The Beast
Aurora's pov
I stood outside our cottage, a basket of the dry laundry which I had taken out moments ago was pressed against my hip as I stared up the sky and watched the moon began its slow ascent over the pines. The village was already indoors, their doors barred and windows shuttered.
Full moon nights always made the villagers uneasy because we have a savage beast lurking in the woods.
I exhaled through my nose, trying to match the steadiness of the mountains that circled us. Fear was contagious here. And if I wasn't careful, I'd catch it too.
"Aurora! Stop staring at the trees and bring the laundry inside, it's getting cold," my mama called from the doorway.
I smiled despite the heavy feeling in my chest. "Coming, Mama," I yelled.
Our cottage was small but warm, herbs dangled from rafters and the faint scent of rosemary and honey clinging to the walls. Mama took a seat at the table and began sorting through roots while the fire crackled behind her. Her hands trembled slightly her illness always worsened with the cold but she never complained.
"What were you doing outside?" my papa asked standing by the hearth.
"I was taking out the laundry," I replied.
"You could've done it earlier on. You know it's dangerous to be outside," he said, his voice held that familiar mix of worry and disapproval.
"Don't worry, papa," I said, setting the basket down. "Nothing is going to drag me away."
His jaw ticked. "Don't joke about that, Aurora."
Silence fell for a beat too long. Mama's eyes softened with apology, though she wasn't the one who needed to say it.
I swallowed. "I'm sorry."
But part of me wasn't.
Part of me was tired of living in fear of a creature no one had ever actually seen.
The so called beast the entire village feared. The Lycan King.
The monster of Blackpine.
A hundred names for one phantom.
Papa shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "You know what they say he becomes restless during the full moon. Better safe than sorry."
They. The elders in the village assumed a lot of things about this so called beast but most contradictory.
Most rooted in superstition.
But...I couldn't deny that tonight did feel strange.
My little brother, Milo, appeared, his brown curls bouncing as he ran toward me. "Aurora, look! I fixed the carving knife!" He held it up proudly then nearly dropped it when Papa snatched it from his hands.
"You shouldn't be touching this," Papa scolded, tucking it away. "it's dangerous."
"Why?" Milo pouted. "The Beast is coming here and we have to be prepared."
Papa nodded." Yes he is coming but you're still too young to be handling a knife, you could get hurt and there's no way I'm going to let you near the Beast."
Milo huffed. "I'm not a child, I'm old enough to go up against the Beast."
Mama and I burst out laughing and as for papa he shook his head, exhaling.
The tension eased as we sat at the table. Milo was seated beside me, mama across me and papa at the head of the table.
I took a bite of the stew and stared outside at the darkness wandering if this so called beast exists or not.
"Is everything okay Aurora?" Mama's voice cut through the air, pulling me from my thoughts.
I nodded my head, taking another bite of the stew.
"You sure?" she pressed. "You don't seem yourself."
I hesitated. "It feels strange."
Papa paused mid-spoonful. "What feels strange?"
"Like..." I searched for the right word.
"I feel something isn't right.... Like something's going to happen."
The fire snapped loudly, as if reacting.
Papa set his spoon down. "The elders think he would come tonight, they said he's looking for something but they aren't sure what it is."
I exhaled. "I wasn't talking about the beast and do you really think there's a beast out there in the woods?" I asked.
"Because if they were a beast don't you think he would have showed himself a long time ago and if there was a beast, we all wouldn't be alive. He would have killed us all."
"What if she's right?" Mama asked, her gaze flickering to papa. "What if there isn't a beast?"
"There is," he said. "I've seen one, a long time ago when I was little."
I blinked, staring at papa stunned.
"Really? You did see it?"
He nodded.
"And you never told me this? Why?" Mama asked.
Papa exhaled. "It was a long time ago and enough about the Beast, finish your dinner and go to bed and Aurora...." papa paused, his gaze meeting mine.
"You and your brother are staying inside tonight," he said, his gaze flickered from milo to me.
"I wasn't planning to sneak out," I said lightly.
His brows drew together, deepening the lines across his forehead. "Aurora, I'm being serious, promise me you will not sneak out of the house and meet those friends of yours."
I didn't like the urgency in his voice.
Still, I nodded. "I promise."
He exhaled, relieved.
Hours later, after the dishes were washed and everyone had gone to bed, I lay awake staring at the wooden beams above my head. The wind pressed against the walls, rattling them like bones.
Something was coming.
I could feel it like a tug in my chest. A pull toward the forest.
Toward the unknown.
Toward something that felt... inevitable.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the sensation.
But the wind whispered again low, deliberate, almost a voice.
And even though I was safe inside my small cottage, wrapped beneath wool blankets and my parents only a room away...
I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was the last night my life would ever be normal and that something had found me.
Or worse-
that something was coming for me.
_________________________________________________________________
The bell tower in our village only rang twice a year-once for the Harvest Festival, and once for danger.
Tonight, it tolled with a slow, mournful rhythm that vibrated through the floorboards of our cottage. My pulse raced.
Papa was already at my door, jaw clenched. "They're calling a village meeting."
Mama frowned, standing behind him, clutching her shawl around her shoulders. "At this hour? It must be serious."
Milo peeked out from behind papa, eyes wide.
I swallowed the knot forming in my throat. "Do you think it's about-"
"Get your cloak," Papa interrupted.
"We're not speculating inside the house."
But as we all stepped into the cold night air and joined the stream of villagers heading toward the square, I felt it every stare flickered toward Blackpine Forest. Fear rippled through the crowd like a shiver passed from body to body.
And the wind, still sharp from earlier, kept brushing my neck like icy fingers.
_________________________________________________________________
The village square glowed with lanterns hanging from tall posts, illuminating the faces of nearly every villager. Children huddled near their parents with wide, fearful eyes, and the hunters stood at the front gripping their spears.
Elder Matthew our oldest leader and the only man alive who'd apparently seen the Beast with his own eyes, or so the stories claimed stepped forward.
"People of Eldermist," he said, voice as brittle as winter branches. "We convene tonight because the forest... has awakened."
A murmur spread like wildfire through the square. Papa stiffened beside me.
Another elder, Mara, she lifted a parchment so old it looked ready to crumble. "Three signs have been recorded in our history, three omens that warn the Beast is coming."
I felt Milo grip my sleeve.
"First," Elder Mara said, "the winds turn cold even in warm seasons."
The wind whipped through the square then, as if acknowledging her.
She continued: "Second, the wolf's fall silent."
A hush fell so complete I realized we hadn't heard a wolf howl all night. And that was wrong wolves always howled at the full moon.
"Third..." Elder Rowan took over, voice trembling. "The moon glows red."
Gasps erupted. A few villagers turned their faces upward, but clouds covered the sky now.
"It's not red," someone muttered, glancing up the darkened sky.
"Not yet," Rowan said quietly.
The crowd stilled.
"Earlier on," Elder Rowan rasped, "our hunters found tracks at the riverbank.
It wasn't a wolf nor was it a bear but of the Beast."
My breath hitched.
"The Beast had crossed into our territory."
The words landed like stones dropping into water each ripple spreading fear.
