Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Wild Animals

Episode Date: March 27, 2023

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Enter the twisted world of horror with my Patreon. Get early access to new episodes and a trove of bonus content to satisfy your darkest desires. My car's tires dug into the gravel driveway as I slammed on the brakes. The car skidded for several feet before it came to a stop, inches from hitting the closed garage door. Even before I opened my car door, I heard screaming from inside the house.

Moving quickly, I opened the door and took my foot off the brake pedal. The car moved, crunching into the tan garage door, crumpling it inward. I hadn't put it in park. Jamming the gear shift, I put the vehicle in park and jumped out, not bothering to turn it off or take the keys out. I ran up the six brick steps to the front door, which sat in the shade of the tall pine trees in front of the house.

I tried the knob, but the door was locked. Inside, glass shattered. Two very different screams sounded from inside the house. One was human, the other one was anything but. Lunging down the steps, I ran around to the back of the house. As I went, my guts coiled tightly. I knew, as sure as I've ever known anything with unassailable certainty, that what was happening was my fault,

I knew I could have stopped it, but I didn't. As I ran up the steps and reached the back door, I noticed that one of the rectangular glass panes was broken. There were spots of fresh blood on the glass and the tan-colored frame. The door was partially open, and I looked down by my left shoe to see drops of blood on the wooden steps. The screaming inside had stopped, but there was still whimpering and grunting. A chill swept across me, and the hairs on my neck stood up. I had the feeling that I was being watched from the woods behind the house.

The property included over 10 acres of land, most of them wooded. Looking back over my shoulder, I peered into the woods, and I saw something move in the trees, much faster than any human. The first time I met the unquestionably odd Delroy family was at the beginning of the year. The woods surrounding the house were half barren. The only greenery was that of pine needles adorning the evergreens branches. It was a gray, misty morning, and the property was patchy with fog as I drove up. The house was some mishmash of the Tudor and Craftsman styles.

It was tan and brown with brick around the front door. Three steep gable roofs over staring windows looked out upon the dark gray gravel driveway. Trisha's green electric car was parked in the little pullout to the right of the two-car garage. I parked my car next to it and got out. grabbing my backpack and my small red duffel bag with medical supplies inside. I was dressed in turquoise scrubs and comfortable shoes with a black jacket on against the chill winter morning. The front door opened and Trisha came out,

meeting me on the stone footpath up to the house. She had her bags in hand. They told you what this was about, right? She asked me. Yeah, they told me, I said. Is it really that bad? I thought I could handle it. Tricia said, shaking her head.

Beads of moisture were already forming on her springy black hair. But I don't know. They just give me a bad feeling, always staring at me. I can't take it anymore. I shrugged. Only time would tell if I could take it. But I thought I could. What about him?

He's doing about the same. Could go at any moment, really. I've checked vitals and done wound care. I applied a fentanyl patch two hours ago. and he had a bowel movement this morning already. It's all on the chart inside. Okay, I said. I think that's all I need, unless you have anything else?

Yeah, Trisha said. Good luck. We said goodbye and parted ways. As I approached the door, I heard the low hum of Trisha's car starting. I didn't have to knock, because as soon as I got to it, the front door opened to reveal a woman in her late 50s. Mrs. Delroy, her black, black hair was done up in curls that fell around her shoulders. She wore a pale yellow sweater

and jeans with house shoes. Her makeup was subtle and tastefully applied. I thought that was good. It's better for family members to do the things they normally do. Oftentimes, people just kind of give up. It's hard to watch someone you love slowly die. You must be Mr. West, she said. Come on in. Thank you, Mrs. Delroy. You can call me Paul, I told her. Step inside. Okay, Paul, you can call me Monica. I'll show you to William's room. The house was neat and clean, but it had a strange smell to it, an animal smell. It wasn't overpowering, but it was clearly there, unmistakable and wholly unique. She took me through a downstairs sitting room and a short hallway

into what had once been a den or an office. Against the wall to my left was an old man in a hospital bed. Delroy. His eyes were closed and medical machinery beeped and hummed around him. He was bald except for a few wispy white patches of hair over his overlarge ears. I knew from his file that he was 89 years old and that cancer was decimating his insides. It was dark in the room, which was why I didn't immediately notice the two figures sitting in wing back chairs opposite the bed. I felt eyes on me and turned to see two adult chimpanzees sitting in the chairs. They were gazing at me with sad eyes. Hey there, I whispered to the chimps, not wanting to wake Mr. Delroy.

