Prologue: The One Who Breaks the Silence (Paris, 2025)
Beneath a gray sky, the cityscape of Paris lay blurred beyond the Seine River.
Hélène Baptiste traced the ancient manuscript in her hands with trembling fingers.
“1764—A series of attacks by an unidentified beast begins in the region of Gévaudan.
Even King Louis XV of France became involved.
The number of victims surpasses one hundred…”
The Beast of Gévaudan.
A case shrouded in ambiguity, terror, and conveniently woven into “legend” within the annals of French history.
Hélène was investigating it with one purpose in mind.
Hélène:
“There must have been a young man named Jean-Baptiste B.”
“The one passed down through my family’s stories… that man.”
In the archives of Lozère,
tucked deep within a dust-covered shelf,
She found an old journal bound in weathered leather.
On the cover, it read:
“Records of Gévaudan — 1764 to 1767
Author: Jean-Baptiste”
Upon opening the journal, these words were written on the very first page:
Morning mist drifted across the meadows.
Only the soft chime of a bell and the bleating of sheep echoed through the valley.
Unaware that this stillness… would soon be shattered forever.
Chapter 1: The Bloody Summer(June, 1764)
My name is Jean-Baptiste.
I was raised in a small village on the outskirts of Gévaudan,
by a blacksmith father and a shepherd mother.
I’m seventeen this year, and folks often say I can outrun anyone in the village.
But that day—
The moment I heard that sound—
I couldn’t move a single step.
It echoed from deep within the distant forest.
“…Grrrrr…rrrrraaaAAAARGH!!”
A beast’s roar—
Yet it sounded eerily like the strangled scream of a man whose throat had been crushed.
The next morning, the villagers gathered in the square.
Cradled in the arms of her wailing family was the lifeless body of a shepherd’s daughter—her throat torn out.
Villagers:
“That’s no wolf… I’ve never seen anything eat like that…”
“What kind of beast can tear out a human throat in a single bite?!”
The elders’ voices trembled.
Everyone in the village knew—
This wasn’t the work of a normal wolf.
And from that day on, not a single soul in our village let their children step outside before sunset.
Chapter 2: The Unseen Shadow(Summer to Autumn, 1764)
A few days later, I made sure to keep my little sister, Lisette, far away from the forest.
Lizette:
“Is it really that scary?”
“Isn’t it just a wolf?”
Jean:
“…That thing… isn’t a wolf.”
I could hear the tremor in my own voice as I answered her.
At night, that eerie growl would rise from deep within the forest.
The village dogs barked relentlessly, and even the cattle grew restless, unnaturally so.
But—
Our village wasn’t the only one under attack.
First, it was a young girl in a cottage in the neighboring village.
Then, a woodsman.
Each of them had their throat or neck savagely torn out.
And strangely, the beast had barely eaten any of the flesh.
As if the very act of killing was its sole purpose.
Armed men began gathering in the village square—
hoes, hunting rifles, knives, torches.
But truth be told, few among them were truly prepared to fight.
Villagers:
“Did you see the body?”
“It was torn to pieces…”
“The priest said… it might be divine punishment…”
Mother started going to church more often, and Father began forging silver crosses in the smithy.
Lisette, through her tears, said she would never go back to the meadows again.
One night,
I was stationed in a lookout hut near the forest with my best friend, Pierre.
We’d just been added to the village’s young patrol group.
Pierre:
“Hey, Jean… do you really think that thing is a beast?”
Jean:
“…What are you trying to say?”
Pierre:
“What if… what if it’s a human?”
In that instant, a chill shot down my spine.
Could it be—
That thing was something pretending to be human?
That night, we saw glowing eyes deep within the forest.
Amid the flicker of torchlight, a massive shadow slid silently between the trees.
My heart leapt in my chest.
Pierre raised his rifle.
But the shadow vanished—without a sound.
Nothing had happened—at least, that’s what we thought.
But after that night, Pierre disappeared from the village.
Lisette wouldn’t stop crying, and those glowing eyes began haunting my dreams.
No one in the village dared step outside after dark anymore.
And within me, a single thought had begun to take root.
