Mutilated Teddy Bears: Prolouge

Our story begins in a cozy home in California, the Walkers home. This is where the Beast was born. He was a long-legged and lean Doberman, with black and brown fur. His ears were docked soon after birth, resulting in standing ears. The strangest thing that anyone could see about this only-child puppy was his eyes. They were purple. Not a soft lilac purple, but an ugly glowing acidic purple. He went through his puppy-hood almost normally, his female owners calling him Gallant. But the Beast always had the strangest look in his eyes; a special glint that followed Opal’s young daughter, Helena. Beast’s gaze also followed Mrs. Opal Founder. The Beast loved Opal and Helena. He hated Mr. Max Walker, Opal Walker’s ex-husband.

“C’mon, Gallant!” Squealed the nine year-old Helena, waving the Beast’s leash and collar. The Beast padded over, loving the little girl’s soft fingers on his spine. Opal followed soon after her daughter, taking the leash with a simple, “Helena, Gallant will run away with you!” The Beast looked from one female to the other tongue lolling playfully from his mouth. Helena smiled and said, “Hurry, Mommy, Gallant wants to go!” Opal smiled and said back, “We have to wait for you father.” The Beast’s ear flew back against his head and his hackles went up. The Beast turned to see Sam Founder coming out of his bedroom, ready to leave with his wife and child. Beast hated men. Sam tried to take the leash but was foiled by the stern growl from the Beast, whose big teeth were bared at the man. Sam shook his head and said, “The old boy still doesn’t like me.” The Beast snorted and tugged at the lead, towards the door. Men sent chills down the Beast’s spine. Opal let the dog lead her out of the house and down the pretty front steps of the two-story California home. She clicked her tongue and said, “Easy, Gallant.” The Beast let up and trotted close to Opal’s side, Helena’s hand on his sturdy back. Sam followed close behind, but walked towards his wife’s unoccupied side. The Beast kept one eye always on Sam, ever wary of his big hands that could hurt and his tongue that could cut deeper than knifes. The Beast sunk back into one of his earliest memories,

The Beast had been lying quietly in front of the couch when Mr. Max Walker had stumbled into the house. It was almost three in the morning and Opal and Helena were asleep in their beds. Mr. Max Walker had attacked the Beast first, picking up the defenseless puppy and shaking him until the Beast thought he would go blind. Then Mr. Max Walker hit the Beast about the head savagely, until the puppy had yelped in pain. Mr. Max Walker held the pup to his face and hissed with a breath that stunk of whiskey and skin that stunk of another woman the Beast did not know, “Stupid beast! Can’t even defend yourself! Stupid pathetic beast!” Mr. Max Walker had throw the pup against the couch and moved on to his daughter’s room, waking dark haired Helena from her sleep by yelling, “Wake up!” The Beast flinched as he heard the stinging sound of Mr. Max Walker’s hand on his daughters’ cheek. “Wake UP!” Mr. Max Walker had yelled. Helena, being only seven at the time, began to cry. The Beast stood shakily and snarled. He dashed into Helena’s room as Mr. Max Walker was leaving to go to his own bedroom. The Beast had leapt onto Helena’s bed to find the child knocked out, face bruised and blood coming from her eyebrow. The Beast’s heart grew more troubled as he heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the next room over. He left Helena’s side and dared venture into the master bedroom, where Mr. Max Walker was beating his wife with the back of his had, yelling, “What do you think now! What now! Still want to get a divorce, huh?” The Beast and taken a few steps back and took a running leap at Mr. Max Walker, knocking the drunken man off balance. Mr. Max Walker had let his wife go, Opal then had pulled her self into a corner, sobbing. Mr. Max Walker struggled to his hands and knees when the Beast had attacked again, running forward and ripping at his face and hands. Mr. Max Walker had let out a scream, swinging a fist at the Beast. The Beast leapt nimbly out of the way and launched another attack at Mr. Max Walker. The Beast attacked again, this time getting cocky and paying dearly for being so. Mr. Max Walker had pulled out his pocket knife and left a gaping wound in the Beast’s side. The Beast yelped and had fallen to the floor, but he had bought enough time so Opal could get Helena out of the house. The Beast lay, bleeding and dying, as the police came. The Beast feared the police, with their flashing lights and pompous airs. The Beast was taken to the hospital, the human one, right along side Helena. The two had shared the same room, and when Helena felt better, she and the Beast went on walks down the hospital hallways. The nurses always petted his head and called him, “Savior” or “Hero.” The Beast liked the clean smelling nurses, but he was wary around the man. He called himself ‘Dr. James Hunter’, and the Beast didn’t like him one bit. He had always given him trouble, never letting him near Helena.

