The creature was monstrous.
It was at least eight feet tall. Though the face resembled an almost angelic beauty, the rest of it's body was terribly deformed. It had claws, and talons. It also had no mid-section to speak of; only an exposed spinal column held together this great, walking abortion. I stared at it in disgust.
As the girl did battle with it- it attacked viciously. Whenever she got too close, it slapped at her. She would slam into the ground, stunned momentarily. And, when that attack didn't work, it would scream in what I assume was frustration, and hurl flames at the girl.
The girl- the nemesis of the creature, was amazing. She was nothing more than a mere slip of a girl, but she fought against the beast fervently. I watched her soft features contort in horror, agony, and something similar to pity.
Yes! I yelled. Keep fighting! Come on, honey, you can beat it! It's NOT A GOD!
I had watched this girl endure horrendous trials. I had been there when she fought the beast that was once Leonard Wolf, I raged with her when that prick of a "priest" said that the beasts hadn't been beasts at all, I had even cheered her on when she was attacked by the forces of her own mind.
I wasn't about to abandon her now.
Not when she was SO close...
Apparently, I had let my thoughts run away from me, for all of a sudden, it gave a high, keening shriek, and keeled over to the floor, dead.
She stands there for a moment; her fists clenched. I watched her bite her lip so hard that a thin line of blood ran down her chin.
Suddenly, she let loose a terrible howl of rage, and charged the creature. Screaming and enraged, she kicked at the creature. She kept at it for a few moments, and only stopped when she ran out of breath.
Panting heavily, she stumbled a few steps away from the creature. She stopped, and obviously tried to collect herself.
I heard her mutter almost forlornly. "Is this the end?"
Almost, baby, almost.
Her voice grew bitter. "I guess it's time to roll the credits." she snapped to the empty room.
Much to my surprise, she shifted emotions again. She began to weep; collapsing to the ground.
"Dad..." she sobbed. "Dad..." I had to lean in to hear her mewl, "Daddy..."
She stayed like that for a few minutes, sobbing almost hysterically. I watched, and cried silent tears with her. I wanted nothing more to take her in my arms and say everything was going to be alright, but I knew better.
As she collected herself, and stood up, an irrational rage surged through me.
There's no way that anyone was going to get away with this.
There was one more thing for me to do...
&&&&&&
Heather Mason stood in the Amusement Park, chuckling quietly to herself, and staring at the knife in her hands. She seemed transfixed by the glinting metal.
As the street lamp flares to life, it reflects off of Heather's eyes, casting an unusual reflection.
She smiled down at the man slumped on the bench. She rubbed her fingers on the knife, and held them to the light; staring at the red stains that now decorated them.
Had Douglas Cartland been alive, he would have heard the male voice that emanated from the blond girl's mouth. But Douglas Cartland would never hear anything again.
The voice purred acidly, "Nobody fucks with my baby girl."
: AUTHOR'S NOTES : This is version one of three- so, do you like it? And hey, put yourself in his place- wouldn't you be pissed off if you survived SH hell only to meet your maker at the hands of a glorified goon-monster years later? I'd be pissed too.
READ AND REVIEW!