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Man and Monster: Chapter 1

For the first twenty-six years of it, my life was pretty normal. I was the human known as Ryan Agawaateyaa, who lived in a rural town in Minnesota. I worked a 9-5 job for the town's lone thrift store, and spent my off hours taking care of my small rented house. Overall life was average.

Until my twenty-sixth Halloween that is.

The last thirteen hours of my life as an average human were spent cataloging the enormous pile of junk we had gotten. I had almost gotten everything put away, when an old, faded red box fell out. Curiously, I picked it up, and opened the small box. Inside, in faded wrapping paper was a necklace. Instead of a pendant or a crystal, it instead had a small dreamcatcher. Next to it was an old tintype photograph of a muscular Native American man. If I was guessing, I'd say he was Owijibi. Around his neck was the exact same necklace in my hand.

Let's just say this guy was absolutely intimidating. He looked like a pre-comic book version of the Punisher. Of course the whole picture was black and white, but the guy's eyes seemed a little weird, like they were an unusual color.

"Hey Chuck, come over here" I said.

Chuck Walker, the store's cashier, walked over. Chuck was my best friend since middle school, and also my part-time lover. We weren't boyfriends exactly, but we did have some fun sometimes. Deep down, I was pretty sure he had a fetish for nerds, because otherwise, there were plenty more attractive people than me, the local biracial beanpole.

"Yeah Alex?" he asked in a deep voice. Chuck was 6'4", muscular, and hot as hell. If you couldn't tell already, he was also gay.

"Found this weird necklace in the new donations" I said. "Came with a picture of the Native American take on the Punisher."

"Lemme see," he said. "Oh shit man, this is an actual picture of the Wendigo!"

"The Wendigo?" I asked confusedly.

"Yeah, he was a local wrestler in the late 1800s. He was so brutal, some contestants would forfeit immediately if they had to go against him. You know, so they wouldn't have their asses handed to them figuratively and literally."

"Damn, this must be his pendant," I said. "You think I can buy it?"

Chuck winked, "Sure, if I can have the photo."

One small purchase and thirty minutes later, I was at my house, getting ready for tonight's Halloween party. My "costume" consisted of a battered plague doctor mask, and I decided the dreamcatcher necklace couldn't hurt to wear.

As I held it, a growling voice echoed in my mind.

Put on the necklace. Take my power for yourself.

Then it was gone. Confused, I held up the necklace.

The dreamcatcher part was colored in black with white thread, while the beads and feathers were blood red. It was unnerving-looking and pretty cool. Shrugging, I put the necklace on. For some reason, I could faintly hear growling laughter, then silence.

Still confused, I decided there was no time to waste, then put on my mask and got going to the party.

The party was situated at the house of the Landersons, a retired couple in their forties, who believed that there was nothing greater than the almighty power of a good time. Mr Landerson had worked as the head of the local brewery, and still commonly tried his hand at his craft. Mrs Landerson had been of all things a stripper in her youth, and still rocked the MILF look.

She would commonly still put on a show at the adults-only house party every Halloween. You could hear the sound of the party from several blocks away, and I quickly hurried towards it. I had begun to feel odd, like a cold feeling in my chest, which was slowly spreading out, but I chalked that up to the October chill.

As I stepped inside, I was blasted by the techno music, and I could see Mrs Landerson doing a pole dance. I quickly stepped towards the bar, and saw Mr Landerson, a bear of a man, handling the drinks. As I came forward, he saw me, and smiled. "Hello there Ryan!" he boomed. "How's manning the junk house?"

"Same as ever," I replied. "It's slowly corrupting me into a hoarder. But hey, at least I got a new necklace." I showed him the necklace.

Mr Landerson smiled. "Looks sharp on you, sport. Now what are you having?"

"What's your special today?" I asked. Mr Landerson rummaged around, and produced a glass of brown and orange beer. I took a few sips, and enjoyed it. It was a sort of combination of pumpkin, cinnamon, and alcohol.

As I nursed my drink, the cold feeling continued to spread. Mr Landerson looked over at me, and frowned. "Son, you're shivering. You should probably head home. Might have caught a bad cold or something."

Confusedly, I looked at my arms. They were much paler than usual, and like Mr Lnadershon had said, were shivering. I was also beginning to lose fine motor control, and shakily set down the glass. I then nervously stumbled out back the long drive up to my house.

As I stumbled along, shaking like I was caught in a blast chiller, my chest began to feel even weirder. It felt like something deep in my chest was hardening, and I felt my heartbeat slow down, and then stop.

