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The Beast Within - (2/2)

~ Ｖｉｃｅ＃１ ~

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲

(𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝟏-𝟔)

----

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦:

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴

"𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘴 '𝘐.'"

Ｍｕｓｉｃ：

“𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴” - 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘓𝘢𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘢

“𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬” - 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰

Apologies for the late post. October 7th (today/yesterday) was my birthday, and my older sister, @powerful-niya, my family, and I spent the last couple of days celebrating. So once again, my apologies, lol. 😅❤️ I hope you all enjoy the finale of The Beast Within. As always, it was a joy to write! 🐻❤️

Art was found on Pinterest. All credit goes to the original artists, designers, and photographers.

🐻staring: Beast!Miguel O’Hara x Explorer Fem!Reader

✒️preview:

He cleared his throat, crouching down to your level as you sat on the edge of his bed. “My body is craving a new mate, little twig,” he bluntly stated, his face full of seriousness.

“I haven’t cared about mating in a long while, but you’ve reawakened the urge,” he explained, his hands constantly seeking to touch you, now running along your arms. “So for my… price,” Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours, taking in your emotions that were hard for him to read.

“I want to mate with you, humanita.”

❄️summary: The Monster of the Great Mountains was a tale that spread far and wide—a story of a creature that slaughtered anyone who dared enter the snowy peaks of the Great Mountains. Fueled by the growing fear propagated by the media, you decided to take on this legend. As a supernatural explorer, you sought out hauntings, monsters, and creepy artifacts, determined to prove to the world that they were simply tales told in the dark—nothing more.

But with your latest discovery, you may soon find that not every story is just a story.

🖤tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Blood (Just a smidge), Body Worship, Cock Bulge, Claiming, Cunninglius, Dirty Talk, Gore, Marking, Multiple Organisms, Non-human AU, Olfactophilia, Oral Sex, Ownership, Pussy Worship, Scent Kink, Size Kink, Size Different, Riding, Violence, many more…

🏔️Pet names: Gusano (Worm), Humanita (Little Human), Terca (Stubborn One)

📘Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🤎 Word Count: Total - 11k, Part 2 - 7k words

🐻Click here for Part 1

‘What madness compelled me to leave this human unscathed, and instead bring it back to my den?’ This was the only rattling question that filled Miguel’s mind as he carried the unconscious woman against his furry chest through the harsh blizzard.

His narrowed eyes occasionally snapped down to the human, so small, fragile, weak. ‘I have gone mad,’ he concluded with a grumble, crunching through the snow as the blizzard raged at an all-time high.

‘Should’ve left her. Should’ve killed her,’ his inner voice growled. ‘Why did I pull her from the snow when the Great Mountains so clearly sought her sacrifice with that avalanche?’ The monster wondered, not understanding his actions.

But Miguel knew the reason—the atrocious reason.

This human was seemingly different, dangerously so.

Any other human, male or female, who entered the Great Mountains was met with death. It was their rightful punishment as the bear saw it.

But Miguel found himself incapable of harming this human, and it rattled him.

The snow-encased breeze lashed at his fur, causing him to tighten his grip on the fragile creature, holding the human closer to his chest to warm and protect.

It wasn’t long before his mahogany eyes spotted his cave through the blizzard—a well-hidden opening on the side of the mighty Great Mountains.

With a huff, he quickened his pace. ‘She’s ice cold. Not good. Not good for a small thing like her.’ He found himself worrying. Escaping the harsh storm, the beast ducked into his home.

Upon entering the cave, the beast was greeted by the warmth of a small fire—embers glowing within a ring of stones. In one corner of the large cavern lay a heap of furs and hides that the bear used as a makeshift bed. Collections of bones, logs, and trophies from hunts, such as antlers, hung on a ledge as decorations.

The cave was completed by a naturally formed alcove in one of the walls, where the bear stored small items like bowls, containers, and his food. Chunks of dried meat, fish, and winter berries were kept and preserved there, aided by the natural cold of the cave and small ice pockets along the niche.

The beast swiftly moved along, and with great care— foreign to him—he settled the human down upon the plush furs. ‘Careful. Nice and easy,’ he told himself, afraid of accidentally harming the much weaker being, this sense of caution unfamiliar to him.

Miguel’s eyes roamed the unconscious human, taking in the sight of them inside his most sacred space. The bear wanted to scowl at the thought, still unable to believe he had allowed such a wretched thing to breathe another breath of air—inside his lair, of all places.

His clawed, calloused hand lifted to brush the drenched strands of hair from the human’s face. The beast marveled at the woman’s softness, so different from his own fur and rough skin. Like touching sizzling fire, he yanked his hand away, growling at himself. “What has come over me?” he snarled, standing up and moving away to start a fire, needing to distance himself from the puny human of temptation lying on his bedding.

“It’s a human—a lying, deceitful, and greedy human,” the beast spat, his blood boiling at the mere thought of the despicable little monsters. He had sworn long ago to protect these mountains from their clamorous fingers and to slaughter every single one of them, like they’d done his little one—his precious cub he had failed to save.

Miguel’s teeth clenched together, claws digging into the stick he held to stoke the fire, tearing through the bark. “Now one wishes to entice me—blind me with her—” The beast snarled, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping beauty, taking note of how completely still she lay. The sight was almost alarming.

His heart leapt, and he hurried to prepare a small broth and warm water over the fire before returning to her side. It had been a long time since he’d felt fear or concern, but the bear detested how his worry was for a human—the very beings that took everything from him and sought to take even more.

Glancing at the entrance of his cave, he saw the brutal winds and cutthroat chills, knowing the blizzard wouldn’t stop anytime soon. ‘She’s a weak, lowly human. She’ll die if she goes back out there,’ Miguel thought. But another jarring voice filled his head: ‘Why do I care? It’s a human. I should kill her now. Snap her like a twig underfoot.’ The words clouded his mind, but when he looked at her, he couldn’t will himself to do it.

‘Was it her appearance?’ The beast wondered, wishing to understand the reason behind his hesitance. His gaze ran along the slope of her nose, the fan of her long lashes against her flushed skin, and the curve of her red, parted lips, which seemed to call out to him. “This human is… decent,” he grumbled, unwilling to admit aloud his attraction to her beauty. But he could feel his body heat rising, not out of anger like he usually felt, or to warm himself when the mountains became too cold, but for another reason...

An animalistic want.

A shaky exhale escaped his muzzle when he finally noticed it.

Your scent.

Like honey, it clung to every part of his cave, flooding his den and clouding his senses.

Sweet, intoxicating, and very, very dangerous…

The bear groaned, feeling an ache inside him that he hadn’t felt in years—an ache to mate, to bury himself inside a warm burrow and rut until he was content.

‘It’s her scent that’s causing this… indifference.’ The beast assumed with a gulp, a part of him wanting to lunge at the sleeping human, to take what he wanted and needed. Yet another side of him felt a sense of protectiveness for this frail, yet hated being.

“I need to stay away from her. Get far away,” the demihuman whispered, but found himself incapable of moving, no matter how much of a risk he knew he was taking by standing in her presence.

He growled, hearing the raving storm outside. ‘Just until the storm passes,’ Miguel told himself, gently reaching out to cup the woman’s jaw. Instantly, he noticed how small she was compared to his massive palm, his thumb tenderly tracing her cheek. ‘Then she’ll leave, or…

I’ll kill her…’

For once, Miguel found the latter as difficult as chewing through stone.

The bear slowly became entranced by the soft rise and fall of your chest, your beauty, and an overwhelming desire to fully take in your scent.

Lifting your chin without hesitation, he buried his snout in your neck and took a deep inhale. Like the sweetest nectar quenching his parched throat, a feral growl rumbled from him.

