Imagination and A Monster Chapter 4.1

It starts watching the hunters that venture into the forest instead of avoiding them.

They don’t come here as often anymore, not since power returned to the city, but every now and then, a few of them still come to look for game, or to teach their children how to hunt, reminding them that at any given point in time, another disaster could happen again, and they might have to hunt instead of rely on food being brought to them.

Trauma educates, clearly. They’re earning their teeth again. 

As the weeks roll on, however, they start to lose that urgency in the way they teach, and the children grow lax on their understanding of why they have to learn. It stops becoming a matter of survival, and eventually turns into a competition for bragging points. The young people who come by the forest grow arrogant, grow boisterous, eager to show off to their friends.

And the creature watches as it all happens, waiting, biding its time. The deer’s body tries to age the way it would have if it hadn’t been unfortunate enough to encounter the creature, but as it is still currently in use, the creature searches into its biology, discarding harmful organisms, pushing on cells to divide the way they have when it first found it, making sure that it never got sick or aged a day since it’s found it. It’s a matter of looting around and turning some switches on, for it, and so while the days turn to weeks and the weeks turn to months, and the months turn to years, the creature and the deer stay, wandering the forest, watching and waiting for the humans to grow naive again.

The creature learns as much as it can about every human that goes into the forest, listening to their conversations with rapt attention, and decides that the young hunter who lives on his own and whose parents died in a recent storm would be a prime target. Nobody would look for him should he go missing, and the creature doesn’t need any other humans with concern for friends getting in the way of plans, so he’d do nicely.

He’s taken up hunting weekly as of late - years ago, his father had shown him the ropes, and he’d been old enough to understand why his father had been insistent on teaching him that he’d listened intently - likely to keep his mind off of his parents’ deaths from the hurricane that had hit town and collapsed several houses. He used to come here with friends. As per his recent trips, he’s been alone, and he spends more time staring off into the distance than hunting, sitting in the forest until dark, or until he realizes what he’s been doing and decides to go back home. 

It’s not like he’s doing much with his life anyway.

When he comes into the forest on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, he sets up three rabbit traps, hands moving from memory even though he’s already starting to space out. There’s bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his cheeks are gaunt. He doesn’t even look like he should be outside right now.

The creature treads lightly as it approaches from behind him, while he’s busy letting his mind wander and he methodically sets up his traps. It almost holds its breath as it comes to stand behind him. It has to be careful. It can’t just knock the human out, or it’ll risk killing the stupid thing, and with how weak the creature is, it’s in no shape to restore its body if some chunks get ripped off.

It puts a hoof on the human’s back and rushes forward, surging from its cozy place, tucked into the deer’s very being, to fill up the young man’s lungs, expanding into his heart, his intestines, into every part of his body. It feels the human’s panic as he realizes that something is wrong, like he’s drowning on dry land and it’s not just his chest filling up with water, but every single part of him, but the creature shoves him back with the ease of something who’s done this time and time again. 

When it opens its eyes, it’s in a human body. It takes in a breath. Its chest rattles, and it coughs, disgusted and disappointed. 

Although it shouldn’t really expect much. It had chosen a depressed fucker for a body.

The deer is staring at it when it stands and turns around, testing out exactly how tall it stands and how its limbs feel. The animal seems to realize that it’s gone now, and that it’s gotten its body back.

“You’ll live,” the creature says, and frowns at the way this human mouth is incapable of forming the syllables of its native tongue. “Consider it a gift for housing me for years. I’m feeling generous.”

The deer looks up at it, for a few more seconds, and then it bolts, understanding just what it’s said. 

The creature laughs, and then coughs. Stupid body. It’s going to have to do some work to actually get it back to some form of working order again, although that can be fixed easily with some food and rest. It’ll be a setback, but it’s waited for years already. What’s a few more?

Besides, it’s going to have to learn the rules of this newer human civilization, so there’s a while for it to go. No matter, this body would live forever if it wanted it to, as soon as it fixes it. 

It’s not like anyone else is going to expect the creature to go looking for all its other pieces, anyway. 

It has all the time in the world.