Beastly Pt. 1
I have no idea how to link stories together but we're gonna figure this out! (Despite being young I am quite technologically challenged, lol. My wife can't stand it but she loves it.)
This human body is small, the highest complaint my soul has for why I needed to achieve a passable form. But that doesn't mean it's without it's perks. Small can also mean passable, non-threatening, human. It bored me to death but it was what was necessary to fit into this age. Especially with all the demands: job, career, family, relationships, politics. All things humanity worried about, but a forest creature like me, a God who once dined on the sacrificial flesh of men who took the hunting of animals too pridefully found it all dull.
But again, blending in mattered. So I did as all hunters do best: sit and wait. Found a job in something called corporate. It all bored me. I did not care that I frightened my employers or that they were attempting to make some ass backwards attempt to summon my ilk and I for power. As if they didn't burn down our homes to build they're glass temples. made of concrete and steel and the buried bodies of those who died to make it. It was all so boring.
But I was good at my job. Afforded me my small corner of the world. So it was enough. Enough to keep me entertained before maybe hibernating for another century. Perhaps humanity would have evolved or died out by then. But at the very least it wouldn't be boring.
But then something new peaks my interest. The scent of a new employee. It carried the scent of vanilla, orchids, and sugar. It didn't have that desperate reek around it. The pitiful scent all new flesh that entered the glass coffin did. No, it smelled unsure, perhaps shy, but not desperate.
I look up from my desk to find this new hire. My heart stops. She smells like a previous mate, a previous lover but the image is wrong. She's so...small. Her belly not a dome that could knock mountains, her breast forced apart by the globular of her belly, no rolls at the back of the sea. I dug my nails into the desk, the wood shearing at the weight. Pieces of my form escaped before I shoved them back into my tiny meat suit. Her breast averaged at a D cup at best, a small pouch instead of the earth itself, and her arms thin compared to the milk maidens of the past. I glowered, suddenly oscillating between disgust and rage. She took notice of me and her head went down. Pink braids shrouding her beautiful brown moonstone skin.
The weaker predators, the scavengers as I fondly nicknamed them tell her to not mind me. That I'm simply an old hag and jealous of her beauty. Little do they know that hags are not concerned with the ephemeral state of beauty when knowledge and power were immutable. I trot over, not wanting buzzards to pick at such delicate meat. They had no tact. They huff, like pups getting nipped and walk away. You blush and hide again but this time I smell it's not fear. It's arousal.
I feel another stitch in the meat skin. I groan. I get a good look into those oak wood eyes. There's fear, so much fear implanted, but there's hunger. Finally a soul who matched my own. I can smell it on you. A great desire for more, the desire to finally be sated. This society had forgotten the old ways, they had forgotten to respect the beasts of the forest, it was high time they starved. I grin, not bothering to hide the fact that my mouth split too wide, that hairs encroached around my face, that my eyes glowed like city lights.
"Are you hungry, perchance?"
