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Side-Write: Fear and Mercy
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 21:47:22 +0000 UTCI've been going through a lot of different things recently, mood-wise, and that put me in a weird place when I took on this side-write. I wanted to try for something happy again, but I felt a little too turbulent to settle into something sweet or quiet. This story ended up being a reflection of that. I can't call it a happy story, but maybe it's a positive one.
This doesn't reflect what's going on in the world of Project Wild One necessarily, but it's sort of a musing on what may be going on. I hope you find it a worthwhile read!
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For a second, everything stops. My shuddering nerves fall silent, and my feet stumble to a stop before I can step on the... the bodies. This...! This isn't right. I shouldn't be here.
A raccoon runs past me and the bodies, hurrying ahead. I recognize him. He's the one that told me about the "Association." A friend of a friend. We'd been talking at a bar, and when I told him about my job, he said I should definitely check it out.
I work out of a shack just inside the outer ring of civilization. I gather herbs, food, and wood from the forest to bring back into the city, while just a little further out, rangers patrol a massive circle to stop any monsters getting too close. It's nearly as dangerous as being a ranger, being that close to the wilds, but they get paid a lot better since they're supposed to actually fight. Still, I took the job, since I like living out on my own, mostly. It's just... It's hard not to keep looking over my shoulder, in that direction. The wilds are just over there, and they say that monsters slip through sometimes. Every day, I felt like I was just waiting to be the first casualty of some disaster.
The Association is basically just a bunch of people that get together to talk about how dangerous monsters are. Sometimes they draft complaints for the mayor, or request new changes to keep everyone safe. They hold some classes in self-defense against monsters, I'd been meaning to take one. But a lot of it is just getting together to complain and swap stories about scary monsters.
They liked me a lot. Said I was really brave, working out there. I didn't have any good stories, but I haven't been working there long. They'd tell me to stay safe. It felt a little better, knowing people worried about me out there, somehow.
There's a fire roaring up ahead, now. It's getting big. The others cast crazy shadows as they shout and wave sticks around. And I'm still just standing here. Someone laughs as he runs past me, howling something I can't quite understand.
It got around recently that monsters were gathering at a garbage dump. We're not even supposed to dump garbage out there, we know it attracts them, but somebody was doing it anyway. Now, people said, it was just a matter of time until the monsters gathered enough numbers to attack the town. Someone had to do something.
It wasn't that far from my shack. I hadn't heard about it, but now I really did worry about what might come out of the woods. People pointed at me a lot during the meetings. We've got to do something, they said, or it's just a matter of time until he's monster chow. Are we really going to do nothing and let them gather in pouncing range?
It was decided. We'd move in by night, so they couldn't spot us and just hide. We had to get rid of all of them. People smiled, and slapped me on the back. You'll finally be safe, they said. I did feel afraid, so I smiled. I hoped so.
They'd showed up with a lot more gear than I expected. Ropes. Drug bombs, and those drugged defense sticks. Some had armor and real weapons. Everyone was grinning, excited, so I smiled with them. We'd finally stick it to those fucking monsters. Show them we're not afraid of them. This is our city.
I hadn't been ready. Not really. There were so many of them, big and small. I saw werewolves for the first time. Everyone swarmed in, but I was too afraid. They shoved past me, attacking all the monsters they could find, drugging them unconscious. People threw ropes and nets to me, told me to take care of them. And I understood.
They can't just kill the monsters, the Gods will just make them pop up again somewhere nearby, somewhere quiet and empty. The Rangers are trained to fight without killing, so the monsters never reappear inside their circle. They always drive the monsters away, or capture them for the camps. Horrible places where monsters are basically tortured until they commit suicide. You don't come back from that.
There are bodies everywhere, now. They live, so that they can die later. Slowly, horribly, and permanently.
I look around. I'm alone with them, now. All the others have rushed ahead, to pummel down the werewolves before they can escape or kill too many of us, or spreading out to make sure none of the other monsters escape into the darkness. Shrieks and laughter. Fury. Hatred. Ash stings my eyes.
They don't look like me, or like anyone I know. They are strange, cast in many shapes and sizes, many colors, though those are muted in the light of the blaze. I don't even know what I'm looking at, with some of them. But I saw how they were. I saw them cower and flee. I saw them plead. Now they all lie limp. Some almost look like children. Maybe it's just the light. Maybe they're meant to deceive us, to trick us into letting them come close. I don't know. I don't... really know anything about them. This is the closest I've ever been to a monster. I just know that I've been afraid of them for... so long. Long before I took my new job, but moreso, since.
I try to... to gather myself. My fear. My... hatred. My resentment. We need to stop these things. We need to make the city safe. Everyone is counting on me to take care of this simple thing while they do all the hard work! I just... They're counting on me to make sure the monsters will... die.
I... can't. I can't bring myself to kill them. But... I have to. No... I re-- I really have to. I have to. I have to!
I start to scream. My arms are shaking, and I feel a crunch jolt up to my elbows. I can barely see, there's so much smoke, my eyes are blurred with tears. I move to the next one. And the next. I try not to feel it. I try not to hear it. I close my eyes, and I scream. I scream until there's nothing left in me, and I'm just... shaking a body, and hands finally seize me, pull me away. Someone punches me, but others rebuke them.
Everyone's shouting. Now some of them will come back, idiot! He must be simple, he doesn't understand. He's too scared, that's all! He works out here, he wants them dead more than anyone! We still got plenty, shut up and get them tied up!
Everything hurts. I stumble away from the fire, from the whooping and the raunchy singing. I wanted to look back, to know how many I... got... but I... can't. I can't stand to look. I want to... I don't want to see any of this. I don't want to remember any of this. I go home. I've got a bottle tucked away that might do the job.
I'm already damned tired after a day of work and... everything after... but it still takes a long time to find any sleep. I stare into the silence and the darkness of the cabin, closing my eyes when the spinning becomes too much.
Everything seems to hurt worse when I wake. I don't know how I got so scraped up, but I still just... try not to think about it. For a little while I just lie there, but... terrible things lurk in the silence. I get up and get to work.
Outside, it's already bright, and I shield my eyes. A rustle pricks at my ear, though, and I turn.
A monster. A little one. Trying to hide, but I caught it crossing and it dove behind too small a root. We stare at each other.
It bolts. It runs like a child, too.
Damn it. There must still be smoke in the air. I can't stop my eyes stinging. I get some water and scrub my face clean, take some time to just... breathe. I'm a real mess. But... my scrapes are feeling better, at least.