His eyes fluttered shut, your scent so intoxicating it seemed to ensnare him, making him crave more with each breath. Sniffing along the length of your sensitive throat, his muzzle brushed your skin, each inhalation only making his cock throb beneath his gray loincloth, causing him to groan.

Drool trickled past his lips, dripping down his jaw as though he'd gone days without food. "Oh, Great Mountains, what are you doing to me?" he muttered in ecstasy, his rough hands gripping your shoulders to keep you rooted beneath him on his pile of furs.

The more he ravaged your throat with sniffs, the stronger his need to mate became, a primal stirring in his loins. The creature wanted to touch, taste, and claim, the restraints holding him back beginning to loosen.

A soft whimper, not from Miguel, broke through his daze, stopping him abruptly. Eyes widening, Miguel swiftly stood, his massive chest heaving. 'No, you fool,' he scolded himself, barely able to believe how quickly he'd succumbed to his animal urges.

'She's human. Vulnerable and weak. Not for you. Never for you,' he thought, jaw clenching as he watched you stir. When your eyes met his mahogany gaze, he braced for your inevitable reaction to his beastly form looming over you.

Your eyes slowly opened, feeling as if you'd been hit by a truck. Your entire body ached—a blend of cold, bruised limbs and warmth. A weak groan escaped you as your vision tried to focus on your surroundings.

The first thing you noticed was the jagged stone walls surrounding you, so different from the vast snow where you last remembered being. Furrowing your brows, you struggled to recall what had happened.

‘Greg and I came to these mountains to explore. Greg left me stranded, I made camp, then the blizzard, and then—’ Your chest heaved as fear gripped you. You turned to your side, locking eyes with a pair of mahogany orbs staring right back at you.

“What’s g-going on? W-Where am I? H-How am I a-alive?” you stammered frantically, finally coming to terms with what stood before you. “Y-you're—” You gulped, eyes wide as you took in the beast that you once believed to be a myth, now undeniably real.

The creature was massive, a blend of human and bear-like features, both alluring and terrifying. His chest rippled with strength beneath thick, coarse fur that lined the center of his pectorals, with a trail of hair descending from his navel beneath a gray fur loincloth. His broad torso, with large, powerful pectorals, rose and fell with every breath, exuding raw power and barely concealed aggression.

His dark brown fur matched the wild mane atop his head, and his furry arms and shoulders were equally formidable, veins pulsing along his sinewy limbs.

The mahogany eyes of the White Walker pierced through you, his gaze animalistic beneath his wild hair. His shadow engulfed you, his immense size and presence looming menacingly, making your heart pound in your chest.

You watched the beast, battling your fear and the instinct to flee while remaining on guard. The atmosphere was tense, as if you were being sized up by the predatorwho was ready to strike at any moment.

“In my den,” the bear answered, his deep voice reverberating through the stone enclosure, making you jump. Your body screamed at you to run, but how could you when your feet were so frozen in your boots you couldn’t feel them?

“W-why?” you asked, your voice so cold it was hoarse. “I-I…thought I was dead.” The memory of your near-death experience and the hopelessness that had gripped you came rushing back causing you to clench the rawhide blanket tightly in your gloved hands.

Your heavy coat, pants, and boots—once believed to be your protection—were now soaked through, the melted ice intensifying the chill against your skin. Despite the dire circumstances, you forced yourself to stay strong, staring at the monster and trying not to show your fear.

However, it was hard to ignore the stiffness and soreness of your body. If his intentions were to kill you, it would be all too easy in your weakened state.

Miguel stared at the human, finding you even more captivating now that you were awake. The sight of your small, fragile body filled with life, gazing up at him with those beautiful eyes, sent a strange tingle through him. He cleared his throat, shaking off the unfamiliar feeling of fascination as his thick brows furrowed.

“I pulled you from the snow, human,” he spat, turning his back to tend to the simmering broth of meat he was preparing.

Miguel didn’t know what humans ate, but if the broth was enough to nourish him, it should be enough to strengthen the fragile creature resting in his bed.

Grasping a hand-carved wooden bowl, he began to ladle the broth into it. The smell was rich and savory, and Miguel grunted in approval, secretly hoping it would be to your liking—before quickly dismissing the thought.

You watched the beast, recalling everything you’d ever heard or read about him. ‘But here he is, crouched over the fire, proving everything I thought was fiction to be fact,’ you thought, still struggling to come to terms with it.

But you were wrong.

So very wrong…

You couldn’t help but marvel at the creature, his body brimming with strength. His large frame and powerful muscles flexed with his every movement. You found yourself wondering just how strong he truly was, whether he possessed any supernatural abilities, and how long he had lived in the cold, desolate Great Mountains.

The explorer in you couldn’t help pondering questions about the White Walker, but one thought above all echoed in your mind: ‘Why save me?’ That question rose to the surface again and again, desperate for an answer as you sat frozen in place.

Every story and legend about the Monster of the Great Mountains told of his hatred for humans—how he killed any trespassers, inflicting slow, excruciating deaths out of spite. ‘But… he saved me?’ You nearly laughed at the irony, though the coughing fit rising in your throat quickly stifled it.

You had been sure he would kill you—that he’d dug you out of the snow just to toy with you, waiting for you to regain consciousness for his amusement. ‘It wouldn’t be any fun to kill a human if they weren’t awake,’ you belived were the beast’s thoughts,

Teeth chattering, chills wracking your body, numbness gripping your fingers and toes, and the overwhelming sense of vulnerability—it all felt like torture, knowing death was still likely to come.

“I-If… you’re going to k-kill me, just do it,” you croaked, trying to maintain your bravado. Head held high, you stared at the beast’s broad back as he filled the wooden bowl. “I-I won’t… beg for my life, so g-get it over with if t-that’s what you want.” you said, your voice trembling with cold, though the terror in your chest contrasted sharply with your defiant words.

Miguel raised an eyebrow, surprised by your words. He had never heard a human so openly ask for death, much less demand it. Huffing, he poured another ladle of broth into the bowl before rising to his full height.

When his gaze met yours again, his heart leapt at the sight of your narrowed eyes and determined expression. Yet, beneath the surface, he could practically smell your fear.

It was…

Captivating.

4The bear’s footsteps were heavy and deliberate as he approached you, his face devoid of emotion. “Drink,” he commanded, ignoring your previous demand. Miguel watched with mild surprise as your face twisted in anger, pushing his hand away and rejecting him.

“I-I don’t want that,” you stated firmly, surprised your arms were even capable of moving from their frozen position at your sides. “Why am I here? T-Tell me. Now,” you demanded, unwilling to let your questions be dismissed. If you were going to be killed, you felt you had the right to know.

A deep growl escaped the beast, his paw tightening around the bowl. “You will obey, or I will make you,” he threatened, his tone holding little patience. Again, he thrust the bowl toward you. “Drink. Now.” Miguel commanded, cradling the back of your head and bringing the wooden container to your lips.

The bear’s touch in your hair was unexpected, but strangely, not unwelcome. You glanced at the bowl of brown broth, the small pieces of meat floating inside enticing you.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you had eaten…

You swallowed, the warm broth soothing your parched throat, its smell alluring. Wary, you glanced at him before allowing him to feed you since your hands were still too numb from the cold.

A quiet purr escaped him as his nails combed through your drenched hair, caressing your scalp. He relished the look of defiance you gave him with each sip you took.

Miguel felt his cock twitch beneath his loincloth as he watched your lips part over the container. He assisted, tilting the bowl to help you drink the broth he’d made for you.

The interaction felt intimate, watching your pretty eyes flutter shut as you slurped his cooking. The bear couldn’t help subtly stroking your scalp whilst you ate.