Yet somehow, I still moved. I still felt cold, but it was no longer invasive, but almost comforting. Even the October chill no longer felt aggravating. Minding you that we lived in Minnesota, where in winter, you could throw water outside and watch it turn to ice in midair, that was extremely concerning.

Stopping, I rested my hand against a fancy new sports car, and, to my surprise, heard a screech. Looking at the car, I saw five long, deep cuts on the car's chassis. I then looked down at my hand, and immediately wished I had not.

At first, I thought someone had added fake black nail extensions to my hand at the party. Then I saw that was impossible, mainly because I no longer had nails.

I now had inch-long, jet-black claws on my unnaturally pale hand.

As I stood shaking, looking at my transformed hand, I heard the growling voice again

Well, it looks like the first parts are done.

Now, its like you mortals say;

Time for phase two.

But first, take off that stupid mask, and look in the mirror first.

That's what everyones seeing from now on when you're not in my form.

Believing I now suddenly had manifested schizophrenia, and I was hallucinating all of this, I slowly took off the old plague doctor mask. I barely restrained myself from screaming.

It was obviously clear I was no longer human.

For starters, let's begin with my head.

my skin was unnaturally pale, and all my hair had turned an onyx black. My eyes had turned blood-red, and the pupils were diamond-shaped. My teeth were now half and inch long, and were now all pointed fangs. And don't forget my new claws.

"W... w... what's happened to me?" I uttered softly yet panickedly.

My power is simply leaking into your form from my "home". One wore my vessel before. Now, you too will gain my effects.

"The pendant..." I whispered.

Yes, yes. You're going through realization. But don't fret, you won't have to worry about that for a while.

Just about hunger.

"What?" I said as the cold feeling traveling around my body began to increase in intensity.

It started in my hands, which quickly were transforming themselves, becoming larger and lankier. My claws-already impressive-also increased in size, becoming three inches long, and serrated.

My arms also grew, becoming longer than any human arm. They increased in musculature, disproportionately to their size, giving them the appearance of being both muscular and emaciated. Patches of black fur also grew on them, appearing like disjointed sleeves to my arms.

Next, my chest began to transform. It grew larger and broader, ripping my shirt (a nice one) to shreds. Its muscle mass also grew erratically, making my toros appear both powerful and starved, with an exposed ribcage, but clear brawn. Unable to support the weight, my legs collapsed out from under me, and I ate concrete.

Cold, black blood spattered out from my broken nose, and a sharp fang cracked, falling from my horrifically changed face. Unconcerned, my transformation continued to my legs.

They were transformed the most, lengthening and changing shape, gaining a new joint, and the biceps and calves modifying their size and length. My feet gained the appearance of bird legs, shredding my socks and sneakers, while also growing a sixth toe on the back of my foot to stabilize it.

A long, boney tail slithered out from my back, hanging over my somehow surviving (though still trashed) pants. My pubic patch expanded to cover the bottom center of my stomach. I then realized with horror that my manhood was now strangely missing.

You really shouldn't take away someone's junk without asking first, I thought.

The voice only snickered.

Now, there was only part of my body to turn into a monster.

My head.

"Ghaaa" I rasped, as the effect creeped up the back of my skull. My hair thickened and lengthened, stretching around my neck and shoulders. The raspy voice laughed cruelly.

This is always the best part for me.

"Oh no no no no no" I grunted, as the feeling began to spread around my head. Two deer-like horns sprouted from the back of my head, spreading to a truly respectable height. As the transformation spread to my face, the flesh began to simply dissipate, leaving only my skull. My eyes boiled away, leaving two articulated, red rings of light in my sockets. They were in a single line, because I had my eyes clenched shut,

As the last of my face's flesh disappeared, my skull began to stretch out into the shape of a deers, while my fangs grew to a much larger size.

And finally, it was done.

Shakily, I got myself to my transformed feet, and looked down at myself. I was now 8 feet tall, covered in pale skin and black fur. My new tail whipped around as I looked at my clawed hands.

"What am I" I asked. My voice now sounded like a chain-smoking bodybuilder.

A wendigo, the voice replied.

"No..." I whispered.

Oh yes. Now, let me give you a pointer on your first time. You're going to be ravenous the first time you Change. So go hunt some humans or something. I've found they repopulate quickly, and you're currently surrounded by them.

Suddenly, it hit me. It was a feelling of a man who had not eaten or drank in weeks, and was currently surrounded by a food-filled oasis. The last of my human personality was completely overwritten by this feeling, until all that remained was the greed, hunger, and cruelty-filled personality of a wendigo.

I raised my skull into the air, hatefully screeched into the night, and lopped off to find some humans to kill and eat.

To be continued...