The Winter Creek Beast (5 page)

Chapter 8

Not sure why he chose the access road to the old mines, Jay pulled his Jeep off to the side of the road when he reached the “road closed” barricades. The mines used to be a hangout for the local teenagers before a few of them fell inside and were seriously injured. Thankful no one was killed, the townspeople decided to close the roads in hope future generations would abide by the law. Jay knew no one paid any attention to them as there were indents in the gravel shoulder where he came to a stop from the blockades being moved. At any other time he may have done something, but as it stood he had a much bigger problem to deal with.

He heard the roar as soon as he shut off the engine and opened the door to get out. He let out a scoffing breath and grabbed the shotgun from its place between the seats.

He thought about calling Melvin and the others to come with him, but he didn’t want to risk their lives. This was his fight and if he failed, well, he’d worry about that when the time came. With any luck, he’d be able to pick off the animal before things got too out of hand.

As he made his way along the road towards where he was sure the roar had come from he began to wonder why he’d been so stupid to make this personal.

I doubt I’ll get a shot off before that damned animal rips my head off and shits down my neck. What a fantastic way to leave my mark on the world. ‘Here lies an idiot. He died being stupid for following a feeling
.

While on his personal tirade, he closed the distance to the mine opening in a few minutes. Unsure of whether he had the right one, a large rock being hurled at him and striking a tree a couple of feet to his left answered his question. He didn’t pay attention to the following roar as he ducked behind a tree and gripped the shotgun.

Sonofabitch
!

Jay pivoted to fire around the tree but another rock slamming into his hiding place changed his mind.

He cursed his decision not to have the others with him while struggling to figure out what to do next. Maybe it was for the best he did come alone. At least it’d make it easier for the creature. A laugh at his joke escaped from him as a loud thud sounded a few feet on the other side of the tree. Knowing it wasn’t a rock, he spun and raised the shotgun to fire only to be greeted with a snarling ape-like face. Before he could pull the trigger, the beast grabbed the shotgun and twisted, throwing Jay twenty feet to the side and into a pile of rotting logs and brush.

The beast held the shotgun in its left hand and looked at it in an attempt to understand what it was. After a moment of frustration at its failure, he slammed it against a large rock, breaking the stock and bending the barrel before deciding to keep hold of it. Furious and lost within his uncontrollable rage, the beast turned to face the man he knew to be something more.

As soon as he landed, Jay felt something break. It took his a second to realize it wasn’t part of him, but the splintered wood knocked the air from his lungs and sent pain shooting through his body. A gurgling scream came as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. Knowing he failed, he managed to roll onto his side to face the bigfoot. He refused to die without looking into the beast’s eyes when it struck him. Seeing his shotgun destroyed and the animal’s hate-filled eyes settle on him did little to give him hope.

“Come on, you fuck!” He didn’t know where the taunt came from, but it helped to steel his courage for what was to come. The bigfoot took a pair of steps towards him before stopping and taking one back. Not knowing what made the animal stop, Jay looked behind him but nothing was there. Another roar brought his attention back to the bigfoot.

The few seconds the beast paused gave him time to regain some control over the pain coursing through him and he pushed himself to his knees before a coughing fit overcame him. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he knew he didn’t have long but something was different. The bigfoot still didn’t charge him, as if it was waiting for him to do something.

“What are you waiting for? Come on! Don’t get soft on me now!” Jay knew what he said, but his voice came out more like a growl than words. He didn’t understand what was happening until he looked down at himself.

After his landing, Jay’s right hand went right to the bundle of hair in his breast pocket and grasped it in a death grip. The hair disappeared as it was drawn into his body to begin the transformation. While he struggled to move, his body was shifting and growing with gray hair pushing its way through the pores of his skin. When he spit the mouthful of blood, he didn’t realize he did so from an elongated snout.

By the time he realized what he was becoming the bigfoot lost its fear of him and charged with the broken shotgun in its hands. The beast brought the broken weapon down with both hands in an attempt to crush Jay’s skull, but a pair of furry hands caught the bigfoot by its wrists.

The power coursing through Jay was something he never thought possible. Even the previously blurry movements of the bigfoot were slow compared to what he knew he could do
.

