Evolution

Saliva swelled, dripping from my teeth as I stepped forward. The girl stood at the edge of the clearing, just beyond the tree line. She and the other humans had been shouting since the sun’s zenith, announcing their presence to the entire wood as they built a fire, erected their shelters. This girl in particular was very loud, always firing out sharp shrieks. And now, she was alone.
The soft pads of my paws were silent on the summer soil as I approached the girl. She crouched in the twilight, releasing sharp, acrid urine. Her body was grotesque. She looked starved - bones sticking through her skin. Her heart beat rapidly to keep her body warm. But now was not the time to be picky. I was also hungry.
My muscles tightened and tensed as I crouched too. And then, I leapt. My body shot through the foliage with lethal precision. She did not hear me until it was too late. She put up a good fight, screaming and sinking her pathetic teeth into my thick fur. I’ll give her credit - she may have even broken skin. But in the end, she was only human. Her blood tasted sweet on my lips. Like berries.
I fell asleep, sated.
I woke up, raving.
It was night. The same night? Days later? My mouth was dry. My bones were burning. I was surprised smoke didn’t rise from my coat as I crashed through the underbrush. Surely, the heat was enough to start a fire. Something had been wrong with the girl. I should have known. Clearly she had been wasting away under the influence of some disease, and now that disease flowed through me. It beat in my blood.
Throwing my head back, I let out an agonized howl. My raised eyes registered the milky silhouette of the full moon against the night. And then my body folded. Pops of pain exploded down my spine, behind my eyes. I howled into the night, and the howl became a scream. And the scream sounded eerily familiar.
Consciousness returned on the forest floor. It was brutally cold, colder than the woods had ever been. I curled into myself, trying to warm my trembling body, and my snout nudged against something wet and fleshy. My eyes snapped open, and a flood of overwhelming color assaulted me. I sprang to a standing position, pawing my face. But my paws were limb and febrile, and I could not stand properly. My lips fumbled, trying to howl in pain, but only a wet wail escaped.
I was vulnerable. A pallid sack of penetrable organs. I trembled. Every cracking twig, every creaking tree was a threat, a latent attack against which my body could not defend. I slunk back to my cave, dragging my clumsy, inarticulate form through the trees. I laid on the stone floor, shaking, my limbs jutting uncomfortably. No wonder the girl had shrieked - stuck in such a shell. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to fall asleep, hoping that when I awoke, my body would be restored: feral and functional.

***

Caroline Beuley is a high-school English teacher and writer based in Washington, D.C. Her writing has appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, Maudlin House, Weekly Humorist, Belladonna, and more. She has also been recognized in flash fiction competitions hosted by Hysteria Anthology, Wild Atlantic Writing, Women on Writing, and the Pigeon Review. When she's not teaching or writing, she enjoys taking her dachshund, Dumbledore, on walks and throwing bits of paper around for her cat, Eloise.