You hummed, finishing the broth, and pulling away with a sigh. Coming back to reality, you glanced skeptically at the beast. The broth had warmed you, but you couldn’t wrap your head around the reasoning behind the creature’s kindness—if you could even call it that.

You couldn’t deny that the broth helped. The hot liquid soothed your frozen insides and tasted surprisingly good.

Not that you’d ever tell him that…

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you glared at the beast, clearing your throat. “Now, answer me. W-what am I doing here?”

Miguel eyed you for a moment, debating whether or not to reveal the truth. His fingers loosened from your hair, leaving behind a lingering warmth.

His pride led him to dismiss the question entirely. “All you humans do is take and take. Even when there’s nothing left to be taken, you seek to claim something else that isn’t yours,” he growled, his disdain evident. He tossed the empty bowl to the cave floor with a loud thud.

“I sought to cleanse my lands of you wretched beings,” Miguel stated, his mahogany eyes seeming to glow redder as his anger flared.

“And then you came.”

“Me?!” you exclaimed, raising an eyebrow in surprise. You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking abou—” your words cut off into sputtering coughs. You hacked into your hands, the cold overwhelming you as you practically barked up a lung.

Miguel’s eyes widened, and he hastily moved to your side. He wanted to leave you to your growing sickness, but for the first time, he felt something close to sympathy for a human.

Grumbling, Miguel yanked the blanket off your body, revealing your drenched, cold jacket, pants, and boots.

“W-What are you… doing?” you asked between coughs, your voice weak. The bear ignored you, grasping the wet fabric of your coat and giving it a squeeze, watching water drip from it. “You’re soaked and cold. Not good,” he rumbled. “Undress.” The beast commanded, pulling away.

Your entire body tensed, your head snapping toward the monster in disbelief. “W-What?”

“Take off your clothes,” he repeated sternly, leaving no room for refusal. You shook your head and burst into another fit of coughs. “N-No… I-I-I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, not wanting to show any weakness.

“No, you’re not,” Miguel snarled, his brows narrowing at your defiance. “You and I both know you won’t survive another minute in this state, twig.” He hissed, looking you up and down, noting how your cheeks and nose were rosy, your face sickly.

The bear found himself cupping your face, his massive hand cradling your jaw. “You’ll get sick and die, little twig,” Miguel purred, tracing his thumb along your cheekbone. “The Great Mountains aren’t meant for humans.”

Your breath hitched, his body heat so comforting against your cold skin that you subconsciously nuzzled into his palm, seeking warmth. Realizing your mistake, you quickly pulled away. “W-Why do you care?” you asked, wheezing. “I-I thought you… h-hated humans.” You coughed.

Miguel huffed, his heart skipping a beat when you snuggled against his palm. “I’ve told you already, gusano,” he said, gazing at you, your scent surrounding him. A growl rumbled in his chest. “Undress… I won’t ask again.”

The threat made your heart drop. You met his gaze and saw he was entirely serious. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes at him.

“F-Fine…”

Your trembling fingers slowly worked to unfasten the straps from your wrists, freeing your palms from the drenched gloves. You sighed, tossing them aside before beginning to remove your clothes. Glancing up at the beast, you noticed the flicker of fascination in his eyes before he masked it with his usual stoicism.

“Continue,” he rasped, his arms crossed over his large chest. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the zipper of your puffy jacket, drawing it down to reveal the soaked sweater underneath. You shrugged off the heavy coat, casting it to the cave floor with your gloves. The cold air immediately sank into your wet sweater, making you shiver.

You were about to stop, but the bear’s growl urged you to continue. Cursing under your breath, you gripped the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head, exposing your bare, wet skin to the icy cave. Adding the sweater to the pile of clothes, you were left in only your bra, pants, and boots. You quivered, reaching for the blankets to seek warmth.

“No,” the bear said, gripping your wrist to stop you. “All of it.” He nodded toward the rest of your clothes, clearly expecting you to remove everything.

You scoffed, unable to believe the audacity of this creature. “I-I will do no such thi—” another fit of coughs interrupted your words.

Miguel growled, having had enough. He reached for you, ignoring your protests as his rough hands gripped your pants and pulled them down along with your undergarments. He continued undressing you, his senses overwhelmed by your scent, which intensified with every layer he removed.

After removing your boots and finally your bra, he left you completely bare on his fur bedding.

“That wasn’t so hard, human,” he rumbled, his gaze sweeping over your nude form, his heart dropping.

Your body was a vision of perfection upon his bed. Your skin, pale from the cold with a patchwork of bruises, bore the harsh marks of the avalanche. The purplish-blue splotches trailed along your hips, thighs, and arms where the snow and debris had pummeled you.

Miguel could see the tiny hairs standing on end on your legs and arms, your body trying desperately to generate heat in its exposed state.

He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly, the cool air brushing over your sensitive skin as the ethereal curves of your body lay vulnerable and on display before the beastly creature.

Your nipples, hardened from the cold, stood out against the soft flesh of your breasts, and the faint shadows of muscles you had built from years of exploration were evident as your stomach tensed, drawn in from the chill.

Miguel noticed blotches of redness along your skin where your wet clothes had clung tightly. The beast wanted nothing more than to lick your wounds, bruise after bruise, and ravish your body until he was satisfied.

The growing ache in the pit of his stomach intensified—the urge to grasp the small human and do what he should have done the moment he rescued you from the avalanche. But he had to stop himself.

‘She's small, fragile. Not for you,’ he reminded himself once more.

No matter how beautiful you looked lying upon his bedding, Miguel must quell the need inside of him.

In a mixture of embarrassment and shock, you swiftly grabbed the rawhide blanket, tugging it over your body. You had never felt so humiliated, laying completely bare before a being you had once denied existed, feeling weak—a feeling you were not used to.

“H-Happy?” you shivered, trying to keep an authoritative tone in your voice. Yet, oddly, a warmth in your gut found his gaze of desire to be…

Interesting…

Miguel didn't respond, instead, he picked up your clothes and boots, and swiftly moved to hang them by the fire.

He needed to distance himself from you before he lost control.

You studied him, your fingers toying with the fur on the blanket. You had so many questions and wondered if the mysterious creature would answer any of them. “Do you have a name?” you inquired, hoping for an easy question he’d answer.

Hugging the rawhide tightly over your body, you awaited his response, wishing he’d give you something useful.

Miguel ran his palm along your drenched sweater, smoothing it out where it hung. “Miguel,” he replied gruffly.

“Miguel…” You whispered his name, trying it out, but the sound of it on your lips stirred something under his loincloth. “What is yours, terca?” Miguel asked, secretly wanting to know yours as well.

“Y/N,” you said, feeling the discomfort of your wet hair sticking to the back of your neck and shoulders. Reaching up, you gave the heavily soaked strands a squeeze to relieve them of water, your movements sluggish.

The bear watched you closely, hearing the unique name. “Y/N,” he muttered so softly you couldn’t hear, his fascination evident.

Miguel hated the interest he felt for you—a human. He was supposed to hate all humans, the same creatures who had raided his lands and killed his little girl.

He wasn’t meant to feel anything for you, so why did he?

He huffed, picking up a nearby stick to stoke the fire, needing to occupy his hands.

‘Miguel... I didn’t expect it to have a name,’ you thought, unable to help but track the beast’s movements. His furry, defined backside was to you, his gray loincloth hugging his waist tightly. The muscular curves of his thighs and legs were heavily accentuated beneath his fur as he crouched before the flames.

“What are you?” you asked, fascinated by the creature and wanting to know more about him.

Miguel scoffed, irritation clear in his deep voice. “Why don't you tell me, human? Your kind seems to be all-knowing,” he retorted.

