Losing Control

  Inevitably it all comes down to this.  In the end, everyone loses control. 

He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears as he ran across the shadowy path, and his breathing came in sharp, rasping, panting breaths.  He had been running for what seemed like forever, since he had heard what tonight was.
The sun was sinking behind the mountains, and it's fading light was already disappearing from the ground at his feet, and still he ran.  His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest, and with each passing moment the pounding increased. His chest burned, and he could taste the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, but he still continued on, running even faster, if that was possible. 
The city was falling further behind him, but he never turned to look at it as he ran.  His only thought was to get further, and further away from the lights that were beginning to turn on behind him.  Those lights terrified him, not the lights themselves, but the night, that they signaled was soon to arrive. 
He left behind his house, and his things.  He had ran without calling his girlfriend, or for that matter, even bothering to close the door behind him, as he bolted from his house.  None of this even crossed his mind as he ran, only the thought of getting away dominated his thinking, and he was doing everything he could to make that thought a reality. 
The sounds of the nightlife were coming alive around him, and his senses screamed out at him every time an owl, or other nocturnal animal, cried out to the oncoming night.   The beaten trail he traveled was the fastest way into the mountains, and he ran towards them as if he could catch the sinking sun.  The trail was growing quite dark in front of him, and he was certain that if he looked to the East he would see the first stars of the new night, twinkling in the sky behind him. 
In front of him, the gaping maw of the forest seemed to devour the trail, as it lead into the dense wooded area.  The shadows seemed to creep from tree to tree, as they followed him as he ran, and again, although it should not have been possible, the man increased his pace over the rough ground.
Through the treetops, he could see the brilliant colors of the sunset over the familiar mountain range.  It had always amazed him how beautiful the colors were, when they played over the cloud cover mountains.  The way that yellow, and blue, and orange and purple could mix so elegantly had mesmerized him as a child, but the beautiful scene filled him with panic as he pounded down the path now.  His mind raced, even faster than his feet, and he calculated the time remaining until the night sky would take over this part of the Earth, and then his pulse decided to compete with his mind and his feet.
He had not seen anybody for minutes now, but the minutes were becoming a blur, so he could not be sure how long it actually had been.  The only thought that seemed to matter now was running, and so he continued on.
The sky above the treetops was almost completely black now, and behind the clouds, stars were beginning to twinkle their delight.  The moon was still hiding beneath the horizon, but if he had turned to look, the ghostly light would have been visible, as it crept over the Earth. 
The man ran, his legs ached, and his side was cramped, but he continued anyway, and then in front of him, he heard a scream.  It was a woman's voice, and as she screamed again, he could tell she was coming towards him.
Panic ran through his body, and his pulse threatened to propel his heart from his chest.  He had thought he had gotten away from them, but there was someone out here, and he was not alone.  His mind, startled from it's single course, now began to think of a way out this currant situation. 
The path was only seven or eight feet wide, and the forest formed a virtual wall to either side of it.  The trees were very thick, and it was so dark beneath the canopy, that a person could only see a foot or so in between the giant trees.  The still panting man, jumped off of the path and into the obscuring darkness provided by the forest. 
As the sound of people neared where he hid, his mind screamed to him that, he needed to quiet his breathing, but no matter how he tried he was unable to slow his labored breath.
A woman stumbled into his vision, and then fell, as she attempted to run.  Behind her, a man came running into the hidden man's line of sight, and in his hand he held a wickedly curved knife. More men were running behind the man carrying the knife, and every last one of them wore a stupid grin on his face. 
The man in the forest stared in absolute wonder.  All he had wanted, was to get away, and he had run into some stupid gang rape.  His mind again began to race, and still his pulse had not slowed, and his breathing threatened to betray his location.  He had to do something.  The woman still lay where she had fallen, her head shook back and forth in a feeble attempt to deny what was about to happen to her.  Her mouth worked, but nothing escaped her lips, as if in her final moments, the lungs which had pierced the night as she ran from the group, had now failed her.
The man with the wicked knife laughed as he walked forward unbuttoning his trousers.  His friends gathered around in a circle, and from the way they were looking at the girl it was evident that they were having similar thoughts as the man with the knife.
It was completely dark now, both below and above the trees dense canopy, and the man in the trees could no longer sit and watch what was about to happen.  With a stealth he had not used in his earlier flight, he snuck up behind one of the men.  When he was a few feet behind the man, he struck him in the head with a branch he had found laying at his feet.  The man fell, and as the body thumped on the ground, the men realized they were not alone out here. 
The still panting man lept into the circle and pulled the girl to her feet. He slammed the closest rapist in the face, and then pushed the girl towards the opening that was left by the now unconscious man.  
"Run," he growled as he pushed the startled young woman.  She obeyed without hesitation, and without even a look back as she fled.
The men reformed their circle, and the man with the knife now advanced on the girl's liberator.  The wicked knife gleamed in the moonlight, and the man in the center of the circle slumped to his knees.  The group laughed, and their laughter had an edge that was almost as sharp as the knife held in the leaders hairy hand. 
The man with the knife walked forward, and the man on his knees seemed to twitch, and then he fell to the ground.  The leader looked at his fellows, and again they all laughed.
"You're not getting out of this that easy.  You ruined our fun for the night, so now you will become our fun." The large man with the knife finished this sentence with another evil laugh.  "You didn't really think that you could act sick, and we would leave you alone did you?  Idiot."
