Prip'Yat: The Beast of Chernobyl

Chapter Twenty

Water drips from the ceiling of the mighty sarcophagus, cascading down into the dirt and concrete below. Perpetual puddles form small rivers inside the remains of reactor number four, winding their way through the rebar and reinforced steel structure that was torn apart by the destruction in 1986. Inside the sarcophagus the air is still thick and stale. Though circulation was once assisted by blowers, they have been neglected over the years, left to fall apart due to the lack of funding and manpower required to repair them.

The scent of rotting meat is strong inside the chamber. Strips of flesh, piles of bones and scattered remains of clothing, weapons and other gear are strewn in piles, adding to the bleak and gruesome atmosphere. Skulls that were gnawed clean months ago sit next to ones still covered in skin and muscle. Decapitated bodies lay in various positions, all in different states of decay and dismemberment. No light shines through, even in full daylight, thanks to the thick concrete walls of the sarcophagus. Time and nature have had their way, though, forming small holes and crevices through which spores, seeds, water and other things have infiltrated the structure.

Through this toxic maze of concrete, flesh, bone and radiation, a shadow walks. Darker than the blackness inside the sarcophagus, it moves slowly around corners and through passageways, winding its way along a familiar path from the exterior of the chamber into the very center. The beast’s bulky body is enormous, taller than a grizzly bear and as wide as an elephant. The beast makes little sound as it moves, only a slight rustle as it passes around obstacles in its path. The sheer size of the creature contrasts starkly with its movement as it behaves more like a liquid than a living being. Its body seems to shrink as it passes through narrow spaces in walkways and under fallen walls, treading a slow and steady path to the heart of the remains of the nuclear reactor itself.

Covered in a thick, short fur, the beast’s eyes are sunken into its skull, protecting them from attacks by sacrificing peripheral vision. It walks on four powerful legs that each bristle with fearsome claws, most of which have been stained red. Large ears twitch at the sides of the beasts head as it walks along, paying attention for any signs of danger in its inner sanctum. The beast’s nose runs with moisture that drips to the ground, forming small clear blobs that stick to the floor. Beneath the nose, just at the end of a short snout, the beast’s mouth is closed, though the ends of razor-sharp teeth are still visible. Bits of bone and cloth hang from the creature’s teeth, remnants of its previous kills.

As the creature passes into the center of the sarcophagus, it brushes past the steel beams that lay strewn about, shuddering in pleasure as it absorbs massive amounts of radiation into its body. The largest of these beams sits nearly vertical in the ground, having been lodged there from the room of the structure during the initial explosion. Here, at ground zero of the disaster, the radiation levels are off the chart, promising certain death to nearly any living thing that might try to venture this deep into the facility.

The beast is not put off by the radiation. On the contrary, it actively seeks it out. At the base of the beam is a nesting area where a portion of ground has been flattened and smoothed out into a resting place. Satiated after its meal, the beast curls its body around the beam, preparing to slumber and rest after a long night of hunting. The glow of the beast’s red eyes gradually fades away to nothing as it falls asleep, its chest gently rising and falling in time with its slow breathing.

Food.

The slumbering form of the beast twitches as its sensitive nose picks up on the scent of fresh game. Its red eyes open into small slits as it awakens. The beast is driven ever forward by the pursuit of sustenance, though the smell of fresh meat is not the only odor in the air. Now fully awake, the beast holds its head high, picking out traces of other scents, too. Fear, determination and anxiety mingle with lead and explosives. The creature snarls at this scent, revealing rows of teeth. A long scar stretches down the side of its face, freshly made from its most recent encounter. Though it has faced opposition in the past, a single piece of game has never put up such a fierce resistance as the one earlier in the night. The damage to the creature was minimal but it remains on guard.