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.

 

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~ 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.

  5. YOU’VE BEEN TAGGED, FOO!

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