/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance

>>341943

It was on one of those days when we first met her. I suspect she had been there many times before, listening to the stories in secret, but that day I accidently threw Percival's ball so it rolled right next to her hiding place. Percival, God bless his sweet little heart, only saw a girl and very chivalrously invited her to sit with us. To my shame I initially only saw Isabella Beaumont the odd girl. She was about my age but, like most of the odd girls, she was rarely seen and I had certainly never met her. There was no mistaking her appearance though. Her right hand was wrapped in a crude homespun scarf which hid something far too long and large to be a girl's hand. Her hair was wild and unkempt, but she was always careful to keep a shock of it over the left side of her face. Rumor said that it hid her witch eye: an orb the size of a hen's egg capable of seeing a world beyond the mundane one of light and shadow.

I felt quite uneasy as she mutely followed Percival and sat on the grass before me. I wasn't aware of any tale of an odd girl doing anything bad to a decent person; apart from always beating us normal girls in contests of love at least. But I couldn't shake my apprehension. I nervously started reading for them. My voice quaked until I saw Isabella's eye widen with a fascination matched only by Percival's. My confidence grew and I continued with renewed vigor. When the tale ended Percival jumped up and urged us to help him act it out. His joy was contagious and soon both Isabella and I were following his directions. That shrub was a fierce dragon, those weeds a goblin army, that rock a mighty citadel. To this day I can remember how furiously Isabella blushed when Percival seated her on that old rock and proclaimed her the fair princess of the realm in whose name the dragon would be slain.

After that Isabella didn't miss one of our storytimes. She never spoke of it, well she never spoke really, but she must have been terribly lonely. For our part Percival and I were delighted to have a playmate. With my legs it was impossible to keep up with the other children and sweet Percival would never abandon me. But we soon discovered that Isabella could effortlessly lift me and tirelessly carry me wherever we wanted to go. With me on her back and Percival lugging our packed lunches (he insisted this was "The man's job.") we explored the forests around our home for the first time. Isabella was invaluable in this endeavor thanks to her witch eye. The rumors were at best exaggerated as it turned out to be relatively normal. It had no discernable pupil or iris, but that wasn't so different from Blind Jacob's eyes. The true oddity was the deep blue sclera. It had a compelling beauty which Percival remarked on repeatedly, much to Isabella's embarrassment. There was a kernel of truth to the rumors though. When looking through her witch eye Isabella seemed to be able to see things not apparent to others. She had an unerring ability to lead us to places fascinating to children: a tumble of massive rocks, a hidden glade, an abandoned cabin, or a waterfall with a cave behind it. She hid her eye not out of shame, but out of convenience. It seemed to take significant concentration for her to process the sensations from it and she must have preferred to keep it blinded most of the time. Her arm was another matter. It was a long time before the day came when she felt comfortable enough with us to share that secret.

>>341944

It turned out that was also the day Percival won Isabella's heart. He noticed that she was scratching her bound hand constantly and he so persistently asked her what was wrong that she finally relented and let him examine it. I remember she couldn't look either of us in the eye while he unwrapped it. We both gasped when we saw what lay beneath. I gasped in shock. Her right hand was more of a claw. Each of her fingers was elongated and narrowed to a wicked point. Worse yet, each of those sharpened fingers was attached to cable like tendons going up and down her arm. I shuddered to imagine the terrible blows she could unleash if she so desired. Percival, as usual, was better than me; he gasped in sympathy. Percival saw that her skin was horribly dry and cracked and that the condition had been greatly exacerbated by the coarse homespun she wore. He quickly pulled a little pot of ointment out of the panoply of odds and ends all little boys seem to carry around in their pockets. Isabella practically jumped out of her skin when he started to apply the medicine and babble about how she needed to take better care of herself. I could see the emotions flash through her eyes. Shock that she didn't repulse him. Gratitude that he wanted to help her. Most of all, I saw a sense of a deep longing fulfilled. Her eyes grew wet with tears of joy as she, a girl who was never looked at, let alone touched, had a nice boy who cared about her gently caress her hand. It was such a pure, sweet moment for her I felt like a dirty voyeur watching him tend her claw as she awkwardly hugged him with her normal arm and her heart surged with love.

