User:Nextoy/Farside Pub/He Who Hunts Monsters

''Before now, an impression has been given about Farside. That it’s a place for monsters that humans randomly stumble upon. Contrary to this portrayal, there are some regulars to it that are normal humans. Often, these will be bikers who are riding out through the countryside and truckers going through the long haul. Not always, however.''

''Some regulars are just normal people from the nearby towns who want a change of pace. Be it a place that’s more quiet, has better variety, a desire for a more rustic atmosphere, or just a thrill of the unknown. Then again, many of the cityfolk who are regulars there are just looking for something weird.''

However, sometimes, there are those who are simply out to prove a point...

--

It was a quiet night, all things considered. This place is usually bustling. Not in the way most people would think, but filled to the brim with these monsters. The way they can walk, talk, laugh, eat, and make merry with each other.

It’s disgusting.

For three months I’ve been here. Gathering intel and writing reports. So far nobody seems to actually believe me, barring a few stoners and spiritual types. They think my blog is just some roleplay BS. That my pictures are doctored or fakes.

“Why would they be just sitting around a tavern?”

“How haven’t you gotten eaten yet?”

“What’s it like to fuck a spoop?”

These are just a few of my more common questions. Things not even worthy to put in an FAQ, but are added anyways in hopes that it lessens the amount of stupid questions. Spoilers: it never does.

But tonight, I’m proving it for real. Although, I think the barkeep suspects me. That he’s expecting something. Every day, he gives me these odd looks. Looks as if I don’t belong. But I belong. I belong far, far more than these monsters do.

It’s shocking how long I’ve survived here already. This place disgusts me, everything about it. From how normal it all looks to the indifference of the few humans that do show up. Places like this can’t stand.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for opportunity to strike.

Even monsters get drunk. And when they do, some of them go out back to take a piss. Or vomit, whichever. A demihuman, or “furries” as some may call them, stumbled behind the bar into my trap. A simple tripwire, with a net in wait. With that, the first phase practically completed itself.

Getting the monster home was a pain, but having a truck with a hood attachment on the back made it a lot easier. People could always assume it was a dog, given the amount of rustling and lack of visuals. The hard part, however, was getting it into my basement once parked.

The bastard knocked over several things kicking and screaming. Honestly, for a moment it almost sounded human. It almost sounded alive, like it had a soul. Its terrible, really, that such theatrics almost made me put down my guard.

Once properly chained up in my basement however, then it was down to just the fun part.

A grin crept onto my face as I started up the camera, the tripod and livestream properly set. Sure, I had to go deep web for this, but that’s fine. Dark web wouldn’t benefit me, and the standard fare internet platforms wouldn’t allow this kind of content. Still, links and how-to’s for proper security were set up long ahead of time. The only thing left was making sure the camera was filming correctly, able to see both the monster and the mirrors on either side to give the best I could of a full view..

There were several other things I wanted, but this was the one creature I could be assured won’t fuck up me or my equipment. The rest were too big of a risk. Besides, these creatures seemed to be affected by alcohol in a humanesque manner, making them easy to target.

“Rolling…” I whispered softly, smiling into the camera. “It’s time I gave you all proof once and for all. I’m not crazy, and today’s the day where I’ll make you all very aware of it.”

It didn’t take long for people to join the stream. After saying that I did just sit away from view with this camera pointed at the creature, with the typical shitposting asshole comments coming in.

“Nice fursuit,” and the like.

After only a minute I got started, not caring about the viewer count. I would have waited longer, but I was so close to proving my point. Proving to everyone what was real and what wasn’t.

“What shall I do to prove this is, indeed, real?” I asked the audience, twirling a knife in my hand with the creature staying silent the whole time. I’m sure it’s mouthing something, but with those inhuman lips it’s hard to say for sure.

Again, stupid requests came in. Sexual deviants and meme addicts giving pointless requests. The first serious response to come in was easy enough. Pulling at its lips to show the inhuman teeth. This was a good starting request. Light, easy to show that it wasn’t a mask, and harmless. Almost family friendly.

But, they wanted a closer look. Proof it wasn’t a fake. So I took the butt of my knife, which was designed for breaking glass, and beat the thing until a tooth was dislodged. I took the tooth and held it up to the camera, showing that it was very real.

Honestly, this thing’s pain tolerance was incredible. Clearly bleeding from getting that dislodged, yet not even coming close to screaming. Just pained breaths and grunts. In fact, that look of fear and confusion instantly turned into one of hate. Into something honest.

But that’s when I got a message that confused and worried me.

“You have three minutes. Stop this procedure, delete the recording, and shut down the site.”

Who? Who would pity these things? No, I continued.

The next request was when it started to get towards what I actually wanted. When it started to get towards being able to tear these things apart. Someone wanted to see if these things had similar muscles to humans. Weird request, but I abided; slashing open it’s forearm. Honestly, its fur looked beautiful when stained blood red like that.

“Two minutes.”

All I could think was to screech at the invisible person to go away, but I knew better. I kept calm, preparing the meat to show it off. The request was happily met, and I went into my next.

“One minute.”

Then I was told to get a better look at the eyes. Most of my viewers have left by now, with only my true audience remaining. I tried to use the camera’s zoom functions to get a better look, but the damn thing kept moving. Even after a cut across its face, it still kept moving!

So finally, I decided “Screw it, the thing won’t live anyways!”

I flipped my knife around into a reverse grip, ready to pluck out the eyeball when I heard three gunshots. One in my hand, forcing me to drop the knife, one in my back, and the last through my camera. One man was wearing a police uniform, with a woman with him in medical garb.

The man kept me at gunpoint while the woman helped that disgusting abomination. I felt betrayed at this point. Why would they help that thing, but not me? What good is it to protect the apex predator from its natural prey? Is it not our job as men to rid the world of such monstrosities.

Worse yet, these weren’t standard bullets. They’re poisoned, and I can feel it. The official uniforms were for show, these people worked for something else.

And so I write to you, my audience, my final goodbye. Those who wish to fight the good fight, I give you the location of the strongest known concentration of monsters to my knowledge: Farside Pub.

If you do go there, however, keep in mind that the barkeep is not only in league with them, but possibly also an inhuman creature of his own. I could feel it, although I never figured out what he was.

Should I live, I will update you with more info. Otherwise, don’t let my death be in vain.