My name's Paul West. Mrs. Delroy smiled sadly at me. That's Cherry, she said, pointing at the chimp in the far chair. Then she turned her attention to the other one. And that's Simon. Now you boys be good to Paul here, okay? He's here to help Daddy feel comfortable for his last days on this earth. Jerry nodded once, still looking at me.

Simon's eyes moved from Mr. Delroy to me and back again. His expression didn't change. As a regular watcher of wildlife documentaries, I had a general idea of what adult chimps looked like in the wild. These two seemed significantly overweight. They had thick, heavy-looking limbs and bigger bellies than I'd seen on any chimp before. either in person or on television. I pegged them for around 200 pounds, easy.

Don't worry, Mrs. Delroy said to me. They're perfectly harmless. They're just having a hard time with William's death. Understandable, I said. There was a table on the other side of the hospital bed where I could put my things. I headed that way and went about setting up my supplies. Do you need anything from me?

Mrs. Delroy asked. No, I don't think so. I'm just going to get myself situated and check his charts and vitals and everything. Oh, Trisha already did that, Mrs. Delroy said. If you like, I can make you a cup of coffee or tea? Yeah, she told me, I said. But I still like to get myself acclimated. Don't worry, I won't wake him up.

As for the coffee or tea, I'm okay for right now. Thank you, though. Something in the air shifted. There was an unmistakable pressure in the room suddenly. I wondered if I said something wrong. Glancing at the chimps, I saw that they were now staring at Mrs. Delroy. Well, once you get settled, I'd like to speak with you in the kitchen. She said in a clipped tone.

You'll be in my house, after all. I'd like to get to know anyone who's going to be spending time in my house. Yes, I said. Of course. I'll come to the kitchen as soon as I'm all set up in here. Good, she said. Go back out the way you came and take a left. You can't miss it.

She turned to leave and said, Jerry, Simon, come along now. Let's let the man do his work. Both the chimps got down from their chairs, and knuckle walked out of the room, glancing over their shoulders at me as they went. I hadn't been here for ten minutes yet, and I already knew how Trisha felt.

It was one thing seeing chimps in the zoo, separated by a barrier. It was something else entirely to be in the same room with them. But I figured things would be in the same room. change as I got to know them and got used to their presence. As I went about finding my bearings with Mr. Delroy, I told myself I would do my very best to get to know Simon and Jerry, to treat them like people instead of animals. After I got set up, I went to the kitchen, passing the living room as I did. Jerry and Simon were sitting on the couch, watching a television show. They both glanced

at me as I went past. I found Mrs. Delroy looking out the kitchen window at the back. backyard, a teacup in one hand. She apparently hadn't heard me come in, so I cleared my throat. She turned around and smiled at me. I couldn't help, but smiled back. She was an attractive woman. There was no doubt about that. I didn't want to pass judgment, but I knew that Mr. Delroy's insurance only covered so much hospice care. They were paying out of pocket for me to stay eight hours every day, longer if there was an emergency, or it was clear that Mr. Delroy was actively dying. It wasn't cheap, and despite the relatively modest house, the Delroy name was known around these parts. Rumor had it, that the guy was worth a cool hundred million.