From then on helping Isabella became a project for Percival. It was doubly sweet since I'm certain that at that time he had no designs on her heart. He was certainly too young to have designs on her virtue. He just did it because he wanted to help his playmate. He collected all sorts of topical creams for her skin and soft fabric scraps for her to sew into clothing or bindings. He was always after her to take her arm coverings off and let her claw get some fresh air and sunlight. He saw her knotty hair and saved up his allowance to buy her a nice ox horn comb from one of the craftsman farmers down the way. When he noticed that she was unconsciously clenching her right arm trying to make it seem smaller and getting cramps for her efforts he started massaging her arm muscles in addition to her hand. But the most important thing he did was constantly tell her to stop trying to hide herself. She never heeded him, but the continuous reminder that there was at least one person in the world who liked her for who she was served as a balm for her very soul.

I could see the new happiness shining in her eyes every day. She just seemed more comfortable somehow. She would be on cloud nine when she listened to me read while Percival massaged her claw. They would cheer at the happy parts, hug each other during the scary parts, and when the story was over she would leap up with him and act it out. She even came to peace with her claw to the point that she started to relish stepping into the role of monster, brandishing her gruesome hand and making scary throat noises as she chased "Sir Percival" around. The fact that the "monster" got to grab Percival and hug him when it caught him may have played a part in her preference for the role. She even stopped clenching and hiding her arm so much, instead letting it move freely and naturally. She would still cover it with one of the crazy quilt bandages her mother made from Percival's scraps whenever anyone else was around, but she had clearly ceased to see it as some horrible thing apart from her. Honestly, it was a little bittersweet for me to watch her. I was happy for her but an uncharitable part of me felt like I, the cripple, now occupied a point below even that of a monstrous Odd Girl. But she and Percival never showed me anything but love and respect. In fact they practically treated me like an adult. I picked the stories, I decided what we would do, I chose where we would go, I judged who had won our games… in a way I was the fairy princess of our childish Wonderland. Looking back, those were among the happiest days of my life.

>>341945

Of course childhood and its simple comforts must end eventually. Mine ended shortly after my stepmother got a commission to make mosaics for a respected private secondary school in town. She had always valued education and negotiated free tuition for Percival and me as part of her payment. Each day that year we would ride the bus down the mountain to go to classes while stepmother worked on emplacing the countless thousands of stones in her mosaics. I was in heaven. There were so many books and laboratories and the teachers knew so many things. I could feel my world expanding and a craved more, more, more. In my selfishness I didn't notice that Percival wasn't having such a good time. I don't know if I can ever forgive myself for that.

Percival was no dunce. At first he was as happy as I was. But he quickly become detached and moody. Daddy and stepmother both thought it was just teenage rebellion and seemed relieved it was so mild. To my shame I barely noticed at all. Isabella didn't notice because he always put on a brave front when she came by. At the time I was a little miffed that he was treating her more cordially than me. If only she had used her witch eye… but she didn't ever use it on people back then. She changed her policy after- but I'm getting ahead of myself. The situation finally exploded one day when Isabella came over to visit. She went to hug Percival when he suddenly pushed her away and ran to his room sobbing inconsolably. He wouldn't let any of us girls into his little room, not even his mother. It took Daddy over an hour to calm him down enough to get the full story out of him.

