THE ZOO.

Fairytales line the walls of a child's memory. The classic stories of princesses, dragons, the princes who defeat them, and the infamous boogyman were all that could be remembered before bed. The children knew that creatures lurked within their closets, hid under their beds, and crept through open windows at night. However, a parent always had to misinform the child that there were no such things as monsters.

I was supposed to be out of this town by sunrise. Instead, this good-for-nothing-piece-of-shit van broke down just as I made it to the outskirts. Uno, my traveling companion up until now, was the only one out of us who knew how to fix it, but he was gone. Vanished. Whisked away into the crowd of humans. He did not belong there; he belonged beside me, venturing between state lines, searching for more of those things. Before my eyes, I could only see blackness, but a light shone a bit of distance away. I had two options: follow the light or stay here and remain frustrated.

The night's moon provided no comfort, nor did the stars twinkle enough to give me a feeling of companionship. Footsteps were the only sounds that could be heard, other than the one or two cars speeding by, far over the speed limit. The light drew nearer and nearer, and I finally made out the source of it. Beyond a large yard of over-grown grass and weeds, some wooden stairs stepped twice and met the porch supporting a two-story home. If not for the lights emitting from about four of the windows, I would have imagined the house to be abandoned. I approached the door and practically slammed my knuckles against it about three to five times. I heard a faint, "Coming," then the door opened by a woman with light brown hair and a cheerful demeanor.

"Yes?," she smiled.

"Right, hey," I tried to muster up words. "My car broke down a little ways down, and I was wondering if I could borrow your phone?"

"Hold on a second," the woman pointed a finger upward to display she had an intention of returning. From what I could see through the doorway, she walked a bit down the hallway and called out to someone, referring to her as "Miss." Her voice was somewhat harsh, and it somehow felt like a snap. When she returned, she opened the door wider before saying anything, made the gesture to welcome me inside, and led me down the dusty and dimly lit hall to the kitchen on the right. Something in me clawed at at my stomach, tightening its grip the more I noticed it.

"Hello there," the woman set a cup of coffee on the small table as she greeted me. I nodded once and said a casual "hello" in response, but the claw at my stomach compressed all my words. "I understand you're here to borrow our telephone, yes? I'm sorry you came here for nothing; we can't seem to get it working."

"Oh," was all I could conjure from my mouth. I was curious as to why they invited me inside if they knew they would not be able to help me. As I remained in the awkward atmosphere (well, perhaps it was only awkward to me), I took a quick glance around the room. It was an average, old-style kitchen with a gas stove and simple appliances. A painting on the wall depicted a little blonde girl with perfect curls watering flowers, and the wallpaper was peeling off a bit around the edges, especially near the screen door that must have led to a side yard.

"But don't worry," my head jerked back to her direction, "I heard about your car troubles, and I could just have my son repair it in the morning." She chuckled a bit, "It's about the only thing he's good for."

"Hey," a deeper voice was heard through the screen door as the body who bore it entered. He was not especially tall, yet his build was strong. I assumed this young man to be the son to which the "Miss" was referring. "Without me, you wouldn't have been able to live here. So no complaining, Mom."

"Yes, yes, you're right," her eyes met with her lap, as if to see her legs remaining still. "Anyway, this is… oh, I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"It's H'up," I responded, expecting the strange response I often receive. Instead, her lip tightened as if she knew very well what my name must have meant. Not what it meant as in words, but why it was unnatural. She knew I was "lying."

"Then," she looked to her son, "would you show H'up to the guest room so she can get comfortable?" He shrugged and motioned me to follow him into the hall. We headed toward the door, but as we walked, I noted across the kitchen was a living room with a fireplace. Because I had to follow him and not seem too nosey, I could not properly observe my surrounding. It was second-nature to me, as it was for Uno. We had to notice the signs.

To the left of the entrance, an old staircase led to the second floor, and as we made our way up the creaking planks, he asked, "So what kind of name is that, anyway?"

