My dearest M——,
Not so long ago, at my request, you acquired a most curious belt. In exchange for it, you received my word that I would tell you why I desired it so. I regret deeply that circumstance forces me to delay my fulfillment of that vow, and that you now think I am quite wicked. In the event of my death or incarceration, however, I have given orders that this sealed account be given to you, so that at last you may understand.
You see, your estimation of me is not so far off: I am quite wicked. I have asked you for the belt because I have learned of its nature, and it is nefarious indeed, but this does not frighten me, for my purpose for it is quite nefarious.
I am going to kill my brother.
You alone know how he has wronged me, and wronged me so deeply that I now believe I have no other recourse than to employ Satanic forces bound within a humble strap of wolf's pelt. Believe me when I wish there was another way. Were I braver, I would confront my brother face-to-face, and plunge my knife into his flesh or draw pistol and fire into his heart. You cannot know how often I have trembled, just beyond a doorway, a moment from such revenge. I do not fear the hellfire that is my inevitable punishment, for my heart will be raised beyond heaven by the sight of him there with me.
Tonight I will put on this cursed belt, and pray to whatever fey forces have granted it this unholy power: that man might become beast, that I, unleashed from my human flesh and morals, will eagerly exact my revenge.
I do not know if after I have done this unholy deed I will become human again. If not, perhaps I will flee into the woods, and the last sight of me will be my silver tail as I slip into the trees. If instead I do return to my natural shape, then I am prepared for any consequence. I will accept judgement as it is delivered, whether I am declared to be a killer, or whether I am spared by the devil's shape I so willingly take upon myself.
My only regret is that I have made you complicit in this foul deed. If you had not sworn me to disclose my intentions for the belt, I should have left you innocent. No, that is not blame for you, merely sadness. You are to me as my brother should have been, and I wish I could have burdened another.
Please believe me when I vow, no matter what I might become, that I am ever yours,
P——
My dearest M——,
Foulest devil! Liar and betrayer, great deceiver! No, not you—and not my brother either, though he is certainly such things. I speak of the creator of this belt. For indeed it changed my shape, as promised; I put it on with great care as dark fell the evening just past. I tied each leather thong with trembling hands, trembling with excitement and fear, knotted each lace carefully. And at first I thought that nothing would come of it, that yet again my vengeance would be thwarted by fate. But lo, then I felt a great fire throughout every part of my body, and I fell howling to the floor. It was such a pain, M——, that I cannot describe it—there is no pain I have ever experienced that might compare. As if a thousand hornets stung me in every place, even the most intimate; as if I were burned and then dipped in vinegar; as if—. No, words cannot describe.
And then it was like a dream, as if I dreamed it all. Perhaps I did, though I do not think so. I had the shape of a wolf, I knew the shape was my body and yet somehow I could also perceive myself as if I stood outside: the grey and black and white of my fur, the laughing shape of my mouth, the yellow of my eyes. But I had become too much the wolf. I did not care for humans and brothers and vengeance. I had changed my shape in the parlour so that I might go directly down the hall and tear my brother's throat out, but instead of doing this, I ran the opposite way, in the direction that smelled most appealing: the way that smelled of the grounds, grass and dirt and trees and deer and small wild things. I terrified the wits out of some servant—I cannot say which, or even whether it was a maid or a footman or some other poor soul. —No, I could smell that it was female. A maid or cook, then. In her fear the servingwoman opened the door for me, and I could hear her shrieks as I bounded into the cool night.
Oh! Such a joy it was, a delight! And now I must curse my brother a thousand times more, for were it not for my urgent need for his death, I should have become a wolf forever. In my heart I was a wild thing, and I could hear the calls of my brethren, and I felt the joy and caution of a wolf not yet allied with others. I stalked rabbits and a small mouse—they move so quick, my friend! But it was the doe I surprised, with her soft young offspring, and when I pounced! The weight of my body taking that trembling fawn into the high wet grass, burying my face and teeth into its belly as it cried and kicked!
I will not speak of it more, for it is agony to me, not to be that. After I sated myself, I somehow found enough control to tear the belt from my midsection, and then I became myself again, clothed and yet bloodied. I knelt over the fawn that I had killed and I wept that I had known such wonder and yet failed in my purpose.
I do not know what my next step must be. I have requested certain volumes from the library of Mr. O——. You must remember how we once teased him over his collection of curiosities and books on the occult. I think that if anyone should have answers, he should. I do not trust him, so I have told him I am writing a novel. Ha! Clearly he does not know me, for he accepted this at once, and eagerly replied that he would have the volumes delivered to me by four p.m. to-night.
I shall pray that there are some answers for me.
Yours, as ever,
P——.
