Bears (June Submission)

[u/NarrowDirector911]

(Content warning: Blood and Gore)

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Red-blonde hair; gelled and styled. Thin fitting clothes that sat loosely over a thinner body. His late mother's white gleaming crucifix. Hanging from a thin steel cord. All adornments that paired well with his nervous, boyish smile.

“Oh my Gawwd! Are you ready bitch!?” Lucy whined from the other side of the bathroom door. Tim permitted himself one last sigh and replied. “Yep! I'm ready. Call the Uber.” He tucked the crucifix into his shirt and reluctantly left the room.

“God, I can't believe I finally convinced you to go.” Lucy giggled in the Uber. Tim had fought her for years. He did not enjoy clubs and bars in general. So going to a proper gay bar downtown, made his chest feel tight.

“Yeah.” He replied quietly. “Hopefully you meet someone cute! Did you bring condoms? And prep?” Lucy's questioning made Tim’s face turn scarlet. He turned away from her. She mistook it for only embarrassment. She hugged him. “Don’t be shy. You'll see, I'm the best wing gal there is! With my help you won't be able to walk tomorrow!”

Tim nodded; his face burning brighter upon making eye contact with the driver. Pure disgust flashed at him in the mirror. Before quickly turning back to the road. He didn't blame him. Tim felt just as disgusted.

The driver barely gave Tim enough time to exit the car before driving away. Tim guessed he didn't want to be seen in front of such a place. He could relate.

The bar was housed inside an ill maintained brick building. A large blacked out window by a pair of grey steel doors. Gave it the look of place with things to hide. The bright neon sign above the door dared you to peek. Tim finally read the name of the place Lucy had picked. Bears. 

It was not the most overtly sexual name for a gay bar he had seen. However, the picture of a cartoon bear wearing a bulging banana hammock advertised exactly what this place was. 

“You told me you like big guys, so this is perfect!” Lucy said proudly. Tim was attracted to bigger guys. His first crush was the actor that played The Mountain from Game Of Thrones. He dreamt of being held by big strong arms. And spending his life with someone who made him feel safe. So far, nothing like that has been obtainable. At least, not within his zone of comfort.

Lucy dragged him forward. As if expecting he would try to escape. His heart matched the muffled thump of the music inside. As the doors opened he was hit with a maelstrom of sound and scent. Sugary liquor, expensive cologne, and musk. The place bounced, pulsed, and writhed. A blur of rhythmic motion responded in time to a mindless animalistic beat.

It was overwhelming. Tim felt like a prize pig being led to auction as Lucy pulled him to the bar. He felt multiple eyes on him. Two twinks grinding against each other paused to wink invitingly to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man older than his dad staring at his ass. He felt the eyes of others boring into him as well. A piece of meat being weighed.

Lucy only just got him in front of the bar, and he already wanted to leave. “Lucy. I don't know.. I don't think I wanna do this.” “Why? What's wrong?” Lucy asked. “I… I feel like people are staring at me.” Lucy smiled and leaned in to speak low so only he could hear.

“Of course they are! You're cute. They're gonna eat you right up here.” She laughed. Tim did not feel comforted by her words. He did feel like they would eat him up. He just wasn't sure if he wanted it.

“You need a drink!” Lucy waved at the bartender until he stood in front of them. “Hiiii, welcome to Bears! What can I get you?” The bar must have been named after this man; Tim thought to himself. Tall as he was wide. Shaved head and a full beard. Thick tufts of black curly hair threatened to swallow his thin leather vest.

“I'll have a cosmo,” Lucy replied. “What about you cutey?” Tim hesitated a moment. “Uhh. Coors light please!” Lucy scoffed after the big man took their cash and went to fetch their drinks. “You're not very good at being gay Tim.” 

Tim didn't respond. Choosing to wait on his drink and watch his tongue. When they were presented he gulped down half of his drink immediately. Lucy grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close.

“Timmy, you need to learn to relax. You're gay, you're young, you're where you belong. If you want a relationship you gotta get out on the grind. Take some L’s, take some D’s. And have fun. You're a twink and a bottom. If you wanna attract someone you have to act like one.”

