Breathe. In, and out. Just until you get out of town. Zeb was trying his best to coach himself
out of making a scene. He still peeled out of the parking lot in a spectacular fashion. Abrasive,
tinny country music began to blare out of the stereo as he tried to use it to cover his howl of
rage. He was still alive.
If Gabe was still alive, then he had had a lot of time to stew. He had to have come looking for
him too, and somehow that asshole must have got lucky and pinned him to that gas station. Fuck.
This is why you don't use the same damn station all the time, Zeb! He punched the steering wheel
with a snarl, caving in the top it as shattered plastic flew across the cab. Not to mention he
had already bought backup. Zeb didn't know who the hyena was, but he saw the way he acted around
him. They were working together, he just knew it.
Well, let them come. I killed and ran off others before them, i'll run them off long after I've
finished the job of killing that runt. He gripped the wheel tighter as he drove along the two lane
highway, well over 100 miles an hour towards his home. A trail of trash and beer cans was escaping
out of the back, and the tarp soon flew off as well. His face elongated as his voice became less human
as his mumbling to himself turned into growls. In and out... He reminded himself. His face soon
returned to his human form. Mile after mile into the desert they drove, dissapearing from the main
highway off behind a gigantic plateu, only accessable through a barely visible offroad track.
A few more miles of bumpy road and they were home. An abandoned telegraph shack, not used since
god knows when. Bones of various beasts and more than likely humans littered the ground around
the hovel. No care or upkeep is being given to the poor structure, made of century old wood and
leaning slightly to the side. The smell was that of rotten meat and trash.
Zeb got out of the truck and ripped the door off in anger. He threw it as far as he could, a few hundred
feet, into the distance. He stomped around to the bed of the truck. The bloody tarp was gone, but the
two passengers were still inside. Grabbing either one by the head he hoisted them out of the truck
mind still fixated on what to do about Gabe. This might be why he didn't notice the hiker flinch
just slightly as he was lifted up. Dragging both of them over to a table with various rusty butchering
tools, he threw the hiker into a pile of discarded furs and bone, setting to work on the ranger
first. As he began to work on the corpse, peeling away skin and flesh, he could only imagine Gabes
head having the flesh removed, his spirit and mind free from his body, and out of Zebs life. If
he thinks he's going to come in here and rain on Zebs parade, he's wrong!
He accentuated the thought by ripping off one of the mans arms, and throwing it as well off into the
distance. He knew the change was coming, he was too enraged to hold it back. Why!? Why is that
little shit back? He was dead. He was sure of it. His face once again elongated as tendrils snapped
and bones cracked, an inhuman roar beginning to reverberate through the empty desert air. He took
the ranger and slammed him against the table, and then threw the body against a rock. The transformation
was now complete, standing at terrifying 11 feet tall and about 900 lbs, it was a good thing his
rage was being contained in this valley. His howl was several octaves lower than a coyote, and
could be heard for miles. The were beast walked up to the now mangled corpse.
Zeb began to feast. When he was angry, he got hungry. Naturally when he was hungry, he ate. It
wasn't worth it trying to cure this old meat anyways. Better just eat it frsh. The sight was gruesome,
the soundscape sickening. Before long, more bones with fresh blood and sinew joined the piles already
there. The vultures patiently circled, waiting for Zeb to take his leave so their feast could begin.
As he assumed human form again, his clothes hung off him in rags, face completely covered in blood, meat
between his teeth. Still panting, he rose to his feet. Now that he's had his fun, he had better make sure
that hiker doesn't spoil as well. Walking over to the fur and bones he had haphazardly thrown the man onto.
He found a pile of bone, discarded fur, but no hiker.
Zeb howled again in barely contained rage. This was not good. As crude and simple of a being as he was,
he had a system, a way of life. The chances of that life continuing just got a lot slimmer. Zeb began
to panic, running into the shack and getting new clothes for himself. Damn, he couldn't even pick up the guys
scent...
Zeb began to reason with himself. The desert gets cold at night, and that little morsel had already lost
blood. He even fell for his fake tourist pamphlet, so all signs of Darwin were pointing towards his
fate anyways. Maybe he was being a little too concerned. That Hiker was dead before he even stepped
in Zebs trap. Yeah... Thats what he would tell himself. He slowly began to walk back to the shack,
only now realizing what a tiring and hate filled day it had been. As the moon rose to greet the stars,
last hues of purple leaving the now black sky, Zeb sat down in his only chair, taking a bowie knife
and picking the pieces of park ranger out of his teeth.
He knew the hiker was probably a goner, but what to do about Gabe and his little Hyena
friend...