Miss Elders was from old money in the county. The family had fallen on hard times but as the sole heir Miss Elders had turned things around. She was a widely respected expert on education and held advisory and leadership positions around the state, including a headmistress position at our school. She knew everyone from the governor on down and often hosted high society gatherings at her family's mansion on an isolated mountain property. At some point Percival had caught her eye and she started to get very friendly with him. It started out with simple praise, then some private instruction, then "please sit on my lap", and so on. At the later stages Percival had known something was wrong, especially when he saw her treating other boys the same way. But he had been afraid to say anything because from his perspective this had all been his fault, a perception she no doubt carefully cultivated. She had also hinted that if he told anyone his mother would lose her job and I would be kicked out of school. The situation had come to a head that very day when she had started to… touch him. That was too much for him and had he fled, hiding in a maintenance room until the bus came. Now he was convinced that his mommy would lose her job and I'd be kicked out of school all because he was a dirty, used up slut that no girl would ever want. The last was why he had broken down. He was convinced that Isabella, I, and even his mother would never want to be near him again once we found out what he was. Daddy had comforted Percival as best he could, but Percival couldn't be moved on that last point. He had explicitly asked Daddy to tell us the truth so he wouldn't "Deceive us."

After Percival cried himself to sleep Daddy and stepmother had an intense whispered argument. I think Daddy wanted to get his kith and kin together to lynch Miss Elders while stepmother was arguing that we should call the police. I don't remember as I was too busy feeling my world fall apart. My baby brother had been used because of me, and I hadn't even noticed? I felt like the real monster of the story. I was snapped out of my funk when Isabella started wheeling me out to Daddy's smithy. Her expression hadn't shifted from neutral since Daddy had relayed Percival's story. Once we were alone she simply looked at me in askance, as if she wanted my permission. Somehow I knew what she wanted to do and, God forgive me, I wanted it to. I nodded. Isabella nodded back and took one of my ribbons to tie her own hair back, revealing her witch eye. I had never seen it like this. The eye was surrounded by pulsing blood vessels and the beautiful blue had changed to the ugly red of congealed blood. She looked meditatively in the distance for a moment and then shredded her arm wrapping with an angry flick of her claw. Before she walked into the woods she turned to me and said the only words I would ever hear her speak:

I SEE HER.

>>341946

< As previously hinted at, this spoilered bit is the horror movie part of the story which I deliberately omitted last time. I'm not sure if this is what people wanted or not when they asked for "more". You can safely skip this spoilered section if you understandably don't want actual slasher movie stuff with your "slasher" monster girl romance. Suffice to say the monster girl exacts horrible vengeance on the false ara 3DPD and her vile minions.

The next day the town paper released an extra edition covering the "MANSION MASSACRE". The police had finished their preliminary investigation of the crime scene and had given the press their tentative conclusions. First, the attack had to have been conducted by an animal, probably a rabid bear. All of the victims had been killed by massive trauma from either claws or heavy objects. No human could have possibly been strong enough to perform the feats described. Second, although the body had not been found the animal was certainly dead. There was a significant discrepancy between the number of empty shell casings found at the scene and the number of bullets found embedded in objects. The police surmised that those missing bullets were inside the animal and, given the number, they must have caused the creature to expire soon after it had left the scene. Third, and most shockingly, the animal had done the Law a huge favor. Miss Elders hadn't just been molesting my little brother for fun; she was a procurer. The police found several runaway boys from troubled homes hiding in small basement rooms below the mansion. Based on their testimony Miss Elders had used her positions at schools to befriend and groom them, enticing them with promises of wealth and adventure in the big city. Documents found in her office told the true story: those boys were destined for lives as prostitutes in grim urban brothels. The most damning evidence of all were the remains of several Mafia notables and soldiers found at the mansion. Miss Elders had been hosting some sort of underworld meeting on that fateful night.

