” Beast Story Essay Example
” Beast Story Essay Example

” Beast Story Essay Example

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  • Pages: 17 (4445 words)
  • Published: September 22, 2017
  • Type: Case Study
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Chapter 1: The moonlight danced through the bare, twisted treetops, casting playful shadows on the snowy ground below.

Spotting him under the darkness of a large oak tree as she walked through the park, she smiled. He was watching and waiting for her. Coming out of the shadows, he approached her. "So you're here at last!" he playfully remarked as he embraced her. "I came as soon as I was able. It feels like it's been too long," she softly whispered before kissing him. "I've missed you tremendously," he spoke tenderly.

"I have longed for your presence, but not to the same extent!" exclaimed the beast perched on an empty branch. It watched the two human figures in the freshly fallen snow and eagerly anticipated savoring their youthful blood. Raising its head, it revealed a sinister grin on its snout with

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shining fangs illuminated by moonlight. Using contorted branches, the creature descended and positioned itself directly above the unsuspecting couple who were about to become its meal. "What was that?" she asked, sitting up and straining her eyes to peer into the darkness of the tree, unable to distinguish anything beyond shadows.

"What did you hear?" he asked, laughing and kissing the back of her neck. "I didn't hear anything," she replied, pointing to the tree. "I thought I heard something up there in the trees." Reassuringly, he said, "It was probably just a bird!" Placing his hands firmly on her arms, she surrendered and fell into his embrace. Suddenly, a heavy object descended from above, trapping her under him and preventing any escape from his tight hold. A strangled shriek pierced her ears, and it took a

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moment for her to realize that it was her own voice.

She observed her boyfriend's eyes fill with panic, bursting forth like a river breaking through its flood barrier. A solitary droplet of saliva fell from the predator's sharp fangs, landing on her face as it eagerly devoured her boyfriend's youthful flesh by sinking its teeth into his neck. She turned away, hoping to escape the unimaginable terror mirrored in his expression. The sight of blood flowing like crimson rivers on the snow and the fading spark of life leaving her boyfriend's motionless body confirmed that her own demise was imminent. Closing her eyes, she embraced the fact that her time had arrived.

Chapter 2

It was yet another cold and damp day in Seven Oaks, Kent. Professor Frank Warren had been dispatched from the London museum to authenticate the excavated findings of The Royal College of Kent. Amongst these discoveries were some Roman bones, coins, and pottery shards—nothing particularly valuable or captivating.

Frank grimaced as he tasted his cold coffee, hastily spitting it back into his cup. His longing to go home was palpable. Despite the rain, the workers continued to dig tirelessly. This pleased Frank, as it meant he wouldn't have to endure the mind-numbing boredom for much longer. The sound of raindrops hitting the large green four man tent brought him a surprising thrill, reminiscent of a fountain splashing on pebbles. In the past few hours, the gentle pitter-patter of rain had somewhat alleviated his frustration at the lack of new discoveries in the latest samples.

Frank, feeling content and at ease, extended his arms and released a loud yawn. He had been residing in this tent

for six consecutive weeks, finding it rather comfortable. The tent came equipped with a compact heater, a miniature refrigerator, and even offered him a small television. The camp bed ensured comfort while his workspace boasted a laptop, microscopes, as well as various textbooks and paperwork. To satisfy his thirst, Frank reached for a beer from the refrigerator.

Putting the beer down, he laid his head on the desk. Read if reflection is the bouncing of light rays off of a surface. which situation is not an example of reflection? "Mr. Warren come quickly!" Dean Jones, a worker on the excavation team, panted as he burst through the tent doors at great speed. Professor Frank Warren raised his head above the huge pile of books that surrounded his workbench.

"Nice to see you to Dean! What can I do for you?"

"We've found something, something big!"

"Calm down man! What on this earth is so important? Have you found gold dust or something?" Frank laughed and closed his thick textbook.

"Come on then, what have you found this time?"

"Look you have to come with me now! You have to see it to believe it." At six foot three Dean cast a menacing figure to the outside world.

Despite his tough exterior, Frank found Dean to be as tender-hearted as a puppy. Chuckling to himself, Frank had grown to admire Dean, the gentle giant, during their six-week excavation. Whether it was a Roman coin or a piece of pottery, even the smallest find would fill Dean with excitement and turn him into an enthusiastic child. Trembling with anticipation, sweat dripping down his face, Dean's heavy breathing from his recent sprint made

it difficult to understand his words.

