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The Beast

By Dark Violet

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Content Warning:

This story contains Non-Consensual Vore, both Soft and Fatal.

So…

Enjoy!

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Laura's eyelids fluttered open onto the shadowed roof of her tent. Something was wrong.

For a moment she turned over, settling back with heavy limbs against the warm softness of her sleeping bag. But something tugged at her mind; she couldn't quite shake it, no matter how much sleep dragged enticingly...

Outside, the wind rose in fits and starts, rolling against the side of the tent. Like waves on a beach, the trees rustled, the sound rising and falling in the distance… and there - there it was. Light fluttering, a scraping of canvas on canvas…

Laura heaved her head up, peering through tired eyes over Damian, still asleep on the other side of the tent. The entrance looked fine - all zipped up, pale moonlight casting light across the outside. She frowned, and flopped back down…

…she had to get up and find out what was up.

With protesting limbs, she eased herself up, and carefully crawled over her still-sleeping companion and the curled-up fox at his feet. She unzipped the tent as quietly as possible, slipping out into the part-covered entryway, and into the cool night.

The scene was blues and silvers, with pale, leaf-heavy branches reaching out from dull, indistinct shadowy trees that reached up to unseen heights against a dark sky. Stars peered through gaps in the clouds, twinkling and fading in and out as errant wisps of cirrus and high branches drifted over them.

The small grassy clearing around her looked different in the night, especially now, without their campfire to illuminate the low branches of the surrounding trees. She tested the grass with her hand - it was wet with dew. Must be almost morning then, right? She thought for a moment, then removed her thick camping socks so as not to get them wet, and quickly danced out from under her tent into the cool breeze, soft grass against her bare feet.

The sound was coming from the door to Paul's tent. It was unzipped, and flapping against the rest of the tent in the wind. She leaned closer, crouching down to peer at the darkness and bundles of clothes inside.

“Paul?"

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out the pale greys of his sleeping mat, and his bag, bundled up against one end of the tent - and no Paul. Something moved - in one of the near corners, the curled-up bundle of Paul's Chatot partner lifted her head and regarded Laura with a sleepy eye.

“Razor, where's Paul?"

Razor flicked her head around to the empty tent, then back to Laura. She whistled a questioning noise. “Gone."

Laura furrowed her brow. His shoes were missing, as - by the looks of things - was his phone. Where could he have gone?

She thought back to her slumbering. The flapping had been going on for a while, slowly drawing her out of sleep…

She made her way back to her tent and leaned inside. A few moments later, Damian was awake too and stumbling out.

“Could he have just gone for the toilet?" he asked, dragging on a jacket.

Laura wrapped her arms around her chest, shaking her head. “Maybe? But he's been gone for far too long. He should be back by now, right?"

“He's got the sat phone, right?" Damian pulled out his cell. “No signal on my cell. Fuck." He turned around, zipping up his coat as he did. “Motherfucker, just like him to wander off without telling us…"

By now, Razor was fully awake and perched on the far end of the tent. Her feathers were fluffed up and twitching in the wind, while her gaze scanned the treeline in ever-more sharp motions. Damian watched her for a few minutes, then glanced at Laura.

“I'll go wake up Sally. See if she can find the idiot."

A few minutes later and Sally was snuffling at Paul's tent, shells tinkling as she moved. She was a Thievul, recently-evolved after their trip last month, and so still smaller than usual and only just coming up to their hips. Her nose twitched at the clothes bundled up in one corner, and then she lifted her head, sniffing at the wind, the strings of shells hanging from her tail clattering as it swayed.

Laura was tugging at her shirt. “He should be back by now…" she muttered, glancing back at Razor. The Chatot looked just as worried as she did, wide eyes glinting in the errant moonlight.

“Razor", Laura said, “Can you fly around, see if you can find him?"

“Fly around! Find him!" Razor parroted, and took off in a flutter of dark feathers. In short order, he disappeared into the clouded night above.

Sally was walking to the treeline. Damian took a few steps after her. “...There are a few cliffs in this area, right?"

Laura nodded. She hadn't been wanting to say it.

“Sally," Damian said, glancing at his cell again, “track Paul. And watch where you step, okay?"

“Still here! Can't see!" Razor called from above them.