I’m a skin-walker! Damnit, Grandfather! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?

Despite being distracted by his anger towards not being told about his ability, Jay caught the bigfoot’s wrists with ease. In a heartbeat, all the anger and frustration Jay felt from the scenes of the beast’s murders surged within him. Snarling his own challenge, he lifted the bigfoot’s hands above it before letting go with one clawed hand and swiped it across the bigfoot’s chest.

Blood erupted from the wound and the bigfoot howled in pain, but Jay felt no pity as he struck again and again. After five strikes the bigfoot fell to the ground at his feet and began to change.

To Jay’s horror, the bigfoot shrank in size until it was no bigger than a young teenage boy. The boy looked up at him with tear-filled eyes in the middle of a blood-covered face. After three centuries of being imprisoned as a beast, the boy uttered his final words. “Thank you.”

*****

The following days saw a sense of normalcy return to Winter Creek as stories about a mysterious creature terrorizing the townspeople spread like wildfire. To their credit, most of the townspeople refused to believe the tales but they weren’t above using them to make some coin from the occasional tourist hoping to find the mysterious Winter Creek Beast.

Whenever the conversation came up around him, Jay would politely excuse himself. No one paid him any attention as people preferred to hear the story from one of the town’s renowned tellers of tall tales. He figured he’d let them have their fun instead of telling them about the man that’d been enslaved by a curse.

Epilogue

Every year on the date of the man’s death, Jay made it a point to return to the mine shaft and the grave of the man he killed. He remained the only one that knew what had happened to the famed Winter Creek Beast. Since the beast’s disappearance, professional and amateur Cryptozoologists visited Winter Creek year-round in an effort to locate the mysterious bigfoot monster. While he didn’t have much of a use for them himself, they did help the local economy. Still, the weight of what he did remained.

The guilt of killing someone threatened to overwhelm him at first, but in the end, the only thing for him to do was accept he did what he had to. It didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful for the opportunity to defend the people of his small town, it just required a little getting used to.

As he knelt next to the grave, Jay set a small bundle of flowers on top of the stones and let out a deep breath. The man’s final words had been to thank Jay for ending his torment. It wasn’t lost on the Sheriff that he probably owed a debt of thanks to the man himself. With that thought fresh in his mind, Jay pulled a metal flask from the inside of his jacket pocket and saluted the burial site.

“To strangers becoming friends, and friends becoming strangers.”

He took a swig of the whiskey and stared at the pile of stones. As was his habit every year, he allowed his mind to wander in the hope he’d somehow discover who the man really was.

About the Author

CP Bialois’ love of words began as a small child when his father bought a stack of comics to teach him the reading skills he wasn’t mastering in class. Before long, he was reading at an advanced level and teachers were shaking their heads over the unconventional method.

Growing up in the ‘80s, Bialois was exposed to even further inspiration through the popular cartoons of the day. Transformers, in particular, sparked his imagination and led to him put his first stories on paper. After a decades-long break, Bialois began getting back into the world of writing by joining some role-playing groups. These groups taught him about fleshing out characters and building worlds that stuck with him as he began writing short stories for fun.

To his surprise, Bialois would end up completing his first full-length novel, 
Call of Poseidon
, in 2007. Armed with a finished product, Bialois began working on another book, 
The Sword and the Flame
, unsure of what he would ultimately be doing with either. As with many others in the later part of the first decade of the 2000’s, he found himself out of work and looking into new options. Over the next two years, he would spend most days at the library, completing an additional half-dozen works.

Six books later, Bialois is planning for the release of many more and enjoying the feedback he receives. The up-and-coming author takes inspiration from favorites such as Steven King, Tom Clancy and Sue Grafton. His love of history, fantasy and old monster movies has also served as a muse.

When he’s not busy writing or chatting on his social networks, Bialois enjoys watching hockey and football as well as Metallica DVDs. He currently lives with his wife- a fellow writer- and their fur children. CP Bialois is also active in several South Florida writing groups, as well as the online writer community, and the Florida Writers Association.

You can find CP through his website at
cpbialois.webs.com
.