Bearskin, Part Two
Bearskin, Part One
Thomas wasn't sure if it was still evening when he woke up. He also wasn't sure what to make of the strange figure looming over him. He couldn't tell if this person (if it were a person) was a man or a woman; its long, scraggly hair draped well past its shoulders and pooled onto the floor, forming a curtain around their body. One large, round eye peeked out from behind its hair, darker than anything Thomas had ever seen. A thin, weathered hand ran across the pelt before stopping over Thomas' own. It grinned.
The house suddenly grew cold, and Thomas dove further underneath the bearskin. "I-I didn't mean to," Thomas' voice was muffled underneath the pelt. The figure said nothing, just placed another bony hand over Thomas' and did not. Let. Go.
"It suits you, that bearskin." The figure croaked. Even its voice gave no indication of its gender.
"If this is your home, I'm sorry." Thomas said. "It's just that I was lost and the snow..." Thomas' voice died when the figure dug its thumbnail into his skin.
The figure shuffled closer to the bed, its toothy grin widening so much Thomas thought it would split its face in two. "And you thought it was fine to trespass into my home." The figure gave a breathy laugh. "You humans are so stupid. But, you're not as stupid as all the others I guess."
Thomas didn't want to think about what happened to the "others" the... creature mentioned. "But th-the storm--" He wished he hadn’t taken off his coat; he kept a knife in one of his pockets.
"Like it was supposed to." Its teeth glistened in the firelight. "A bit hard to draw you in without a reason. I don’t like working for my supper.”
Thomas tore himself away from the creature and sprung up from the bed to the opposite side of the room. Grabbing his coat, his hand dove into the pocket and drew the small pocket knife he carried with him before leaving John. It dawned on him that it would more than likely take a few well-placed stabs to actually do anything, but it was still better than nothing.
The creature shifted its position and stared at Thomas coolly, cocking its head at the weapon before grinning again. “You’re funny, you know that?”
“Don’t come any closer.” Thomas told himself that his voice did not waver. And again, just to make sure. He inched closer to the door, eyes never leaving the creature.
The figure laughed as it rose to full height, its head nearly brushing against the ceiling. “You believed me? Seriously? Do you think rotting meat makes maggots, too?”
Thomas felt his face grow hot and glowered. “T-that isn’t funny! What am I supposed to think when you look unnerving and say things like that?!”
“Oh I’m sorry,” the creature sighed. The figure grew smaller, plumper, until Thomas found himself looking at a shapely woman with long black hair and little else. She smiled seductively at him. “Is this better?” she purred.
Thomas’ eyes widened. “What are you?”
The woman stroked the bearskin as she rounded the table, always watching him. “A lot of things, really. Some days I’m like this, other days I’m a rabbit. Sometimes I like to dress up like a bear. Just to see what people would do.” She stopped right in front of Thomas, wrapping him up in the pelt and pulling him forward. “You should try it sometime.”
The knife clattered on the floor. Thomas tried to ignore the heat pooling in his stomach as he avoided the woman’s gaze. “I don’t have the ability to do... whatever it is you do.” He ignored her breasts pushing against his bare chest, her soft thigh trying to nudge apart his legs.
“But it’s so fun, watching everyone run around like headless pheasants.” She pouted. “You’d probably make a real cute one.”
“I doubt it.”
“Humor me.”
“I already have.” Thomas wasn’t sure if he was unnerved or annoyed by this woman. If she was a woman. He tried to take off the bearskin but found it somehow bonded to his skin, as if it were his own. She giggled as Thomas clawed at the pelt. Giggled. Thomas fell to his knees and screamed, feeling the fur wrap around his belly and thighs, the colors in his vision dulling, the sound of the crackling fire sharpening, the smell of the woman nearly overpowering him. He curled into a heap on the floor, guarding his head with huge, furry paws and growled.
The woman’s smell grew stronger as she bent over him, stroking his back. “It fits so nicely, doesn’t it?” She cooed. “The others never make it this far. They always go for the soup, and they’re no fun to play with unconscious.”
Thomas whined pitifully. She gathered Thomas into her arms. “Don’t be like that! Let’s just play one short game and if you win, I’ll change you back. I’ve even made it easy for you. Do you like that?” If she could understand him, she didn’t wait for an answer. “Of course you like that. All you have to do is find someone who’ll let you in their house. As a bear that is. And you can’t tell them who you are, because that will spoil the fun.”
Thomas struggled out of her hold and made for the door. When she didn’t grab at him again, he pawed for the handle. It was much harder doing everything now, being this short. “And one more thing,” the woman said. Thomas froze. “You only have three moons.”
#
As soon as she opened the door, Thomas bounded out of the house and into the snow, screaming bloody murder in the hopes of that someone would hear and save him from this demented woman. Only once had he ran a great deal did he stop to consider the woman’s ultimatum. There was no way she could have been serious. People don’t turn into animals on a whim, if at all. It wasn’t normal. But she had already proven to him three times that she wasn’t normal, and three times she wasn’t human.
Perhaps it was just some elaborate fever dream he was having due to the cold, Thomas thought. Perhaps he’s really just nearly frozen to death at the base of some tree or where ever, and his brain is just entertaining him for one last time before he dies of exposure. That sounds about right. And perhaps he should be more careful where he walks, dream or no, instead of stepping blindly into snares and getting trussed up like a Christmas turkey. That sounds about right, too.
