Outskirts Press, INC.

Sometimes the most terrifying monsters are ourselves.

Sara Basler, That’s me or it use to be, now I’m not sure of anything. I am a monster not good nor bad, dead or alive. I am what your children fear is under their beds. I haven’t always been this way, once I was human. Ahh! To be human, before all the experiments and pain. Not that I am hideous or deformed. I look perfectly natural but I am far from it. My hair is light brown and silky, my eyes are like colorful jewels.



Since the experiments my eyes have taken strange colors and I can clearly see the bugs in the grass below my balcony even though it is night time and there is only a half moon out tonight. My body has also changed since the experiments. I am five seven and have muscles, but not unattractively big like some would imagine. I can run fast enough to keep up with traffic on the streets. I can take off and be at my full speed in about five seconds traveling at speeds of thirty-five to forty miles an hour.



My age? Well I’m not sure I have one anymore. I feel age is measured by the living afraid of dying, keeping track of every second trying to determine how much time they have left. Although since it hasn’t been that long since I was fully human I guess it is safe to say that I am still seventeen.



I have no family that is why I was chosen. I am a runaway with nothing left. Abused and tortured by my stepfather I had no where to turn. My mother too was abused when she was young, but since he treated her like a queen she didn’t dare mess that up by listening to her only daughter. Now the time for tears is over.



Why am I telling you this? I feel it is my responsibility to let the innocent know of the approaching danger and stop it along with myself if that is possible. Since my transformation I have been poisoned and shot twice at close range. Each healed without a scare or side effect within an hour. My craving for plasma is the worst part since I haven’t the power to separate it myself I have to take the whole package plasma, blood, life and all!

Simultaneously side by side they bounced forward. I leapt straight up in the air grabbing the beams in the ceiling tucking my legs up close, I twisted as I let go pulled my knife clutching it with both hands landing directly on one of their backs plunging my knife into the neck of the beast. It fell throwing me into its partner. I bounced off its rear end hitting the floor. Then as if it was part horse it stopped and kicked me with its hind legs. I went half flying and scraping against the concrete floor. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe both of his paws covered the whole front part of my body from my chest to my waste.

It turned knowing I was it’s only real challenge. Once I was gone it could just round up the others possibly without killing them. Besides It was probably related to the one I killed. My mob, my gang, fight together or die is what I told them. With their leader down I guess they figured without me what chance would they have? Together they leapt on the back of the monster. Shaking like a wet dog, it sent them all flying.

I recognized the first man that I saved. He landed on the side of the fallen werewolf pulling the knife from its corps, he stood. “Come on!” He shouted.

This got the giant mutts attention, it charged. The man turned and ran he leapt onto a table. Just as a monstrous claw reached out to slice him in half he flipped backwards onto the wolfs back. Recreating my first stunt he brought the knife up and thrust it down hard but this wolf was smart, possibly learned from its partners fatal mistake. It shifted its weight throwing the guy to the ground. The knife scraped its side drawing a drop of blood. I still found it hard to move but I felt the healing proses taking place. My brave little solider was frantically scooting back away from the enraged beast till his back hit the wall. Large blood thirsty jaws advanced on the doomed solider, my temporary savior. His foot shot up connecting with the chin of the shaggy abomination. Its head snapped back as It swung one massive paw. He turned to face his doom as it knocked him clear across the room. The shaggy beast retracted its paw with a howl. My knife was jabbed deep to the handle the tip protruded out of the other side. It clamped its jaws around the handle and pulled the blade free. Whipping its head it sent the knife flying between the rolls of tables. Everyone went for the knife not just because it was the only weapon but it was more like my knife was their holy sword the only thing that could save them from death. It had already brought down one terrible beast and wounded another they believed whoever held it had the power. And why not believe it? They are already fighting mythical creatures.