FEAST BEAST: A Short Story

“Do you think she’ll like me?” Denise asked, her vision blurred by the gray night fog. Although it was dinner time, it felt much later than that. Denise shoves her clammy hands in her coat pockets. It was way too cold to act ladylike.

“My mom’s gonna love you!” Her boyfriend, James, assured. “What’s not to love?” Well, James wasn’t her boyfriend- boyfriend, like, real boyfriend. They had been dating for only a month - 29 days to be exact - but he wasn’t a boyfriend per se.

“It’s our fourth date and I’m already meeting your family, don’t you think that’s a little crazy?” James lets out a nervous laugh.

“We’re ah…really close. It’ll all make sense once we’re all together. Okay?” James squints his eyes, at an attempt to smolder, and puckers his dry thin lips signaling for a kiss. Denise, not wanting to be rude, leans in to kiss back. With now open eyes, Denise can see into the house through the windows. She sees something move the curtain.

She pushes James off her. “Can we just do this, please?” Denise exhales as she fixes herself. She hates to appear sloppy. Denise was a big girl and everybody thinks you’re sloppy when you’re a big girl. Normally, Denise didn’t let her size bother her, but tonight she was especially insecure about it. It’s not that her size made her insecure, it was how everyone treated her because of her size. Something about James even asking her out in the first place sparked an uneasiness within her. But hey, he was the cutest guy in the office, what could it hurt?

A dead crow thumps onto the ground. Denise jumps. She stares back at it in its beady little lifeless eyes.

James rings the doorbell of a two story golden plated multi-million dollar mansion. Something Denise had only seen in her dreams, the estate was probably worth more than her whole life. The doors open to reveal a young woman, about Denise and James’ age. With long black hair and striking bulging glass green eyes, the young woman, Morgan, stretched a toothy smile. “Well, look who it is…” she says to James. “Hey, Sis!” James responds, so eagerly. Something about it sounded uncanny valley - ish of him. Morgan scans James with her mint green specs for almost too long. The eyes shift to Denise. “You are the prettiest girl my brother has ever brought home!” Is she for real?

“I’m sure none of them are as pretty as you.” Denise says, shaking Morgan’s hand, the firmest handshake she’s ever participated in. Denise knew she didn’t have to lie like that, but the nerves overcame her. Morgan scans Denise in a similar way. Her eyes fall on Denise’s ear. “Love the gold hoops.”“Oh, my goodness, thank you -”

“Something smells really good!” James interjects as he enters and tosses his car keys into the bowl atop the side table. Denise follows behind and already spots a picture of a smiling Morgan next to the side table. Denise looks up. Another picture of Morgan, this time in a cap and gown, hangs in the foyer.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” A deeper voice echoes in the foyer.

“Hello, Dad!” James’ yells and reaches out for a hug from his father. He awkwardly denies the hug and pats James’ on the back. His dad whispers “Y ou know we don’t do that.” Close, huh? “Hi, Mr. Kellen, I’m Denise.” she says to break the awkwardness. “I’ve heard all about you.” He says, not taking Denise’s hand. Denise shoves it back in her pocket.

“Do I hear the voice of our lovely guest for the evening?” They all turn to see James’ mother, draped in silk and gold jewels, sashay down the 50 step staircase. Although she was the guest in the Kellen home, Denise knew that Mrs. Kellen was the real star of the show tonight. “Hello Denise, welcome to our home. We’re so happy to have you for dinner.” Mrs. Kellen says. On the outside, she’s perfectly laid, not a wrinkle in sight, both on her face and clothes. Until she grinned and revealed the red lipstick stuck on her teeth. The rest of the room takes a silent vow to not say a word about it.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kellen.”

“Don’t you look….” She gives Denise the ol’ up and down look. “Nice.” she says, holding Denise's hand with both of hers. Mrs. Kellen’s green glass eyes widen, taking in Denise. Her big body, her long thick brown hair, big hands, and big feet. Her eyes were full of Denise. “Aren’t you just a treat?” Denise and James both let out a nervous chuckle.

“Won’t you join us in the other room? James, take her coat, don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, Idiot.” Morgan mutters under her breath.