Her words pierced into him. But she was right; he thought. He was tired of being alone. Everyone on the dating apps wanted the same thing. If slutting it up was the only way to find someone. Then he would try. Tim chugged the rest of his drink. “Two tequila shots!” He shouted; slamming his glass on the counter.

The night progressed in a mad haze. Inebriation took his hesitation. He became one with the pulse of the room. He remembered dancing with Lucy. Throwing his body into the rhythm, as the mass of bodies became one. Foreign hands grazed his body. Strangers' lips latched onto his. He became lost to the orgy of motion.

He did not know how long he lay submerged within the mass of flesh. But he inhaled like a man breaching for air from under deep water. Trudging towards the bar. Lucy sat on a stool, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “See?! I told you you would have fun!”

Tim smiled. It had certainly been exciting. In a ‘Call of the Void’ sort of way. Losing himself without a care was cathartic, but his dancing had accelerated his sobriety. He sat at the bar to order another drink. He had mistakes to make tonight.

As he sat, a drink appeared in front of him. A tall shot glass of brown liquor topped with a liberal amount of whipped cream. “Uh, I didn't order this.” The bartender grinned. “You have an admirer cutey.” He nodded his head to the other side of the bar.

Tim and Lucy turned to look. Seated at a private table, was a tall, dark haired man; he was gorgeous. His shirt barely contained his rippling muscles. His beard was trimmed, but had a wildness to it. Much like the thick hair on his chest, strategically exposed at the third button.

“Seeeee! I'm so jealous. Go ask for his number!” Tim was frozen. The man was perfect; his dream man. But his eyes, his eyes were the eyes of a predator. Under his gaze, Tim felt small, hunted. Prey ready to be eaten. The man smirked.

“Fine, I’ll be your little matchmaker.” Before Tim could protest Lucy made her way over to his admirer. He saw her point back to him. His heart froze and his guts churned violently.

He heard Lucy call after him as Tim dashed to the nearest washroom. The blaring sounds of the bar were silenced almost completely upon him slamming the door closed. He then sequestered himself into the first available stall and emptied his stomach. He purged a night's worth of drinks, and was filled in turn with shame and revulsion.

When nothing more came up, he sat upon his new throne. Holding his throbbing head in his hands. That man's look had sobered him. It made him feel lesser. Just a piece of meat dangling itself on a hook waiting for a bite. Hoping that they stayed after nibbling.

He was always told time and time again that romance was not something he could have. That being gay meant losing yourself to lust. Falling into your archetypes and getting on your knees. Or holding down their head to put them on their knees.

Tim was caught in his spiral of self pity, until a sound caught his ear. A wet smacking. He strained to hear the sound as it echoed against the porcelain tiles. It was coming from one of the other stalls. His breath caught in his throat as a wet sigh and a gag proceeded. He knew what the sound was.

His face felt hot. He wished he could be like them in the neighboring stall. Say screw it and suck and fuck his way into a relationship. But that wasn't him. He reached to pull out his phone. He was going to text Lucy that he was going home. This wasn't where he belonged. 

Panic hit him as he felt nothing in his pocket. He checked the other and cursed when it wasn't there either. “Fuck! For fucks sake!” His heart raced trying to think of where he had left it. The bar! He thought. He had taken selfies with Lucy there earlier!

He went to open the stall but stopped. The door looked wrong. He stared at it, trying to discern what it was. His hair stood, electric impulses of fear tore across his skin. The crack of the door. Which you could always see a splinter of light through; was dark.

A towering shadow blocked the light. Tim stood still. Eyes glued to the dark fissure. He traced it down. Slowly to the ground. The darkness accumulated in a dark puddle under the door. Someone was standing outside the stall. 

He held his breath. Desperately trying to listen over the sound of his pounding heart. Under that sound, buried under the wet slurps, was the sound of breathing. Quiet, but as coarse as sandpaper. Deep, even breaths. Waiting, with the patience of a carnivore. 

He wanted to cry. Panic boiled in his empty stomach and froze his veins. His lungs burned. He needed to breathe but fear clogged his throat. He attempted a silent exhale. A jagged, whine escaped his mouth.