Given her looks and age, Mrs. Delroy could have been a trophy wife. They'd been married for only 15 years, having tied the knot when he was 74, and she was in her early 40s. But I knew that love takes all kinds of forms, and I wasn't about to assume that she didn't love the man dying in the other room. I tried not to assume anything about any of the families whose lives I came into at a rough time. Please, have a seat, she said, gesturing at a table on one side of the large kitchen. Are you sure you don't want anything to drink? I'm okay, thanks. Okay, she said, sitting down across for me. We talked for about 15 minutes. She asked me standard questions about how long I'd been a hospice nurse, what school I'd gone to, how I liked the job, and all the other job interview

stuff. I got the feeling during our conversation that she just wanted someone to talk to. It was clear by her occasional pauses that she wanted me to ask her questions. I think she was disappointed when I only asked her about things relating to the care of Mr. Delroy. But I'd been doing this long enough to know that I shouldn't get any more involved than I absolutely had to. I had my own life to live, with my own trials and tribulations. I didn't need to take on anyone else's burdens, and I certainly didn't need to develop any kind of deep relationship with clients or patients.

I was here to make sure William Delroy was comfortable for his last days on this earth. That was it. Little did I know then that I would develop a relationship with the members of the Delroy household, one that would have a lasting impact on my life. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-moid for 15 minutes. We're like it's the hour of dojo. Preeto!

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188 and plus, 1st, at that. He was rarely conscious, and when he was, he was confused and babbling. More than once, I watched tears roll down Monica's cheeks as she spoke to her husband when he was awake. Maybe there were times at night when I wasn't at the house when he recognized her. But in the weeks leading up to his death, I'd never seen it happen. He called her by many names, but none were her own. Most of the time, Jerry and Simon sat in those chairs across from William's bed, watching him with their expressive eyes.

I learned to tell them apart by their facial hair. Jerry's chin was encompassed by gray hair, making it look like he had a goatee. Simon, on the other hand, was balding. His forehead extended all the way up to the crown of his skull. According to Monica, Jerry was 41 and Simon was 39. I had no idea off the top of my head what this meant as far as a chimps lifespan.

So I asked, Monica said that chimps living in captivity could grow as old as 70. In the wild, they lived to about 50. As the weeks passed, I got to know all about Simon and Jerry, not just because Monica and I had fallen into a habit of chatting in the kitchen for hours at a time, but because I interacted with the two chimps more and more as time went by. Once I started to feel more comfortable with them, I started talking to them like they were human members of the family.

They seemed to respond to this. Monica helped me learn what some of their gestures meant, although even she wasn't sure all the time. Halfway through the second week, after I finished checking on William, Jerry jumped down from his chair and took me by the hand. He panted and hooted softly as he led me out of the room and down the hall to the back door.

Monica was making some food in the kitchen, and she jumped when she heard us moving past the room. She spun around, quickly setting aside a white bottle, she'd been holding and then positioning her body so I couldn't see it. I pretended not to notice what she'd done, figuring it was none of my business. Jerry, she said, putting her hands on her hips. Where are you taking, Paul? The chimp gestured with his free hand and then pulled me to the door. You can say no if you don't want to go outside, Monica said. I don't mind, I told her smiling.

William is doing fine for now. Just give me a shout if you need anything. Monica nodded as Jerry opened the back door and pulled me outside. He walked by peedily next to me, still holding my hand. We headed along a trail into the woods behind the house, coming to a clearing with what looked like a playground set. Only, it wasn't meant for children. It was for the chimps. I expected Jerry to start climbing the wooden platforms and swinging from the ropes, but he didn't.

He let go of my hand, sat on his haunches next to. me and began gesturing. He only looked at me occasionally as he gestured, but that was normal for chumps. It was clear he was trying to tell me something, but I had no idea what. I'd only learned a couple of basic gestures by then, so all I could do was shrug and tell Jerry I was sorry, but I didn't know what he was saying. After several minutes of this, he seemed to grow frustrated. He started playing on the equipment, and I joined in, running around while he did. chased me with a smile in his face. When we headed back into the house, Simon was sitting in the television room, eating a bowl of fruit.

