THE FERAL BEAR [REVISED]

I stepped into a downtown corner diner that was modestly busy. It’s L-shape provided a counter that ran along both lengths of the inside, while an array of booths sat against the large windows. There were several people I knew who were on the far side already engaged in their meals. I seated myself at the counter perusing the help wanted section of the newspaper.

I walked down the near end of the counter to ask the cashier if they had any positions available. At a booth straight across from the counter sat an associate conversing with a friend. Seeing him out of the corner of my eye alerted my anxiety as I felt sure he was watching me; he was, as always, looking and waiting for my next great embarrassment.

The cashier politely informed me that there was nothing available. I walked away knowing my associate had seen this interaction and was now sneering with his friend at how foolish I had looked receiving the rejection. I made my way to a booth near the corner of the diner, sitting down beneath a cloud of angst.

As I sat down I caught a brief glimpse of a bearded man sitting in the booth behind mine. He wore a dense red and black flannel jacket and over his mangy brown hair he had pulled a hat down low, covering his eyes. We sat back to back in our respective booths, though soon he had turned, bringing his head to my shoulder to whisper in my ear.

From his rough, growling voice came a stream of hushed taunts and jeers, so violent in nature that I was too shamed to react . I could feel his facial hair scratching against my neck as his raspy breath, foul and hot against my ear, moved me to severe discomfort. Still I did not stir, frozen in this moment of discordant affirmation.

By some miracle, I shook myself free of the unwanted attention, escaping from the booth stiff-necked and into the bathroom; though part of me knew that he would follow me there.

I stood alone in sick anticipation, facing the door and awaiting his arrival. What little bravado that attempted to stir within me was soon quelled by an unnatural and extraordinary event. Soon, the bathroom door was thrust open violently, as the man had transformed into his true nature, an oversized feral bear whose own body was bulging at the seams with exaggerated viciousness.

In seconds, his bleeding eyes advanced on me with savage purpose, overcoming me with a mass of ragged fur whose stench alone could have bent my will. He knocked me back against the wall, throwing my weightless body around to assert his control. When I attempted escape, he secured my elbow in his seething jaws. Amidst his heavy panting he growled:

“Don’t you know what’s happening here? I’m going to kill you.”

A realization of pure, innate fear overwhelmed me as a terror-fueled adrenaline rush allowed me to somehow escape from his grip, tearing out of the bathroom and through the length of the diner to burst out of the doors.

A flock of individuals were waiting for me outside. I screamed at them to run, to flee as fast as they could. They joined me in my flight as we spilled into the sunless suburban terrain. As we split off from each other, I took my course through backyards and was soon joined by two peers, male and female, running abreast of me.

We found ourselves in a yard that transformed itself into a box-shaped room, isolating us with the soon-approaching beast. In this room, my companions possessed the power to manifest anything with their minds. They went about in a calm frenzy, preparing the room with ideas and tools for a defense and hopeful defeat of our enemy.

Seconds passed as we awaited his arrival. His plangent gallop from afar echoed forcibly in the room, growing louder and louder as he neared. The blackness of his caustic quest overwhelmed me. He would stop at nothing to rip my heart out and claim it.

When his pounding steps reached an unbearable apex, he had arrived. The Bear threw himself against the barrier of the cube, crashing into the room with reckless hatred. A battle ensued where I found myself keeping out of harm’s way, watching as my two companions took themselves against the enemy.

My companions proved to be equally matched, wearing down the enemy with cunning traps and methods. The Bear slowly diminished in size, weakened and no longer the menacing threat he was in the diner. He was to become the man he used to be. I searched through the wreckage and aftermath of the battle as my companions sat down with the Bear. I could not allow his transformation without personal vindication.

Sitting on his haunches in defeat, the Bear expressed remorse for all that had transpired. My companions listened, replying in sympathy as they desired to offer him their aid. I listened from a distance as I found what I was looking for among the mounds of discarded ideas and tools.

I held in my hands a shovel. I calmly loaded the shovel with a deck of cards and with candle in hand lit a blaze of revenge.

The Bear was earnestly listening to the words of my companions as I approached him with purposed feet. I hated him and wanted him to see the vengeful wrath that boiled in my eyes for what he had done: I was but a piece of soulless flesh that could be used and destroyed without a care.

I stood in front of the Feral Bear with my companions flanking me in silent protest. With vacant expression, I threw the burning embers directly into his remorseful eyes.

I watched him writhing in his pain, screaming as the fiery cards seared upon his face, burning him beyond recognition. I felt he so justly deserved what I had given, yet I found myself void of the fulfillment that I was so sure would be mine with this deed. Vindication had apparently eluded me in my quest for redemption.

Why could I not find fruition in destroying the face of a monster?