Chapter Text
Neither of them could have possibly known that this was their last night being human.
The chill of the evening air nipped at the back of Matthew Bellamy's neck as he sat just outside the rear entrance to the pub, which was casting a gentle yellow glow out over the dewey grass. The night sky had only a few scattered stars, as well as one large sickly looking moon, with the rest being hidden by clouds and the light pollution of the surrounding area. At the entrance to the gloomy woods beyond, two rabbits jumped playfully around in the thick of the grass, scampering back and forth without a care in the world.
The warm bustle of the building behind was muted by the closed backdoor; occasionally it would creak open an inch in the light breeze and the cacophony of noises inside would cut through the peaceful quiet. Birds chattered away in the nearby foliage as it swayed, leaves rustling gently.
"See, this is the perfect night to take some shrooms, get high and just forget about everything." The voice came from the drummer, Dominic Howard, sitting next to him, soft but laced with the ever-present sarcastic tone he'd grown fond of. Matt turned his head to look at him, the floppy blonde hair framing those murky grey eyes, which sat underneath a slightly furrowed brow. Watched the way his mouth turned up slightly at one corner mischievously, as if he was enjoying a private joke at someone else's expense. At the leather jacket he always seemed to wear that was ever so slightly too tight on him and the sunglasses perched upon his head despite the fading daylight.
"Maybe. I don't want a repeat of last time though, Dom," Matt grumbled, but failed to keep the smirk off his face. The blond looked into the singer's vivid blue irises, at his dark eyebrows and partially gelled up black hair, the remaining of which hung floppily on his forehead. The cheekbones that looked like they could cut steel and a killer jawbone to match. The sweet misshapen nose that mildly resembled a small garlic and lips that were always upturned, giving him a permanently happy demeanour. He wore a simple white t-shirt with a couple of slight rips and tears, an unzipped black jacket that hugged his small frame and a similar pair of sunglasses to Dom's. His long fingers fiddled absentmindedly, so used to moving with ease across a guitar fretboard that they were almost never still.
"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad."
"You successfully convinced me that my cat was the baby Jesus and that I had to lick its toes for three hours to be rid of my sins," the guitarist moaned with an accompanying eyeroll, shuddering at the intrusive memory that had attacked his subconscious.
"But you're so funny when you're high. I just have to mess with you," the drummer chortled, his mouth turning up into an even more cheeky grin. Matt gave him a light punch on the shoulder, chuckling with exasperation.
"Give them here. Promise me you won't make me lick any toes tonight?" the guitarist cautioned with a raised brow. Dom stifled a laugh and dug around in his pockets, producing a small and overly used bag of thin brown mushrooms. Grabbing a couple of stems, he shoved them into his mouth, gaining a disapproving look from Matt at his lack of table manners. But, as he snatched the bag and stared at the goodies within, he couldn't help but to gobble them up too.
"You never know what could happen tonight, Bells," the blond mused through a mouthful of the fungi. The frontman turned to him, also munching on the mushrooms and frowned at his surprisingly serious expression.
"What do you mean? Oh god, you've already planned out a trick you're going to play on me, haven't you?" Dom snorted and rolled his eyes at Matt's fear-filled face.
"No. I just mean it's a full moon tonight. It's said to make people go mad. Could give us a pretty interesting trip."
"Oh Lord, you believe in that stuff? I thought I was meant to be the band's token crazy conspiracy theorist?" the singer muttered and glanced up at the moon dubiously. He heard muffled laughter next to him and realised that the drummer was joking, far too late to save any remnants of his ego from getting crushed.
"No, you knobsworth. I'm messing with you."
***
Matt stared at what used to be the conifers behind the pub. Illuminated from above in a slightly eerie white and blue light, they now resembled long snakes, pointing straight upwards towards the sky and subtly writhing. Shaking his head, he blinked a few times and tried to refocus his eyes but nothing changed, the horror show before him continuing. Dom had gone to the toilet about fifteen minutes ago and the guitarist snorted at the idea of him hallucinating the toilet having teeth, or something even worse. He deserved payback after their last trip.
Looking up at the moon again, he watched as the darker spots of it morphed until they became two cavernous empty eye-sockets and what seemed to resemble a mouth, smiling creepily back at him and presenting an uncanny resemblance to Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Shuddering, he ran his shaky hands through his hair nervously and closed his eyes, feeling like this was going to be a particularly bad trip; it was never good to start seeing demonic faces. What was taking Dom so long?
A noise, out of place in a way that Matt could not quite comprehend, startled him, causing his eyes to fly open again almost immediately. Seemingly as if the entire forest had had the same reaction, the bird calls and scuttling of its creatures ceased and a deathly silence fell over his surroundings. Nothing dared move.