When Monica noticed we were back inside, she called to Jerry from the kitchen. Time to eat, Jerry, she said. Jerry ignored her, following me back to Williams' room to sit in his chair while I checked on the dying man. I heard Monica call out again, and I stepped to the door saying, He's in here with me. Soon, Monica appeared in the doorway. Come on, Jerry. Time for lunch, she said. Jerry pretended he didn't hear her, but I could see in his eyes that he had. He looked like he was ashamed, or maybe afraid.

Jerry, she said again. Come, here. Jerry looked at me, Bennett William, who was unconscious. When he saw no support, he got down from his chair and slowly followed Monica out. A few minutes later, the sound of porcelain shattering made me jump. One of the chimps, I wasn't sure which one, started screaming and hooting from the TV room. My heart working overtime, I ran out and saw Monica standing frozen next to a wall in the TV room. Just to the left of her head was a splotch of fruit juice from where the thrown bowl of fruit had impacted the wall.

Blueberries, strawberries, and apple slices littered the ground at her feet, along with pieces of the bowl. Jerry was jumping on the couch, screaming and hooting. Simon sat nearby, his mouth wide open and would look to me like a smile. Are you okay? I said. Handed her chest. Monica came to her senses. Yes, yes, I'm fine.

She said. I'll just get him something else. He can be such a picky eater. She moved off to the kitchen, and I followed her. As soon as we were out of the TV room, Jerry calmed down. What's going on? I asked. Does this happen before?

Monica waved to hand at me. It's fine, she said. He's just having a hard time. We're all having a hard time. I forgot. He doesn't like apples. I've just been so out of it. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, and it's just... Monica broke down mid-sentence,

sobbing as she cupped her face in her hands. It's understandable, I said in a soft voice, stepping toward her and instinctively putting a hand on her shoulder. She moved toward me, wrapping me in a hug and bawling into my shoulder. I said nothing. I just held her while she cried. It wasn't the first time I'd been a shoulder to cry on for a patient's family member, and it wouldn't be the last.

And if there was one thing I realized during my week and a half at the Delroy House, it was that Monica was a sad and lonely woman whose world was falling apart. She cried for a long time. At one point, I sensed movement near the delroy house. the kitchen doorway. I looked over my shoulder to see Jerry and Simon standing there on their feet, staring at us with something like curiosity in their eyes. William Delroy died a month and a half after I took over as the hospice nurse. It was clear what was happening while I was there on a Saturday, so I ended up staying, making sure he was comfortable as his body shut down. We were all in the room

when it happened. Jerry and Simon were jammed together in one of the wingback chairs, grooming each other. Monica paced at the foot of William's bed, occasionally stopping to hold his gnarled hand and tell him how much she loved him. I sat quietly near my supplies on the other side of the bed. When I finally announced that he was dead, Simon and Jerry jumped out of the chair and swaggered around, their arms above their heads as they scowled and hooted angrily. In the jungle, they would have grabbed tree branches or saplings and wrenched them around. But in this house, they had no such luxury. In his anger, Simon knocked over one of the wingbacked chairs. Jerry jumped up and down, beating his fists on the floor. Monica backed away toward the door, clearly frightened. I'd been

standing by William's bed, having just checked his vitals, but I sat down again, knowing instinctively that I should make myself smaller to seem less of a threat. Although I didn't really think they would attack me, the impressive displays scared me nonetheless. After six weeks of interacting with them, I knew how strong the chimps were. Although people often throw around ridiculous numbers when it comes to chimp's strength, saying they're five times stronger than the average human, I knew this wasn't accurate. In truth, the average chimp is one and a half times stronger than the average human. They have more fast twitch muscles, good for swinging and climbing and short bouts of activity. On the other hand, humans have more slow twitch muscles, better for stamina and moving

over long distances. I play wrestled with both chimps on occasion, and I could feel their strength, even though they never used all of it when we were playing, not even close. But I could still feel it there underneath. I knew that I would not come out on top during a confrontation with either animal if they really meant to do me harm. After about two minutes, the chimps stopped their display of anger and sadness. They jumped up on the bed, sitting on either side of William's cooling body. and stared at the man who adopted them nearly 40 years ago. Normally, that would have been the end of my interaction with the family. But I'd become friends with them all, Simon, Jerry, and Monica.

