Kristal Shanahan lives in Kansas with her husband of 20 years and their two daughters. By day, she is a high school teacher, but when night falls, she becomes a horror writer. She is a member of the Horror Writers Association and is currently in the editing process of her novella, Waves of Evil Descent. She plans to have a late summer release. In the meantime, her first published piece will be in an anthology titled, Scorned, released June 24th. Her story is titled, "Fiery Mable."
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CREATURE COMFORTS
by
Kristal Shanahan
Journal Entry 1
The hunger that grows without the opportunity to satiate myself is truly maddening. Control is important, I need to control my…some might say, unsavory desires to feed myself in an unorthodox manner. Being captured outside my home; dirty and caked with dried blood was humiliating when I awoke here, in front of a young man. He quickly left without a word. He dropped a bag on the floor by the door before he left and locked it from the outside.
My window view is underwhelming at best, as I glance at other buildings and the sidewalks below. Concrete coupled with oppressive summer heat has made my forced isolation nearly unbearable. Oscillating on high, the fan isn’t making the heat dissipate, but only providing a brief reprieve from the boiling temperatures outside when it hits my face. The room is smaller than a hotel room, a firm twin bed tucked away in the corner like an afterthought is where I will sleep. My accommodations are lackluster, to say the least. Fasting is a mandatory rule for the first day. Water is fine, of course, but that is all I may have. Sleep is my only escape for now.
Journal Entry 2
Silence all around me was tolerable yesterday, but today it’s deafening. Nothing to occupy my time with, besides writing. Briefly documenting my days seems to be the only activity I’m allowed to partake in, so I write. Meal time should come soon. I am allotted one midday meal and I am ashamed to admit it, but I’m looking forward to it. I hope it’s a rare slab of veal.
The meat was unidentifiable and rancid, but I reluctantly devoured it. I forced myself to choke down the bread and broccoli, too. The man who delivered my lunch seemed more appetizing than my meal. I don’t know why human flesh excites me. Seeing the young man, I barely resisted the urge to bite him. We look about the same age. Perhaps he is also in his twenties. If I ask nicely, I wonder if I could convince him to move closer to me next time?
Journal Entry 3
An isolation retreat is what they called it. Being locked in here for a few days, I expected it to change me. I’m sure they hoped I would permanently stay human. Daily, temptation confronts me. I think they are taunting me. The driving force inside me has not subsided, but only intensified. Last night, I dreamt of attacking the young man that brought me my meal. I derived great pleasure in clawing his porcelain skin, and visibly seeing the bloody, torn flesh with sinewy muscle in my mouth, feasting on the most divine muscle. I woke up smiling! What’s wrong with me? Why am I craving human flesh?
The delivery of my meal today was slightly later than yesterday. The quality improved with seasoned chicken legs, mashed potatoes and candied carrots. Although I caught myself wiping drool off of my lips while staring at the delivery man. He had more meat on him than what was on my plate. Alas, I will settle for chicken. It was passable. My unnatural cravings have not subsided, and I fear what I will do soon. Sleep should come easier since it’s my only solace and ability to be true to myself. In my dreams, I yearn for a chase and to catch and kill with time to shred and savor my victim. Time is my enemy and hampers my fun in my fantasies when dawn awakens me.
Journal Entry 4
I stayed in bed and daydreamed, since there wasn’t much for me to do. Tonight I am free, they told me as much. I requested steak tartare for my meal, and they granted my wish. It was heavenly. The day dragged on, longing for dusk. I took a nap to occupy my time and my mind. Tossing and turning with troubled dreams proved a waste of time. Finally, twilight hours arrived, and I packed my small bag to head home. Looking out towards the darkness that collides with my window inhibits only slightly my instinctive desire to stalk prey. If the window only opened…I would be free!
The moonlight shining through the window is my only light source as I thought the darkness would quell my thirst for blood, but in fact, it’s deepening my desire. I will run wild soon enough. I forgot my toiletries, so I had to retrieve them from the bathroom. Collecting my things on the sink, I habitually glanced up. As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, viewing the reflection staring back at me; a vile monster that everyone fears. Subtle changes in my body became more clear and pronounced tonight. Muscle had developed. My hands looked more like hybrid canine claws. The monstrosity of hair that has covered my body is truly bizarre. Biting my lip was accidental; a coppery taste on my tongue. Protruding canines that seem to overcrowd my mouth changed the shape of my face. This is my last entry, I can sense that someone is coming.
I heard knocking on the door. I quickly packed away the journal and pen. A young priest, the meal delivery man, paid me a visit.
“Evening Sister. Thank you for staying with us. The others are waiting for you downstairs. They offered you a five-minute advantage running towards the woods, but they have armed their rifles with silver bullets. Good luck!”