Listening carefully, he realised that it appeared to have come from somewhere within the woods and he scanned the dark spaces between the trees with intent, trying to ignore the squirming monstrosities before him. The only other noises he could hear now were the monotonous faint chatter of people inside the pub and the light rustle of the wind through some nearby bushes. This noise, which nagged at the inquisitive section of his brain, had been different though - more of an animalistic sound, but like no animal he could think of.
Without a second thought, he stood up. Curiosity had always been a weakness of his but he couldn't help himself - his mind was already thinking of a million different outlandish explanations for the sound. He walked silently, almost like a zombie, towards the snake-like trees and chewed his bottom lip in both fear and anticipation. Digging into his pocket, he brought out his Nokia N95 and turned the screen up to its maximum brightness, illuminating a small section of the almost suffocating darkness beyond. A few more stray rabbits that looked strangely like bananas with legs hopped hastily away from the beam of light and he could see bright rainbow-coloured trails leading away from them. Being high seemed to make things either scary or cute and it really was a toss up as to which one he'd get.
The crunch of the leaves below his feet sounded too loud against the cold dead quiet of the forest as he ventured into it, feeling like the large trees were coaxing him in, ready to swallow him whole. He was starting to believe the sound he had heard before had just been a figment of his currently warped imagination and a consequence of what was turning out to be one of his more unusual trips. But another slightly more instinctual part of him was telling him that it was real and could have been caused by something very large and dangerous.
A chill came over him suddenly and he had a strong overwhelming gut feeling of needing to retreat to the warmth and safety of the pub. From this distance, he couldn't see any lights or hear any other sounds coming from it, almost as if he'd stepped into a wormhole and been transported to another dimension. In fact, there were no lights coming from anywhere in sight apart from the weak glow issuing from his phone's small screen. He realised, in a second of sheer panic, that he was lost. The conifers, still moving as if alive due to his mushroom-filled mind, looked the same in every direction.
Then he heard it. A growl that started off low and quiet at first, but began to crescendo into a spine-tingling snarl. The same sound he had heard that had led him to the woods in the first place, but a hundred times more terrifying at this close proximity. Without even checking to see what had produced it, he clumsily switched his phone off and began to run, a screech of terror involuntarily exiting his airways in the process.
***
Dom went to flush the toilet but recoiled immediately at what was supposed to be the flushing mechanism. His drugged up mind had replaced it with a large black millipede, bigger than his hand, which squirmed slightly as he watched. Deciding against touching it and mentally apologising to the next person to use it, he left the graffiti-covered cubicle groggily and turned on the stiff and squeaky tap, catching a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror at the same time as hearing the pipes begin to groan and immediately wishing he hadn't.
His skin was slowly melting off his face, leaving hollow dead bone, the colour of alabaster. A pink and fleshy worm, too big and disgusting to be natural, crawled out of his now empty left eye-socket and threw itself at the mirror, making him jump but, thankfully, causing his face to revert back to normal. Maybe it was best if he stopped doing shrooms.
As he exited the bathroom, the throng of slightly distorted but happy people seemed painfully overbearing, the abundance of noise making his head spin. Some of them were too drunk to really know what was going on and others laughed at them in their blissful, ignorant state. The warmth of the place was nice though, like it was giving you a hug all the time. But a part of him couldn't wait to go outside again and enjoy tripping with his best friend, the cooling air allowing them to just relax away from everyone else.
And that's what he liked about the frontman - sure, he was intense and very weird but he also felt like home. Talking to him sometimes felt like talking to a thousand people as his breakneck pace and opinions about every conceivable thing on earth were too much for just a single person. But he was also someone that Dom could relax with; he was friendly and chilled out in the right context and, luckily for the blond, that was usually when he was high.
Opening the back door, he looked down at the single stone step, worn down slightly in the middle from years of use and with a small layer of moss atop it. The bag of mushrooms, nearly empty now, lay motionless in the grass just in front of the step alongside a crumpled can of cider sitting on its side, presumably having been knocked over by the wind. Both objects appeared to be glowing and pulsating with a strange green hue but they were where he had remembered leaving them. Matt, however, was missing.
Scanning the surrounding area, he could see no sign of the short, slight figure of the guitarist. Unless he had gone inside? But he had never been the type to leave litter lying around, even if it wasn't his own - it could sometimes get very annoying when they were out and about. Plus, they surely would've bumped into each other while walking through the pub.
He looked towards the eerily silent forest, the trees resembling long thin fingers rising from the dirt, with a pale and sickly complexion. They curled at the tops, due to the slight breeze, and it almost seemed like they were beckoning him closer, daring him to step foot into their depressing depths. Surely Matt couldn't be in there?