On Monica's request, I started coming over on the weekends to hang out for a few hours. When the weather was good, I'd accompany Jerry and Simon out to their playground where we'd horse around. Other times, I would watch television with them or talk to them using the limited gestures I'd learned. It was all very basic stuff, but it was cool to communicate with them, even if only to see what they wanted to eat or watch. Monica and I would sit in the kitchen, just as we'd done before William died, talking about anything and everything. Monica usually steered the conversation, which was fine by me.

She never ran out of things to talk about. It was during one of these visits that I asked her what was going to happen with Simon and Jerry. Are they going to keep living here with you? I asked. Monica's face fell. She looked down at her cup on the table. That's what William wanted, she said. He said so in his will. I nodded.

But what do you want? She looked over her shoulder toward the living room, even though we couldn't see the chimps in there. I don't know, she said. Eventually, they're going to need special care just like William. their bodies are going to grow old. I mean, they're already pretty old for chimps. I just don't know.

What about putting them with other chimps at a sanctuary? I asked. Monica shook her head. They've been living with humans for too long. They won't know how to act with other chimps. I've done some reading on it. That's tough, I said. William set aside money for their care, but...

Well, that's good, I replied. What's the problem? I don't know, she said. It's just so different without William here. I never felt like they warmed up to me, you know. They always spent most of their time with William. I was just the one who made them food and put on their shows or movies. It really is like having a couple of kids, I said, chuckling as I tried to lighten the mood.

Yeah, Monica said sourly. Only they'll never leave home to live their own lives. They'll be here forever. That was when the seed was playing. in my mind. I just didn't know it at the time. It wasn't until a month later that I started to suspect something wasn't right at the Delroy House. Monica was talking on the phone when I arrived at the house on a Sunday afternoon. She opened the door with a smile and gestured for me to come on in. She covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, Hey, Paul, I'll be with you in a few minutes.

If you're thirsty, help yourself to something from the fridge. I gave her a thumbs up and went to greet Simon and Jerry in the living room. But as soon as I saw them, I knew something was wrong. They usually greeted me by coming up and grabbing my hands and hooting softly at me. But this time, they didn't seem to even notice my presence. They were both watching television, sprawled out on the couch. Hey guys, I said. Jerry looked up at me, but it was like he wasn't really seeing me. He quickly turned his attention back to the TV. After standing there for several long moments, I decided I'd ask Monica about it when we talked. I headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab something to drink.

As I was looking, I saw a white bottle with no label on it. It was about the size and shape of a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Curious, I pulled it out and turned it around, looking for any information. It was completely blank. I heard footsteps behind me and saw Monica coming into the kitchen with a smile on her face. She was done with her phone call, but when she saw her. what I was holding, her smile fell away. Don't drink that!

She said, taking the bottle out of my hand. I wasn't going to, I was just wondering what it is. Monica's eyes darted around. Just something for Simon and Jerry, special medicine that they need to take. Definitely not for drinking. Oh, I said, wondering why she was acting so strange. Okay, got it. By the time the visit was over, I had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I asked her why Simon and Jerry weren't themselves. She said it was because they'd been acting crazy, and so she drugged them with sedatives in their lunch. I left the house wondering what, if anything, I could do. As I drove home, I remembered the day that Jerry had thrown his bowl of fruit at the wall. When he was leading me outside, we passed the kitchen where Monica was making food. She seemed startled at the time, and she'd been holding a white bottle which she'd placed on the counter before blocking it with her body. It was identical to the white bottle I'd found in the fridge, maybe even the same one. Could it be possible? I wondered. Could she be poisoning Simon and Jerry? Was that what Jerry had been trying to tell me the first time he took me

outside, away from Monica's prying eyes? I didn't want to believe it. I'd grown to like Monica. She seemed like a genuinely nice woman. But... But I had to a... admit to myself that I'd never fully warmed to her. Not really, not the way I'd warmed to Simon and Jerry. I had written it off as the difference between animals and humans. I thought since I wasn't the most sociable guy, it was just natural that I would feel more of a connection with the animals. After all, isn't there a certain purity in a relationship between a dog and a human, or a cat and a human? But Simon and Jerry weren't like dogs. They weren't. like cats. They were so much more, almost human, but without the capacity for deceit and ulterior motives.