Thomas wasn't sure if it was still evening when he woke up. He also wasn't sure what to make of the strange figure looming over him. He couldn't tell if this person (if it were a person) was a man or a woman; its long, scraggly hair draped well past its shoulders and pooled onto the floor, forming a curtain around their body. One large, round eye peeked out from behind its hair, darker than anything Thomas had ever seen. A thin, weathered hand ran across the pelt before stopping over Thomas' own. It grinned.
The house suddenly grew cold, and Thomas dove further underneath the bearskin. "I-I didn't mean to," Thomas' voice was muffled underneath the pelt. The figure said nothing, just placed another bony hand over Thomas' and did not. Let. Go.
"It suits you, that bearskin." The figure croaked. Even its voice gave no indication of its gender.
"If this is your home, I'm sorry." Thomas said. "It's just that I was lost and the snow..." Thomas' voice died when the figure dug its thumbnail into his skin.
The figure shuffled closer to the bed, its toothy grin widening so much Thomas thought it would split its face in two. "And you thought it was fine to trespass into my home." The figure gave a breathy laugh. "You humans are so stupid. But, you're not as stupid as all the others I guess."
Thomas didn't want to think about what happened to the "others" the... creature mentioned. "But th-the storm--" He wished he hadn’t taken off his coat; he kept a knife in one of his pockets.
"Like it was supposed to." Its teeth glistened in the firelight. "A bit hard to draw you in without a reason. I don’t like working for my supper.”
Thomas tore himself away from the creature and sprung up from the bed to the opposite side of the room. Grabbing his coat, his hand dove into the pocket and drew the small pocket knife he carried with him before leaving John. It dawned on him that it would more than likely take a few well-placed stabs to actually do anything, but it was still better than nothing.
The creature shifted its position and stared at Thomas coolly, cocking its head at the weapon before grinning again. “You’re funny, you know that?”
“Don’t come any closer.” Thomas told himself that his voice did not waver. And again, just to make sure. He inched closer to the door, eyes never leaving the creature.
The figure laughed as it rose to full height, its head nearly brushing against the ceiling. “You believed me? Seriously? Do you think rotting meat makes maggots, too?”
Thomas felt his face grow hot and glowered. “T-that isn’t funny! What am I supposed to think when you look unnerving and say things like that?!”
“Oh I’m sorry,” the creature sighed. The figure grew smaller, plumper, until Thomas found himself looking at a shapely woman with long black hair and little else. She smiled seductively at him. “Is this better?” she purred.
Thomas’ eyes widened. “What are you?”
The woman stroked the bearskin as she rounded the table, always watching him. “A lot of things, really. Some days I’m like this, other days I’m a rabbit. Sometimes I like to dress up like a bear. Just to see what people would do.” She stopped right in front of Thomas, wrapping him up in the pelt and pulling him forward. “You should try it sometime.”
The knife clattered on the floor. Thomas tried to ignore the heat pooling in his stomach as he avoided the woman’s gaze. “I don’t have the ability to do... whatever it is you do.” He ignored her breasts pushing against his bare chest, her soft thigh trying to nudge apart his legs.
“But it’s so fun, watching everyone run around like headless pheasants.” She pouted. “You’d probably make a real cute one.”
“I doubt it.”
“Humor me.”
“I already have.” Thomas wasn’t sure if he was unnerved or annoyed by this woman. If she was a woman. He tried to take off the bearskin but found it somehow bonded to his skin, as if it were his own. She giggled as Thomas clawed at the pelt. Giggled. Thomas fell to his knees and screamed, feeling the fur wrap around his belly and thighs, the colors in his vision dulling, the sound of the crackling fire sharpening, the smell of the woman nearly overpowering him. He curled into a heap on the floor, guarding his head with huge, furry paws and growled.
The woman’s smell grew stronger as she bent over him, stroking his back. “It fits so nicely, doesn’t it?” She cooed. “The others never make it this far. They always go for the soup, and they’re no fun to play with unconscious.”
Thomas whined pitifully. She gathered Thomas into her arms. “Don’t be like that! Let’s just play one short game and if you win, I’ll change you back. I’ve even made it easy for you. Do you like that?” If she could understand him, she didn’t wait for an answer. “Of course you like that. All you have to do is find someone who’ll let you in their house. As a bear that is. And you can’t tell them who you are, because that will spoil the fun.”
Thomas struggled out of her hold and made for the door. When she didn’t grab at him again, he pawed for the handle. It was much harder doing everything now, being this short. “And one more thing,” the woman said. Thomas froze. “You only have three moons.”
#
As soon as she opened the door, Thomas bounded out of the house and into the snow, screaming bloody murder in the hopes of that someone would hear and save him from this demented woman. Only once had he ran a great deal did he stop to consider the woman’s ultimatum. There was no way she could have been serious. People don’t turn into animals on a whim, if at all. It wasn’t normal. But she had already proven to him three times that she wasn’t normal, and three times she wasn’t human.
Perhaps it was just some elaborate fever dream he was having due to the cold, Thomas thought. Perhaps he’s really just nearly frozen to death at the base of some tree or where ever, and his brain is just entertaining him for one last time before he dies of exposure. That sounds about right. And perhaps he should be more careful where he walks, dream or no, instead of stepping blindly into snares and getting trussed up like a Christmas turkey. That sounds about right, too.