Dean's serious expression made Frank uneasy. "Just come now!" Dean yelled, then swiftly vanished from the tent. Frank got up and followed, trudging across the wet, muddy field. Dean was desperately battling through the thick mud, which had turned to slush due to the relentless rain. Frank joined him, feeling like he was walking with heavy lead boots. The dig site was occupied by fifteen men and women who, after six weeks of digging, had created a small hill and a twenty-foot hole in the ground. All the diggers were gathered around the hole, captivated. As Frank approached, he saw the pure horror reflected in their tear-streaked faces.

As he increased his speed, his curiosity grew and he felt a tingling sensation on his skin. He wondered to himself, "This must be very important." Although the sunlight was intense, he couldn't understand why everyone seemed so restless. When he peered into the cavity, someone handed him a flashlight that easily pierced through the darkness. Soon enough, he caught sight of them.

Fear gripped his stomach, heaving its contents through his mouth and on to the muddy ground beside him. Twenty feet beneath ground level lay the drained, decaying human caucuses of ten babies, each of which had their heads removed. Chapter 3The ground was so hard after yet another day of heavy snow that Willie was having great trouble penetrating the frozen earth with his spade. The combination of many years' heavy digging and working outside in all weathers had left Willie's hands tired and old.

Arthritis had started a few years ago, causing each day to be more painful than the previous

one. "I am becoming too old for this!" Willie grumbled to himself. At sixty-five, all he wanted was to go back to his wife Vera, their warm and cozy home, a plate of hot food, and just stay there. He wished to retire and spend his time gardening or playing golf perhaps. With a sigh, Willie dropped his spade to the ground.

He sat down on a nearby log, taking a well-deserved break. Retrieving a pouch from his pocket, he proceeded to roll himself a cigarette. Quietly contemplating, he sat there for a few minutes, exhaling large quantities of smoke into the chilly air. His mind was consumed with dreams of retiring early. Only a few feet remained until the grave reached its required depth of six feet, with its counterpart lying just a few feet away. The other grave had been completed only hours ago, but due to scheduling constraints, he had to finish this one and conduct the service as the first appointment in the morning.

According to a conversation overheard between the priest and one of the fathers, the graves belonged to a young girl and her lover. Their deaths were extremely violent, making it difficult to identify their remains. Their skulls were separated from their bodies and what remained, which wasn't enough to fill a single coffin, was torn apart and scattered as if an animal had been feeding on it. The police, who had to collect various body parts, speculated that either a large animal or a deranged person had murdered them.

But why? And what kind of animal with enough strength capable of killing two humans like they were mice can be

found in Kent? Maybe Africa but certainly not Kent! "Poor mites!" Willie thought as he picked up his spade and continued to dig. The graveyard was dark now but the full moon gave out enough light to cast shadows behind the tombstones making them seem alive with evil. Everyone had gone home leaving the graveyard deserted and Willie on his own. Willie shivered. You would have thought that forty years in the grave digging business would stop you getting spooked about death but Willie feared ending up here more than anything.

He pondered the imminent arrival of the youthful duo who would soon reside in these burial plots. Willie, currently deep below the surface, began feeling uneasy. Yearning to depart, he quickened his digging pace. Suddenly, a breaking branch startled Willie, causing him to release his shovel. Carefully peering from within the newly excavated grave, he scanned the surrounding cemetery. Nothing could be seen. Willie chuckled inwardly.

"You silly old fool!" He resumed digging with his spade. All of a sudden, a big shadow obscured the moonlight. Feeling warm breath on his neck, Willie realized there was something behind him and immediately stopped. Summoning his bravery, he slowly started to turn around.

In Kent, Willie's grip around his spade tightened as he found his voice and questioned the presence of another creature. He realized that this animal had already killed two people in a gruesome manner and he feared becoming its third victim. The beast violently tore into Willie's neck, resulting in his final scream echoing even after his dismembered torso fell into a premature grave.

Chapter 4

Frank Warren struggled to move forward as the rain poured down heavily,

almost pushing him over. His goal was to reach the children who were desperately calling out for help: "Help us Frank, PLEASE HELP US!" Despite running faster, the mud grew thicker and wetter, impeding his progress. Meanwhile, the babies' screams persisted while the rainfall showed no signs of abating.