The now complete dinner party walks into the living room where more pictures of Morgan at different ages decorate the entire space. Denise looks around. “There aren’t any pictures of you here.” Denise whispers to James. He pauses then smiles “Morgan’s the favorite, of course.” he says. Denise lets it go.Above the fireplace was an empty space, outlined in dust to perfectly fit a canvas portrait. There was something there that no longer wasn’t. Mr. Kellen clears his throat. Staring at the space a moment longer, Denise then turns to see The Kellens staring right back. Not knowing what to say, she stammers, “Um, you have a beautiful home.” Fuck, my hands are still clammy.

“Thank you! Appetizers?” Mrs. Kellen offers. The plate isn’t the prettiest. “We sent our staff home for the night so there would be no interruption. I know it’s not the best looking plate.” Denise takes a piece of cheese, “This is great, I love cheese.” Mrs. Kellen places the plate down directly in front of Denise on the coffee table, next to a singular glass of water. Denise reaches for more, a piece of apple, another cheese cube, and a piece of bread. All room temp, like it'd been out for hours before the party started. Yuck. Denise picks up another cube.

“So, Denise, tell us about you.” Mr. Kellen asks, with his legs crossed at the ankle. He swirls his iced hennessy, ice clanks against the glass.

“Ummm, well, I work with James, actually.”

“At Headband Hut?” Mr. Kellen interjects. Morgan and James share a look with widened eyes.

“Haha, no, dad. Remember, I work at V alueTech, now? Been there for six months.”

“Oh right! Sorry about that, uh, son.” He looks to his wife, staring back at him withdaggers in her eyes. “Sorry.”

“So!” Denise chimes in, tugging at her short black skirt. Why the fuck did I wear this? Too much thigh meat! “What was James like as a kid?” There’s a long pause. Morgan looks at their parents. “Mom? Dad?” They look at each other.

“Uuuuhhhh…” Mrs. Kellen says. It’s like she was stumped. “Ummmmmm…college basketball days!” Mr. Kellen finally answers. I remember you played for Northern in that one game…that one time…you scored 30 points that game, right?”

“Nine. More like nine points that game.” James says, stretching his collar. “And it was Northern Community College.” Morgan rolls her eyes then stares at her phone. Denise sees the apps plate has gone untouched still, with the exception of her. She’s the only one with a used napkin. “Want some?” Denise asks James. James leans away and shakes his head no. He motions it into her mouth. She slowly chews and swallows. She then regrets it.

“Had enough?” Denise looks up at Mrs Kellen.

“Pardon?”

“I said, are you all done? Morgan, honey, will you take these? And could you check on the food, please? Check if everything looks good in the oven? Morgan is cooking just the most fabulous meal, aren’t you, honey?” Morgan sends a text then rolls her eyes again.

“I’ll go too!” James says. He gets up. “No!” his father orders. “Sit down.” Oh shit.

James does what his father tells him. He avoids Denise’s gaze. Is it too early to leave just yet? After another awkward beat, Mr. Kellen turns to Denise and smiles. “Do you like ghost stories, Denise?”

“Yeah, they’re okay. Most of them aren’t real, so that’s the fun part.” Denise smiles, pleased with her answer.

“What makes you think they’re not real?” Mrs. Kellen asks. Denise, startled by this lady’s response, comes back with, “Um well, stories change over time, you know. The more they're told the more the story is fabricated or watered down. Just like a game of telephone. Legends and myths work in that same way.” Mrs. Kellen pours herself a drink and smiles at Denise’s response. Denise took that to mean what she said might have been stupid.

“I have a story to share,'' Mr. Kellen interjects. He looks to Denise. “Have you ever heard of…the Feast Beast?”

All eyes shift to Denise at that moment. “I haven’t.”

Mr. Kellen lets a tiny small stretch across his face and his hazel eyes mirrored the embers from the fire in the fireplace. He took a long drink then a deep breath as he began, “When my father was a young boy, very young, he went with his father into the woods. Just like the ones outside, but about 50 miles east. They were camping, tent, campfire, s’mores, all that -deep deep deep, into the woods. Once darkness fell and the moon was the only light, he lied there unable to sleep. He’d say grandpa always snored too loud on these camping trips.”

Denise lets out a soft chuckle, enmeshed in Mr. Kellen’s story. He’ s a great storyteller , she thought leaning in closer, feeling either the heat from the fireplace or the energy in the room. “Pop stood up from his sleeping bag. He could barely see his hand out in front of him because it was so dark. He thought he’d rebuild the already put out fire for some light and warmth, so he had to feel around the dirt for sticks and rocks but he felt something else. It was bumpy, hairy, like a hoof.” Denise could hear James gulp. She looks over to him as sweat beads from his forehead. She rolls her eyes as Mr. Kellen continues.