Jean:
“—I will be the one to kill it.”
Chapter 3: The King’s Hunter(1765)
Spring passed, and summer arrived, yet in Gévaudan, the “Silent Death” continued to claim lives.
This unseen war had spread beyond our village, reaching the surrounding towns and hamlets.
Rumor had it, the whispers even reached the royal court in Versailles.
One day, a convoy of carriages arrived in our village.
Men in blue military uniforms, feathered hats, and among them, a sharp-eyed man dismounted his horse with quiet authority.
Antoine de Beauterne.
Royal hunter in service to King Louis XV.
“I’ve been sent to hunt the Beast of Gévaudan,” he declared.
The villagers erupted in cheers.
Villagers:
“The King hasn’t abandoned us!”
“This nightmare will finally end!”
For a brief moment, I too felt a flicker of hope.
But that hope slowly began to twist into unease.
Beauterne set traps in the forest, armed himself with rifles, and unleashed hunting dogs.
But the beast was cunning.
It avoided the traps, killed the dogs, and moved as if it could predict human behavior.
Days passed, and still, there was no success.
And yet, Beauterne proclaimed.
Beauterne:
“Rest easy.”
“The beast will reveal itself soon.”
One night, Lisette whispered to me.
Lizette:
“Big brother… about Pierre…”
Jean:
“…What is it?”
Lizette:
“They’re saying… the night before the royal hunter arrived, Pierre saw something.”
“He told someone about it… and then he vanished the next day.”
Jean:
“Who did he tell?”
Lizette:
“I don’t know.”
“But… they say it might’ve been someone from the village.”
I clenched my fists.
Jean:
“It’s not just the beast…”
“Are there those with fangs among us, too?”
At last, Beauterne shot and killed a massive wolf.
Beauterne:
“This is the Beast of Gévaudan!”
He held up the carcass and proclaimed it with pride.
It was sent to the royal court, and the nobles, they say, held a grand celebration.
At first, even the villagers rejoiced.
I myself shed tears of relief.
Villagers:
“At last… the nightmare is over.”
…But three days later, a new corpse was found in the neighboring village.
It was a young girl.
Her neck—her throat—had been torn apart.
That night, when I heard the news,
I truly thought for the first time.
Jean:
“It won’t be a king who kills that thing.”
“It will be our rage.”
And deep within my chest, a quiet doubt had begun to burn.
Jean:
“Did Pierre fall prey to the beast…”
“Or did he see something he was never meant to see?”
Chapter 4: A False Victory(Late 1765)
For a few brief days, peace returned to the village after the royal hunter proudly declared the Beast of Gévaudan slain.
Children played outside once more, and the church was filled with prayers of gratitude.
But—
Three days later, the young girl’s corpse was found in the neighboring village, and it shattered everything once again.
Lizette:
“It’s still… alive.”
Lisette’s hand was trembling.
That night, I got into an argument with my father.
Jean:
“That’s enough!”
“Even the king’s hunter couldn’t kill it!”
“Then I’ll be the one—!”
Father:
“You’re only seventeen, Jean.”
“Stop pretending to be a hero.”
“Just live. That’s all I ask.”
Jean:
“…Then tell me—who’s going to use that gun?”
The moment I said it, Father averted his eyes.
The next day, I went alone to the lookout hut where Pierre and I had stood watch that final night.
Something told me… something was still there.
Deep in the forest, at the base of a fallen tree—
I found a small piece of metal lying in the dirt.
—A silver pendant.
It was the one Pierre had received from his mother.
Why… was it here, of all places?
But the moment I reached down to pick it up—
“…Don’t touch that.”
A low, raspy voice sounded from behind me.
I turned around—
and saw a figure in the forest’s shadows.
A man.
A face I didn’t recognize.
But the eyes—
I would never forget those eyes.
The same dull amber hue… as the beast.
Mysterious Man:
“Are you planning to end up like Pierre…seeing things you weren’t meant to?”
Jean:
“…Who the hell are you?”
The man didn’t answer.
He left only a single phrase behind before vanishing into the forest.
Mysterious Man:
“The beast doesn’t dwell only in the forest.”
