Chapter Text
Casey's heart pounded in her chest as she scrambled for the gun, tears streaming down her face.
The monstrously strong hands of The Beast wrapped around her leg and yanked her backwards, pulling her just out of reach of the weapon. The skin of her hands and arms scraped against the rough stone floor as The Beast hauled her to him, and she cried out as his teeth sunk into the meat of her calf. In a moment of sheer terror, she stretched as far as she could towards the shotgun, the tips of her fingers just long enough to wrap around the handle and pull it to her.
Hurriedly, she cocked it, twisting onto her back and aiming at The Beast. There was a split-second of relief when she felt him remove his teeth from her leg, but it was quickly replaced with panic as he predicted her movements and knocked the weapon from her hands, sending it flying a few yards away from where they were.
She kicked and flailed as he crawled atop her, but try as she might, she couldn't get away. She screamed as The Beast tore at her last two shirts, ripping the cloth with ease as her stomach became exposed through the last layers of fabric. She waited for the horrifying moment when he bit into the flesh of her stomach, tore through the layers of skin and ate at her insides-
But it never came.
She waited, thinking certainly he was just toying with her, prolonging her suffering.
But the longer she waited, and the longer nothing happened, she grew less afraid and more confused.
Cautiously, she looked down, seeing that The Beast was, indeed, still there.
But he wasn't biting. Or clawing. Or scratching. He was just...looking. At first she was puzzled, but then she realized that he must have been looking at her scars. The Beast slowly pulled apart the tear he'd made in her last shirt, spreading the rip until the cloth separated completely, her bra being the only thing left on her upper body to cover her. Casey watched as he took in every scar that marred her body, observed every permanent reminder that told her she was worthless.
She froze when he moved to hover just above her, truly dwarfing her with his size, and reached out a finger to trace a particularly nasty mark along her left collarbone. She gasped at the contact, just waiting for the moment when he lost interest and went back to killing her, but again, that moment never came.
The Beast looked up at her, fingertips still brushing against her skin, amazement on his face.
"You are worthy," he whispered, a slow smile coming to his lips. "Rejoice! You are worthy!"
His thunderous words echoed through the hallway as his volume increased with his excitement, startling Casey to no end.
Tears stung at her eyes, and she sadly shook her head. "...No," she said finally, ashamed. "I'm not."
The Beast looked down at her, confusion clear on his face. "You are," he insisted. "The broken are the more evolved. You are pure."
A strong wave of fresh tears sprung in her eyes at that statement - she wasn't pure, she was dirty - and she couldn't help it as they rolled down her cheeks in endless streams.
"Rejoice," he said softly, smiling tenderly as he leaned his face closer to hers. "Rejoice..."
She said nothing in reply, merely cried harder and shook her head.
No. She wasn't worthy. She knew she wasn't. How could she be? She'd been used, abused, tortured, and taken advantage of since she was old enough to speak proper sentences. How was that pure? How did that make her 'better' than everyone else? Than Marcia and Claire and that doctor woman? No. She was not worthy. She was tainted, broken, and scarred. And try as she might, she hardly saw anything admirable in that.
"You don't believe..." The Beast whispered, eyes widening in disbelief.
His eyes took on a sort of sympathy as he stared down at her, and Casey could hardly believe how mild and soft his demeanor was compared to how savage he'd been just moments ago. Her tears finally began to subside, and her eyes cleared to the point where she could finally see him properly. He looked...sad. Disappointed. Even sorry. Like she was a young lamb and he pitied her for her innocence, for her ignorance. It was the same look her relatives would give her every time her father was brought up.
The Beast's eyes drifted from hers and off into space, as though considering something. Deliberating with the others, maybe. Whatever was happening, a conclusion must have been reached, because moments later a look of clarity and certainty crossed his face, overtaking his features as he focused his gaze back on her.
"We must show you." He said finally, expression settling into one of determination.
His tone left no room for argument.
Without another word, The Beast wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up, and before she knew what was happening, he was carrying her away into the night.