“He slid his hands up further and further, feeling a pair of legs. He couldn’t tell if it was a wolf, a bear, or a buck who could stand on its hind legs, he could never say for sure but he was convinced it was all three. He never saw what was there but he honed in his other senses. He could hear it eat.” Denise had a nasty taste in her mouth from the room temp cheese. She sips her crystal glass of some room temperature water. For as much money as these people had you’d think they’d have ice.

Mr. Kellen continued, “He said he had never heard an act so disgusting.Ripping, tearing, peeling at goat skin meat and blood. Pop said he’d never forget that sound of…crunching.”

“How did he know it was a goat? Denise asked. He takes another swig of his drink and says, “He could hear the goat screaming and bleating as it was still alive…until it wasn’t anymore.”

“What did he do?”

“He ran. He could hear the hooves clomping behind him galloping just as fast behind him. Pop ran through the darkness, he just ran and ran until he found an empty road. Stayed on the side of it until my grandpa found him the next morning. They never went camping again.”

The room was dead silent. “My father never told anyone what happened, but there were others and they told others. Years after that, the town finally stuck on a name to call it. Feast Beast.” Denise was the one to gulp this time.

“Some anthropology professor at the local college speculated that it was as old as a millennia but maybe even older than that if I had to guess. Nowadays you see books on ‘mythical creatures’...the Feast Beast is said to be a glutton who never stops eating, just eating everything in sight. Glutton. Pure glutton. Some say the beast has aged and gotten lazy and fat over the years.” Denise jumps in her seat at the heavy emphasis on the word ‘fat.’ “Now too lazy to hunt for its own food, the beast is said to take sacrifices in exchange for…monetary reward. For gold. The offerer with the biggest plumpest juiciest offering, would get all the gold he could ever imagine.” It grows quiet again,

then:

“What would your offering be?” Denise asks. “For…the beast.”

Mr. Kellen looks back at her with a smirk crawling on his face. He begins naming them off, “Anywhere from goats…the biggest pig I had…” As he trails off, his eyes linger all up and down Denise’s body. Not to undress her but something just as…perverse. Denise, nervous, places her hands on James. Mr. Kellen continues, “And even a huge fat -”

BING BONG PING!

The sound of metal pots and pans hitting the marble floor fill the entire house. Mr. Kellen and James cover their ears and Denise is so startled she jumps right up. Mrs. Kellen remains unmoved. Runs in Morgan with a look of embarrassment. “Sorry about that everyone, I - I just -

James! I need your help.” James gets right up as does Mrs. Kellen. “Sweetheart.” She seethes. “I thought we said you’d be handling dinner, alone.” She steps towards her daughter but then her daughter takes a step back. Denise’s heart leaps just a tiny bit.

“I know, mother. But I need him, okay? Is that alright with you?” Morgan takes James’ wrist and drags him towards the kitchen.Their parents stare daggers into their children’s backs as they walk away for a long while before…

“C-c-c-c-could I use the restroom, p-please?”

Mr. and Mrs. Kellen slowly turn behind them to face an uncomfortable Denise, pinching her knees together to keep from pissing herself. Mrs. Kellen doesn’t say anything, but instead drags her index finger and points upstairs.

Denise nods politely. “Thank you.”

As Denise runs up stairs, she sees even more pictures of Morgan, along with Mr. Kellen’s Business degree from 1980 something or whatever and Mrs. Kellen’s glam portrait from around that same time. She was way prettier than Morgan could ever be, but with those exact same glass green eyes. Before Denise does herself in, she runs the rest of the way up there.

****

Denise washes her hands with the expensive hand soap, the vanilla - citrus - hibiscus kind. Rubbing her hands with a soft embroidered hand towel, it reads Kellen. Denise looked to the towel rack on the side of the sink and there were more towels and bathrobes with the same moniker. She rolls her eyes and tosses the towel.

Through the open tiny bathroom window, she could see back to the foliage outside. She lifts it open. By now, the fog from earlier had cleared from the night sky. In the sky sat the full moon, bright and illuminating the forest. It was so close, Denise was convinced she could reach out and touch it. She breathed in the clear air. The wind began to lift dry leaves and whirl them around until a footfall sound came from up the stairs. Despite the sound startling Denise, she moved in closer to the door and places her ear on it.