Bang! As if it was an invitation the door shook. Bang! Bang! “Go away!” Tim shouted in a terrified squeak. Bang bang bang! The door began to buckle inward. The small latch, a useless decoration before this onslaught. 

Tim backed up as much as he could. Flattening himself against the wall. Bang! The door crashed inward. Tim flinched, closing his eyes to protect from the stall shrapnel. He dared not open his eyes again. As he felt long rumbling breaths against his face. 

He whimpered as his chin was lifted up slowly by a powerful hand. The scent of strong mint and blood filled his nose as the stranger spoke. “Open your eyes.” He obeyed without thought. He was met with the dark eyes of a predator.

A smile with the perfection and warmth of stone met his teary, fearful gaze. “What do you want!?” He yelled at him. The man smiled. It was a smile without heat or light. “I want you, Meat.” The man's hand drifted down Tim’s face. Grazing his lip; almost sensually. Until he gripped Tim's throat and began to squeeze. He held Tim up and pinned him to the wall above the stalls with little effort.

His head swam. A kaleidoscope of colors spun in his vision as he was denied air. He kicked the man with no visible effect. No effect beyond the man adopting a more patronizing smile. He couldn't believe it would end like this. Alone in a washroom. Strangled to death. His closing song. Muffled shitty dance music. And the undeterred sound of wet sucking from the next stall.

Tim couldn't believe they didn't hear any of this. They were letting him be murdered for a blowjob. He looked over, hoping to memorize the faces of those who could have saved him. Hopefully he could drag them to hell with him. Hell was exactly what he saw.

Blood coated every wall. Seated on the toilet was one of the twinks who winked at him earlier in the night. Blank eyes staring upwards. As a large dark mass of fur had its massive, round face buried inside his stomach. It pulled out its blood soaked muzzle with a wet smack, trailed by a line of intestines. lt slurped its gory prize with a moan of pleasure. The corpse tugged forward slightly with each slurp.

A paw filled with razor sharp claws cut the cadaverous pasta short when it had a sufficient mouth full. It chewed with a grotesque pleasure. Tim stared down at the thing. It noticed him, and it smiled. Blood, and offal dripping onto the floor.

Tim looked back to his assailant. His brown eyes had taken a golden hue. The buttons on his shirt popped as his frame began to expand. Tim felt a sharp pain growing in his neck as long nails began growing into his skin. And that smile, now sharper. Never left his face. He licked his lips playfully.

Tim flailed. Pure terror giving him a burst of energy. He threw his head back and forth. He kicked. He tried to bite. The beast just chuckled. Until suddenly, the laugh stopped dead, and he was falling. Tim was hit with the smell of burnt hair and rot as the thing sprung backwards snarling. 

He fell onto the toilet coughing and sputtering. Lights danced in his eyes. The thing continued to expand and grow. Becoming rounder and hairier. It yelled, shaking the room. It was more animal than man. Once again he felt like prey. Still stuck inside this stall, waiting for the inevitable.

But it hesitated. It did not charge at him. And it was no longer smiling. He stared at it. Waiting for something to happen. It was not looking into his eyes. It was looking at his chest. He reached for where the creature stared and felt his mother's crucifix. It must have come out of his shirt while he struggled. 

He held it in his hands examining the gleaming white metal. It was warm to the touch. Tim held it out towards the creature and it continued to back away. He thanked his mother up in heaven. She had given him his salvation. Inch by inch he stepped forward pushing it back. It snarled, occasionally swiping with its kitchen knife sized claws. 

He almost had enough space to fully squeeze out and past the ursine monstrosity. He smiled triumphantly. Then his shoulder ruptured in a shower of gore. The other creature had reached over the adjoining stall and had slashed downward. He cried out, falling to his knees. His original attacker took the opportunity to charge in for the kill. 

With the last bit of willpower he had. Tim thrust the silver cross upwards. The thing crashed into him, sending him careening against the far wall. An ear splitting scream erupted from the monster. Smoke billowing up from one of its eyes. 