You rolled your eyes, now comfortably warm under the blanket since your soaked layers were removed. ‘Perhaps the creature knows a thing or two,’ you thought, but his lack of answers was starting to irritate you.

“Will you tell me anything, or will you keep me here without reason?” you asked, no longer wanting to beat around the bush.

“I'll decide your fate when the storm passes, twig,” he snapped, glancing back at you from the fire.

The beast grunted, his turn to ask questions. “Why did you come here?” he inquired, standing to his full, towering height, tossing the stick aside. “What foolish ideals led you to me?”

Despite the ominous tone of his words, you gazed up at him without the fear you had felt before. You couldn't explain it, but you felt like he wouldn't hurt you.

“For you,” you confessed, hoping your answer might earn you some in return.

“I came here with a colleague to prove that the ‘Monster in the Great Mountains’ was false,” you chuckled, looking him up and down. “And I must say, I'm not used to being wrong.”

Miguel’s mahogany eyes widened for a moment, surprised by your answer. He stared at you, letting it sink in. “And why were you seeking me? I could have killed you in your ‘search,’” he smirked, remembering the fate of the last human who came for exploration, seeking him and their fate.

You shrugged. “I was seeking a good story—a journal entry to show the tales of you were just that: tales. I didn't believe—didn’t even think you were… real,” you sighed, meeting his eyes.

Miguel chortled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Foolish, just like the rest of them,” he spat, hoping to uncover why you were different—why he couldn’t kill you—but finding only similarities to the other humans he had encountered.

"You do things without thinking, putting yourself in danger just for the sake of proving truths—or tales—false?"The beast scoffed, shaking his head, his brown mane swaying with the movement. “I'm surprised your kind hasn't killed itself off with your idiocy.”

You huffed, feeling attacked. “And what makes you so great?” you shot back, turning to sit on the edge of the bedding, glaring daggers at him. Your hand gripping the blanket that encased your body tightly all the while.

“You’re a lone beast that roams a mountain of snow, only existing to kill a race you deem weaker!�� you spat angrily. “Who gives you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner!?”

“Watch your tongue, mortal!”

Miguel roared, suddenly looming over you in the blink of an eye. “You know nothing of what you speak.” He growled. “So unless you wish to become another sacrifice to the mountains, I'll cease your senseless speech,” he threatened, his claws itching to hurt you, though he knew he really couldn’t.

You gulped, realizing you might have gone too far, but you couldn’t stop. “Why? Is it true?” you pressed, noticing his red eyes and heavy breathing. “You’ve killed enough humans to cover the Great Mountains, and yet, I stand before you. Why?” You demanded, the intensity between you and the beast growing. “Why am I still alive? Why haven’t you killed me like all the others?”

Miguel held your gaze, your questions cutting into him like shards of ice.

Never had he met a human like you—someone who could match his temper, who wasn’t afraid of him, and who returned his anger just as much as he gave.

It made him as hard as stone.

“Why?” he rasped, his paw reaching to grab the back of your head, fingers sinking into your drenched hair. Miguel loved how your stern gaze never faltered, and you didn’t flinch.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Miguel confessed for the first time in your presence.

Your eyes widened as his touch was surprisingly gentle, cradling your head like you were made of glass. “I don’t… understand,” you uttered, brows furrowed.

“Neither do I,” the beast replied, leaning in close.

“I thought it was your appearance,” he purred, tracing his claws along your face. “Then I thought it was your scent,” Miguel muttered, lifting your chin and running his snout along your throat, inhaling your sweet aroma, which made him ravenous.

But that wasn’t it.

“Then, you spoke to me with little to no fear,” he growled, moving up to your ear, nuzzling your skin and savoring the shaky exhale that escaped you. “I’ve never had a human speak to me like that. It’s...

Intoxicating.”

The creature’s closeness and body heat made your heart flutter, his touch hypnotizing you. Yet, you were puzzled as to why you felt this way for a killer beast of all things.

‘Am I dreaming?’ you wondered, questioning if the beast’s existence was just a hallucination—that you were sicker than you believed.

The bear pulled away, his mahogany eyes now burning a deep red, full of desire. His rough fingers traced your lips, nose, and jaw as if studying every aspect of you.

The creature’s behavior sent shivers through you, the sensations too real to be a hallucination, though you wondered if you were truly lost.

You bit your lip, eyes roaming over his beastly and human features, trying to uncover the reason behind your shared fascination. Then it hit you—

You were the first.

You, Y/N, the infamous supernatural explorer, were the first to meet Miguel—the White Walker and Monster of the Great Mountains.

Before you, no one had set foot in the Great Mountains without facing death, let alone seeing him and feeling his curious strokes along your cheeks.

Miguel was a mystery, and not only could you confirm his existence, but you could be the first to discover all of him, if you so chose to.

You observed the beast, secretly admiring how gentle he was when touching you—his fingers featherlight along your ears. “Then perhaps…” you began, his hand stilling on your hair as he ran your strands between his forefinger and thumb.

You smiled, looking him up and down, noticing his hardened eight-pack and the scars that decorated his chest, with some hidden under his furred arms. “Perhaps I’ll let you find the answer to your questions, if you allow me to do the same,” you offered.

Miguel’s thick eyebrows furrowed, withdrawing his fingers from your hair. He was intrigued by your proposal, his animalistic urges wild beneath his skin, but he was also…

Afraid.

“My questions come with a price,” his deep voice replied, eyeing your smaller body and wondering how intimacy between you could occur without harm.

“As do mine,” you retorted with a smirk, enjoying how your words surprised the beast. “Name your price.”

Miguel grunted, admiring your confidence. He felt his body responding more and more to your bravery, something nearly all humans he’d met previously lacked.

He cleared his throat, crouching down to your level as you sat on the edge of his bed. “My body is craving a new mate, little twig,” he bluntly stated, his face full of seriousness.

“I want to mate with you, humanita.”

Disbelief coursed through you.

‘Mate? He wants to mate… with me?!’ you thought, though your face masked your true feelings well.

You could see the need in his gaze, the way his chest heaved and shaky, rumbling exhales escaped him.

Although you hesitated at the thought of such an act with the large, killer beast, your desire for knowledge and discovery outweighed everything.

“Okay, you have yourself a deal, Miguel,” you grinned, testing the waters by running a finger along the slope of his defined cheekbone, feeling him stiffen at your touch. “Only if you’re okay with me studying you in the process.”

Miguel groaned, leaning into your touch as the anger and aggression—emotions that always simmered within him—were quelled by your presence and soft strokes.

"I'm fine with your… observations, human," Miguel grumbled, grasping the blanket you used to conceal your body, preparing to rip it free.

His arousal heightened when your hand loosened, allowing him to remove the fur shield.

You felt the beast slowly draw the rawhide fabric from your being, exposing your bare self to him in all its glory.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as the bear stood in awe, hand still holding the blanket, completely frozen. "I take it you've never seen a human this way?"

Miguel licked his lips, a slight scoff escaping him. "I’ve never cared to," he muttered, dropping the hide and advancing toward you.

His massive hands grasped your breasts first, swallowing the soft flesh in his palms. The bear sniffed and licked at your shoulder and neck, familiarizing himself with your scent.

"You are so small, little human. I fear I may harm you," the beast admitted, voicing his concerns. His grip on your chest was gentle, brushing over your nipples with his thumbs with tender swipes.

You moaned, your back arching into his palms. Running your nails through his hair, you tugged gently. "Hmm… who knew you were such a gentle bear, Miguel?" you teased, grinning as his eyes darkened.

"Gentle… bear?" The beast repeated, a challenge in his gaze. With a snarl, he pushed you back onto his bedding, engulfing you in an instant with his body of muscles and fur.