I'd assumed that was why I hadn't warmed to Monica like I had to them. But as I drove away from the house that Sunday, I wasn't so sure. Maybe it was something else, some kind of deeper instinct that told me not to fully trust her. This is ridiculous, I said out loud. Monica wouldn't do anything to hurt them. Despite my urge to believe this was true, my mind kept going over and over my suspicions. As I approached my house, my phone rang.

I saw it was Monica calling. I answered. Hey. Ow! Monica screamed. In the background, I could hear the crazed screams of Simon and Jerry. It sounded as if she was trying to fight one or both of them off. Monica?

I'm coming. I shouted. turning the car around to disapproving haunts on the residential street. The call was ended from Monica's end, and I immediately tried to call her back as I sped down the road. She didn't answer, so I called 911 and told them this situation. They said they'd send police and animal control. Seven minutes later, my car's tires dug into the gravel driveway as I slammed on the brakes.

The car skidded for several feet before it came to a stop inches from hitting the closed garage door. Even before I opened my car door, I heard screaming from inside the house, from Monica and one of the chimp's. Moving quickly, I opened the door and took my foot off the brake pedal. The car moved, crunching into the tan garage door, crumpling it inward. I hadn't put it in park. Jamming the gear shift, I put the vehicle in park and jumped out, not bothering to turn it off or take the keys out. I ran up the six brick steps to the front door and tried the knob, but the door was locked. Inside, glass shattered.

Two very different screams sounded from in the house. Monica was in pain, that much was clear. But I couldn't tell from the other scream which chimp it was. Lunging down the steps, I ran around to the back of the house. As I went, my guts coiled in my stomach. I knew, as sure as I've ever known anything with unassailable certainty, that what was happening was my fault, I knew I could have stopped it.

I knew something was wrong, but I did nothing. As I ran up the steps and reached the back door, I noticed that one of the rectangular glass panes was broken. There were spots of fresh blood on the glass and the tan-colored frame. The door was partially open, and I looked down by my left boot to see drops of blood on the wooden steps. I wondered if Monica had tried locking one or both of the chimps outside. It seemed likely, and one of them had broken the window to unlock the door and open it. The screaming inside had stopped, but there was still whimpering and grunting.

A chill swept across. me, and the hairs on my neck stood up. I had the feeling that I was being watched from the woods behind the house. Looking back over my shoulder, I peered into the woods, and I saw something move in the trees, much faster than any human. Simon burst out of the trees, bounding toward me with his mouth wide open, sharp teeth showing. I got inside the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. It wouldn't keep Simon out, but it was all I could do. Running down the hall, I headed toward the stairs. I could hear the whimpering coming from up there.

The place was a mess, with picture frames broken on the floor and holes in many of the walls. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw upstairs. There's something else here now. Something new. From, exclusively on Paramount Plus, it's the series Stephen King calls Scarious Hell. Everything here is impossible, but it's also real.

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Monica's fingers. They'd been torn off. As I stepped into the master bedroom, where the tracks of blood led. I gasped at what I saw. Monica was on the floor at the foot of the king-sized bed. She was barely recognizable. Her eyes had been gouged out.