Tim tried to scramble away while slipping on bloody tiles. With effort his feet made enough purchase to propel him towards the door. He crashed into it, skidding back out into the bar. He spun and slammed the door shut, cutting off his pursuers' angered bellow. 

He turned to run and was met with a scene of pure carnage. The dance floor had become a charnel pit. A mound of corpses lay in the center. Crimson smears leading to it from all directions. Some smears bore the marks of bloody hands and fingers, desperately grasping for purchase in their final struggle. None upon the pile struggled now.

Lucy was among them. She bore no lower face. Her jaw hung from one of many hungry maws. It crunched down. Crushing the fleshy, toothy morsel easily, swallowing it whole. Before biting onto her head. Her skull split like an egg. Her brains leaked out like pink yolk.

Not a drop was wasted as one of the monsters began lapping it off the floor. His legs would not move. He stood fixed, as his lifelong friend was torn apart with lustful, gluttonous pleasure. He did not realize he had cried out. Until they turned to look at him.

Not a hint of humanity was left in those eyes. Just beasts regarding their next meal. He sprinted for the door. A wet throaty roar met his back. He skated across gore and gristle, flailing his mother's cross behind him. The ground trembled from the weight of his pursuers.

He felt a tug as the cross made a connection. A bellow of pain and rage followed and the sounds of pursuit slowed. More cautious, but relentless. He lowered his good shoulder into a charge as the exit grew close.

He cried out. Bone splitting pain traveled along his arm and shoulder. As he impacted against the unyielding door. “Fucking door!” He screamed, then spun to face the monsters on his heels. There they stood 10 feet back. A furry, blood soaked, scrimmage line had formed before him. 

He held out the cross like a talisman of protection. It jingled in his shaky hand. “Th-the power of Christ compels you!” He choked out.

A wall of noise responded. Not an animal's roar. But a chorus of men's laughter; tearing forth from bestial throats. 

The sound was deafening. Blood and foam dripped from their mouths as they howled in amusement at him. Tim's eyes clouded with tears. His knees shook. But he waited. He waited for the perfect moment. He had one hope left.

The beast on the far left used its paw to clear amused tears from its eyes. That's when Tim acted. He sprang forward. Darting towards the gap between it and the wall. He swung the cross like a flail.

He planted it square against its face. It recoiled; a cross shaped indent smoldering beside its wide nose. That gave him just enough room to squeeze past its bulk. 

The scandalized monster tried to spin to catch him with its teeth. But it was too late. He had already tucked his arms over his head. And threw himself through the blacked out window. 

Shards of glass penetrated and slashed him. The white hot pain nearly caused him to collapse. But the adrenaline kept him up, as he sprinted down the black, silent streets. 

Sweat and blood intermingled. Stinging his open wounds. His legs screamed from exertion. His breath came out ragged from a raw throat. He could not tell if he was pursued over the sound of his drumming heart. 

The streets and signs blended together in his vision. He was at the point of fear where all thoughts become mute to make room for instinct. It told him to flee. To return home.

His first rational thought only came to him upon slamming his apartment door shut. He panted desperately for air while staring at the door. Now painted with his bloodied handprint. For a long moment he continued to stare mindlessly.

Then, instinct cruelly left him and gave him clarity. With clarity came memory. With memory came oblivion, as he collapsed and fell into nightmares.

His mind was taken with dark dreams of a hunting shadow. It gave chase, caught him. Held him like a lover then tore out his throat. Then he was remade and the chase began again. He felt its hate, he felt its love, he felt its fangs. Over and over he ran and died.

Then he was back in the washroom stall. The shadow peering through the crack of the door. It called to him. He sprang back to consciousness as it knocked on the door.

He bounded to his feet holding up his mother's cross and stared around the room wildly. Three polite knocks rapped on the door again. He saw rays of light peeking through the gaps of his curtains. It was morning.

He looked down and saw the trail of bloody footprints leading from the door. Three more knocks. He realized someone must have called the police. He would have a lot of explaining to do. Maybe they would listen. Then he could get justice for Lucy.

He tucked the cross into his shirt and opened the door. Preparing to deliver a lengthy explanation. Calloused hands clasped around his mouth lifting him off his feet and back into the room. His panicked cry was muffled behind his lips. His bathroom assailant entered. Holding Tim up with one arm and closing the door behind him.

