The Beast Within (Book One of the Changes Series)

-Danielle’s POV-

It was one of those perfect spring days, and I was having a wonderful time with Nathan and the kids. Arizona was known for its red-hot summers, but its springs were beautiful. It had been ages since we’d visited my father’s ranch. Now sitting here, under my favorite oak tree, feeling the sun on my skin and breeze at my back, I didn’t know how I’d stayed away as long as I had. I lazily watched as Nathan and the kids splashed in the watering hole.

I could see why my dad had taken so much pride in his property. He had made everything that was on it, even the water pump that helped irrigate his land. Dad had me name it. The four-year-old me chose to call it “The Pump” since it had a massive pump that the water came out of.

When I was younger, I remembered being so proud of our modest oasis. Living out of the city limits on a dusty cattle ranch with alfalfa fields as far as the eye could see, but like so many other things, the magic wore off by the time I was in high school. I went to great lengths to shield my friends from my simple existence.

My dad was a good man and a great father that deserved more than my teenaged shame could give.

It always struck me as odd that my father was a “cowboy.” In many regards, he fit the part, but it felt as if he was meant for something else. He appeared happy enough to wear the tight-fitting jeans and Stetson hats, herding the cattle into corrals. There were never any talks of moving into town, and Dad didn’t even date often. His primary focus was to care for me. He did the best he could.

After my high school graduation, I was ready to make my escape. My dad was hesitant, as always, but I longed for new experiences and my freedom. I did what any selfish young adult would do. I hid the acceptance letter for Arizona State, pretending the only letter I received was to UCLA, making California an unpassable opportunity.

At first, I tried to convince my dad to visit me in California, but he always found an excuse why he couldn’t. By the time I met Nathan, my dad would be lucky to receive a phone call from me once a month, but he never appeared upset by it. He was just happy to hear from me.

“Mommy, over here!” the kids exclaimed in unison, causing me to pay closer attention.

I couldn’t help but smile as Nathan and the kids stopped splashing around to wave at me. It warmed my heart to see my family enjoying what I took for granted. Nathan usually left the ranch trips to the kids and me. Even those trips were few and far between. Thinking about it, I wasn’t quite sure how I got him to come this time.

Nathan’s first visit to the ranch had set the tone of my dad’s and his relationship. That tone being “nonexistent.” It probably didn’t help that Nathan’s first time seeing either the ranch or my father was to share the news of our engagement. I could never forget our trip down the unpaved road that led to my dad’s place. Nathan’s irritation was palpable as he drove slower than pouring molasses while pebbles waged a full assault on his brand new Lexus. I remembered how the old feelings of embarrassment came swirling in along with dust and the stench of manure. And that was the high point of the visit.

Dad did try to camouflage his disapproval of Nathan, but it wasn’t hard to see.

I never imagined I could miss this place so much, and until now, I didn’t think I did.

I looked around. Where was Dad?

I bet he would be shocked to see my city-slicker husband swimming in a big dirty hole in the ground. Wait… I couldn’t remember seeing Dad since we arrived. The pit of my stomach started to knot. Something was off.

I racked my brain, but I couldn’t recall anything before setting down this blanket. I felt my heart skip a beat as I jumped up, looking in every direction.

No, not again, please God, not again!

Nathan and the kids’ laughter ended. I turned to find the watering hole was now empty. Where did they go?

It felt as if my heart would stop as I ran towards where my family used to be. I yelled out their names, not hearing my own voice; there wasn’t any sound. No crunch to the gravel or rustling of leaves, nothing. What did that mean? Was I having full-on delusions?

My worst fear was realized as I reached my destination. I was alone with nothing but a dark hole being filled by a rusty pump. Transfixed on my watery reflection, I had to own the truth that my family was never here.

That thought left me feeling hollow. I had imagined everything, but it all seemed so real. I honestly was losing my mind.

Why was this happening? Were the kids even safe with me?

My brows knitted together in confusion. The reflection the water’s surface shared changed the longer I stared, appearing bigger, closer. It took seeing the water washing over my feet before I realized what was happening.