She hears Morgan and James' voices, but not exactly what is being said. Their voices carried closer…and closer… and closer, until they were right next door. Denise could hear a door close right behind them. She moves to the corner of the bathroom to listen better. All is muted. Then…silence. Denise waits. Still nothing.

Denise peaks out the hallway corridor. No sign of them. She looks to the room next to her. The door is still closed. She thought it was rather rude for James to leave her alone for such a long time and Denise wanted to tell him so. If this was ever going to work, she had to be honest with him about her feelings, right? If she was ever going to love someone properly, Denise had to learn how to stand up for herself. A lie she told herself that gave her the freedom to do what she was about to do next.

Denise gently turned the knob and pushed the door open just so. She took a peek inside and saw something so grotesque and horrifying. James, embracing Morgan in a deep, passionate,wet, horny kiss. On the lips. With tongue. For, like, at least three seconds. The two are so engrossed in one another’s mouths that they do not notice Denise standing there in absolute disgust. Tears fill her eyes and she violently gags. Wanting to get the fuck outta there, that dinner, that house, as quickly and as safely as possible, Denise shuffles backwards and shuts the door gently as she held her breath. She turned and runs right into the last person she’d ever want to see after that. Mrs. Kellen.

Denise lets out a scream that she just could not contain. Morgan and James run out of the room and are startled by both Denise and their mother in the hallway. James begins to tremble. “M-Mom? Everything okay?”

Mrs. Kellen looks right past a distraught Denise and stares down James and Morgan. She finally breaks the silence. “Yes. Your father and I have set the table, like you asked, Morgan. Dinner is served.”

****

Denise sat at the long and embellished dining table, eyes wet. She bit down her bottom lip because if she didn’t she would either puke or spill the beans. Mr. Kellen drags a knife along another. The sound of metal scraping splices through Denise’s spine. Grilled steaks, mashed potatoes was the main course and pea soup for the first course. At least that's what Denise could See without moving her gaze to anywhere other than her lap. It wouldn’t have mattered if the food looked good anyway, Denise was half a moment away from puking. A bowl of the pea soup plopped in front of her. In it a floating dead fly. “Hey, you okay?” James asks, sitting to her left.

Denise nods. She can’t even look him in the eye.

“Wine?” Morgan offers Denise. Denise nods her head again, raising her glass. She grips it so tightly, the glass begins to shake. Morgan sits back down on the opposite side of the table in front of James, their parents at the heads of the table. The family all glare at a pale green and sickly Denise. Sweat begins to bead on her forehead and fall right into her pea soup. Her heart begins to race. James reaches for Denise’s hand. “Denise, could you pass the - “

“YOU FRENCHED YOUR SISTER!” Denise couldn’t hold it in any longer. Denise blacked out for that moment, she saw herself pointing right at James. She slowly lowers her hand, embarrassed. A silence falls on the table for what feels like an eternity.

“...Y ou fucking fat bitch.” James says through gritted teeth.

This stings Denise but only for a moment. As she’s about to fire back, Mr. Kellen throws his silverware onto his plate so hard it breaks, leaving pieces of good china on his steak. Denise looks Mr. Kellen right in his maniacal eyes, now pitch black; no iris, no soul. “Psst, Denise, honey…” Denise turns to the voice of Mrs. Kellen, a whisper really. “I don’t know what you think you saw…”

“I saw them.” Denise proclaims. She was scared but not of Mrs. Kellen.

“Mom, I can explain…” Morgan calmly pleads with her mother. “Mrs. Kellen, it was an accident! I’m sorry! James chimes in. It is then Denise’s head swings to James.

Why did he call her that?

“You fucking idiot” Mr. Kellen throws his hands in the air, defeated. Mrs. Kellen takes out a stunning gold case, opens it, grabs a cigarette, then lights it with a matching gold lighter. She grows quiet. James and Morgan drop their heads in shame.

Mr. Kellen carries on, “It's ruined. All of it. The plan is ruined.”

Denise whips her head back around. Bitch, what fucking plan? Except Denise does in fact say the quiet part loud, “What fucking plan?”