An ear splitting scream suddenly issued from the forest and his blood ran cold. He'd know that wailing screech anywhere.
***
Matt's heart was hammering in his chest. Twigs crunched noisily under his shoes as he ran clumsily away from whatever the hell had made the noise that he knew would be embedded into his nightmares for weeks. At this point he didn't care if it was just one of Dom's tricks; he'd get him back in the morning for it. But for now, he was running for his life.
His surroundings were barely visible in the near pitch-black darkness. He could feel the mushrooms slowly starting to wear off and from what he could see the conifers were beginning to resemble their normal shapes once again. The canopy was so thick that the tiny shards of moonlight that did manage to break through the throng of leaves didn't reach the ground. He just had to hope that he was going the right way.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Footsteps. Loud, menacing thuds against the earth behind him. He sped up, heart pounding even more frantically, praying to a god that he didn't believe in that he'd make it out alive, at the very minimum. Whatever was in the woods with him definitely wasn't human, and it sounded bigger than any mammal on Earth. A being beyond his comprehension that he knew absolutely nothing about and, if he was honest, he didn't want to. But he knew one thing.
He was fucking terrified.
And somehow, this fear was about to reach new heights.
Something huge landed on him from behind, knocking him violently to the ground. His hands caught his fall just in time, stopping his fear-ridden face from smacking straight into the earth. He screamed and desperately attempted to scramble to his feet, but he was pinned down by what felt like a completely immovable object. Panic overtook his mind and his breathing quickened, desperate tears streaming down his face and falling onto the damp leaves below. The smell of the wetness of the earth was close to being completely overbearing to his adrenaline heightened senses and he wondered if this was where he was going to die.
In one swift motion, he was flipped around to face his assailant. The huge beast that stared menacingly back at him made his breath hitch in his throat and his heart thump uncomfortably erratically in his chest. Yellow glowing eyes. Canines that were closer in size to small daggers. A large wet nose, quite like that of a dog. Pointy ears. Thick brown fur covering every patch of its grotesquely muscular but strangely humanoid body. A line of drool hanging from the side of its mouth, shaking with every pant that issued from the great creature's lungs.
Immediately it raised what looked like a massive wolf's paw and a shard of moonlight briefly reflected off of five oversized black claws. The singer tried to scream again but the sound was stuck in his throat, almost as if the thing had already ripped out his vocal chords. Time stood still for a moment, and he wondered darkly what song Dom would pick for his funeral.
Without another second's hesitation the creature brought its taloned paw down on him, ripping through his already torn shirt and into the soft flesh of his chest.
***
"MATT?!" Dom screamed, running as fast as he could through the odd-looking forest. His breathing was fast and shallow, fear for his best friend fueling the adrenaline in his veins. The guitarist had a very distinctive voice and that strangled scream had sounded just like something off Showbiz. But where in god's name was he?
Stopping for a brief moment, he looked wildly around, trying to catch a glimpse of even the tiniest movement in the near perfect darkness. It felt like the trees were closing in on him on all sides, the eeriness and intense silence almost becoming too much to bear. He could just make out the outlines of the conifers nearest to him, but nothing more.
Turning back the way he came, he felt the hairs on his neck rise up in an instinctual warning. Something - his mind didn't care if it was a friend or foe - was behind him. Closing his eyes in the hope that whatever was there would not be able to see him if he kept still, he forced himself to stop shaking and concentrated on listening for a single sound. A slight breeze passed over his head and he felt his hair move slightly, sending a chill down his spine.
"I'm sorry I have to do this," a low drawl cut through the silence, a whisper that caressed his left ear like the touch of delicate fingers. He jumped instinctually and his feet immediately sprang into action, but before he could move even a single inch in any direction, strong arms encased his torso quickly like a vice. Trying to scream for help but failing miserably out of terror, he squirmed and pleaded desperately with incoherent mumbles to whoever - or whatever - was holding him captive.
Then it bit down on his neck.
***
The pain hit Matt like a ton of bricks. He glanced down in horror at the thick gashes running the length of his chest, blood spurting out at a worrying pace, and screamed louder than he'd thought had ever been possible. The creature narrowed its eyes, a deep and chilling growl emanating from between its yellow bared teeth. It raised the huge paw again, ready to bring its frightening talons down across his shredded skin a second time, ending him for good.
Suddenly, a different sounding snarl from somewhere nearby startled both himself and the creature, buying him a few extra precious seconds of life. The beast paused for a moment, pointy ears pricked up, snout sniffing the air intently.