Laura was already pushing past him, following the dull shape of Sally as she disappeared into the trees.

“Laura, don't you want to put on shoes?"

“No time," she grunted, gritting her teeth as a twig dug into her heel.

Sally trotted ahead of them as they jogged into the trees. Damian cast around with a flashlight, wrinkled bark looking out from the darkness, and water glinting as it dripped from high branches. He handed another flashlight to Laura; she cast it along the ground in front of her. Were those bootprints? If they were, were they from Paul, or all of them from yesterday? From the moon, she figured they were going mostly westwards, which was about where they'd come from; but if the path was familiar, night shrouded any recognition.

“Can't see!" The cry was muffled now. There was a brief flutter of wings and the creaking of some upper boughs.

The wind was biting into Laura's thin nightshirt now, and she regretted not grabbing a coat too. She flicked up the beam of her flashlight to look around, and stumbled over an errant root, making the light flit around the dark woods. There was a twitch in a nearby branch, and a sound of something small running in the underbrush - a fern trembled in the light. Dammit - how far had he gone?

“He's got to be nearby…" Laura muttered.

“He didn't need to go this far into the woods just for a leak. Damn idiot…" Damian muttered, then slowed down, hanging his head. “...sorry, I… god, I hope he's okay."

“He'll be fine. Let's just find him." Laura muttered. She swore under her breath; the words hadn't given her the hope she'd wanted.

Damian stopped. The light of his flashlight picked up Sally's orange fur and the pale strings of white shells that hung from her tail. The light glinted off her eyes as she turned to sniff at some plants, and then she stepped through some bushes and into the underbrush.

“Paul!?" Laura shouted. There was no answer - no rustle from the trees around, not even the flapping of a bird. The forest remained silent, broken only by Sally pushing through the brush.

Damian pressed in after her, and Laura cast her flashlight around. This was unsettling - no signal, no reply to her call. The breeze beneath the canopy had dropped, and the ferns and branches stood cold and still. It was uncomfortably quiet, nothing like the birdsong-soaked woods from the daytime. An unsettling weight pressed down in the air around her.

“...Damian?"

“Yeah… I know." She heard him swallow. “Look, maybe Sally's found something…"

He cast his flashlight back in front of him, where branches were swaying from Sally's passage. There was a brief rrrmf from the Thievul beyond the branches, then a shuffle of leaves. Damian paused.

“Paul?" he ventured. Laura held still. “...Sally?"

Leaves rubbing on leaves again. A bough of a tree creaked.

Laura stared at Damian. He didn't move.

Her limbs screamed at her to stay still, but she took a deep breath, and willed herself to step forwards. She edged past Damian, her flashlight fixed ahead of her. The beam twitched in her grasp. She pushed her way through the branches…

It was a clearing, of sorts. A small ledge of dirt and rock led down into a dark, shallow natural pit; the moonlight caught the swaying tops of ferns and brambles. Long, thick trunks reached into the air, black and fuzzy against the trees on the other side of the pit. The wind dropped suddenly, returning the forest to its silence-

Not silence. There was something… deep, rumbling. It sounded… close by. Laura cast her flashlight to the nearest tree-

The light shone off dull green scales and sickly yellow patterns.

Her breath caught in her throat. She stumbled back into the brush, flicking the light upwards. The beam caught a pale, pointed head, and a single fire-red eye. A black pupil shrank as the light hit it, unmistakably looking towards her.

The creature parted its lips, the gurgling rumble rippling through the air. Laura's flashlight beam shook.

An orange Theivul tale hung from the corner of its mouth, a string of shells dangling limply from the end.

She was back in the brush before she knew it. She slammed into Damian, and in a tangle of limbs, they fell together into a fern bush.

“Gah-!"

“Whattheshit, whattheshit, whattheshit-"

She pulled herself away, palms scraping on dirt, as she grabbed Damian's shirt in one hand and started yanking him with her.

“Run!"

“Where's Sally?"

“RUN!"

The branches nearby exploded, and shredded leaves tumbled through their flailing flashlight beams. Black wings hammered at the air.

“SNAKE!" screeched Razor, wobbling unsteadily as she screamed in front of them, barely managing to avoid the branches. “SNAKE, SNAKE!"

