The Beast God

Chapter 3: The Monster Within

Damon woke up in a room that smelled like rotting meat and chemicals. The walls were sticky and pink, like the inside of a giant stomach. Glowing green tubes hung from the ceiling, filled with floating creatures that had too many eyes and teeth. His body felt heavy. When he tried to move, metal chains clinked around his wrists and ankles.

“Finally awake, I see,” a calm voice said.

The antlered man stood in the shadows, his dozen eyes blinking slowly. He stepped into the dim light, his mirror like teeth shining. “You’re lucky. The Beast God chose you to become something... better.”

Damon yanked at the chains. “Let me go!”

The man laughed. “Why? You should thank me. Look at what you’ve become.”

Damon glanced down. His arms were covered in thick, black scales. His fingers ended in sharp claws, longer and darker than before. When he breathed, smoke curled from his nostrils.

“What did you do to me?” Damon growled.

“We improved you,” the man said, tapping one of the green tubes. Inside, a human heart pulsed, connected to squirming tentacles. “The Beast God wants you to be its perfect weapon. Soon, you’ll join it and together, you’ll remake this world.”

Damon’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to be a monster. But the power in his veins felt... good.

The antlered man left, and Damon slumped against the chains. He noticed a small vent near the floor. If he could break free, maybe he could squeeze through. He pulled harder, the scales on his arms cracking like armor.

Snap! The chain on his right wrist broke. Then the left. His claws sliced through the ankle chains like butter.

“New strength. Nice,” he muttered.

He crawled to the vent and ripped off the cover. The tunnel inside was narrow and slimy, but he wiggled through. The walls pressed against his scales, and the smell of decay made him gag.

After minutes of crawling, he dropped into another room. This one was worse. Cages hung from the ceiling, holding half human creatures some with wings, some with extra limbs, all whimpering.

A weak voice called, “Help...”

Damon turned. In a corner cage was a boy, no older than sixteen. His left arm was twisted into a bony blade.

“Please,” the boy begged. “Don’t let them turn me into a monster.”

Damon’s claws twitched. He could leave the boy and save himself. But the kid’s fear reminded him of the girl from the subway.

“Stay quiet,” Damon said, slicing the cage lock.

The boy stumbled out, clutching his bladed arm. “Thank you! I’m Eli. They caught me last week. They... they made me like this.”

Damon frowned. “Can you fight?”

Eli nodded, raising his blade arm. “I’ll try.”

They crept through dark hallways, avoiding patrolling Flesh Tenders. Eli pointed to a metal door. “That’s where they keep the Beast God’s gifts.”

Inside the room, shelves were packed with jars of glowing organs and vials of bubbling liquid. Damon grabbed a jar of eyeballs that blinked at him. He dropped it, disgusted.

“We need to get out of here,” Eli whispered.

A loud screech echoed. The antlered man appeared in the doorway, his eyes blazing. “Naughty little weapon. You’ll regret this.”

Damon shoved Eli behind him. “Run!”

The man lunged, his antlers slashing like knives. Damon blocked with his scaled arms, sparks flying. Eli stabbed the man’s leg with his blade arm, making him stumble.

“Go!” Damon yelled, pushing Eli toward the exit.

The antlered man grabbed Damon’s throat, lifting him off the ground. “You’ll never win. The Beast God owns you.”

Damon’s claws glowed red-hot. He slashed the man’s arm, and it fell off, dissolving into black sludge. The man howled, retreating into the shadows.

“This isn’t over!” he hissed before disappearing.

Damon and Eli ran through twisted hallways until they found an exit a torn metal door leading outside. The air was thick with smoke, and the ground shook like something huge was coming.

Eli pointed to a crumbling highway. “My group’s hideout is that way! They’ll help us!”

Damon hesitated. Helping others meant slowing down. But Eli’s hopeful face made him nod.

They dodged mutated rats and spiked vines, finally reaching a subway station guarded by survivors. A woman with a scarred face stepped forward Anya, from the tunnel.

“You!” she said, raising her machete at Damon. “Why did you come back?”

Eli jumped in front of him. “He saved me! He’s not like the others!”

Anya glared but lowered her weapon. “Fine. But one wrong move, and I’ll cut you apart.”

That night, Damon sat alone by a fire. His scales had faded, leaving his skin raw and bleeding. The mutations were unstable sometimes he was human, sometimes a monster.

Eli handed him a torn blanket. “You okay?”

“No,” Damon said. “Every time I use these powers, I lose myself a little more.”

“But you saved me,” Eli said. “That’s still you in there.”

Damon’s claws retracted, leaving normal hands. For now.

A roar shook the ground. In the distance, a massive shadow moved a Harbinger, taller than a building, with glowing red eyes.

Anya ran over. “We need to leave. Now.”

Damon stood, his scales returning. “I’ll distract it. Get everyone out.”

“You’ll die,” Anya said.

“Maybe,” Damon said. “But I’d rather die human than live as a monster.

He ran toward the Harbinger, smoke trailing behind him."