I hurried to the valve and stopped the torrent of water. I didn’t move away from it, not sure how to proceed.

Dad had no clue I was here, and my family was probably just as clueless. How long had I been missing? Had it been days, and if so, what was I doing? The memory of the paralyzing rage I experienced came to mind. What if I hurt someone and didn’t remember? Are the children safe, or had I done something horrible?

That thought shook me to my core.

My attention was stolen by the sound of moving water. It was the first sound I’d heard since my family’s laughter, but that wasn’t real, and I had already turned off the water.

I hesitantly returned my focus to the watering hole. The pump was off, which made what I saw even more perplexing. I watched in horror as the water in the pit kept rising, overflowing at a rapid rate.

Was I having another delusion? If I was, I couldn’t stop looking at it. The water inched closer, but it looked strange. It didn’t even resemble water anymore. It was thicker, darker, almost visceral in nature. The smell of copper wafted past my nostrils. The water kept morphing further.

Oh, God. It was blood!

Now I was praying for this to be a delusion. It had to be. There was no way a massive pool of blood was making its way towards me. I tried in vain to will the apparition away as the liquid slithered around the soles of my shoes.

I turned to run, stopped by a figure staring at me. I wasn’t alone.

There was a presence taking shape by the oak tree I had just left. I stayed frozen in place, more afraid of the presence than the blood. My eyes were glued to the creature as the clear skies darkened and the air thickened, pulsating around me. I felt stuck while I watched the foreboding presence collecting the darkness. As if it was constructing itself out of it.

I didn’t know why, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference if I ran or not. There was no outrunning it. Whatever this thing was, it had me in its snare.

It stalked towards me, and I kept frozen. The closer it came, the more solid its shape became. Its silhouette was human but not human enough. Its proportions were odd. Its height was too tall, and its arms were too massive. The shadow creature’s gait was also strange, but it unhinderedly continued to close the gap between us.

The creature peered down, causing me to do the same. My breath hitched, observing the blood creeping up my ankles.

Futile or not, I needed to run, but I couldn’t move! I felt as if I had cement blocks attached to my limbs. The beast’s hot breath at my back turned my fear into an all-out panic.

How did it get behind me?

Too petrified to face my possible attacker, I waited for death or for the illusion to end.

Who are you? You’re not who you think you are. Why do you try to hide?

What the hell was that? The voices came from nowhere but everywhere, surrounding me.

You can’t hide from who you are.

The realization the voices were in my head frightened me further. With the bit of courage I had collected, I made myself face my fears, pivoting to face the creature.

The shadowy presence loomed over me, feeding on my apprehension as the voices kept their maddening rhythm. Repeatedly asking the same questions, getting louder with each repetition, until their words morphed into a garbled hum.

This must be what evil felt like.

The voices’ earsplitting “words” sharpened, causing me to recoil in pain. Understanding came in muddled pieces.

I’d felt this before. The uncompromising anger, the all-consuming rage. That night in my bedroom with Nathan. I had this all wrong. This wasn’t evil… and the hum wasn’t a hum at all.

The presence bowed. Its shadowy face now hovered inches away from my own. As if it was introducing itself. The voices lowered their growls, but my ears kept pulsating from their beating.

Was I being rewarded?

I took an unstable step back; it followed.

“Please leave me alone,” I stammered.

Out of nowhere, the pain from the night before returned. Doubled over in agony, I cried out. I could feel the cracks forming, threatening to break me into a million pieces.

I mustered a few more unguided steps backward, and it trailed me again.

“What the hell do you want from me?!”

It didn’t answer.

A guttural scream released from deep within me before I lashed out, using my hands like claws. Its form degenerated with every hit only to reappear. Still, I didn’t care. Taking action felt good; I felt alive.

My anger had a function; its purpose was simply to be used.

All at once, the creature rushed at me, hurling my body into the air. A moment of weightlessness was all I got before colliding with the congealed pool. Blood flowed in where the air was forced out, suffocating me. I fought my way up to the surface, managing a single glance at the monster before I was swallowed by the viscous grave.