Shed Light on Blood

The wise folk of the village spoke of a terrible tale. Once every century, a sleeping beast would be woken to terrorize the village. It was the curse that had befallen our otherwise calm and beautiful place. It was that time of our century, the year of the beast; the hideous monster that seemingly appears out of nowhere and sheds blood. He feeds on fear, death and anguish. No one had ever seen the beast, but tales from ancient folklore describe it as an enormous, dark wolf. Its eyes red gleam in the moonlight and its black fur stained with the blood of its victims; its teeth as sharp as the sharpest blades and a filthy rotten yellow. Its breath could burn the hearts of children and its roar could deafen anyone who merely picked up on that horrendous sound. 

“The savage is here!” she screamed. The whole village was in commotion; men, women and children alike running for nowhere. There was no escape; the wrath of the beast was omnipotent. The village soon filled with the shrieks of the helpless. It was at this moment that the army of the forsaken stood affront, pitchfork and torches in hand. These were men with no cause; they enjoyed the opportunity to kill. They stood valiant at the gates of the village, waiting anxiously -- while others ran for nowhere -- for the beast to appear. “We the men of no cause have no fear!” yelled their captain, raising his torch high facing his men. His army began to roar in unison banging their weapons on the cold, dry ground. The dust began to swirl slowly. The moment would have been a glorious one had it not been for the howl. It appeared from behind them.

All the men turned around in one swift motion and there stood the monstrosity, its eyes closed, and head facing downwards. “Why do you beckon me forth?” it asked, its grey, icy breath caressing the already shivering men of the forsaken army. “We call you forth so we may destroy you beast!” shouted the brave captain. “Silence!” it roared, “Do not question fear my wasteful foe. Do not deny the death you see standing before you. I am the violence you seek. I am the king of doom!” with those words the beast had lunged into battle, ripping limb from limb of every man it brushed passed. Its feet were drenched in the blood that flowed like a river beneath it. It in itself was unharmed. The torches, pitchforks or swords could do nothing against it. It was impermeable, invincible; last stood the captain of the forsaken army, quivering and bleeding. “You dare challenge me?” the beast threatened, its breath burning the man’s skin. It roared loud and thunderous raising its paws to slash the man’s throat when appeared another voice a woman’s. “Stay” she said. The voice brought warmth to the air that seemed all but lost for the ages. The beast stopped instantaneously and put its deadly, blood-stained paw down. “Come to me” she said. There was no one around but the beast was facing a particular direction, its alert ears now pointed downwards. It was subdued. As the beast moved closer to the sound, the form of a woman became more and more clear and where there was just a voice stood an angel. The fur of the beast turned white as he moved towards her, his blood red eyes turned jet black, his rotten teeth now not rotten, his hot breath now calm and peaceful. “Why must you hurt yourself so?” she asked caressing the beasts head. his eyes shut, his ears down and he whimpered. All the anger suddenly gone, he sat himself at her feet and continued whimpering.  He howled to the full, bright moon, now brighter than the sun itself and the dead soldiers rose to their feet, the blood on the ground turned to water and all was well again.

The angel laid her soft hands on the now majestic beasts chest, his heart beat steady and calm and all watched in wonder as it turned into a frail man kneeling at her feet. As I watched from a distance I had to know what coy this was, “Who are you mighty angel? Who are you, the one who has tamed the beast?” I asked. She looked at me, a simple smile on her face, and said, “I am the one who sees no beast. For what lies beneath your fears and anger is a child. I am the mother of everything” and in a bright, brilliant light, they disappeared. The tales of old still remain a mystery to me.

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