Laura leapt past the bird, pounding down the first forest trail she saw. Her feet stung from a root she'd hit while scrabbling back from the creature, but she forced herself to put her weight on it. Shit! Shit, shit-

CRRAAUUNCH! Laura stumbled as leaves whipped past her. Wood screamed and splintered, and the upper boughs of a tree crashed into the ground next to her. A sound like steam escaping from a vent hissed from behind and above them. She yelped - where was the path!? She jumped over a severed branch, hoping that wherever they were headed, it wasn't taking them deeper into the woods.

“SNAKESNAKE!" Razor shouted, darting in front of them again. The Chatot turned, one eye wide as it gleamed briefly in the flashlight - then Laura flinched as she raced back behind them.

“GOAWAY!" Razor shrieked in their wake, over the rumbling of the beast. Laura turned around to glance, wheeling her flashlight-

Razor was a black shield, wings outstretched, feathers spread like spikes - against a broad background of parting lips, and wet, pink flesh beyond-

Laura's foot caught a bramble, and she toppled over backwards. The torch went bouncing into the undergrowth.

“GOAWA-"

SNAP.

Razor's fluttering stopped. There was a wet, drum-like gulp, and then nothing but that same, smug hiss.

Fingers closed around her arm and yanked at her.

“Fucking RUN," Damian yelled in her ear. Her feet stung, her nightshirt snagged by thorns. They scrambled through the brush, twigs snapping around them. The image of that gaping maw filled her mind - no hint of Sally's tail, not even a scrap of clothing.

They'd just… gone. Without a trace.

Shit.

SNAP. Another tree behind her buckled. They darted between the low branches of another one, Damian dragging her by the arm as they half-ran, half-scrambled down a slope. Gaps in the canopy let in shafts of moonlight - the air was hazier here with low cloud, coating the forest floor in a heavy mist.

“JUMP!"

Laura jumped at the last moment over the low trunk of a tree - her foot clipped the rough bark and she tumbled - but Damian hauled her up. SLAM - they didn't look back as the tree shuddered, leaves tumbling around them - but the wood didn't splinter.

They didn't stop. Laura couldn't hear the beast anymore - or was that just because her heart was pounding so hard in her ears? She drew in ragged breaths as their feet found a clear path, some wide trail beneath tall trees. The scene dripped with shadow - no more flashlight beams to light their way. She'd dropped hers, and Damian must have done the same, and now the trail ahead was dark, hidden.

Shit. Shit!

Damian was shouting something.

“W…what!?"

“I said, have you got signal on your fucking phone?"

Laura patted her shorts as she ran. “Shit… it's back at the tents!"

“Fuck…" he yanked his own phone from his pocket. His face lit up white in the glare of the screen. “...Fucking no bars. Fuck!"

“We need to find higher ground. Call… shit, 911, someone!?"

“You think a bunch of fucking police cars could get out here?" He swore under his panting. “What about that… foundation, deals with beasts in the wild? Birch, or something?"

“I don't know! Shit, I'd settle for that Café a few miles west!" Laura leapt over a root. The pounding of their footsteps seemed uncomfortably loud. “Can you… hear it still?"

“No, but I'm not fucking stopping," Damian panted, then coughed. “...Fuck, Laura, did it… did Sally-"

“Just run, Damian."

Damian went as if to speak again, but all that escaped him were ragged pants as they pounded down the empty forest trail. Eventually, they found a slope. Clods of dirt tumbled from their feet as they scrambled up its side.

Laura grappled at a root as she stumbled up the path, pulling herself free of Damian's grip. She was halfway down the other side when she realised he wasn't next to her. Despite her chest screaming at her, she whirled around.

Damian was still at the top of the hill, outlined in a broad, cathedral-like arch of trees, beaded face glowing in the light of his phone. Pale mist glowed in the moonlight that curled around his legs. “Wait… wait. I have a bar."

Laura's breath came in ragged pants. “Can you reach someone?"

“Hang on, gimme a minute. Gotta find the number…"

Laura stared at the trees beyond him. Branches hung like fingers from the canopy, leaves waving back and forth in the cold air. It was all still, save for the swaying of the upper boughs in the unseen wind.