"It's a nickname," I responded flatly. At the top of the stairs, I was looked on by a door parallel to me. The floor was made up of a hallway that created an "L" shape. It was wide enough to have enough space for small furniture such as a small loveseat against one wall with an old end table holding a vase beside it. He led me to the left, where only one door stood. He opened it and allowed me entrance, to which I agreed. The room itself was nothing spectacular, as it was a bit messy with dirtied clothes, covered in mud. I knew immediately that this was the wrong room. He closed the door behind him and made his way to me, touching my shoulder. I shrugged it out from beneath his hold.

"Don't be like that," he joked to himself and stepped closer while I instinctively moved backward, which was not an intelligent decision on my part seeing as the bed was close behind me. "When was the last time you had any fun?" He eyed me up and down, looking disappointed at what he saw. "You're a bit boyish for my taste, but you'll do. Besides, you gotta pay me somehow for fixing your car." I prepared myself if he decided to try anything, but as he made an advance, there was a light knocking on the door followed by a small voice.

"I'm opening the door," she said, and he distanced himself from me with a grin that implied he was not finished with me yet. I chose to ignore it. The little girl looked to be about ten, and she was carrying a blanket under her arm. "You can come over here; I'll bring you to the right room," she sighed as if this hadn't been the first time her brother deceived someone. I decided to follow her to the hall, not looking back at him. She closed the door behind us and apologized.

"Sorry about him. We always close our doors behind us, and he probably did that without thinking." In retrospect, I knew for a fact I was not in any real danger, but I certainly appreciated the simple escape. The door that she led me to was the very first one I saw, and as she opened it, I felt I was staring into a room full of shadows. Due to usual circumstances, I felt the side of the wall for a switch to turn on some sort of light, but there was nothing. The little girl walked into the darkness and turned on a lamp stationed atop the end table beside the bed. It had simple furniture: a wardrobe, vanity, and my personal favorite accessory was the marble ashtray. The bed rested against the wall with a window to attract the morning's light for the next day, to which I was not particularly looking forward. "My room is down the other side of the hall, and my little sister's is at the end of the side-hall, so if you need anything, you can wake one of us up. Though she can be a bit cranky," the little girl laughed. She gave me the blanket from beneath her arm and bid me to have a good night, yet she neglected to close the door until it clicked shut. I folded the cloth blanket and placed it at the foot of the bed, and I cuddled myself beneath the warmth of the comforter. Night trailed forward, stealing the consciousness away from me. Tomorrow was going to occur as I closed my eyes, and I could think of no place I'd rather be than anywhere but here.

My slumber immediately ended the moment I heard what sounded like heavy heels step across the room's floor. A loud exhale that seemed to be released from nostrils was the confirmation I needed to know I was not alone. I reached for the lamp's string and tugged it harshly, revealing the body of a monstrous creature at the foot of my bed with a Ram's skull staring blankly in my direction. He did not move immediately, but his body resembled that of horrifying combination of both beast and man. While he had human stature, his feet were hooves. I yanked the covers from my body and leapt to the opposite side of the room. He then charged after me, hoping to take me down; however, in his blind fury, he only wrecked the vanity. From it fell the marble ashtray: my weapon.

I was foolish to accept the offer of sleeping in their den. I should have noticed that they were suspicious from the start. Monsters could wear clever disguises when they crawled into a human's skin.

Regaining himself, he once again attempted to bulldoze me. This time, I was caught in the crossfire, and I held onto the ashtray firmly as I bumped into the end table. He had me cornered with the bed, just as before when we were alone in his room. The hollow eyes in his skull looked right through me as his body mounted over mine. His hooves lacked the ability to pin my arms down, and I used the springs from the mattress to aid in my thrust to push him back. He was far stronger than me, but it was enough to free myself and make the attack. His face was that of a skull leading up to horns above his ears. However, the back of his head seemed human. I slammed the ashtray into it, repeatedly. I did not give him a moment to fight back; this had to be done quickly or I was going to die an extremely pathetic death. He bleated and kicked, but eventually his movements subsided as the blood ran down his back, and his body collapsed. All the noise must have woken up the house. After all, I killed the son.