You couldn’t help but laugh, provoking him quickly becoming your new favorite game. "Yes, quite a gentle one for a killer beast," you giggled, humming softly as he ran a flat tongue along the pulse point of your neck.

Miguel was slowly losing himself, needing the reminder that his new mate was human to keep him grounded. Yet, despite how foreign the word "gentle" felt, he found himself liking it when it came from your lips.

"Sí, I can be… gentle," he whispered gruffly, trailing down your body, following the alluring scent that had tempted him since he pulled you from the snow.

Miguel gave your inner thighs a nip, smirking when you jolted. "Así que, considérate afortunada, pequeña humanita," he purred, feeling his shaft pressing against the gray fur of his loincloth at the scent of your arousal.

Your eyes fluttered, fingers stroking his hair and ears from atop his head. You gasped at the sensation of his nose pressing against your core, seeking to smell your readiness.

“F-fuck...” you cursed, your head falling back on the fur bed, legs spreading wider for him.

Repeatedly, you glanced down, still in disbelief that it was truly a massive bear causing such pleasure. The situation was surreal, and you couldn't help but think, ‘Shit, this would make one hell of a journal entry.’

You bit your lip, savoring how the mysterious creature was making you feel so incredibly good.

Miguel lapped at your core, his tongue teasing your clit while exploring every inch of your intimate area. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, keeping them spread as he continued his feast.

Like the beast he was, he ravaged his new mate—suckling, nipping, and licking your entrance. His tongue tasted your wetness, loving how you dripped for him and how your grip tightened in his hair.

Your body writhed and squirmed, feeling like the bear was everywhere at once. His teeth grazed your thighs, leaving love bites, while he suckled your swollen clit and lapped at your entrance. The sensations overwhelmed you, and it wasn’t long before that familiar burning built in your belly, only to explode just as quickly.

You choked back a moan, your body writhing in bliss, feeling weightless as the beast devoured every drop you gave him.

But even after you climaxed, Miguel couldn’t get enough of you. You smelled so good, tasted even better, and his tongue trailed along your trembling thighs, marking them with his scent and teeth, wanting all to know you were his new mate.

The bear found himself content to stay between your legs, basking in your heat and scent until the end of his days. And he would have…

Had his cock not demanded your attention.

Miguel pulled away, your scent still clinging to his snout. His clawed hands didn’t hesitate to rip his fur loincloth away, revealing his massive, drooling shaft.

Your dazed eyes widened at the sight of it, the fogginess of your mind vanishing in an instant. You knew for certain that he wouldn’t fit. “You are rather… big,” you remarked with a nervous chuckle, trying to mask your anxiousness.

The beast glanced down at his own shaft, a breathy laugh escaping him for the first time in a long while. “Sí, it is,” he smirked, grabbing your ankles and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed with ease.

You yelped at his strength, your body sliding effortlessly like you weighed nothing. Gasping, you felt his heavy shaft rest against your stomach.

Swallowing hard, you realized, like always, you might have bitten off more than you could chew, but the ache of desire coursing through you was undeniable—and very enticing.

The beast’s shaft was unlike anything you had ever seen. It was long and equally girthy, with a pink tip and a dark brown base that matched his fur. His balls were large and hairy, about the size of two grapefruits, hanging heavily at the base of his impressive length. The veins along his member throbbed, and pre-cum dripped steadily from his shaft, showing his evident need.

“Don’t lose your confidence now, little twig,” he purred, resting his large hands on either side of your head, the pile of furs sinking beneath you under his weight. “It’s what makes you so delectable,” the beast rasped into your ear, tugging at your earlobe with his sharp teeth.

You scoffed, masking your hesitation with a layer of false courage. “Who said I was afraid, beast?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached down to grip the massive cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes. You bit your lip, surprised at its weight.

“Let me take control, Miguel,” you said with a naughty grin, looking up at the beast while working him over with your hand. “Let me show you just how strong a human can be.”

Miguel’s mind turned to mush, a rush of pleasure and need causing him to drool slightly. His little human—his mate—was very brave and bold, something he had grown to adore.

“Está bien,” he uttered breathlessly, thrusting one last time into your soft palm before pulling away to stand over your prone body.

For the first time, Miguel looked to someone else for direction.

Pleased, you rose up, noting the size difference as your head tilted back to maintain eye contact. Taking his hand, you guided him to lie down on the pile of furs, watching as his muscular form sank into the soft fabrics.

Miguel’s red eyes followed your every move, wary of what you had planned. “Careful, humanita,” he warned, feeling his worry rising again. “I do not wish to harm you,” he muttered, watching you climb on top of him like you were scaling the Great Mountains themselves.

You giggled, balancing perfectly on Miguel’s bulging thighs. “Where’s your confidence gone, mighty protector?” you teased, his cock fully erect and smacking against your belly at your taunt. “It’s what made you delectable,” you laughed, smearing his pre-cum along his tip with your thumb, eliciting a sexy growl from him.

“Besides, I can handle it,” you boldly told him, determined to prove it.

To both Miguel’s and your surprise, you were capable of doing just that.

The beast watched you in sheer amazement as you took his length inside your small body. Animalistic roars and unintelligible words escaped him while you rode him, bouncing on his monster of a cock as if you’d done it countless times before.

His rough paws reached for your waist, his large hands practically enclosing around your center, guiding your movements. Sharp tingles of pleasure surged through his body, leaving him trembling and growling beneath you.

You whimpered, feeling like you’d gone mad with lust at how good his massive cock felt inside you, stretching you to the extreme. “O-Oh, fuck,” was the constant mantra you repeated, curse after curse spilling from your panting mouth with every bounce on his hips.

Miguel couldn’t get enough of how tight you were and how sensitive he was. It had been years—decades—since he’d mated, and only seconds in, he found himself whining like a virgin cub during his first time.

“You’re… impressing me, twig,” the beast huffed, his claws gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. He was mesmerized by the sight of your pussy devouring him in wet guzzles.

The squelching of your pussy didn’t go unnoticed by the bear; the sounds shot straight to his cock as you repeatedly rose and slammed down onto his large, throbbing length, which begged for your return with each departure.

‘Who would’ve thought a small, weak human could take a being like me?’ was all the beast could think between the intense squeezes of your exquisite pussy.

Your hands landed on Miguel’s chest, feeling the taut muscles and scratching new markings into his pecs. You ground yourself on his cock, taking him as deep as your body would allow.

Communication was impossible; your eyes crossed, jaw hanging slack as only curses, moans, and high-pitched noises left your lips.

The bear grunted, noticing your sputtering hips that signaled you were close. Snarling, he tossed you onto your back, taking control before either of you could come to your senses.

His hips moved into you with raw power, his thick-furred muscles snapping with a precision deemed inconceivable. Miguel couldn’t take his eyes off your bouncing tits, the flesh moving in sync with his thrusts and the lustful sight of him joined with his new mate.

The beast’s little human was so strong, taking everything he gave you. He purred, clearly seeing the tip of his girthy cock poke through your soft abdomen, making you tremble and choke back moans at his inhuman size. “Tan perfecta, pequeña, tan perfecta para mí," the creature rumbled, the praise practically unintelligible.

Your combined cries of pleasure rang throughout the cave, bouncing off the stony walls as the blizzard continued to rage outside.

You squirmed, not remembering when your arms enveloped the bear’s broad backside, nails marking his tough skin. Whimpering and moaning in overwhelming pleasure, you were pushed over the edge in an instant when you felt Miguel’s cock press tightly against the opening to your womb.

Shrieking, you released, your back arching off the bedding and your thighs clasping around his waist. Aftershocks of electric bliss coursed through your nerves, shocking you back to life as Miguel continued his rutting.

