2 The No-Beast and the Bethany

The No-Beast and the Bethany LET ME GOOO!" Bethany cried, as the beast's two fat tongues slithered around her neck like a pair of greedy cobras. She was trapped in the glowing red walls of a D.o.R.R.i.S. laser cage. Her best friend, the young, 512-year-old Ebenezer Tweezer, was lying dead on the floor. "Oh, I don't think so," said the beast. Bethany had no idea how it was still able to speak, because she couldn't see its face. "This

particular feast has been a long time coming, and I have every intention of enjoying my supper." As the beast spoke, more and more tongues wrapped themselves around Bethany—first slithering around her sneakers and jeans, then covering her sweater, before two more headed straight for her face. "Did you really think you could escape me?" asked the beast. Bethany wriggled and writhed as she felt herself being dragged toward the beast's dribbling, stinking mouth.

"Didn't you realize the truth? I always have another scheme up my sleeve." The beast let out a deep, slithery chuckle. As Bethany was dragged closer to her death, she realized that this was inevitable. She'd never had a chance of defeating the beast. And then, just as she was about to be chomped to pieces, Bethany woke up. She found herself tossing and turning in her bedroom of the fifteen-story house. She was soaking wet. At first, she thought she was drenched in the beast's dribble, before she realized that it was just her own sweat. She patted her body, furiously checking that every limb, finger, knuckle, and kneecap was still there, unchomped and ready to use. As she got out of bed, her legs were still trembling, and she had to rub her eyes a few

times to make absolutely certain that she wasn't actually trapped in the beast's cage. "Stupid, stupid brain," she grumbled. "Why do you always have to give me nightmares?" Her brain had been tormenting her with nightmares for months—ever since she had last seen the beast in its cage. Sometimes her mind had devised elaborate scenarios involving exploding teapots and volcanic beehives; other times it had kept things classic with a simple head-chomping. It always took Bethany a few moments to recover. She was forever grateful that the creature who had almost eaten her alive (twice) was trapped in some faraway cage. If her legs hadn't been trembling, she might have even attempted to jump for joy.

Bethany got dressed and stomped out of the room, determined to put the whole thing behind her. She hadn't told anyone about her nightmares, because speaking about them somehow made them more real. When she got downstairs, she found Ebenezer worriedly looking out the window. Usually, Bethany liked to begin her day by pranking Ebenezer, or making fun of his stupid waistcoats, but there was something about seeing him dead in her dreams that put her in a more generous mood. She ran over and treated him to an ever-so-slightly-terrifying grin. "Morning, gitface!" She took a moment to compose herself, because she was never very good at saying soppy things. "I just want you

to know… I'm really glad you haven't been horribly murdered." Ebenezer turned away from the window and blinked at her a few times. This was one of the nicest things that Bethany had ever said to him, and he had no idea what he had done to deserve it. "Thank you, Bethany," said Ebenezer. He wasn't too good at the soppy stuff either, so he took a deep breath. "I… well, I'm delighted that you haven't been horribly murdered either." Bethany flashed her terrifying grin again, before stomping through to the kitchen. She picked up a hammer and started bashing a poor, defenseless muffin to death, while Ebenezer returned his attention to the window.