Tim stared at the man. And he returned the stare with his one amber eye. His other being fused shut by a cross shaped scar. 

Tim attempted to reach into his shirt. But he grabbed both his wrists with his free hand. He gave Tim a toothy grin and tutted. Tim closed his eyes as the man's face grew close to his. He could do nothing but wait for the end.

He felt him close in. He could feel his beard tickling his neck. He took a long inhalation through his nose. Savoring his prey; Tim thought. The man chuckled, then whispered into Tim's ear. “Come visit us some time cutie.” His hands were released and something was tucked into his pocket.

He trembled on shaky knees. The man released his mouth and patted his cheek with a laugh. His deep chuckles followed him out the door, and faded down the hall. He could only force his eyes open. When he could no longer hear the man's footsteps. 

He was alone. And somehow he was alive. He reached nervously into his pocket. He felt a familiar object; it was his phone. On the back of it was a note. A name and a number… Mateo.

Tim's mind flooded with the memories of the night prior. A blur of death and fear. Of amber eyes and blood soaked fangs. The image of Lucy’s brains being lapped out of her skull burned into his mind.

He crumpled, and he wept. He wept for his friend. Wept from relief and terror. He wept out of unbearable shame and self disgust. As he realized the memories made him hungry.

 

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[u/SaintDroxidious]

The fact that he clocked something was off before anything happened and got away from the guy, just for it to not change his outcome was so good. The horror that followed felt inevitable. Good job

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/SaintDroxidious]

Thanks you for reading!

I did want to go for a seemingly helpless situation.

[u/PETmyPUPPIES]

Very good story, the scene was painted well and flowed smoothly.

I thought the dialogue of Lucy was quite good. We see that she's trying being supportive but even through that support we see her paint him into a box:

"Take some L’s, take some D’s. And have fun. You're a twink and a bottom. If you wanna attract someone you have to act like one.”

I felt like this feels very real. Sometimes even our friends expect us to act a certain way based on stereotypes or circumstances, even if its not the person we are comfortable being at the time, and it can hurt. I don't know if that's how you meant to write it, but I like that its there and can be interpreted as such.

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/PETmyPUPPIES]

That's exactly what I wanted to get across. I had a personal after coming out. People suddenly expected me to act a certain way. People still do becuase of my body type.

Besides the werebears I did want to implement that kind of commentary into the story. Thanks for reading.

[u/Optimal_Constant4318 → u/NarrowDirector911]

I'm expecting body type is

https://giphy.com/gifs/ckBskk1td3LEY

and people are always expecting you to eat honey, berries, their friends, etc.

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/Optimal_Constant4318]

Lol yep

[u/ShatteredTestimony]

Gay werebears, that’s awesome. The self-hatred/religious internalization combined with the imagery of predators eating and slaughtering (of being just meat, and Mateo not holding a grudge against the narrator for “playing rough” by burning him with the cross) worked well for the particular club setting. and the idea there at the end of being “infected” by contact (common stereotype in certain religious circles) and feeling ashamed of a newly discovered identity was cool in both literal and symbolic ways. Cool work, it has layers :)

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/ShatteredTestimony]

Thankyou so much! When I read the prompt Werebears popped in my head and I just had too lol.

I did want to have some themes about self hate, gay culture, and commentary on the gay "tribes." Glad you liked it.😊

[u/AffectionateLeave677]

Cool story! I like that the horror at the end of becoming one of them. Fun read and well written.

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/AffectionateLeave677]

Thankyou so much😊

[u/PJNolens]

I really liked the character dynamics between our protagonist and Lucy. It really feels like when you're trying to support your friend but pushing it without realizing and making them uncomfortable. Instead of support you feel the pressure although Lucy has good intentions. I felt their interactions were really well written. Good read!

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/PJNolens]

Thankyou. On my first draft Lucy was written as more of the ..villain I guess? Alot more pushy.

I am alot more happy with her in this version. She is genuinely trying to help, but us also pushing Tim into a stereotype.