Using the positions of the bodies, shell casings, property damage, and testimony from the boys the police were able to provide a rough outline of the battle. The first two to die were Miss Elders' chef and chauffeur. They had been playing cards in the kitchen when the "bear" exploded through the thick wooden servant's entrance door. Both bodies were impaled with multiple wooden shards and each was practically decapitated by a powerful blow from a claw. Neither managed to draw their weapon. The noise must have alerted the entire mansion since all of the other victims seemed to have been aware of the danger and died either fighting or attempting to flee. There's some confusion about the order of events in the servant's quarters after that. The bear seems to have taken a circuitous course through the warren of rooms, killing those it met either by chance or some imperceptible design. One off duty bodyguard was killed by a blow which eviscerated him and threw him against a wall hard enough to break his spine. The butler was found attempting to hide in an armoire. The bear somehow detected him and punched through the wardrobe to literally pull his guts out. Another, more alert, bodyguard managed to get off a shot with a hunting shotgun. He missed and the bear retaliated by opening him up from pelvis to jaw.

>>341948

At this point the residents of the mansion had to have known something was very, very wrong. To their credit the mobsters reacted in a calm and professional manner. The main body forted up on the second floor and sent two armed groups of three to scout the route to the garage, and escape. One armed team encountered the intruder by the main staircase. At this point the "bear" story becomes particularly difficult to swallow. If the police are to be believed the bear crashed through a wall in order to surprise the mobster with the submachine gun. After a practically surgical stab through the heart it pivoted and punched its claw underneath the shotgunner's jaw and into his brain. It then somehow accidently knocked a decorative sword off a wall display hard enough to send the blunted weapon spinning across the room with enough force to almost cut the third gangster's torso in half. An impressive feat for a dumb animal.

Upon hearing the fight the second scout group moved to assist and met their end in an even more improbable fashion. Not seeing the bear they rushed to help their fallen comrades. Apparently, by some miracle of God or Satan, the bear had "accidently" pulled the pin on a grenade carried by the dead machine gunner who had "just happened" to fall in such a way the spoon hadn't released. Thus when the other gangsters disturbed the body the grenade armed and exploded, killing two of them. Perhaps the "bear" should have bought a lottery ticket. At this point the last scout must have panicked. The police found a circle of shell casings and there where bullets from his gun embedded in every wall of the room, as if he had turned in place while firing in full auto. Most likely scared out of his mind he then put his back up against a large marble statue so nothing could sneak up on him. That was when the bear, who had been hiding on the other side of the statue, pushed the massive stone over for some reason. Needless to say the gangster was killed instantly.

Having killed everyone on the first floor the bear then ascended the main staircase and attacked the main body of gangsters. The creature seems to have dispensed with subtlety at this point. It simply knocked down the door to the room they were in and attacked. This should have been the end of it. There was only one entrance and the men had cleared the room to create a killing field. Based on the evidence the gangsters must have scored multiple direct hits here. But the creature wasn't deterred. In fact, it managed to kill several more gangsters with its miraculous ability to accidently fling objet d'art from the wall with deadly accuracy. One man ended up with an engraved silver platter where his diaphragm was supposed to be. Another managed to catch a beautiful glass seashell with his eye socket. I particularly liked the granite bust of Caesar which careened from a wall alcove to shatter the skull of an unsavory character nicknamed "Leering Larry". A real meeting of the minds there.

>>341949

No doubt disturbed by the bear's resilience the remaining mobsters retreated to the room behind them, barring the door with materials they had prepared beforehand. This room had no other exits, but they had readied rope to make an escape from the window. The mansion overlooked a very steep incline on that side so their plan was to reenter the mansion via the first floor window directly below them and escape while their pursuer wasted time breaking through their barricade. However once again the "bear" displayed cunning far beyond that of an animal, or even most humans. As the remaining gangsters quickly descended the rope one by one they discovered that the bear was already waiting for them in the room below. It must have killed them remarkably quickly and quietly as they lost another three men before something alerted them to the danger and they cut the rope. Here the psychological strain began to tell as the survivors started to behave very erratically. One of them either committed suicide or was shot at point blank range by his associates for reasons unknown. Another attempted to escape the building by leaping from the second story window. His scheme was foiled by the steep slope as he broke an ankle upon landing and tumbled several hundred yards down the hill where he lay helpless for almost an hour before succumbing to severe internal injuries. At this point the only living criminals were the mob underboss DelTonio, his lieutenant "Chisel", and Miss Elders herself.