The beast roared, his hips stalling at the clench you gave him before thrusting more erratically than before.

Burying his face in your neck, the bear whined, “Sí, sí, humanita.” He panted, his fangs grazing the skin of your ear, making you tremble in delight.

“Llevarías a mis pequeñas, mi compañera?" Miguel murmured into your ear, his pace becoming more frantic, his large balls smacking against your ass.

"Llevarás mi legado y te quedarás conmigo. Nunca me dejarías, pequeña compañera. Nunca." The beast growled, allowing the rush to overtake him.

With a loud bellow, the bear came. He held your hips down in a bruising grip, burying his cock as far as it would go, leaving no doubt you were filled with his seed.

Your toes curled, holding onto the monster tightly and moaning into his shoulder. You were left exhausted, your mind empty and devoid of thought. Your belly felt full, stuffed by the beast, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your exploration was complete…

Breathing a sigh of relief, you welcomed the beast beside you, never wanting to let go. Your arms gripped his waist tightly, your face nuzzled into his furry chest.

Out of exhaustion, sleep overtook you in no time, melting into the bear’s hardened pecs as soft snores escaped you.

Miguel pulled you close, engulfing you in his burly arms. He used his massive, furry body to warm and shield you, his fingers brushing strands of your sweaty hair from your face.

He admired the human next to him, never in his life foreseeing this. “A human as my mate?” he whispered with a small chuckle, his hand moving to caress his little human’s belly, knowing what was growing there and what he would ensure would grow.

“You are mine now, Y/N, for all eternity.”

Miguel, the Monster of the Great Mountains, stated, his arms tightening around his new mate.

You were now Miguel’s, his little human and mate who was never to leave his cave.

He’d keep you here, where he could protect you, fill you full of his little cubs, and ensure you’d never escape his sight.

Miguel knew you’d probably fight him and disagree with his desires, but inevitably, you’d stay with him.

Whether you liked it or not…

A/N: That concludes The Beast Within! Writing Miguel as a beast was such an interesting and fun experience for me, and I really enjoyed it. If you enjoyed it just as much as I did, please like, comment, reblog, and follow!

If you’re excited to see what else my older sister, @powerful-niya, and I have in store, stay tuned—Vicetober is just getting started. 😈

Hope everyone has a wonderful day! Stay safe!!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedeva @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywatty @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandagess @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne @lynxslokley @rice-wife @oharafilipinawife @migueloharastruelove @rodriash002 @e1f-boi @user3732094737 @truth-dare-spin-bottles @taleiak @alurafairy @ddreabea @saturnistireddd @reader-1290 @laysmt @reader-1290

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naeverse · 1 month ago

Text

The Beast Within (1/2)

~ Ｖｉｃｅ＃１ ~

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲

(𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝟏-𝟔)

----

𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦:

"𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘴 '𝘐.'"

Ｍｕｓｉｃ：

“𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴” - 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘓𝘢𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘢

“𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬” - 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰

Art was found on Pinterest.

All credit goes to the original artists, designers, and photographers.

🐻staring: Beast!Miguel O’Hara x Explorer Fem!Reader

✒️preview:

He cleared his throat, crouching down to your level as you sat on the edge of his bed. “My body is craving a new mate, little twig,” he bluntly stated, his face full of seriousness.

“I want to mate with you, humanita.”

But with your latest discovery, you may soon find that not every story is just a story.

🏔️Pet names: Gusano (Worm), Humanita (Little Human), Terca (Stubborn One)

📘Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🤎 Word Count: 11k words

Crunch…

The snow cried out beneath the heavy footsteps of the beast. His narrowed eyes glared out into the snowy landscape of the Great Mountains, his home—a place that would never be taken away from him.

It was the middle of winter, the harsh snow season, as the bear beast knew it best.

The chilled breeze rustled his dark brown fur, threatening to send him shivering if it weren't for his heavy coat. His massive form stomped through the snow when his nose caught the scent of…

Smoke…

A deadly growl erupted from him.

Smoke in the Great Mountains meant fire, and fire meant…

Humans…

The bear despised the weak, inferior creatures known as mankind. They were a species that never seemed to die and held a craving that could never be sated, like a crackling, hungry fire in the lowest pits of hell.

Being the guardian of the Great Mountains, Miguel followed the scent. His once slow pace quickened into a run. The beast's massive form was unbothered by the ankle-high snow, trudging through it until the bitter smell was so potent he could taste it on his tongue.

Crouching down, he peered over the hill, spotting a man below, setting up camp. Miguel snarled, watching the human not care at all about how he handled the beast’s sacred land.

Soot from the smoke covered the ground; metal cans lay crumbled while the stupid human babbled and stumbled amongst the garden of aluminum he had created at his feet.

“Foolish, puny human.”

The beast thought, irritated by the man's obliviousness. Moving from his place, Miguel made his way to the intoxicated man below.

The putrid scent of alcohol, sweat, and piss engulfed the bear, causing a low growl to erupt from his chest. Drool trickled down from his fangs, hungry to rip the human to shreds for plaguing his mountain with their wretched existence and, worse still, for roaming along his lands like they owned it.

With almost silent footsteps, despite his huge size, Miguel approached the slurring man from behind. The wind masked his presence as the human stood, pants drawn low and his puny cock out, pissing upon the ground, turning the once white snow a grotesque yellow.

Without uttering a word or growl, the beast's large hand ripped through the air, grasping the man by the nape and yanking him around to face him.

“What are you doing here in my lands!?” the monster bellowed, his fangs protruding from his mouth and his mahogany eyes darkening in blood rage.

Startled, the man babbled while being held off the ground by his throat like a mere doll, trying to explain in a drunken slur. “H-holy shit! I-i-it's you, the f-fucking…” The human stammered in shock from where he dangled in the air. Miguel’s grip on the man’s throat tightened, causing him to scramble in his hold.

“You will answer me, debilucho!” the bear hollered. “What are you doing in my lands?”

“E-Exploration!” he cried out in terror, his voice cracking as he trembled.

The bear’s nostrils flared, eyes narrowed, body heat rising beyond its usual warm temperature as the human continued. “U-uh…a-a colleague and I w-were sent to explore th-”

A loud roar erupted from the depths of the beast's chest, ringing out through the mountains and instantly bringing soberness back to the fool, silencing him.

Miguel tugged him close, the scent of cold, musk, and wet fur invading the man’s senses. “You humans are a plague,” the beast uttered, the venom unmistakable in his voice. “A sickness that seeks to taint everything it touches.” Miguel growled, his eyes glancing at the filth of bottles and cans the man had left upon the snow; the sight only fueling his fury.

His claws dug into the man’s throat, breaking skin as he held him against the tree's trunk. The human’s tears, screams of agony, and drunken pleas were nothing to the beast; his heart froze solid, just like the snowy hills of the Great Mountains. “If your kind wishes to continue to infect—continue to seek claim of the Great Mountains—my mountains,” the bear snarled, warm blood from the human beginning to stream down his nails and forearms, dripping onto the snow, painting it red.

“I'll happily rip every single one of you apart until the Great Mountains know no other taste but human blood.”

The beast promised in a menacing hiss, determination and bloodlust gleaming in his eyes. The human wheezed in response, hands grabbing at the creature’s arms in desperation to cease the monster’s deadly grip, but his attempts were no use.

The beast watched the lowly being struggle, seeking to breathe air and escape death, despite staring it directly in the face.

Just like all the others…

With a harsh yank of the man’s throat, the beast tore the sensitive flesh from its base, causing blood to spurt everywhere and killing the weak being in a matter of seconds.