It growled angrily in the general direction of the noise, jumping off of him in the process. He lay in shock, petrified and unmoving as he felt the creature lift its weight from him and bound off to his right. Relief flooded through him momentarily, although for a horrifying second it turned towards him again and just stared, eyes narrowed permanently. But then, an internal conflict in its head reaching its conclusion, it was off, running through the trees effortlessly on all fours, a massive dark hulk of pure muscle and fur.
The singer hastily scrambled to his feet and half-ran, half-crawled in what he thought - and hoped - was the opposite direction to the beast. His breathing was fast and heavy and he winced with each inhale, the scratches across his chest causing him an immeasurable amount of pain. He was close to crying out multiple times but smothered his mouth quickly and desperately with his hand, not wanting to lure the horrible thing towards him again.
To his utmost relief, faint lights were starting to show through the thick of the woods to his left. Zipping his jacket up as the cold of the air began to seep through his body, he stumbled towards it as fast as he could, trying his best to ignore the searing pain in his chest. That creature had been unlike anything that he'd ever seen before. The way its irises had glowed, the huge talons, the absolute size of the thing - it had seemed sort of...supernatural.
What had scared it off in the first place though?
As he ran, that same question kept turning over and over in his muddled mind, as of now being the only coherent thought bubbling to the surface. Something else had distracted it - something that was definitely in these woods and potentially also very dangerous. And he sure as hell wasn't sticking around to find out what.
***
Dom had felt himself struggle and thrash. Had felt the rumble of the guttural snarl against his neck from his mysterious and unnaturally strong attacker. Had registered it disappearing off to his left in the direction of what sounded like a faint growl.
The world was spinning uncontrollably around him, the forest blurring into a singular dark mass. Everything was silent for a second, the sound of his own intensely thudding heartbeat the only thing to permeate it. Then he watched, paralysed - feeling as if he was a prisoner inside his own body - as the ground rushed up towards him, his face slamming hard into leaves and dirt.
His vision went black.
***
Matt immediately noticed that the drummer wasn't on the step. However, at this point, considering the events that had just unfolded and the fact that he had a good chance of bleeding out to death, he couldn't worry too much about that. He was sure the other man was either relaxing inside or possibly still in the loo, thinking that the urinals were alive. But now, as he stumbled down the street in the vague direction of his home, his upper body still in searing agony, he could've done with some help. After all, they were both staying at his house along with their bassist Chris temporarily until their next gig.
With a sigh of relief, his house began to come into view. The street, lined with carefully trimmed oaks, was lit with the warm glow of evenly spaced street lamps, highlighting the fronts of the houses and the tops of the pricey cars that sat on their driveways. The structure of the large eco home that he had bought a couple of years ago was wooden, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows and balconies on each level. It was set slightly away from the rest of the road, surrounded more closely by the relatively sparse but large forest beyond than the other houses.
Quietly, he opened the front door using the key under the mat - which he thanked his lucky stars that he'd placed there - and locked it behind him, listening for a moment for any more unusual sounds that had the potential to kill him. He thought of driving to the nearest hospital, but considering his condition and the dark spots now floating freely around his vision, he didn't think he was up to the task. And his only other option was Chris, who would be fast asleep by now, having decided to stay in and get an early night after a particularly fun night out yesterday.
He crept up the stairs with his ever light footing and across the dark corridor to the master bedroom, shutting the door silently behind him and collapsing against it for a moment, feeling the exhaustion taking over. In front of him stood his bed, illuminated by the moonlight - a king size that was far too large for his small stature - which took up a good portion of the room, positioned in front of the large window overlooking the back garden and forest beyond. To the left were some wooden drawers and a wardrobe, as well as his bedside table housing a lamp, his minor prescription contact lenses, a digital clock and a glass of water. On the right were various posters and pictures - mainly as mementoes of past gigs they'd played - as well as a floor-to-ceiling standalone mirror and the door to his en suite.
Fumbling about in his pocket and eventually finding purchase on his phone, he shakily tapped out a text to the drummer, telling him very fearfully that he had been 'FUCKING ATTACKED BY A BEAST'. Then he switched over to the dial pad and thumbed out 999.
The full moon shone brightly. Looking up at it for a moment before starting the call and still breathing heavily from the immense terror he had just experienced, yet another strange and agonising sensation came over him. Shuddering and trying not to scream - thankfully his throat was so raw already that he couldn't make a sound - he felt the gashes on his chest burning as if someone had run a lit match over them, his skin too hot to bear. As fast as he could, his mind once again a picture of pure panic, he ripped his jacket and shirt off forcefully, panting and sweating in the process.
The scratches were gone. And with that, his phone fell to the floor and he flopped on to the bed in front of him, his senses fading to nothing.