Thunder broke the clouds, setting them ablaze with lightning. With what little energy he had left, he freed himself from the sticky mud. Escaping for his life, he sprinted towards the distant whispers of children's voices. "Fear not, everything will be fine. I'm coming, children, I'm coming!" As he approached the brink of the pit, he peered into the deep darkness but was momentarily blinded by a brilliant light that burned his eyes. And there they stood.

He can see them, but their heads are missing, as voices without mouths plea, "Help us retrieve our heads!" Frank abruptly sat up in bed, drenched in sweat and struggling for air. It had been three weeks since he discovered the corpses of those unfortunate infants. The image of their decaying bodies had haunted his dreams nightly, causing him to wake up trembling and weeping.

The past two nights, he had not slept at all, causing him to appear haggard with dark circles forming around his eyes, indicating the physical signs of stress. Additionally, Frank had lost a significant amount of weight. Whenever he attempted to eat, the scent of decay overwhelmed him, leading to vomiting. Upon hearing the high-pitched alarm beeping, Frank angrily threw the clock against the wall, resulting in it shattering into small fragments. He then reached over to his bedside drawer, took off the lid of the valium

bottle, and ingested two pills. These dreams were severely affecting his mental state.

Frank attributed his recurring dreams to his prolonged sick leave following the incident, as it provided him with ample time to reflect and mourn. He believed that instead of constantly reviewing that fateful day with supposed counselors, he should focus on moving forward and embracing life once more. The official inquiry confirmed the presence of an underground tunnel at the excavation site, potentially an abandoned mine tunnel or similar structure.

Although there were no reports of the missing children, their presence in the area for around six months remained a puzzle. Autopsies discovered that these infants were between three and twelve months old and horrifyingly, all of them had been beheaded. The media responded to these shocking incidents by offering significant rewards for apprehending those responsible.

Frank endured a two-week period of unrelenting harassment by a group of individuals. These harassers camped outside his house, depriving him of any peace. The constant disturbance caused Frank's friends to stop visiting him and rendered his phone unusable. Frustrated and desperate, Frank reached out to his coworker at the office, informing him that he had made the decision to return to work. He expressed how unbearable it had become for him to continue being trapped in this situation. In response, Frank's coworker Wes greeted the news eagerly and arranged a meeting for the next day.

Chow, Frank ended the call with a feeling of relief after taking action in his life. He had hope that he could now progress and put this experience behind him.

Chapter 5 - The rain poured continuously, similar to the decline in their customer base.

George and Mary Amos owned a small farm and ran a shop in town to sell their produce. However, because a big supermarket opened up nearby, George's business was gradually decreasing.

The supermarket had a lower price advantage compared to him, causing George to release a heavy sigh. Unless business picked up soon, it would face financial losses. Throughout the day, George had been alone in the shop except for one customer who only purchased bread and milk. At sixty years old, his chances of retiring with a significant amount of money were rapidly diminishing.

George eagerly anticipated the joy of enjoying a bowl of Mary's exceptionally tasty homemade soup at 5:30. He held Mary in high esteem, particularly due to their fifty years of blissful marriage, and could confidently affirm that his love for her had only deepened over time. Their connection extended beyond being romantic companions; they were also best friends and soul mates.

George's face beamed with delight as he fondly recalled their wedding day. He was attired in a suit borrowed from his older brother, while Mary donned a dress fashioned by her mother using salvaged parachute silk. Their reception took place at the local pub, and even now, George could still sense the smoothness of that dress as they gracefully danced on the pub floor, brimming with sheer happiness. After retrieving the day's modest profit from the cash register and securely depositing it in the safe, George retrieved his mackintosh and hat from the stand, meticulously checking the pockets for his keys. Lastly, he changed the sign on the door to indicate closure, locked up, and entered his jeep.

It took him thirty minutes

to drive to the farmhouse he lived in with Mary. George adjusted the radio dial, listening to wartime songs in his ears. He skillfully navigated the winding country roads, having been a resident his whole life.

He was familiar with every pothole and bend on this particular road. When he reached the turn off for his farm, a smile crossed his face. The sun was setting, casting a dusky hue over the fields. George parked his car outside the farmhouse and immediately felt a shiver run up his spine. The hair on his neck stood up, indicating that something was amiss.