With indifference, Miguel watched the liquid soak his pecs and fur a deep red, the warmth of the kill like fresh air in his lungs.

‘Another sacrifice for the Great Mountains is all these wretched beings are good for,’ he thought, dropping the piece of flesh along with the body onto the snow like bloody venison after a hunt.

“When will these humans learn? The Great Mountains will never be for them for as long as I draw breath,” he muttered, clenching his fists that were still drenched in the corpse's deep red essence.

The man's previous words were all senseless speech to the beast; however, one thing he spoke of did pique his interest…

“Another human? Here?” His eyes darkened in anger, the familiar rage rising in him once more. “Just like the others, they’ll meet their end, by my hand or the mountains,” he rasped, knowing that the sacred lands of the Great Mountains, like him, didn't take kindly to outsiders—especially the weak.

As quickly as he appeared, he stalked off, stomping over the fire and snuffing the flames underfoot, disappearing into the thick fog once more.

You heaved a sigh, stumbling through the heaps of endless snow for what felt like hours, your heavy gear crushing your poor back. “Gosh, did Greg set up camp yet? I swear that guy can’t do a thing without help,” you muttered, looking around to try and find the familiar warm glow of a fire amidst the foggy cold, but found none.

The Great Mountains loomed around you, their peaks lost in the thick, swirling mist. The snow crunched under your boots with each step, a huge contrast to the muffled silence. Pulling your scarf tighter around your neck, you groaned in annoyance.

‘Did he seriously get drunk again? He had one job!’ you thought, kicking the bothersome snow at your feet, knowing that giving such an important task to your careless colleague was a bad idea; it’s why you always did things yourself.

Trusting others always led to disappointment…

With your newfound situation, you didn't want to stress—worrying never helped—but you were certain of one thing…

Greg's mistake was going to cost you…

This was why you enjoyed working alone. No partner meant no one to bother you—no one to burden you.

Like Greg…

Due to your colleague's drunken oversight leaving you stranded, you set about making camp. “When I was assigned to work with Greg, I should have persisted, told my boss, ‘I work better alone,’ but no, they wanted photos, and apparently, I can't journal and take photos at the same time,” you grumbled to yourself while locating the appropriate items to make a fire: dry sticks, paper from your heavy bag, and your trusty lighter.

With a flick of your igniter and a gentle blow between clasped palms, a fire was born before you. You beamed, watching the small flames start to sprout, proud of your handiwork. “Perfect,” you whispered, closing your eyes to enjoy the heat on your face, no matter how faint it was due to the tiny fire.

Taking a seat upon a log nearby your miniature camp, you settled down. Heaving your heavy sack from your back onto the ground with a thud, a groan escaped you at the refreshing lightness of your body. You glanced back at your pitiful fire, watching it try painstakingly to flare and spark despite the harsh winds that sought to snuff it out.

You stoked the fire with a stick, hoping it would keep the flame alive. “Come on, don’t fail me now,” you sighed, knowing your survival skills were exceptional and always dependable; they had never failed you. But it seemed any minute, your fire might disappoint you and poof before your very eyes.

Around you, the fog seemed to thicken, swallowing the world beyond a few feet and darkening the space. The sky was a mixture of grays and blues, seeming to be perpetually stuck between dusk and midnight. Shadows grew long and sinister as you huddled close to your small fire, its flickering light casting erratic shapes upon the snow.

Amidst the silence and fog, your fire was a comfort, keeping your sight clear and your body from freezing solid underneath your puffy jacket, layered pants, and heavy boots. You’d hoped that as the night progressed, the fog would lift, but it didn’t. With the heavy haze came a wave of uneasiness, one that drew you back to the reason you were here in the Great Mountains to begin with.

The Great Mountains—a land of snowy slopes with year-round winters and sometimes terrible blizzards—held a story that seemed to rattle many, especially the neighboring townsfolk. The tales were so enticing that they caught your eye, leading you to embark on this exploration in search of it…

The being in question went by many names: “The Monster of the Great Mountains,” “The White Walker,” and so many more, but to you, it was known simply as “The Beast.”

The beast’s appearance and origins are unknown. Some believe it to be an angry creature like Bigfoot; a few think of it as a rabid animal gone mad; others even suspect it to be an evil spirit cursed to roam the Great Mountains, killing anyone who enters its territory.

‘Yeah, right.’ You thought with a scoff, finding the idea absurd. Despite not knowing what the beast was, the Great Mountains seemed to be a death zone for any being, particularly humans.

Numerous missing hikers, tourists, and other individuals have emerged over the years, raising enough alarm to support the idea of such an “entity” living among the peaks. ‘As they say…’ you whispered, believing the beast to be merely a tale and that the weather of the Great Mountains was the true monster here.

Unzipping your bag to pull out a pen and your trusty leather-bound journal—where your writings from previous discoveries were kept—you turned to a fresh page and began a new entry.

---

October 6, 2024

The climate of the Great Mountains is just as harsh and chilly as it’s known for; no wonder so many have lost their lives here. There’s said to be a tale about a creature—a being that lurks among these mountains with a ravenous hunger and a huge disdain for humans. I would believe such a monster existed if I hadn't traversed these mountains for almost two days in perfect condition, except for being abandoned by my idiot partner and left shivering by this tiny-ass fire.

Thanks a lot, Greg!

The neighboring town spoke of many deaths and missing persons in the Great Mountains over the years, all of which are “claimed” to have been caused by the beast. Yet, the appearance of this creature is never the same.

A handful believe it to be tall and massive, while others describe it as short and stubby. Some say there is more than one beast, while another swears it isn’t a monster at all, but simply the dead who are doing the killings.

It seems these townspeople are either bat-shit crazy or there are hundreds of beasts running rampant in their backyard—beasts that, it seems, only I have the capability of uncovering the truth about.

But, as I anticipated, Greg and I are separated in these mountains due to his stupidity, and a thick fog has cast itself down upon me. After resting up, I’ll continue my search for this “beast,” but I just hope Greg’s mishap doesn’t ruin my exploration. This beast story has honestly intrigued me, and I’m eager to see this massive, short, tall, tiny, or perhaps ghostly being before my very eyes.

Might even be able to get a picture…

-Y/N, Explorer of the Supernatural

---

You closed your journal with a plop, your thoughts drifting to the stories you’ve heard—tales of the formidable creature with eyes of glowing embers and claws that could rend flesh from bone. You chuckled in disbelief and amusement, shaking your head. “Gosh, if it wasn’t for me, these people would be in an insane asylum with their tales.” You laughed when a shiver ran down your back—one that, creepily enough, wasn’t from the cold.

Your eyes darted around, checking your surroundings with a newfound sense of wariness and unease, something you had never felt before.

Typically, you’d go on expeditions alone, taking on jungles, deserts, and even caves all on your lonesome, as solo exploration was something you enjoyed.

You had become so used to being on your own that partners held you back and made things more difficult than they needed to be, as being an explorer wasn’t easy work.

But this time, something felt…

Off…

Looking out at the foggy abyss before you, your vision was limited to only making out the black silhouettes of the trees in the distance and the falling snow from the heavens above. Your eyebrows furrowed as you giggled nervously. “Come on, don’t lose your mind, Y/N. You’d be no different from those conspiracy theorists if you do,” you uttered, gripping the lapels of your coat and tugging them closer to your body, trying to warm yourself.

The uncomfortable silence, chilly winds, and empty fog made you even more unsettled. You decided to read over your notes in hopes of finding peace, always enjoying anything related to your job.

Plus, you were here to find a beast, so it would be beneficial to refresh your memory on what to be on the lookout for.

Opening your journal and flipping to the section that held the facts about your targeted being, you began to read aloud, mostly to fill the brutal quietness around you and comfort yourself.