Mrs. Kellen takes a long drag of her Virginia Slim. A smirk crawls on her face. “Denise…how do you think we’re able to keep this beautiful home? My husband owns, what is it, five businesses? And still… he could never get me a house this beautiful on his own.” Mr. Kellen loudly picks at his teeth with his tongue, signaling his wife to get to the point. Mrs. Kellen stands up and walks to the window. She opens the curtains to reveal the moon, even bigger than just a few moments ago. “Tonight is the supermoon, my dear. And you know what that means.”

“Feast Beast.” Denise mutters. She clenches her jaw.

“Exactly. And what would that make you, Denise? Quickly!”

“...Dinner.”

“Preciscely.” Mrs. Kellen stretches an even longer smile, something familiar yet hollow. Denise’s heart begins to beat so loudly, the whole room could hear it. Denise holds her breath and breaks it out of there, running as fast as she can, but only one little thing stops her. Her legs. She couldn’t move her legs. What was in that wine? Or was it the pea soup? Or the cheese…the damn…cheese… Denise falls straight on the marble floors and bumps her head hard. She sees nothing but complete darkness.

****

Denise jolts awake, tied up like a pig on the ground, in the woods under the light of the super moon. Head pounding and breath shortening, Denise can hear the sound of shovels hitting dirt. Some dirt hits Denise in the eyes, forcing her to scream out in pain. The shovels stop.

Morgan pops her head out of the hole in the earth. “Well, look who’s awake!” Mr. Kellen’s head pops out next, “Well, well, well!” He laughs, “Look who, indeed.” Next follows James. With half the energy as his sister and father, James slumps on the ground, out of breath and gasping for air. He tosses the shovel outside of the hole that might be Denise’s shallow grave in just a second.

“You okay, babe?” Morgan looks to James. She jumps out the hole and lifts James out of it. James straightens himself up. They kiss. Denise gags and throws up just a little. She spits and looks to Mr. Kellen. “I don’t know who’s more disgusting, them or you for letting your son and daughter kiss like that.”

“He’s not my son.”

Whether it was because of the rope, the vomit, or this moment, Denise had the wind knocked out of her and could not breathe. “What?...”

“He’s my boyfriend, bitch! Not my brother. Make sense now?” Morgan rolls her eyes and kicks Denise in the stomach. Denise lets out a yelp. “What the fuck!” Denise cries out. She looks up at Morgan. Morgan was wearing Denise’s gold hoops. James kneels down to Denise and looks her straight in the eyes. He pats her head like a pet. “I’m sorry, Denise. It was either you or…”

“It would have been him!” Mr. Kellen interjects. “But he proposed a deal that we just could not pass up. He promised us someone bigger, fatter, plumper, juicier, and heavier . Isn’t that right James?”

Denise stares James down in disbelief and pure disgust. James avoids her glare, standing on what he’s just done. With tears in her eyes, Denise lets out a blood curdling scream that could shake the trees in the woods. “Y eah, yeah, yeah. Help me get her up.” Mr. Kellen tosses his shovel and motions for Morgan and James to help lift and carry their dinner guest. “1…2…3!” They toss her in the grave.

Denise screams and screams and screams and screams as they shovel dirt on her, until we could hear her screams no more.

“There.” Mr. Kellen finalizes.

“What now?” Morgan asks.

“We wait.” Her father answers. “Let’s go.”

They leave with James lagging right behind. He stares back at the burial ground. He was feeling shame but was relieved that it wasn’t him in the dirt. He lets out a deep breath and looks up at the moon. “Shit…” He shuffles behind the Kellens. Softly in the wind, leaves begin to tussle back and forth scraping against one another as the winds throw a chill into the mix. Dark gray clouds clump together then:

BOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOOM!

Thunder made itself known with lightning following shortly after. “Odd…” Mr. Kellen muttered as he turned to look, making Morgan also stop in her tracks.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

Mr. Kellen didn’t answer. Thunder, lighting, then heavy windy rain, animals start going crazy. In a way that was not normal for nighttime. The sound of scared scurrying clamoring woodland creatures stirred. The ground begins to shake. “Dad…”

James catches up, arms wrapped around him to subvert the freezing cold. “Mr. Kellen? What’s the matter…” Mr. Kellen’s face turned so pale he was translucent. His eyes may have grown three times their size. James and Morgan turn to see his focus and there lies, an empty shallow grave that was filled with what was left of Denise.