A few moments of standing still, allowing my ears to listen for any sound coming from outside the room passed and ended when a light thumping was heard down the hall, opposite of the Ram's room. I regretted being unable to sever his head, as I could use it as a weapon; however, I had to move onward. I quietly opened the door wider, hoping that it would produce no sound, yet it did create the smallest of squeaks. The thumping came to a halt, and we both remained perfectly still. I had the ability to creep quietly, but whatever was waiting for me at the end of the hall moved in a jumping motion. As soon as I heard its small leap forward, I pitched the ashtray as fast as I could in its direction. I did not care who or what it was; all I knew was that if it was anything like the Ram, I could show no mercy. With my ashtray gone, I grabbed the vase by the neck and sprint into the darkness ahead, hoping to finish this encounter quickly. 

Once my eyes adjusted, I saw a human-like creature, covered in mangled white fur. She had a small stature, and her pointed pale face possessed a curious nose, constantly sniffing, though it seemed to be in pain as its tattered ears hung back. She did not fight immediately, and I slammed the vase against the left side of her face, shattering the glass. The Rabbit collapsed, still breathing, kicking furiously in my direction. At this point, I knew she could do me no harm, so I stabbed the broken glass through her neck and immediately heard a roar come from the perpendicular end of the "L" shaped hall. 

The roar indicated a more hostile creature, and I was unarmed. There was no way I could enter blindly into that room, so I thought back on the fireplace and decided to grab a fire poker, though I knew it would inevitably be ineffective against a larger and more dangerous monster. I made my way down the stairs, and while I was rushing down the hall to the left opening, I heard a snarling cackle come from the right. Whatever the sound's master was, it was in the lit kitchen, and I had to either take my chances and run in there, and hope for the best, or I could allow those horrible creatures to live as I ran out the front door. I dismissed the second option as cowardly, and it was my duty to fight back the monsters who threatened to steal our flesh and bones. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the hand stained red in blood, and I presented myself in the doorway, seeing the beast stare back at me. She was on all four legs with spotted, patchy light brown fur. Her mouth was stretched back as if she were grinning maliciously. She continued to produce a strange cackle of a sound, snapping in pitches from high to low, and it finally clicked within me to move. 

Illumination from the kitchen light helped dodge and avoid the Hyena's attempt at digging her fangs into me, but her movements were too fast, and she bit into my calf (thankfully, the clothes around my legs helped relent the full bite). There was no other option; I used a chair to defend myself. I lifted it and slammed the back of it on her head as to free myself. Pain throbbed throughout my leg, but I had to survive. It was not deep enough to halt movement in my leg, but I was certainly handicapped by it. Hyena regained herself and prepared to attack, but much slower. She crept closer as I stepped backward, and we circled around the table as such about three times until she chose to pounce. I blocked myself with the chair, releasing it with a push to keep her away for a second as I grabbed that painting contained in a glass frame from the wall and slammed it against her recovered stature. She released a yelp, but kept her fighting spirit. As she struggled to stand once more, I quickly rummaged through the drawers until I found a butcher knife, and I drove it into her chest, piercing it through the heart.

I retrieved the knife after her twitching receded, and I searched through more drawers that I had not been able to look through previously. I found nothing important other than some scissors, matches, and tape. I brought myself to the living room, still listening for any more creatures. Even though I knew of five residents within the house, I could not be completely certain that more did not remain hidden throughout the property. The woman of the household and the Rabbit's younger sister were the last two I could identify. The living room did not have much save for the fire poker and a disposable amount of furniture (including a telephone, which I did not have time to check), but I had to take my chances and return to the roaring room.

Opening the door quietly, I saw the battleground, and it, too, was lit with duel lamps on both sides of the queen bed. The room was more elaborate than the others, and it was covered in dolls, pillows, and drapes framing the large window on the left wall. I knew in that instant this monster would be the worst, for she had the ability to cushion herself if she were to fall back anywhere. As for the hideous creature, she was representative of a white tiger. The fur around her face was long and disheveled. As opposed to having thick fur, her skin was white with black patches in stripes stretched across her disfigured body, and though she was not fully grown, she was enough to be dealt with seriously.