Here once again the sequence of events becomes somewhat unclear. For whatever reason the bear did not attempt to force the barricade and the survivors cleared the barrier and left the room of their own free will. The police were at a loss as to why they were willing to leave a place where they seemed to be safe, at least temporarily. In any case the survivors split up with the two men making their way to the garage and Miss Elders going to her office, again for reasons which the police could not even guess at. A running gun battle then erupted between the two gangsters and the bear. There were spent shell casings from their weapons all the way from the main staircase to the garage. This did not seem to have been panic fire as the bullet holes had surprisingly good grouping and there were more casings than bullets found, indicating multiple direct hits. All of the evidence points to two hardened criminals with combat experience retreating in good order all the way to their vehicle. Why the criminals then died of simultaneous massive heart attacks is a mystery. The only clue is that both men had looks of horror on their faces and both were looking at something directly in front of the car when they died.

Miss Elders got the absolute worst of it. Whatever killed those people saved her for last and did a real thorough job with her. Nothing fancy, it just worked her over with the claw to the point where the police had to carry her out of there in a bucket. I think she knew she was doomed pretty early on. Whatever else she was, she was from around here. I think she recognized her fate roaring down on her and knew she couldn't fight it. She just went to her office, sat down, and started drinking heavily. I do wonder why she didn't kill herself though. A bullet would have been a lot quicker than what the "bear" did to her. Maybe she couldn't bring herself to do it. Maybe she retained some tattered shred of fear for God's laws. Who knows, maybe in the end she felt she deserved it for the horrible things she'd done.

>>341950

The events of that night's "Mansion Massacre" had rendered Daddy and stepmother's argument rather moot. Miss Elders would never hurt anyone ever again and the convincing defeat of her gangster associates kept organized crime out of our area for a generation. People might scoff at our superstitions and ghost stories, but they still want to be in a nice busy town with lots of lights when it gets dark around these parts. Especially after being shown such a graphic reminder of the power of the unexplained. Given the generally positive outcome the police didn't investigate much after that. They stuck with the rabid bear story and focused their efforts on chasing down the Mafia leads found in the late Miss Elders' papers. A lot of those cops were mountain boys at heart. They might not have known what spook or ghostie did the deed, but if a creature of the night wanted to help them balance the books of law and order they weren't going to complain.

I was rather impressed when the police released their final report. They claimed that based on their forensic analysis the mansion intruder was struck by 29 bullets. They were dead on. I counted when I helped Isabella pull them out after she got back in the early morning. She was able to get some of them out by squeezing herself the way you'd pop a pimple, but I had to go fishing for the rest. I was terrified I was hurting her but she would just shrug and shake her head a little every time I asked. There was bizarrely little blood. The only injury which bothered her even a little was the silver monogrammed letter opener someone had stuck her with. Once that was extracted she was more concerned about checking on Percival, but I made her sit until everything was out and she was cleaned up. I swear, she was worse than a five year old getting a haircut. If I wasn't so horrified at the fact she'd been shot I would have been much firmer with her. I finally let her go and watched through the window as she tiptoed into Percival's room and sat by his bedside. She looked so sad for him and what he'd been through. But she put a smile on her face the instant he started to stir. Percival woke up to Isabella beaming at him and moving one of his stuffed animals around like it was happy to see him too. The look of relief on his face was heartbreaking. He really believed we would think he was dirty and unlovable because of what happened. When Isabella and Percival both started hugging and comforting each other I turned away with tears in my eyes. I could never repay my debt to Isabella. But that didn't mean I shouldn't try I thought as I started melting down the evidence I'd pulled out of Isabella's body earlier.