The Beast awoke from his memory, finding that the walk was over and that they were home. He panted happily and barked to be let off of the leash. Helena turned to her mother and said, “Gallant wants to be let off of the leash!” Opal looked at her child with an odd expression and said, “Honey, Gallant can’t talk.” Helena crossed her arms and twisted up her face and put plainly, “He can too!” Opal looked at Sam and murmured, “It’s getting worse.” The Beast knew what they were talking about. It was what Dr. James Hunter had always been talking about. The thing he had called, ‘COS.’

“COS or Childhood-Onset Schizophrenia, is the childhood form of schizophrenia.” Opal, at this time had cut it, “Why didn’t you catch this before?” Dr. Hunter had rubbed his forehead and said, “It’s almost impossible to diagnose COS before the age of five.” Opal had turned away, knowing this would cause more problems as the years went on. The Beast could only acknowledge the look of pain on her face.

Helena took the leash and led the Beast inside. She took off the leash, hung it on the hook, muttering to herself, “You can so talk, huh, Gallant.” Her voice changed to a strange growling purr, “Yes I can, Helena. I knew you would know that I could talk!” Helena’s voice switched back again, “I know, Gallant, I love you.” The Beast followed behind Helena protectively, choke-chain clinking quietly around his neck. Helena was stumbling now, moaning something like, “No daddy! No. Gallant help! Mommy!” Her eyes rolled dangerously back into her head as she finally stumbled into her room and picked up one her twenty or so teddy bears. She had picked up her favorite bear, a black plush thing that she called Snuggles. Helena sat and held Snuggles in her lap. The Beast walked in and sat with his back to the hallway. He watched his girl. His girl. Helena stroked the teddy bear’s head mewing at it, “Oh, Daddy, I love you so much!” She shoved her thumb into the seam on the bears back. “I love you, Daddy! I love you!” Helena shoved her whole hand into the seam with a loud, sickening riiiiiiiiip. Helena smiled and began to yell, “I LOVE YOU DADDY! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU DADDY!” The bear was inside out now, stuffing floating around the room like a sick, fragrant snow. Opal ran into the room and yelled, “HELENA!” The dark haired girl looked up with empty black eyes and said, “Daddy’s gone now, Mommy. All gone. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” She dropped what was left of the bear and sat in the middle of her room, staring into space. After watching the plush bear intestines settle on her daughters dark mane of hair, Opal began to cry, walking slowly out of the room and falling into Sam’s arms, wailing, “She’s calling her bears, ‘Daddy!’ And not even you, Sam! She’s talking about him! About him!” The Beast watched a fiercely familiar fire burning in his heart as Sam’s arms enclosed Opal. The Beast bared his fangs and barked, long and loud at Sam. The Beast’s purple eyes flared in anger and protection. HIS woman! HIS women! NOT Sam’s HIS! HISHISHISHISHIS! The big Doberman stalked over, stiff legged, snarling at Sam. Opal pushed him away and said, “Gallant! No, look I’m fine Gallant see?” The Beast looked up and studied Opal. No marks, no sickening yellow bruises, no blood. The Beast’s fire ebbed back into embers, and the dog went back to Helena’s room, where the girl was singing,

“Daddy, I love you. Daddy, I love you. Daddy, I love you and Gallant and Mommy do too.”

She was cradling the remains of Snuggle in her lap, stroking the plush black head, running the tips of her fingers over the ever-staring glass eyes, running the pink silk bow over her face. The Beast walked over to his girl and lay next to her, his head in her lap. The Beast whuffed lightly, sending the bear stuffing on the girl into another flurry, a tiny snowstorm. Helena absentmindedly stroked the Beast’s head, still singing,

“Daddy, where are you? Why did you go? I love you Daddy. I love you Daddy. I love you and Gallant and Mommy do too.”

Opal whipped away her tears and looked at Sam. Her deep brown eyes were blank and her mascara was running. She held out her hands, palms up. Her dark hear was a mess, teddy bear stuffing stuck in the thick curls. She was a defeated woman.

“Sam, what are we going to do?” Was the only thing she said.