Surrounded by her mote of pink pillows, she waited patiently for me to fully bring myself into her lair. As she watched, her lips separated more and more until her sharp teeth displayed themselves as superior to me in all ways, and to elaborate this point, she released a large and booming roar from her mouth. To be honest, I wished Uno was with me. I could handle it alone, and I could defend myself, but it would have been so much easier to have someone else fighting along side me. I dropped the butcher knife to the ground so that if I needed it, I could return to it. I gripped the fire iron with all the force I could, and I charged toward the beast, trying to ignore the pain in my leg. I positioned the tip to meet with her eye, and I struck it through before being swatted away by her arm. The blood dripped down her eye as she cried out in pain, and with the blood also fell the instrument. If I were to attempt to retrieve it, she would certainly kill me in her fury. I had no choice but to try my hand at the knife throw, so I ran back to my blade and flung it in her direction without really thinking of being precise. I had to try as long as she was distracted.

It missed a vital point, but it did slash the skin on her side. The Tiger's anger escalated, and she no longer allowed herself to mourn over her own pain, and instead, she wished for nothing more than to end my entire being. She leapt from her bed and raised her paw at me as to scratch fiercely across my chest, but I ducked with enough time to dodge her blow, but I did acquire my own wound from her claw along the side of my head. I knew I could not defeat her by my previous attempts, and I had to think of something. That was when I noticed the window again. I lured her over to it by taunting her with my own ferocious snarls, and she reciprocated with more roars and displays of her teeth before lunging forward. She hit the ground in front of the window, cleverly avoiding my plan. But what she did not realize was that she was still just a little girl, younger than ten years old. I grabbed her by the legs and swung her body through the window using all my strength and adrenaline to stay alive. I looked out the window to see if it had worked, and the Tiger's body remained motionless, but I heard a howl from outside, and the body of a hellhound dragged itself forward by the front legs to its daughter's corpse. The mother was waiting for me.

I was lucky to have seen her in that state, for I knew she would be no trouble. Her legs were already immobile, and she was only a dog. A hellish, grotesque monster of a dog. 

At this point I was tired of stabbing everything. I wanted to just beat her senseless with a blunt object of sorts, but I could not think of anything that would do the trick. I debated taking the butcher knife and using it to steal the Ram's skull like I wanted prior to finding any other weapons, but I decided against it. Wind caused the curtains to dance, and in its motion, I realized that I could take down the curtain rod and use it as a long-range weapon. Pulling on the thin, dancing fabric, I brought the structure down to the ground, collected the rod, and prepared myself for the Hound.

She waited for me outside the entrance of the home. She was dark, like the color of coffee, and her eyes and growl exhibited intense hatred toward me. I slaughtered her whole family before they could team up to kill me. It was self defense, and she had no right to hold any grudge against me. I gripped the rod and showed her that not a single ounce of blood in my body was going to be lost over her. The Hound knew she would be defeated, and before she allowed me to strike, she barked as loudly and strong as she could, repeatedly. She barked so much that it was beginning to give me a headache, so I shut her up once and for all. I grabbed her stiff body by the neck and drug her up the porch, through the door, and into the den where I dropped her near the entry. I picked up the phone and heard a dial tone. "Fucking bitch," I muttered to myself. I pushed the familiar numbers and listened for the rings to end and a voice to be heard on the other side. I knew it was extremely late at night, but he would answer.

"Hello?" he said. I uttered four words to him and slammed the phone back on the receiver. The old, wooden house disgusted me in every way. I found myself rummaging through the drawer in the kitchen, striking matches to ignite the stove, ripping up paper towels to toss into the fire pit, watching the logs bare heat, and setting aflame everything on my way out the door. If the world were made up of fairytales, and each human and beast alike was assigned a specific role in the old story books, then I was the Dragon.

Uno, I'm coming back.