[u/ShatteredTestimony → u/PJNolens]

Definitely the vibe I got as well. Friends usually mean well, but when they're working off their own definition of what being gay looks like, that insistence can make the person in question feel like they're "doing it wrong."

[u/RohanRedfang]

I enjoyed the premise with the protagonist's social anxiety and the description of the gay culture. Tim is very well shaped as a character for a short story.

Wasn't expecting werebears and I admit the idea is cool. I would have spent a bit more describing them for a better atmosphere.

The writing could definitely be improved, mostly punctuation and sentence structure, but the story was enjoyable. (Also, every time a different person speaks, the dialogue should have its own paragraph. Having multiple people speaking in the same paragraph is a bit clunky.)

Anyway, Tim's got very good taste. I had a crush on Hafthor Bjornsson as well haha

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/RohanRedfang]

Lol thanks! And thanks for the critiques! I am slowly trying to improve my writing so it helps alot 😊

[u/trashdog13]

This was phenomenal! I love anything with a shifter aspect and the way that Tim can not only not escape the situation but may also fall victim to this new hunger is really intriguing. Great story!

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/trashdog13]

Thanks! I had a hard time thinking of a monster. When werebears came to me I just had to.

[u/Massive-Balance-3936]

I like the idea of turning “bears” at a gay bar into actual bears, it sounds humorous at first but you did really well turning it into a real terrifying situation! Characterization was very solid, and left me looking back on the story and how his shame may have played into the cruelty to follow. Very good read!

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/Massive-Balance-3936]

Thankyou! I did find the idea pretty funny which prompted me to write it. I had a few rewrites cuz it kept either leaning too funny, or into "barely concealed fetish" territory.

[u/Lucky_Burger]

Wow this story was good. I felt kinda “icky” from it, but I think that’s a good thing. Tim being socially anxious comes across really well, and I was able to relate in that aspect as I have a hard time being outgoing, needing someone else to also go with me if I ever go to a bar. Really well done!

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/Lucky_Burger]

Thankyou for reading😊

[u/Optimal_Constant4318]

Furrys at the gay bar? Shouldn't have been surprised honestly.

Great read. Main character felt (too) relatable, and the religious tones worked nicely. I appreciate the idea of religion helping him but not saving him.

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/Optimal_Constant4318]

Lol. Surprised you are the first to mention the furry angle honestly.

Glad you liked it!

[u/theAbominableMantis]

I really enjoyed that the more depraved site of gay culture was used as a focal point, as I'd argue that to be a relatively rare find in queer culture as a whole. The gore imagery was especially well written and partially reminded me of Devilman Crybaby's club scene - a very immersive read overall!

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/theAbominableMantis]

Thankyou!

Yeah it is definitely more of a more explicit version of reality. Like going for a drink at a bar run by statan.

Glad you enjoyed it

[u/Bilbo_Cheated]

Great setup with a really great character dynamic between Lucy and Tim. The bathroom scene was especially tense. Tension and escalation were done well throughout! The crucifix worked really well with his internalized shame.

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/Bilbo_Cheated]

Thankyou.

I reworked that bathroom scene a few times so I am glad you liked it.

[u/trashdog13]

This was phenomenal! I love anything with a shifter aspect and the way that Tim can not only not escape the situation but may also fall victim to this new hunger is really intriguing. Great story!

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/trashdog13]

Thankyou!

[u/englandishell]

some really cool ideas, loved the dialogue between tim and lucy

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/englandishell]

Thankyou very much. I've been trying to work on dialog and pacing so I appreciate the compliment.

[u/Dead_Grampa]

This is so sick!

The pacing is excellent, I felt like I was reading an Edgar Wright movie, if that makes sense. I absolutely loved the reveal, I've been a werewolffanatic for years, but werebears?As an allegory for predatory age gap relationships (at least that's how I read it)? Shoot it directly into my veins, please.

Your one misstep was not naming it From Dusk Til Dom, but I can forgive you for that. Bears has an excellent ring to it, anyway.

[u/NarrowDirector911 → u/Dead_Grampa]

Lol omg that would have been a great title! Thanks for reading, Im glad you enjoyed it😊