Freak Show

So this is my version of what really happened in the jungles of India, when they discovered a small boy that had been raised by wolves.

“Are you sure about this?” Jack asked, gripping the catchpole in his hands until his knuckles were white. His eyes wavered on the loop of rope that hung from the end of it, wondering how many poor beings had found their end tangled within it. He shuffled nervously, his boots crackling the leaves under his feet like glass.

The man in front of him turned and hissed sharply, motioning sharply with the large wooden hammer that he gripped in his right hand. His eyes were hard, regarding the world and Jack with distain as he wheeled.

“Don’t let them know that we are here,” He snarled. “We only get one shot at this before they move, and I want that thing alive.”

Jack hung his head for a fraction of a second, nibbling on his bottom lip before he stuttered. “Maybe we ought to just leave this one alone,” He said, letting some of the pressure in his hands loosen. “We should just go back and leave this be.”

The man in front of him turned, a snarl dominating his features. The hammer in his hand sneered with him as he looked at Jack. “Are you getting soft on me boy?” he asked, motioning again with the hammer. “Because soft people don’t get paid.”

Jack hesitated, a defiant phrase tickling the inside of his mouth before he closed his eyes and hung his head. “No, you are right. I am sorry for saying anything.”

The man looked at him, his harsh eyes analysing his every word before he muttered. “Good. Now get into position and wait for my word.” He slipped the hammer back into his belt, before he backed away, quickly disappearing into the large leaves that they were surrounded by.

Jack looked at the ground, turning a huge brown leaf over with his foot. Surely there was a better reason for them to have travelled all this way. There was no need for what would happen next, but if he wanted to eat in the future he had no choice but to comply. He took a deep breath, failed to swallow the lump in his throat that was choking him, and settled on his haunches.

The two men had walked through the thick jungle for the entire day, and they had done little more than swear and swat insects that seemed too large to be viable. The man that was in charge, Robert, had come all this way because of a simple rumour, and going back empty handed was not an option. They had searched and searched, and were about to give up when they finally found what had been evading them all that time.

The den.

It was hidden against the base of a cliff, and the opening in the rock dropped instantly into darkness. Wild guttural sounds echoed off of the ancient rock, and Jack could not help but flinch every time a noise came from within it. The clearing in front of the mouth of the cave was littered with bones, starched by the sun and picked almost clean. The last of the meat that clung to the brittle remains had long since rotted, filling the air with the smell of decay. Even the light that filtered through the trees seemed to avoid this place, angling off at unnatural fractals to avoid piercing the veil of darkness that shielded whatever lived there.

Jack crouched, watching as Robert’s face slowly appeared on the other side of the clearing, pushing the huge domes leaves out of the way. His mouth was set in a hard line, and he slowly nodded, signalling to Jack that now was the time to move.

It was time to step into the clearing.

Jack slowly rose to his feet, feeling his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly pushed his way through the now impossibly thin layer of leaves that barred his way. Every step that he took seemed to fill the air with noise, and his breaths halted in his chest as he slowly made his way down into the clearing. Then he winced as his boot pushed down into the dirt, snapping one of the bones that lay there with a crisp snap.

Jack froze, not knowing what would happen to him, before something rumbled from deep within the bowels of the cave. Terror seized him and held him still as something snarled again, letting him know that he was not welcome there. He could do nothing but watch as something slowly stepped out of the cave.

It growled, white teeth bared on a ragged muzzle as it delved out of the darkness. Its eyes were filled with hate as it regarded him, making his intrusion clear. It walked slowly on thick paws, its fur matted with time before it stopped in front of him. Its head dropped low, a snarl still painted along its features before it suddenly lunged. Jack yelled, his hands flying to his face. Bones twisted under his feet, grabbing him and pulling him to the ground.

The wind rushed from his lungs, and for a split second all he could hear was a ringing in his ears before the animal was on top of him. Hot rancid breath washed over his face as it snarled, teeth snapping an inch from his face. Jack raised his hands, burying fingers into ragged fur weakly holding it off as he tried to lift it up and off of him. Its claws raked the ground next to his face, trying to rip and tear his flesh before it lurched on top of him.

An inhuman scream poured out of its muzzle, and something splattered on his face. The animal bucked, trying one last time to end his life before there was a sickening sound of metal twisting in flesh. The animal yelped sharply, its legs losing their strength before it collapsed onto him. The air rushed from his lungs with a whoosh, before the weight rolled off of him like water. The animal’s body lurched and flopped onto the dirt, as its breaths bubbled in its lungs.

Robert pulled his knife from it side, wiping the deep crimson from the blade before he sheathed it. His hand extended, and Jack took it before he stood. His head felt fuzzy and his ears were ringing, but he was unhurt. He looked down at the animal that had attacked him, its chest heaving as it battled to breathe.