Morgan lets out a high pitched scream but James is too stunned to speak. Through the darkness, James, Morgan, and Mr. Kellen all hear the last sounds of their fate: “You’ve been mistaken, fools. I can’t be sacrificed to the Feast Beast…because I am the Feast Beast.” A voice so distorted belonging to such a horrible sight of a monster pops out of the darkness and goes straight for Mr. Kellen’s neck. It was something like a wolf. Or a bear. Or a buck on its hind legs. Something that no one had ever seen before and would ever live to see again.

“DADDDDDDDYYYYY!” Morgan yowls. Denise cuts Morgan short as it rips her head clean off her body. The Feast Beast licks its nails stained with Morgan's blood. So good. The Feast Beast rips the gold hoops off Morgan’s ears.

The sound of footsteps breaks its focus and it turns around to see James trying to get away. Come here you stupid fat bitch. In just two steps, The Feast Beast pounces on James and drags its nails all along his back. Its nails claw in so deep that they tear into his organs. As it continues to rain, the water washes away the blood from its claws.

Feast Beast looks to the light that beans out of the Mansion far in the distance. It knew that it wasn’t done just yet.

****

Back at the mansion, Mrs. Kellen cleans her kitchen back to perfection. The dishes were put away, the sink sparkling clean, and the stove looked like it was never used. She stops and admires her work as she sips on a glass of wine. On the marble coated island, Mrs. Kellen flicks her cigarette ash on a crystal ashtray. She takes a handkerchief to a gold plate, rubbing it until she sees herself in reflection. She lifts up her wine glass and mutters, “to new beginnings.”

THW ACK!

“Shit!” Mrs. Kellen drops her glass and its shears fly everywhere. She suddenly regrets her choice of bare feet. “Shit…” She tiptoes out of the mess, steps on a small shard. Wincing in pain, she limps to find out what made that sound. Mrs. Kellen stops dead in the middle of the foyer. The front doors are busted through, wood pieces swinging off the hinges. Without secondthought, Mrs. Kellen limps as fast as she can upstairs, with a trail of blood behind her.

Screeeeeech…. The sound of nails scratches the wood. “Mrs. Kellen…..” we hear the distorted voice whisper. The scraping continues on the wall, knocking each picture of the family plucked off one by one.

“Missussss Kelllllennnnnn….” the beast called again. The Kellen blood dripping all over its teeth. Mrs Kellen hides behind a corner. She thought of the gun that stayed in her husband’s safe under the bed. Mrs. Kellen tries to catch her breath, but she’s still calm. She looks in the corner and sees the beast, tearing through her house, flipping furniture, ripping through wallpaper. She turns back and covers her mouth so as not to scream. All calm was now lost.

“Missusssss Kelllllllllllennnn….” The beast called out again, its voice fried. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight. Y our hospitality warms my heart.” Mrs. Kellen knew that she had to jump in between hallways to run to her room to get the gun in her husband’s safe. The beast was making its way down the hallway to find her. It was either risk it and get caught or stay put and get caught. “I was so flattered by your very dead husband’s story about me. I do have many names, but Feast Beast?” It lets out a bellowed laugh that sounded like thunder. “That’s a good one! One thing he got wrong though…”

Now or never.

She storms towards the room. Mrs. Kellen runs to the safe and starts moving the knob on the safe frantically. Knowing her husband’s combination was her birthday, it opened and there lay the hand pistol, already loaded. She grabs it and dips behind the bed.

“From time to time…” The beast lifts the bed over her head. “I do hunt my own food”

Mrs. Kellen screeches until her throat could no longer muster a sound. FEAST BEAST tosses the mattress across the room as Mrs. Kellen takes the gun with a trembling hand and shoots at the beast. A bullet hits the beast in the arm. The beast screams in pain , making the mansion glass windows explode, raining shards of glass everywhere, landing on Mrs. Kellen’s face leaving tiny ticks of blood. The beast strikes Mrs. Kellen so hard she flies across the room.

The beast grabs her by the neck and brings her as high as the tall ceilings. As Feast Beast begins to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze again, Mrs. Kellen's glass green eyes start to bulge bigger and bigger. They pop like two bubble gum bubbles filled with goo.

****

As the rain begins to lighten, the woods are calm and quiet. We see the moon sit atop the beautiful multi - million dollar golden plated mansion, as it kissed it ever so gently. Then suddenly, Denise, in a Kellen white bathrobe walks out the door and into the night. The soundsof howls fill the air as she basks in the light of the full moon, on a full belly, and shiny gold hoops on her ears.