The man on the ground had quit twitching, and he lay now with his arms over his face, curled into the most pathetic fetal position imaginable.  Suddenly the knife was thrust into the man's side, and he jerked slightly, but maintained his pose otherwise.  The knife wielder looked up at his friends, and his expression was more confused than ecstatic.  It was obvious that he had expected much more of a reaction than the one he had received, and so he plunged the knife again into the slumped figure's side. The reaction this strike received startled everyone.
The man on the ground stood from where he lay, as the knife was wrenched from it's wielders hand.  The moon had fully risen in the sky, and everyone in the circle could clearly see the man as he rose from the floor of the path.  His face was fixed in a distorted grimace in which he bore his teeth in the most vicious way. 
The group backed away, as the man in the middle was again wracked with the convulsive spasms he had displayed before.  The spasms increased, and his form began to blur, as a savage scream was wrenched from vocal cords that could not find a pitch.  The men in the circle began to flee, and the man who had held the knife fled with the rest of them, forgetting about his knife which still stuck from the man's side.
The moonlight shown brightly on the path, and as the men ran, they could clearly see the figure of the man still shaking in the middle of the path where they had left him.  The screams continued from the man, but they were taking on an eerie tone that sent chills racing through the men as they fled.  There was something unnatural about what they had all witnessed, and each of them ran with no thought for their fellows. 
The man who had been laying on the ground had felt the first sting when the knife had originally been shoved into his side, but that pain had soon faded, as it was replaced with a deeper, more agonizing pain.  He was aware that the knife had left his side, but only because the cracking and breaking of his ribs would have bounced off of the sharp metal object, and he felt no such resistance as his lungs expanded and his ribs reformed around them. 
The crack as his pelvis split was always the most painful, and it drove him to his feet. His skin crawled, and he could feel every inch of it, as if it were a living creature.  The sudden jerk to his feet had begun a series of spasms, which followed the seemingly endless series of snaps and cracks as his bones split and grew. 
The world blurred around him, and a scream escaped his lips unbidden.  His windpipe snapped, as his neck broke, and his throat expanded and grew muscles that had not been obvious before. The spasms continued, and soon the screams became a howl, and the single mindedness that he had displayed as he fled the city, now dominated his being.
His eyes opened, and the world around him was brighter, more vivid.  He could see, as if it were full daylight, but this was natural to the beast who now stood where the man once had, and it was not worth noticing. 
The creature felt hate, boiling from every ounce of his inner being, but this time was different than so many before it, his hate had a target. 
The men who had chased the girl ran now, but they had little idea of the horror that chased them on this night.  The beast released another howl, and a nearby wolf responded with it's own melancholy reply.  The creature raced through the night, and the men in front of it screamed as they saw their fate bearing down upon them.
The octave of one of the men changed, as it suddenly jumped from a scream of terror to one of pain, and then for a moment before it was forever silent, there was an almost inaudible gurgle.  The creature ripped into the man, who now lay face down on the ground, eyes staring blankly across the forest floor. 
The beast only stopped long enough snap down a couple of bites, and then it continued after the remaining others.  It was a creature made of hate.  A creature made of hate, but one designed to hunt.  The beasts anger and rage were directed towards the would be rapists, and it was set on chasing every last one of them down before the night was over.
The leader of the rapists ran, and as he did he tripped and tugged on his fellows.  He was certain that he could keep the creature from reaching himself if he could dump enough of his friends in the beasts path.
The creature ran through the group, and as it did, it sliced the men it passed with it's newly grown, razor sharp claws.  The beast attacked as a hunter, and as it ran through the fallen men, it sliced through tendons, and this ensured he would have easy hunting after catching his fleeing prey. 
The man ran for all he was worth, but he could not help the occasional glance over his shoulder to see if he was being pursued.  It was too dark for the man to be able to see more than twenty or thirty yards, but he could not hear the sounds of pursuit behind him, so he began to calm down, and his pace also slowed. 
He could see his pick-up truck, sitting on the side of the road, and he once again began to pick up his pace.  The hill had quite a steep angle at this point near the road, and the man was soon on his hands and knees as he scrambled up the side of the hill. 
Suddenly the man felt a sharp pain in his side, and as he looked down, he saw a long hairy arm, covered in muscles, pull out five bloody, clawed fingers from his side.  He fell to his side, and a giant shadow soon filled his view.  There was a vicious growl, and then a blood curdling scream which echoed off the nearby rock walls.
The beast ripped and tore at the man beneath him, and when he had eaten his fill, he again let out the bone chilling howl, which signaled the hunt. There were many screams that bounced off of the rock walls, but two of the men escaped this fate.  As the beast chased them down, they had the fortune of running off the side of a cliff.
When the sunlight began to force away the darkness a couple of hours later, the police were making there way up the path with dogs, and drawn weapons.  The woman who had escaped the attack the night before, had called the police, and they were now searching for the men who had committed the crime. 
The man who had fled the city the night before came stumbling out of the forest.  The officers yelled for him to halt, which he did.  He stopped where he was, and he raised his blood covered hands.
The woman had given a accurate description of the man who had saved her, and the police soon realized this was the man they now had in custody.
The police quickly got the man to the medics, and as he was being tended to they asked him about the group who had attacked the woman.  He told them about the beginning of the encounter, and about being stabbed, but he could not remember anything other than chasing down each and every one of them.
A few hours later, the cops who had been out searching the forest returned, and there was a conference between them and the chief. when the discussion was over the chief came walking over, a somber expression on his face.
"It seems as though you are a very lucky man, sir.  After you chased down your attackers, it seems as though the wolves might have gotten to them.  Yes sir, you not only avoided more than a small slice on the ribs from that knife, but you avoided a pack of obviously hungry wolves," As the chief finished, he could have sworn he saw a slight smile creep across the bandaged man's face. 


Ian Johnson...