By Sarah Falanga
The warmth of the stew steamed up my glasses and the taste of it cut through the bitter cold of the highlands. But the conversation behind me drove all thought of food away.
“It was headed straight for the coastline. I had to let it go—the curse has passed from me,” said the first voice.
“You just let it go?” responded the second. “Duncan, it will kill anyone it finds!”
My stomach turned. The coastline—that’s where I’d left Jim. I listened, craning to hear more.
“What could I do? It’s up to whoever carries the curse now.”
“But you’re the last—”
I gulped and stood up, my chair clattering backward. The two old men hunched over their pints stared at me.
“Tourist,” said the second man, dismissively. He turned back to his glass.
“I’m not a t-tourist. I’m here… to do research.” The men weren’t interested, but at my next words, they grew pale. “I left my husband down at the coastline… and I couldn’t help overhearing—”
“What’s he doing down there?” the man called Duncan asked.
“We—fought.”
Duncan sprang up. “Come on.” I followed him outside, into piercing cold.
He strode toward the distant sound of the sea. Then turned. “Now we’re alone, tell me all about it—your fight.” He hesitated. “Ah, Ms…?”
“Cathy,” I responded automatically. “Jim was being a jerk—”
“No,” he waved his hand impatiently. “What did you fight about?”
“We came here to do research for my book…” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “He’s always teasing me about how much I like Scotland, but ever since we came here, he’s been difficult, criticizing my work. It was just a stupid argument.”
“So, your pride was hurt?” Duncan looked at me narrowly.
I shrugged.
“Cathy, your pride was hurt, wasn’t it? And a thought came to you—that you’d get even with Jim and prove him wrong, am I right?”
I stared at him. “How—”
“It’s dangerous to think those thoughts, especially here.” He started walking again, at a quicker pace.
“What are you talking about?” I ran to catch up. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a beast that feeds on prideful thoughts. It follows our family. I think that’s why you’re here.”
“Your… family?”
A sound rose in the wind. Like the roar of a lion but wilder and deeper. I shivered.
“I’ve been master of that beast for years, Cathy, holding it at bay in its intangible form.” He shuddered. “But now you have the curse—at least you better have or we’re in trouble. So it’s up to you now.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I can’t.”
He urged me onward. “Cathy, you’ve got to try—for your husband’s sake.” He winced. “For everyone’s sake.”
Footsteps, running toward us from down the street. It was Jim, eyes wide. Behind him… a monster with gleaming teeth and claws that splintered the air as it bounded toward us. Like a lion, but huge and steely.
When it saw me it stopped, roared, and sat on its haunches, eyes fixed on mine. Its tail swished, denting a car as it passed.
I breathed deeply, staring back at the creature. Duncan whispered in my ear, “Good, just stay calm while I explain how you control it.”
Jim joined us, gasping for breath. “Cathy, what are you doing? Let’s get out of here!”
“It’s my fault—”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Duncan muttered through his teeth.
“But I don’t want it! It was my pride being hurt, right? That’s easy enough to fix. Jim is right, my stories are…” It hurt to say it. “They need help.”
“Your stories are great!” Jim winced. “It’s just the jetlag speaking.”
“Shut up!” Duncan glared at Jim. “You can sort all that later.”
He turned to me. “Cathy, as much as I hate to say this, you can’t just give up your pride. It’s too late for that. You’ve already had the prideful thought—the damage is done. I’ve lost control of the beast. The mantle shifts now to you.” He sighed. “If you refuse the burden, no one will be able to control it, and there will be carnage.” His eyes narrowed. “The choice is yours. What will it be?”
“And that’s my story.” Cathy smiled across the table at the hitchhiker.
The hitchhiker took a sip of beer, his eyes on Cathy. “Interesting story. And this all happened when?”
She bowed her head. “Oh, a long, long time ago.” She looked up again. “I wasn’t much older than you.”
He leaned forward. “But everyone would talk about the ‘beast,’ wouldn’t they? Can’t exactly hide something like that.”
“That’s my job, to make sure it stays quiet and doesn’t hurt anyone.” She watched him closely. “It’s the family curse.”
The hitchhiker looked up, a query in his eyes.
“It was bequeathed to us generations back, as Duncan—cousin Duncan—explained all those years ago. Each generation the beast hunts anew in its visible form. And when he finds his master, it’s a lifelong curse. Or death for all those around you.”
The hitchhiker shifted in his chair.
“Once you’ve aroused the beast, it’s yours to manage, until someone in the next generation comes of age.” She paused, her eyes fixed on his. “And it seeks them, when their thoughts are unguarded.”
“When you’re likely to slip up,” the hitchhiker murmured.
“Exactly,” Cathy responded. “This morning, I could feel my hold over it weakening. I knew that meant there was someone new to take up the burden. Someone new it had mastered, who must now master it.” She smiled at the hitchhiker. “Guess who’s the lucky winner?”
A deafening roar sounded from outside.
The hitchhiker’s eyes grew wide.
“So, what will it be—cousin?” Cathy reached forward and touched him gently on the hand. “Pride or death?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
You always seem to find some long-cousin when you travel… Though with less consequences.
You never know who — or what — you’re going to run into! LOL. Thanks so much for reading <3
Pride as a mechanical lion… Great metaphor and excellent story!
Thank you so much for reading! I’m glad you enjoyed it :D
Great, creative story! Watch out for pride!
Delightful story! I like the twist, which I wasn’t expecting
I love this story! Such a fascinating twist, that takes it in an unexpected and really cool direction. Embracing pride, but in the RIGHT way? wow. Good thought!
Wow. That is a POWERFUL last line.