happened, stopping every so often to glance toward the house. Maybe the dosage wasn't enough. Maybe ibuprofen simply didn't work on... whatever this thing was. Maybe I'd just wasted perfectly good meat. I kept watching. An hour after it had eaten the meat, the beast stumbled. At first I thought I'd imagined it. Then it stumbled again. It tried to steady itself.

Failed. Its front legs buckled first. Then the rest of its body followed. My stomach tightened. It wasn't the peaceful death I'd hoped for. Its breathing became ragged. Every breath came slower heavier than the last. Every few seconds, another whine escaped its throat. I could hear every one of them through the open window. I wished it would either recover... Or die. I'd expected killing it to be the hard part. Watching it die was worse. I glanced at the microwave clock.

Two hours since the beast had swallowed the pork. A few minutes since it'd last moved. I still didn't trust it. For all I knew, it was unconscious. Or waiting. I watched another five minutes. Still nothing. If it was dead... then every second mattered. I'd helped bleed chickens before. Once the heart stopped, there wasn't much point. If there was even the slightest chance it was still beating, I couldn't afford to hesitate. I let out a slow breath and headed for the kitchen.

The largest knife I owned rested in the wooden block beside the stove. It suddenly looked much smaller than I remembered. Each step outside felt harder than the last. If the knife had looked smaller than I remembered, the beast now looked even larger than it had a few hours earlier. It remained motionless. I couldn't tell if its chest was moving anymore. Maybe it was. Maybe I just wanted it to be. When I stood over it... I hesitated. Then I grabbed a handful of thick fur behind its head. It was warm. I swallowed.

"I'm sorry." The words left my mouth before I had a chance to think about them. I wasn't even sure who they were for. Before I could lose my nerve, I dragged the knife across its throat, then drove the blade in as deep as I could, trying to sever as many of the major blood vessels as possible. Warm blood spilled over my hands. More than I'd expected. The heart was still working. Dark. Thick. Red. For one stupid, irrational moment... I'd hoped it wouldn't be. Blue. Black. Yellow. Anything.

Anything that would prove it wasn't just another animal. Instead it bled exactly the way every mammal I'd ever seen bleed did. I turned away just in time. I threw up onto the grass. I stayed bent over for a long moment, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. When I finally looked past the animal I'd just killed, I froze. Had the tree line always been that far away? No... It hadn't.

"I don't have time for this." The words sounded hollow. If I left the animal here, something else would eventually find it. Burying it would only waste what might be weeks of food. That's assuming it was edible. I looked back at the body. I'd never butchered anything bigger than a chicken. I guess there was a first time for everything.