Something was off, but he couldn't figure out exactly what. Then he realized, "Where's Ben?" Their retriever, Ben, would always meet him at the jeep, barking excitedly. But today, there was no sign of him. "Ben, Mary, where are you?" he called out, but there was no response, not even a sound from the birds in the sky. He hurriedly made his way into the kitchen.

His soup was boiling and hissing as it overflowed from the pan onto the open flames. George, concerned for his wife Mary who suffered from angina, hastily searched the house before rushing outside to check the barn. Worried thoughts raced through his mind: what if Mary had experienced an attack or had fallen and couldn't move?

As he ran, he forcefully entered the barn, screaming Mary's name. His heart started to pound heavily when he saw his beloved Mary being attacked by an unknown creature. The creature, with its furry and tangled fur drenched in Mary's blood, stood at a towering height of at least seven feet. It had brutally torn Mary's

head off her body, leaving her lifeless torso on the ground, with her blood slowly seeping into the hay.

The creature quickly turned its head and stared at George with its deep black eyes. Mary's life essence was dripping from its sharp teeth, forming a small puddle on the barn floor. George began to tremble, his heart pounding so rapidly that he feared it would burst from his chest. As he looked around the barn, George noticed that his four beloved horses had suffered a similar fate as his wife. Anger coursed through him, fueling his rage.

Retracing his steps, George retreated towards the door where he stored his loaded shotgun. Thank goodness it was ready! He attempted to keep his aim steady while tears welled up in his eyes, and he fired at the creature's back. In response, the beast flung Mary's dismembered skull to the ground and lunged towards George, tearing his flesh to shreds with its razor-sharp talons. George collapsed onto the floor, landing in a viscous substance. "Ben!" Wholly overwhelmed by the beast's immense weight, it crushed George's chest, causing his own ribs to puncture his lungs. A deafening roar erupted from the creature.

Lifting George's head with its large paws, the beast smacked it on the concrete, causing his skull to crack in two like a coconut. As George's life flashed before his eyes, he thanked God for spending it with Mary and keeping his promise to her. He vowed to never live without her. Chapter 6 reveals a bitterly cold disused tube tunnel, where the wind howled through. However, George's thick layers of fat and fur provided some warmth. Within this carved-out

section of the tunnel, which miners once used as a resting spot, was the lair of the beast. The walls consisted of thick stone, with an underground stream flowing through.

Across the stream, a pile of trophies lay. Tonight's dinner was a cow that had been saved from the kill the previous night. It had been a satisfying feast; the old woman's brain was delicious, but he didn't find the man's brain particularly tasty. He rarely left the tunnels, only venturing out when the supply of rats in his path had dwindled. While rats were fine as a snack, they didn't make a satisfying meal.

Flesh was satisfactory, but the best part for him was brains, particularly those of human babies. He had successfully eluded capture thus far by concealing himself in these tunnels, but he was aware that they were searching for him. He could detect their scent. His strength was increasing, and he was aware of it. When they eventually arrived, he would be prepared for them, but for now, he understood that it was crucial to heed his instincts.

They were unprepared for his intelligence as he licked his fur, cleaning the wound he sustained last night, removing fragments of bone and dried blood. Exhausted, he lay on his side, gradually breathing more shallowly until he entered a world where there were infant brains for every meal. Chapter 7 Captain John Spencer paced restlessly in his office, moving so swiftly that his lieutenant Jack Davis wondered why his ankles hadn't ignited. "How did this happen? Heads will roll for this, and I'm certain mine will be first. I just know that the General will

demote me because of this, I just know it!" Captain Spencer's face turned an odd shade of crimson, and droplets of sweat traced paths down his round face.

"Sir, with all due respect, if we find this thing we will all be in the clear," Lieutenant Davis attempted to reassure his commanding officer, but it appeared that he was not paying attention. "We have successfully disguised sightings of this creature as another bodmin beast or something similar, but we will not be able to conceal it if someone happens to capture it on camera." Sweat was now drenching his face. Lieutenant Davis handed him a tissue. "We were able to attach a tracking device to it before it escaped, but unfortunately, the device has no signal. Most likely, he has removed it by now." "It has been six months, Davis."