Dearest M——,
In my studies I have discovered there are many methods, disputed, through which one might achieve a change of one's form. One may eat the flesh of another, or drink rainwater from the footprint of a wolf, or rub oneself with a magic salve. But I hesitate with any of these methods, for, as I have told you, it is not the shift of shape that eludes me, but rather the retention of mind. I should think there is no more bestial impulse than murder of a man, and instead, when I put on the belt, I achieve a sort of peace and contentment that has ever eluded me as I walked on two legs instead of four.
Yes, you have read that correctly: I have put on the belt many times of late, despite my certainty that I must put it aside. That contentment, dear friend, is a more powerful draw than opium. When I hear my brother's footsteps down the hall, or the call of his despised voice for the servants, or the distinctive beat of his horse's hooves as he goes on business, then I feel that madness upon me, the madness of my humanity, and I put on the belt that I might soothe it away.
I have fashioned a way to hinge my window that even in wolf-shape I may push it open. I dread that some over-attentive maid will, some night, find a way to lock it despite my efforts, but for now it has yet to happen. And if it should happen—perhaps I do not care. Perhaps I should be glad, that I am prevented from the sin which I have committed myself to.
Yet, no! I cannot give it up. He must die. My brother's foul betrayal of me, his unutterable evil—so easily he could visit it on another. I will pretend I do this for another, though I do not. If I did it for another, then… perhaps even as a wild animal, I might find the wit to kill him in his sleep.
I must consider another avenue.
Yours, in anguish,
P——
Dear M——,
I can feel the will to kill my brother slowly draining from me. What is this trickery? The belt is truly evil, as it deprives me of my purpose. Under its influence I have done such things! I have hunted and run, I have felt fear as I have never felt fear and hunger as I have never felt hunger. I have met other wolves—some I have fought, and one! M——, I think I may lose myself. Will I soon be nothing but wolf, raising pups, rallying a pack? Oh how ridiculous it seems when I write it down! And how perfect it seems when I am in the moment!
But no! I write this now because I have concocted a plan, a scheme. I shall little by little direct my wolf form to do things which may not be so unnatural to it, yet will make it more man-like. More wicked. I have attempted it, and succeeded, in some small way. Last night I was pursuing my beloved when I passed a graveyard. There was a fresh grave there, quite shallow (the gravediggers do not deserve what they extort from us) and I paused naturally to smell at the disturbed ground. As if in a dream I thought perhaps I may put a paw in the soft earth, and lo! I did. And then I thought perhaps I may taste, and I tasted. I swallowed the flesh of man.
In the morning, after I had stripped off the belt, I put my hand on my belly and thought: I have eaten a man. I am wicked.
And I felt a little better, with that thought.
Tonight we shall see what else I may coax my wolf self to do. Surely if I trap myself in a room with my brother, and strap on the belt, instinct will drive me to attack him!
Devotedly,
P——
Dear M——,
I am wounded!
I came upon my brother while he was washing his face in the morning, and while his back was turned on me I hurriedly put the belt on. I had forgotten that the change does not come instantaneously, and in my agony as I changed my skin I gave my brother advantage over me. He was confused at first, his face full of soap and water, but somehow he discovered his pistol nearby! By the time he saw me rightly I was wolf, but my wolf-self was in great confusion, as I often am first changed—what fool I am not to have thought this through better! He shot at me and like a dumb beast I fled—he shot again, four times, but only struck me once! When I remembered myself well enough I tore the belt away and found myself bleeding from the leg. I staunched it as best I could, with the only material I had—that accursed belt! I suffered as long as I could bear, and then I crept into the house and had my servant A—— attend to me. If A—— speaks I will have to become twice a killer.
I am lost, M——. I despair of ever accomplishing my quest. If only I could give it up, and become a wolf forever!
P——
M——,
It is done.
I have killed my brother.
The belt, as I predicted, was a great help. For you see, I was unable to look him in the face, that human face I knew so well, that shared some attribute with mine, and murder him. But my efforts to slay him in another shape were failing, time and time again. Who knew that becoming a beast would hamper my bloodthirst?
In the end, we shall say he caused his own death. I had foolishly, in my anguish and agony from the gunshot wound, left the belt draped over a chair. As he is greedy and wicked and all things evil, he took the belt and put it upon himself.
You should have seen him, M——, howling as he bounded about the house, seeking some way out. Poor lost beast. When the serving man J—— cornered him, he bit and snarled plenty, of course (J—— is being attended to by my personal surgeon; I am not a monster). But wolves do not know houses, and as I myself discovered, the first instinct upon changing your skin is to flee for the more welcoming woods.
I took my brother’s own pistol and I shot the great wolf that was once my brother. I had some fear that after death, he would regain his shape, but he did not. I asked C—— to take the corpse out and burn it, and he did.
So the deed is done.
The belt, somehow, survived the fire. I found it in the ashes. That wolf that might have been my mate is still out there, and I am tempted.
But I think I will, perhaps, pay you a visit, and leave the belt with you.
P——
Copyright
LC Hu
"The Natural Beast"
© 2011, LC Hu
Self Published
mad.docs.of.lit[at]gmail.com
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