My Epic Battle With The Beast

Roy Chi

Some beasts possess the unusual ability to defy
the God-given laws of normality. These monsters, as some would
call them, demonstrate superhero-like qualities that allow them
to seem human while still maintaining a naturally feral
appearance. You might assert that this is impossible, as
humans are the only living beings capable of true emotional and
moral awareness. I will be one to rise and declare that such a
statement is untrue, for I have seen such a beast. On February
14th, 2006, I encountered it.

It all started at approximately midnight, as I sat on my bed
reflecting on the events of that day. Flustered by the unresolved
decisions that I had to make the next day, I tilted my head back in
exhaustion. With a somewhat relaxing exhaling breath, I opened my eyes
to see the beast in the distance–stealthily waiting for me to drift
off into my slumber. I closed my eyes in hopes that when I
opened them again, it would have disappeared, passed off as
only a figment of my manipulative imagination. But alas, it was still
there. Unsure of whether or not it had seen me, I began my journey to
slay the beast.

I desperately searched for a weapon strong enough to penetrate its
natural armor and fast enough to overcome its immeasurable speed.
Limited by my lack of resources, I picked up the only weapon in my
reach: a September issue of FHM. Some might say “FHM” stands for “For
Him Magazine,” but at that moment in time, I came to know it as “For
Hunting Monsters.” Internally transformed to take on the
characteristics of a jungle predator, I slowly crept up on the beast,
never once allowing myself to be distracted from my mission. As I was
close enough to obtain a clear visual of the target, a chilling wave of
piercing sensations flowed down my spine. Its eyes, dozens of them,
maliciously glared at me, as if to say: “Don’t you even dare.” But I
dared. Knowing full well the deadly consequences that pursuing this
mission could entail, I dared.

As I was only an arms-length away from the eight-legged Yeti, I
extended my arm back–afraid that my weapon was going to slip out of my
sweaty palms. With all the strength I could muster, I slammed the FHM
down, hoping to destroy the beast with one quick attack. The beast,
however, dodged my strike and leaped onto my unguarded face. Suddenly
vulnerable, I frantically slapped myself to prevent the beast from
entering a facial orifice. After a few moments of slapping my own head
and twisting my body in every which way, I caught a glimpse of the
beast flying onto the ground. In a shot of rage, I immediately picked
up the beast in my hand and I crushed its very
existence. Throwing my fist in the sky, I proclaimed my
victory over death.

After flushing the beast down my toilet, I fell on my bed as a sharp
pain traveled through the right side of my neck. It must have been
during my spastic defense that I unknowingly sprained it. After
topically applying a fingertipful of a Tiger Balm-like remedy
on the affected region, I realized that my grueling triumph did
not come without injury. I did not smile for I knew that the beast was
not dead. A beast like that never truly dies, but reincarnates as
another beast. One that I know I will encounter once again in battle.
And until that day comes, I will be ready for it.

I closed my eyes, exhausted. As I began to slowly drift into an
oneric state of subconscious animation, I swore I could hear a
faint laughter coming from my bathroom.



~ by roychi on February 16, 2006.

5 Responses to “”

  1. Roy, that beast was pretty darn formidable.  I was trembling all over reading.  Go Roy!

  2. Someone has been playing to many RPG’s…

  3. What a talented writer you are… and A FREAK! hahaha Roy, do you need another visit from your good ol buddy to bring back sanity? Hope you’re well PEACE!

  4. LOL! great story. well written.


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