“‘The townsfolk speak of hearing loud, gruff roars from the mountains,’” you read from the first bullet point, humming softly to yourself. “So that rules out being a wolf, fox, or coyote,” you murmured, the cold air escaping your lips and circling your head while the small fire crackled softly in the background.

“‘Only two deceased victims were found to be tied to this entity. Their bodies held massive bite and claw marks. One was missing an arm from the shoulder and had a face so disfigured they were unrecognizable. This individual died from the blunt trauma to the head that shattered the skull,’” you said with a grimace, remembering the photos shown to you during your visit to the morgue where the bodies were examined.

“‘The other was so brutally attacked that hardly any of their limbs were intact. They died from shock and blood loss—’” Your words instantly ceased, your attention snapping to the small fire that had just blown out in the wind, encasing you in hazy darkness and arctic chill once again.

“Damn it.” You cursed, your vision completely obscured by the thick fog. The temperature seemed to drop as the wind picked up, blowing cold, harsh breezes at you that made your face numb. “Gosh, I can't see anything,” you chattered, your hand wandering aimlessly until it brushed against your bag, where you hastily tucked your journal in and zipped it up.

Suddenly, a thunderous, monstrous roar resonated through the night, cutting through the silence mercilessly like a blade slicing the air. The sound made your body tense, your head snapping up in shock, believing you must have heard wrong.

‘Goodness, hallucinations now? Don't tell me I have hypothermia,’ you thought, willing to believe your impending death by freezing rather than the existence of a being you deemed nothing more than fiction.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself this beast was false, your chilled blood, racing heart, hyperventilation, and fear were very much real.

You needed to move—get away from this spot that obviously had attracted an animal of some sort and not some savage creature…

Scrambling off the log, your heavy limbs dragged you down due to the freezing temperature as you began to move again. The snow seemed to deepen, your boots sinking into the chilling depths further than your ankle with every step you took. The wind lashed against your face, striking you like a cold whip each time and sending you shivering.

In a matter of minutes, you discovered the reason behind the developing currents…

A blizzard had descended upon you…

The blizzard howled across the Great Mountains, a storm so furious that it began to blur your world into a frosted nightmare. The gusts sliced at you like a thousand ice shards, stinging and stabbing through your layers of clothing. Raising your arm, you tried desperately to shield your face; yet the cruelty of the storm was relentless, causing the freezing air to seep through every barrier and continue its assault.

Your teeth chattered, fingers feeling numb under your gloves, and muscles stiffened to the point that moving became painful. ‘Come on. Move. Just a little further.’ You persisted, the thought of a mere snowfall being the potential death of you, Y/N, the renowned supernatural explorer, left a foul taste in your mouth.

You walked aimlessly, not knowing where you were going, nor having any sights of the direction you were wandering toward, as visibility was nearly impossible.

The blizzard continued, churning a cyclone of snow and wind, whipping the flakes into a swirling vortex that made it hard to discern what was right, left, or even ahead. The storm’s bellowing seemed to come from all around—a dissonance that drowned out all sounds but its own, soon making even thinking impossible.

Your breathing became labored, your throat dangerously dry, and your vision blurry as your chest felt so heavy one would believe a boulder was slowly smothering you. Stumbling over a lump of snow, you crashed onto your knees, falling onto the cold pile of powdered ice.

A sharp pain shot through your dying limbs, awakening all your senses. “F-Fuck!” you gasped, wincing and groaning. You shivered uncontrollably, certain even your blood was running cold. Wheezing, you cradled yourself, trying to bring any form of warmth to your body that was slowly being killed by the blizzard.

Looking up, you found yourself wishing, hoping for rescue from anyone out there to come and save you from your cold grave—and like a miracle, one did.

Through the chaos, you caught a glimpse of something—a human-like figure emerging from the fog!

Your heart skipped a beat, dull eyes widening as you weakly lifted your arms, waving them to try to get their attention from your kneeling position. “H-Help! Help me! Please!” you croaked out in a voice so hoarse and ensnared in coldness that it was painful to shout, but cry out you did.

Relief flooded through you as you saw them turning and walking toward you. But as quickly as you were alleviated, fear struck back into you like a clap of thunder as you watched the human-like figure transform among the fog, realizing that it wasn’t a human after all.

It was a monster…

An enormous silhouette moved with unnatural grace through the blizzard. The shape was massive—a dark, looming figure that confirmed every terrifying tale, theory, and story you had ever heard about the beast.

Your heart pounded, a primal fear gripping you at the creature’s presence as it slowly approached, its existence undeniable.

‘It’s real!? I was wrong, so fucking wrong!’ You could only think over and over again. The sight of it was more horrifying than any story, causing an overwhelming feeling of dread to engulf you.

Astonishment and terror kept you rooted to your spot, unable to move no matter how much you wanted to, only able to stare at the creature that was walking toward you in the distance, getting closer and closer.

A roar, similar to before, erupted through the hazy night from the monster, and you watched in horror as it broke into a sprint, racing right at you.

Scurrying onto your wobbly legs, you took off in the opposite direction, the bellowing having broken you from your petrified state.

Your heart raced in your chest, the once-chilling needles of ice that pricked your skin now the least of your worries. Your heavy sack smacked against your back, but you could hardly feel the growing bruise, fear and the need to escape consuming your thoughts.

You ran and continued to run, believing any stumble or trip could leave you maimed like the two victims ever recovered from the mountains. The images of the maimed face, missing limbs, and brutal displays filled your head, only pushing your weak legs further.

However, no matter how fast you sprinted, you felt terribly slow.

The fog seemed to close around you, seeking to entrap you in its chilling haze, but you pressed on. Kicking your leg out and down, leg out and down, leg out and down. Each step felt like plunging your feet into cold quicksand, icy hands tugging you down, making it seem like you had hardly made any progress at all.

The wind grew louder, more chaotic, seeking to match your panicked state. It whipped, turned, and tore about, shouting in pained shrieks.

You couldn't hear him, didn't want to see him, but you knew he was there—charging behind you like a bull, the blizzard just a mere breeze to him, oh, you were certain.

Your heart raced, compelling you to go, get farther, move, despite how hard or quickly you appeared to be going; you were sure he was right behind you.

A thunderous sound from in front of you made you come to a halt. Wide-eyed, you looked through the mist, trying to find the source, believing it to be him.

‘No, no, no, what is happening!?’ you thought in a panic, stepping back on unsteady feet. ‘He can’t be here, not that quickly, not that—’ Your heart dropped, all the blood draining from your body like life escaping a man's eyes.

You felt the ground tremble beneath you, shaking as though something massive was coming—something big.

Before you could react, a wave of snow parted the thick fog, coming right at you. Your heart dropped as you watched the avalanche of snow surge violently, sweeping you off your feet in seconds and engulfing you in a torrent of white.

Like an unforgiving wave, you were tossed about haphazardly, the world becoming a chaotic blur of freezing snow.

Desperation overwhelmed your senses, but the storm’s ferocity and the avalanche’s cruel force left you feeling little hope.

The blizzard, the beast, and now the avalanche left you in a nightmare that you were sure would end in only one way…

‘I can’t die here.’

‘I can’t.’

Was the only thought that surfaced—a chant echoing throughout your mind until your entire world faded into darkness.

A/N: Terrible way to leave it off, I know lol, but it's Vicetober—the anticipation is supposed to be torture. I hope you all enjoyed the first part of The Beast Within! I also tried a new look for my story while participating in this mini event with my older sis, @powerful-niya, so let me know if you like it!

If you're hyped for this event and can't bear another moment to get your paws on the next part of The Beast Within, be sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow!

Hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe!

🐻Click here for the finale:

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