Captain Spencer was expressing his concern about the growth and strength of a certain entity after six months. He also questioned its eating capabilities. Lieutenant Davis responded by mentioning a recent report about Project thirteen, which involved the entity fleeing from a farm in Aylesford. The search at the farm revealed the decapitated bodies of a couple, as well as several animals. Captain Spencer asked about the last confirmed location, prompting Lieutenant Davis to search for the coordinates in the paper file on his lap.

"First it was Westenhanger then it was Maidstone and then last night, Aylesford. It seems to be heading north towards London."

"Have we got Maidstone barracks on the case?"

"Yes sir but they don't know what they're looking for, this being classified."

"If that thing gets to London I can't even begin to think of how

much damage it could do." Captain Spencer's face had turned a bright beetroot colour and little spit balls had collected in the corners of his mouth. He wiped his sweaty palms on his dark green uniform and picked up the telephone.

"Yes Martha. Can you please provide me with Professor Wes Browne's phone number? Thank you."

Chapter 8Frank looked up at the museum in amazement as he exited his recently washed silver Ford Mondeo. The sun was shining brightly, its rays bouncing off Frank's newly polished shoes, reflecting its own joy onto the stunning old building.

He brushed off his freshly pressed pinstripe suit and savored the moment. It marked the beginning of a new chapter for him. Although he had been away for merely a few weeks, it seemed like an eternity. Inhaling deeply, he dashed up the staircase to the grand entrance doors, overwhelmed by the nostalgic scent that triggered a sneeze and instantly brought back memories from his childhood.

He recalled visiting this museum as a boy, fascinated by the massive T-Rex skeleton, and captivated by the fossilization process. This experience played a role in his decision to become a paleontologist. As Frank strolled through the expansive entrance hall, lost in his thoughts, he suddenly found himself embraced by Karen Bates, the receptionist, her ample bosom nearly suffocating him. "Professor Warren, you're back!" Karen exclaimed, squeezing him even more tightly.

"It's nice to see you. How have you been coping with, well, you know?" Karen released him and offered him a sympathetic look that conveyed her understanding of his experiences. However, it was impossible for her or anyone else to truly comprehend what he had been through.

"It's good to see you too, Karen." After taking a moment to take deep breaths, he smiled.

"And I'm fine thank-you. So, what's been happening whilst I have been gone? Not to much excitement I hope?""Not much really. This place is so dead, excuse the pun."Oh right, well never mind. Right, I'm going up to my office.

"See you later," Frank said as he made his way up the stairwell to his office on the third floor. The office, roughly the size of a tiny bedroom, had one wall adorned with his qualification certificates. On the other wall, there were several small shelves displaying various artifacts from different parts of the world, such as a lion tooth from India, a salvaged ivory tusk from Africa, and a crocodile claw. "Hi Mr Warren."

Mr Browne is absent today because he has been summoned elsewhere," informed Ellen, Frank's secretary, who was already seated at her desk organizing the mail. She remarked, "You also have a considerable amount of mail waiting for you." Greeting Ellen with a smile, Frank replied, "Pass it over, and I will review it." Before starting to file paperwork, Ellen winked and said, "Good to have you back." Sitting at his desk, Frank placed his coat on the chair and his briefcase, along with the mail, on the desk. He opened the first letter, which came from the laboratory and contained test results about a substance he had discovered in an African cave.

Professor Kym You, from China, sent a second letter requesting Frank's expertise in studying unusual fish fossils. Frank, a palaeontologist with multiple degrees in genealogy, archaeology, and chemistry, was renowned for his knowledge in animal

behavior. He not only observed and studied animal movements on location but also delved into their natural communication and interactions. One of his specialties was predicting lifestyles and predatory habits of both living and extinct animals, such as the Dodo and dinosaurs. By analyzing evidence, Frank could anticipate the next destination of an animal.

What would they eat? Where would they drink? He also found just about all of the artefacts stored in the museum, often travelling to far-out countries, Indiana Jones style, to discover them. Wes Browne was a genetic scientist. In particular, he liked to study animal genetics. They had met at collage when they were forced to share a room and been friends ever since. The two of them worked well as a team with Frank doing the groundwork and Wes doing the lab tests.

They were engaged in the search for a specific gene governing an animal's current instinct. The progress made so far had been somewhat unfruitful. As Frank immersed himself in his growing pile of paperwork, which had been steadily accumulating since he left, he found himself consumed by his work and not preoccupied with those infants for the first time since that specific day.

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