“I think…" Damian muttered, swiping at the screen, “...I think I have the number?"

Laura was still staring at the trees. Her heart pounded in her ears.

They weren't swaying right.

“Damian…"

Damian looked up from his phone.

It was odd. She didn't need to say anything. Her face, her voice, must have carried it all.

“...Fuck…" muttered Damian, wet eyes glinting in the moonlight.

The beast dropped from the trees and SLAMMED into the dirt so hard it shook the ground. Its mouth had been stretched wide open; where Damian had once stood, there was the gaping maw pressed against the forest floor, and then the dark, heavy coils of the snake beast tumbling atop it.

She stood, frozen, just long enough for the beast to whip its head up. Moonlight shone off a pair of black boots just before they slipped out of sight. A bulge, lumpy and twitching, slid down the beast's neck.

Laura fell over her own feet. The world whipped in front of her, branches slicing at her arms, dirt flying from her feet in the mad need to scramble away and ignore the single, wet, gulping noise that gurgled behind her.

Shit! Shit shit shit! No phone, no light, no… fuck, no Damian, no Paul, no Sally, no Razor… no plan. Except for that Café. If she could get there…

…If she could get away.

A crash behind her. Was the beast not sated yet? How could it not be sated!? She sobbed, tears leaving cold streaks down her cheeks. Branches broke and ferns crushed, either by her or by it, she didn't know - she just ran, and ran, until the trees began to clear and the forest opened up into a cliff-

Cold, hard scales wrapped around her ankle, and she pitched forwards, bringing up her hands just before her head would crack against bare rock.

In an instant Laura wheeled around and punched at the beast's tail that had snared her. It jolted and loosened for just a moment, and she wrenched her foot free, scrabbling to her feet.

She made it two more steps before a snake's coil slammed onto the ground in front of her. She stumbled, landing against it, hands sinking slightly into the hide.

Her eyes went wide. Her mouth hung open. The scales moved beneath her fingers. Just slightly - and not quite in a way she could place. But they moved all the same, and… when she saw all contours in the moonlight…

It was a bulge in the body. An undulating, human-sized bulge.

She screamed and turned around to run, only to come face-to-maw with the beast. Wet, pink-grey flesh gleamed, drool hanging off in great, thick strands, like tendrils framing the dark cave of its throat beyond. Laura stumbled back against the bulge, hands pressing against the sliding body within.

She whirled around and clambered over the bulge. She tried not to think about what her foot sank into as she did - she just focused on the edge of that cliff, so far, so near. The beast was fast, but - well, whatever was down there couldn't be worse than what was up here.

She was just a few steps away. Bare, aching feet slapped against cold rock.

Five steps. The beast was slithering behind her, that guttural, groaning hiss at her feet.

Three steps. Her muscles screamed at her. Terror was stabbing into her chest.

Two. One…

Her final step almost slipped on the edge of the rock as she flung herself from the edge.

Air rushed around her face. The canopy below spread out beneath her, a pale, undulating carpet of leaves of moonlight. In the instant before gravity tightened its grip around her, she hoped that she'd land in something soft. Was she in luck…?

The beast's head rushed in, sliding beneath her. The cavernous, waiting maw opened, and there was nothing else she could do.

Her feet hit the sides of the beast's maw, found no purchase, and sank into its throat, until she slipped hip-deep into it. She grabbed at the roof of the mouth in front of her, and her soil- and blood-caked hands came away wet with drool. The beast jolted its head, and she sank up to her chest - the pressure was so tight she couldn't even take in a single breath. She grabbed at the beast's lips, skin sliding on the soft ridges, and her fingers lost their purchase.

This time, the rumbling was all around her - an enveloping, engulfing rumble that rose to a quick crescendo of wet gurgling, and then the resounding, bass-like gulp-

The light was extinguished, and Laura's world became merely black, and small, and crushing, and falling once more…

For a moment, the flame of hope burned in her chest, adrenaline fueling it even now. Arms fighting against binding walls that flattened them against her chest, until she couldn't even take a breath if there was any air to breath, and she couldn't even manage a choking cough…

All those thoughts of clambering her way up, of fighting her way out, of seeing the moon just one more time, danced in her fading mind as she slid deeper and deeper into the warm, wet body of the beast.

The End