  The wolf was huge, larger than he had ever seen before. Blood coated the fur of its muzzle, and it shuddered, a low whimper gurgling in its throat.  As it did so, something else whimpered back, and the men turned to see something else emerge from the shadows of the cave.

It was a small boy, and he completely ignored them as he ran along the ground to fall to his knees next to the wolf. His small fingers twisted into the blood matted fur, and he murmured a low whine. Tears fell onto its muzzle as a small sob escaped his lips. The wolf slowly lifted its head, almost humming as it nuzzled the boy for the last time. Then its head fell back to the ground, shuddering with the beginnings of death as the boy looked up at the two men.

His small blue eyes were filled with pain and confusion. The skin of his face was streaked and smeared with dirt and dried filth, and his hair was matted and greasy. He opened his mouth, revealing dark rotting teeth, but no words came out. He was dirty from head to toe, and the only thing that he was wearing was a small loincloth, composed of a single piece of rancid fur.

Ever so slowly his features started to change, his eyebrows knitting together as his tiny face merged into a mask of rage. He opened his mouth, letting loose a guttural scream before he leapt to his feet. A small knife of bone appeared in his hand, and he lunged with lithe aggression, pain pouring over his lips. The blade of the knife slashed, and fabric tore loudly before Robert pulled away cursing loudly.

Before Jack even knew what was happening he lunged with the catchpole, looping the rope around the boy before tightening it and wrenching the boy to the ground. The boy screamed, clawing at the rope around his neck with one hand, as he struggled to escape. He wriggled like a fish, tearing at what was choking him with his nails. The fingers of his other hand were curled tightly around the handle of the knife.

Robert was instantly upon him, his eyes alight with rage. The hammer flew to his hand and before Jack could do anything he brought it down sharply onto the boys fingers. There was a loud crack and the boy shrieked, but refused to let go. Robert struck the boy again and his screams filled the air, but again he refused to drop the weapon. In a last ditch attempt the boy heaved on the ground, slashing weakly with the knife before Robert caught his hand in his. With a savage twist, bones snapped and splintered and the boy screamed, before the knife slipped from his bloody fingers and onto the ground.

The wolf yowled weakly, as the boy whimpered, curling into a small ball. He sobbed loudly, wrapped weakly around his wounded hand.

“Why did you do that?” He snarled as Robert stood.

Robert snickered darkly. “He has another hand doesn’t he? Besides, he almost got me.” He turned to show Jack the large tear in the fabric of his shirt. The boy had almost plunged the knife into Roberts belly, and he turned and kicked the boy sharply in the ribs as he continued to cry.

“Shut up!” He snarled.

Jack held the catchpole, his arms shaking as the boy slowly started to pull himself along the ground. Blood coated the dirt as the boy gripped it with his fingers, dragging himself towards the dying wolf one more time. Then he sobbed, his voice cracking as he fell short. Fat tears rolled down his face, his one hand extended out above him, trying to touch the wolf once more. The wolf could do nothing more than watch with hollow eyes.

“Enough of this,” Robert said, kneeling next to the boy and cracking the hammer hard across his skull. The boy instantly fell limp, and the wolf yelped weakly, its legs twitching as it tried desperately to stand. Jacks fingers slipped from around the catchpole, as Robert grabbed the broken boy and heaved him over his shoulder. Then he turned and walked into the trees, droplets of blood staining his back.

Jack slowly bent down, his fingers again finding the handle of the pole as his eyes found the gaze of the wolf. One shining eye looked back at him with pain and hate, but Jack could see that there was something else lurking there. Behind the veil of aggression there was a layer of sorrow, and it was overwhelming. Jack could feel something tugging at his heart as he gripped the hammer in his hands.

The wolf was trying to protect her cub.

“I have a job to do,” He said, tucking the hammer into his belt. His face was hard, and emotionless as he turned his back on the wolf’s suffering. Ever so slowly he walked away, leaving the wolf to be silently claimed by the forest it loved.

 

Twenty years later, he stood at the back of a room. The room was filled wall to wall with people, and they bustled about muttering excitedly. They were all dressed in fine clothes, and they talked in excited tones, waiting for the big red curtain at the front of the room to finally lift. Jack leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. The hair upon his head was starting to mottle with grey, but he had failed to forget what had happened in the jungle all that time ago.

He was distracted by the lights dimming, and the crowd fell into an excited hush as the curtain parted and Robert emerged from behind it. He was dressed in a top hat and tailored suit, and in his hand was a long black staff. The amount of weight that was supported by the cane gave away how the years had affected hi, but Jack could see the glint in his eyes from the back of the room.

He raised his hands to still the crowd before he started to speak, his voice loud and rich.

“Twenty years ago, a colleague and I travelled to the vast jungles on India to capture some of the amazing specimens that live there. When we were there, we heard a strange story. We were told, that there was a small boy that lived in the jungle, in a cave not far from where we were staying. The legend said that the boy was abandoned in the jungle by his mother, and was left to die exposed to the elements. However, he did not die.

