Short Stories

ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ

I'm not sure how to start this. I guess giving you a situation I was in yesterday that led me to be wanted for another murder. For those that come across my story in the future, the date is 1922, and I am in the lands between Mexico and Texas. Desert lands, sandy hills, lack of water, and bone-chilling weather at night were all as far as the eye could see. There are a few towns here and there, but usually, they're filled with Prospectors, outlaws, private workers, and bartenders to help you drink away your Sorrows for the right price. You have a problem with a man; you duel him. If you have a problem with the Sheriff, then kill him. You will have a few days till anyone shows up to check in with them or replace them. The best way to travel is by horse or train. Both will have you robbed and face down in the sand with your pockets out of your clothes. Maybe it's not as great as you think, but for a person of my traits, it's close enough to what I can call home.  

On to the situation I found myself in last night. I was stalking outside the town as I usually do, and I spied people coming and going from the saloon as they strumbled around till entering the brothel where they slept and woke to the massive headache they gave themselves. This was when I heard a scream from a young woman behind me a short ride away. I turned my horse and made my way to the sound and came across a wealthy couple being robbed. Two men, dirty from head to toe, had the older couple at gunpoint outside the carriage they had been in. Getting closer, I noticed their driver on the ground next to the horses. It's unfortunate what happened to the boy, but it's the way of life. If you say the wrong thing or do an improper action, you will regret it in the next few seconds; sometimes, you don't even get a shot at the mercy...See what I did there? Shot...Yeah, you're no fun. Dismounting from my horse, I approached the two vagrants from behind with my weapon drawn, a simple revolver rusted throughout. If my bullet didn't kill you, the infection most certainly would.

I assume the woman was not too bright. As soon as she saw me, she let out a blood-curdling scream and fell to her knees in fear. The two robbers turned around and saw me before their eyes grew wide in the light from the carriage lamps. And they hastily empty their shots into the air and ground around me, nearly missing all 12 images. Two hit me, once in the leg and another in the arm. I groaned in pain and lost control. I heard their screams as I chewed on their bones, tearing their flesh from them till they both lay on the ground as coyotes had got to them. I tend to try not to lose control, but it happens from time to time. Instead of the couple thanking me for their life being saved, they screamed in fear and climbed onto each other to get in the carriage. They slammed the door and yelled, "go away demon! We wish to make no deal with you. Our souls are our own!" I looted the two vagrants and left; soon enough, there were posters of me wanted dead or alive with a bounty of 300 dollars. I assume that is possible thanks to the wealthy couple using their own money. Taking one as a souvenir, they, on average, get my human form pretty well, and it is a free drawing of myself, so I can't complain too much other than the wanted dead part. So like always, I leave the town not to return.

This is normal for me as humans see me as an unholy monster. I could save children and puppies from a burning town hall and be loved till one second of my inhuman form being seen, all I have done is forgotten, and I am suddenly the enemy. To describe my barbaric condition, I would have to say it looks like a twisted shadow with teeth and tentacles all over it. However, in my human form, a long brown blanket of stubble coated my chin, short brown hair with wisps hanging from all directions, deep brown eyes, unnaturally white teeth, and a dark tanned skin tone with hair all over my body. I'm not sure what I am exactly, I'm not for sure. I try to do the right thing, protect the weak and rescue the needy. Instead, I am hated, feared, cast out, and Wanderer forever to walk these lands till I lay down and sleep for the last time. To explain how I didn't die to the bullets, well, I didn't pass, at least not that easily; the shots were absorbed by my body when I snapped and killed those poor robbers. They may have done wrong, but they didn't deserve what I did to them. I wished those bullets would do the trick and end this never-ending suffering of being the outcast and the abomination as someone once screamed at me..even after I saved their little girl from a train wreck being injured in the process.