It took me a few attempts, but I eventually managed to turn the silver letter opener into two simple cast silver rings. I gave them to Isabella and, with her parents' and our parents' permission, they were officially "betrothal rings". Old Father Seamus and Pastor Angus cooked up a betrothal ceremony in a rare display of non-denominational cooperation between the two drinking, sports, and theological rivals. A few months later Percival and Isabella were betrothed in a touching, albeit non-binding, ceremony at the little chapel down by the lake. Isabella had made it clear that since Percival was underage he be left the option to break the agreement in the future if he wanted. She needn't have worried. He wouldn't have accepted any other woman in the world. As he got older and went from absolutely adorable to breathtakingly handsome I watched him summarily reject just about every beauty in the county. Isabella had won Percival's heart forever by standing with him when he felt less than worthless.

They later married for real of course. Percival took over Daddy's smithy and used everything he'd learned from his mother to expand into artistic metalworking. He did quite well by Isabella and the children. Isabella never again had much cause to unleash her strange abilities, although she did periodically check on everyone with her witch eye and she would sometimes show the children her claw to scare the devil out of them. It was with no small amount of wistfulness that I left their cozy home to start my own household with my own husband. They both died long after their children had grown, peacefully in their sleep, on the same night, holding each other in their arms. I miss them terribly.

But, as I said, I'm an old woman. Soon I'll be going home to see them. Then we can act out fairy stories in a sun kissed meadow once again.

>>341951

Very good stuff writefag. You have a gift.

Just don´t let your slasher waifu get jealous

>>342236

What makes a slasher waifu jealous?

>>342292

Watching some other slasher movie?

>>342292

Female campers

Crazy waifu? or smart, condescending waifu?

Grooming an unkempt waifu would be fun.

>Combing the knots out of jason-chan's hair and helping her brush her teeth. >Maybe stiching a badmouthed, tomboy living doll's overalls while she mumbles under her breath.

>applying burn ointment and toothpaste to freddy-chan's burns. It doesn't do much but it's the thought that counts. Getting her a new sweater every couple of months.

Can't think of any others right now.

>>342292

Seeing you talk to other girls.

>>353219

>scrubbing a predator's dreadlocks with soap and conditioner like it's hair even though they're like tentacles.

>buying pinhead a new set of fishhooks and kitchen knives.

>>353219

>wanting to waifu cenobites

>>>/d/

>>>/chaos

>wanting to dick yautja

>>>/xen/

BEGONE HERETIC

>>353219

>tfw you will never help a predator girl on a hunt

this thread needs revival

>>374855

>trying to sleep

>can't because freddy with tits won't stop scaring you

>but instead of getting stabbed or killed, she destroys your pelvis

>discover If you get fucked in the dream you get fucked in real life

>>374886

Just like in the simulations.

>>374939

Watch out for those wrist rockets

>>375074

Imagine the sexhair.

>>393778

>xeno

>>341951

Pretty good overall, but you kind of went overboard with the details. The odd girls aren't as scary if they aren't a mystery.

>>345910

>smart condescending waifu

>Hannah B. Lecter

>you already got her locked up for yandere crimes

>but you’re a detective, and her innate knowledge of the yandere mind is an important asset in finding and stopping similar cases

>she is surprisingly cooperative and amicable, but you can’t stand the endless flirting

>or her smug assurance that “you’ll be mine in the end”

>little did you know she’s actually been manipulating events from inside the cell to end whatever love life you could’ve had, secure her early release, and lock you into a “cohabitation agreement”

>it might take months or even years, but sooner or later she’s going to taste your seed, paired with a glass of Chianti

>>393792

Look, it’s not about the stalking and mental problems, she can still get the man if she wants him. It’s more about stopping all the collateral damage from a yandere that kills multiple girls because they said hi to anon once or twice.

>>393881

What about /clang/?

>>393889

/xeno/'s autistic little brother.

>>393881

>>393889

>>393897

fuck off furshits

>>393917

Eat shit

>>340791

On the off chance you're still around, this was amazing, could've been an episode of Lights Out! or Quiet, Please.