there's a beast up the mountain

and he's sharpening his teeth

so sharpen yours

you cannot be beauty

in the jaws of a beast

People disappear from this village often. They say they were devoured by a beast.

When I was a child and first arrived here, other children claimed they saw him. There mothers and fathers and pastors used its legend to keep their offspring and church ekklesia inline. I have never been very scared of it though. I'm not sure I believe it's true.

I have never felt anything about what they adored either. I have never seen a mans eyes the way other women in the village do. It does not matter what village I'm in, or new man I meet. I have plenty of suitors, but the last thing I want is to marry. I couldn't tell you why, I just feel incapable of it. That doesn’t mean I want to stay here either. This is not a home, it is a temporary shelter. Me and my father left Paris when my mother died of the black death. Her the half of the Parisians I used to walked the same streets as. Her body was just another one on the wagon for the man yelling "bring out your dead!" Buried in a giant pit with the rest.

I live with my father in a small cottage, bordering on a shack, on the outskirts of town. He is a small man with facial hair like one large dandelion. Most of our money goes to the pen that houses three malnourished looking sheep. They are odd souls, with ratty and patchy hair, but I love them nonetheless. Now we are somewhere in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the south of France. Where people hunt for beasts, and burn them ritualistically in the streets. Except, they never catch anything that I'd call a beast. Just wolves, and deer, and animals with psychical differences.

Howllllllll

I jerk my head behind me, slamming closed my book inside the protective circle I had drawn in the dirt. I don’t draw it because of the beast. I draw it to keep out disease, wolves, melancholy, grief. I see a wolf brush through the trees unbothered. He stops. We make eye contact. He seems so meek, and cowers at my sight. Why would a wolf be afraid of me?

This is a good a time as any for me to come back to the real world and venture into town. I have things to do. Strawberries and bread to buy. I pass between two houses on the edge of the forest to get onto main street.

I do my mundane tasks. The strawberries blood dripping under my nails as I grip too tightly. I get the bread. The people here are nice. Quiet. Bloodthirsty. I felt like maybe I was lusting for blood too under the surface since I got here. Now is the part of my trip, where I slip through alleyways and behind trees to avoid Gaston. The man who has been convinced since I arrived in this town, that we would be wed one day.

Except, today I do not see him…yet.

A giant distressed red wagon rides into town. Sending grime and horse feces like lace across the rims of women's dresses. Including my own. It’s Gaston, and his pack of hunters. The town is so convinced of the Beasts existence that the church orders these crusades, and offers a heavy bounty in return. These men are revered in town. Akin to knights.

My heart sinks when I see what is in the wagon, as a man opens the backs hinges. It is the wolf I saw a mere thirty minutes earlier. The same pitiful look on his face, the same meekness, except frozen for eternity. People crowd around close enough to witness the animal, but far away enough to escape if he reanimates. I approach, with my hand out. I press against the grey fur on his forehead. I can still feel a pulse of its body heat. Gaston swats my hand away, and shouts.

“Take your hands off that devil!"

"That is not a devil Gaston, that is a wolf!"

"The devil disguises himself in many forms."

"So do you Gaston" I somehow found the audacity to say

His fellow hunters call me grotesque names reserved for sportily women under their breaths. Gaston belts out his version of empathy "Gentlemen, she's just a lady, she does not know how to slay a beast. We shan't expect her to lose her maternal instinct in the presence of one."

A lanky hunter, the skinniest of the group, yet the most vocal, jumps atop the wagon. One boot on the wolfs carcass, raising his fist in the air with a bloody arrow. Spit spraying from his mouth like a shoreline as he shouts.

"WE HAVE CAUGHT ANOTHER DEVIL IN THE DISGUISE OF THE BODY OF A WOLF

LIKELY SENT FROM BEAZZULBUB HIMSELF

THE BURNING SHALL COMMENCE TONIGHT AT SUNSET

WHAT SAY YOU GOOD PEOPLE?"

I hear a piercing cry from deep within the woods. I cover my ears, and bend nearly to the ground, grating my teeth.

One middle aged woman with children attached to her side begins to chant. "KILL THE BEAST!"

The village people chant along in an almost trance like state of vengeance "KILL THE BEAST!"

The piercing noise finally stops, I get up, nobody else appears to have heard the noise. They just continue to chant. Except one woman. A woman with a clean updo and a light brown dress. She walks between two houses, and disappears. A few moments later, I do this myself, making my way home. Chants of "KILL THE BEAST" grow quiet, but still heard. I am almost home, when I see the woman with the clean updo walking through grotesque mud with pure white eyes. She didn't have them before. Did she? I slowly make my way to her, as she keeps walking on, but keeping a large space between us.

Hello…hello madmasell?

she doesn't even acknowledge me.

"are, are you alright? where are you going? you should make sure you will he back before the burning."

my concern for her overp[owerrs my fears of her empty eyes, and I stomp up to her, waving my hand in front of top her face. she looks at me. a chill runs from my fingernails to the pit of my stomach. I cannot speak or move from fear, but she slowly turns away and walks on.

I keep walking until it is dark, right by her side. I debated going to consult someone about her condition, but I knew I would lose her why the time I got back into town. I could smell the smoke from the burning taking place currently. I hear shouts of the people down the hill, who would never be pacified no matter how many ashes they burned. I'm not sure how I got so far that I was looking down upon the village. I had eaten half of the strawberries already. I hear footsteps, but not ones of a human being, ones much heavier. The woman stops. I keep walking, until I realize she has stopped. Someone…something emerges from the darkness. A human like body, but a different species entirely. Its jaw widens so much, I can see remains of its previous victims. Human remains.

art credit: fragment of a tapestry or wall hanging by Upper Rhenish