The story said that the boy had been adopted by a wolf that had taken him in as one of her cubs and raised him as her own. Being the intrepid adventurers that we were, we could not resist the temptation to investigate. When we arrived, the wolf attacked, defending her cub with her life. We had never planned to harm the poor beast, but she was intent on killing us both so I had no choice but to end her life with as little suffering as possible.”

Robert hung his head for a moment, feeling the weight of the room before he continued to speak.

“So we took the boy with us, but the amount of time that he had spent in the jungle had taken its toll. He was a human, but had the mind of the beasts that had raised him. We did everything that we could to drive the animal out of him, but he was wilder than we ever could have imagined. Every time we tried to interact with them he would attack with severe aggression, screaming garbled nonsense. All attempts to interact with him have failed miserably, because his mind is twisted with feral rage.”

Robert stepped back, his fingers clutching the fabric of the curtain that was behind him. The crowd that watched drew in a breath as one, as Robert pulled the curtain back with a flourish.

“Here is the monster!”

The first thing everyone saw were the thick bars of the huge metal cage that he was housed in. Small bones and soiled hay covered the ground of the cage, dribbled with specks of blood. Crouched in the back corner of the cage was a man, and his eyes were masked by long matted hair. His skin was flecked with dark black and blue bruises, and his right hand was curled against his chest, crippled and feeble. A thick chain was looped around his neck and secured to a bolt on the floor. The skin underneath the chain was rubbed raw, and a set of matching manacles was looped around his wrists. As the curtain pulled away the man flinched, curling up into a smaller ball in the corner.

“Come on out and let them see you,” Robert said, leaning onto his cane once more. The man didn’t move. Robert hobbled over and poked his came between the bars, jabbing the man sharply in the ribs.

“Let them see you, you filthy animal,” He snarled, jabbing at the man again. The man winced, pain evident on his face but he never made a sound. His mouth was in a determined line, and he again refused to move.

People jeered and booed, egging Robert on as he lifted the cane and snapped it across the man’s back. The man flinched and pulled away and the people in the crowd jeered and laughed as he moved away from the pain, shuffling around feebly in the cage.

“As you can see any attempts to communicate are useless,” Robert said, circling the cage as the man hunched in the middle of it. “I suggest that you all stay back if you value each of your appendages.”

With a flourish, Robert pulled a chicken leg out of his pocket, holding it out in front of him. The chicken was about a foot away from the bars of the cage, and the man’s head turned as he sniffed the air loudly. Then ever so slowly he shuffled forwards, drawing closer to the edge of the cage. Robert wiggled the meat back and forth as the man stopped behind the bars, his fingers outstretched to grab the morsel of meat from his greedy fingers. Robert sneered and let the meat fall from his hand, and the man snapped it up, returning to the center of the cage to devour it.

The people of the crowd jeered as the man ate, groaning with disgust.

“As you can see, he is nothing more than one of the animals that are on display here,” Robert said, tapping the bars of the cage with his cane. As he did so, the man’s head shot up, his eyes locking on Robert.

Everything after that happened very suddenly.

The man thrust the chicken leg into his mouth, and wrenched down snapping the bone with his teeth. He spat loudly, letting the globule of meat fall from his mouth before he sprung, his legs extending like a frog. Thrusting himself into the air, the man lunged crossing the floor of the cage faster than any had thought possible. His left hand gripped the ragged chicken bone tightly, and his body slammed into the bars. His arm shot through the space, jerking downwards and burying the sharp edge of the bone into Robert’s neck.

Robert stood there for a second, surprise barely registering on his face as the room fell into a deadly silence. He started to sway, blood bubbling on his lips before someone finally screamed. The noise vibrated in the air, startling everyone into action as Robert grabbed the side of his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. The knobby end of the bone jutted out from between his fingers, stained deep red. He coughed, splattering blood along the floor in front of him before he lolled to the side, flopping onto the ground.

The man was screaming now, as the men in the crowd grabbed whatever they could get their hands on and descended upon the man. Their faces were alight with the vicious glee of rage as they tore open the door of the cage. They held him down, their blows falling one after the other as the man yelled with defiance and pain. Blood stained his teeth as he grinned at them wickedly. Bones snapped and cracked, and the man lurched on the floor, his limbs twisting in the soiled straw beneath him. Even after he has stopped twitching their blows still fell, thudding on dead flesh.

When all of it was over, blood stained the ground, tracing the lines of the floor. The two bodies were covered with white sheets, letting the red weep through the fabric.

 As the bodies were taken away it was impossible to discern which one had been the victim….

 and which one had been the monster.

 

Author's Note

What did you think? Also I did go over this but there is always a chance that I may have missed something, so creative criticism is always welcome here.