Blood was everywhere, along with parts of her hands and face. I rushed to her side, only realizing when I got there that the gasps weren't coming from her. She had no pulse. She was dead, although her body was still warm. Sensing movement behind me, I turned to see Jerry standing in the door. doorway I had just vacated, he was covered in Monica's blood. His mouth was open slightly,

his lips peeled back from his teeth in a grimace. I was already on my knees on the floor, but I sat down on my feet and hunched my shoulders in to make myself look smaller, like I was no threat. I stuck a handout, which I knew was a sign of subservience in certain instances. But I saw in Jerry's eyes that he wasn't done. If he recognized me, which I'm sure he did, It didn't matter. He jumped and attacked me, grabbing my hand and immediately breaking my ring and pinky fingers. I screamed out in pain and covered my eyes with my other hand, knowing he would go for them sooner or later, just as he had with Monica. I didn't try to fight him. I knew I would lose if I did. My only shot at living was to not show any resistance. If I wasn't a threat, maybe he would stop the attack. But he didn't. After breaking my fingers, he grabbed my right ear and ripped it off in one smooth movement.

Pain and terror became all I knew. Panic wrapped itself around me like a swarm of wasps. Then he went for my eyes. He pulled my right hand away and jammed one powerful finger into my right eye socket. But before he could gouge it out, he was suddenly gone. I was no longer under attack, and I soon realized why. Simon. The other chimp had gotten into the house and tackled Jerry.

They were rolling around on the other side of the room, fighting each other as they screamed in anger and pain. I got to my feet, holding my damaged left hand to my body. The right side of my head was nothing but a ball of pain. I could feel the blood dripping down my neck. I made it downstairs and out the front door just as a police cruiser pulled up. The cop got out of his car and put his hand on his weapon. Sir, tell me what happened.

Did an animal do that to you? Listen, I said, stumbling toward him. They're not bad. Don't shoot them, please. Don't shoot them. The guy was walking toward me. But he suddenly stopped and pulled out his gun. His gaze fixated on something over my shoulder. I suddenly realized that I couldn't hear Simon and Jerry screaming anymore. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Jerry at the front door,

looking out with a wide grin on his face. But it wasn't a happy grin. I knew that by now. It meant he was scared. He was scared, and he didn't know what to do. I looked back at the cop who was pointing his gun at the chimp. No! I said, don't!

Do that monkey kill someone? He asked, his voice laden with fear. He's covered in blood for Christ's sake. He's not a monkey, I said. And you don't understand. It's complicated. I heard Jerry move out of the house and down the stairs. I stepped between Jerry and the cop's gun.

Don't shoot him. He's going to attack you. The guy said, Get out of the way. Jerry was moving quickly up to me. For a moment, I thought the cop was right. I thought Jerry meant to kill me, like he'd almost done in the house.

All my instincts told me to move, to jump out of the way so the cop could shoot him. But I fought the instincts. I stayed put. And when Jerry got to me, he hunkered down behind me, grabbing my legs with his bloody hands as he peered around at the cop. It's not his fault, I said, talking to the cop. Then, seeing that the officer was relaxing a bit, I looked down into Jerry's eyes. It's not your fault, I told him.

He nodded once and panted. But I looked into his eyes, and I saw shame there. Simon had saved my life, and he paid for it with an eye. But at least he lived. After a couple of tests, it was clear that Monica had been slowly poisoning the chimps with methanol. Luckily, Jerry and Simon had known what she was doing, and had managed to keep from getting killed by refusing her food. Upon searching the house, the police found a syringe filled with the poisonous chemical.

My guess was she tried injecting Jerry with the stuff, and he had no choice but to defend himself. Investigators found out that most of Mr. Delroy's considerable fortune was set aside to care for the chimps into their old age. He left his wife enough money that she'd never have to work again, but I guess it wasn't enough. In the end, the money was used to get Simon and Jerry into a chimp sanctuary. It took a long time and lots of expensive care to get them acclimated to living with other chimps, but it worked. Although my fingers still ache on occasion, and my reattached ear sits at an odd angle to my head. I never hold it against Jerry. After all, he's a wild animal. In the end,

I guess you can count on wild animals to be just that. Wild. As for Monica's actions, one only needs to read the news headlines to see that her behavior wasn't really surprising. I thought she was a good person, but that's the thing about humans. Some of us are really good at hiding who we truly are and what we're willing to do for the things that we want. In the end, no matter how far we've come from living in trees like the wild chimps of today, we're still very much like our great ape cousins. We're still just wild animals.