“It hides among men as well.”
Jean:
“Pierre hadn’t been killed by the beast.”
“What if he had learned something—
And was silenced because of it?”
After that, I couldn’t sleep at night.
And so, I made a decision.
Jean:
“I won’t rely on anyone anymore.”
“I’ll end this—with my own hands.”
“To protect the village?”
“To protect my sister?”
“No… it wasn’t just that.”
“I was angry—for Pierre.”
Chapter 5: The Silver Bullet(1767)
A new year had begun.
Winter in Gévaudan was bitter, wrapped in a heavy, suffocating silence.
In the village, no one spoke of the beast anymore.
But not because it was over—
Because everyone had come to realize, it would never truly end.
One day, I entered the forest alone.
In my hands was the rifle my father had finally entrusted to me.
At my waist—
a silver bullet I had secretly forged in the smithy.
“Silver cuts through evil.”
“That’s what they’ve always said”
“Whether you believe it or not… that’s up to you.”
—My father’s words
In the forest, I encountered an old man.
Wearing tattered clothes,
His face was lined with deep wrinkles,
and eyes that were sharp—yet eerily calm.
Jean Chastel.
A man who, it was said, defied even the king’s orders
to pursue the beast on his own terms.
Chastel:
“…You’re the boy who survived that night.”
Jean:
“I was Pierre’s friend.”
Chastel:
“I see.”
“He came here too—only once.”
“Right before that night.”
Jean:
“What did he see… that night?”
Chastel remained silent for a moment.
Then slowly, he placed a small silver bullet in my hand.
Chastel:
“When the time comes, use it.”
“But don’t be mistaken—”
“The one you must shoot… may not look like a beast.”
That night, I had a dream.
In the forest, Lisette was being hunted by the beast.
And within its shadow was the figure of a human with amber-colored eyes.
turned—
And there was Pierre, smiling.
Blood still marked his throat as he spoke:
Pierre:
“Jean…It gets hard to tell which one’s the real beast, doesn’t it?”
When I awoke, the village was in chaos.
Villagers:
“Chastel fired!”
“They say he finally brought the beast down!”
I ran toward the forest.
A crowd of villagers had gathered at the scene.
And there, lying before them, was a grotesque, unnatural corpse.
It looked like a wolf—but it wasn’t.
Its fangs were thick and oversized,
its body unnaturally long,
and around its forelegs were marks… like the remnants of chains.
Jean:
“This thing… was kept by someone…?”
What spilled out… were human bones, scraps of clothing—
and Pierre’s silver pendant.
I stood there, frozen, my body trembling.
Silence returned to the village once more.
But inside me, something had not ended.
Jean:
“What did Pierre see?”
“Who was keeping that beast?”
“And—was this truly the end?”
I kept one silver bullet, tucked it back into my belt.
I couldn’t shake the feeling—
That something still remained in this land,
something yet to be confronted.
Final Chapter: The Beast Within
Summer, 1767 — What Remained After the ‘Incident’
Ever since the beast was killed, “normal life” returned to the village.
Children ran through the fields again, and even Lisette had started to smile once more.
But—
In my heart, something still remained unfinished.
Pierre’s pendant, pulled from the beast’s belly—
it didn’t feel like proof that he’d been eaten.
It felt… deliberate.
As if someone had placed it there—
to be seen.
One night, I returned to Chastel.
Jean:
“Why… didn’t you say anything about Pierre back then?”
Chastel:
“…”
Jean:
“You were hunting that beast long before anyone else.”
“If Pierre saw a beast that was being kept by someone—then you must have—”
Chastel:
“I couldn’t say it.”
Chastel:
“What Pierre saw wasn’t the beast itself.”
“It was the person who kept it.”
“If that truth came to light…”
“This village would never be the same again.”
Jean:
“Who was it…?”
The old man said nothing.
But I already had my suspicions.
Jean:
“…That night—the night the beast first appeared—”
“I heard Count Monrois was away from his manor.”
“And the next morning,
he calmly walked through the village as if nothing had happened,
asking for ‘a report on the damages.’
Almost like… he was checking on the results of a trap he had set.”
Count Monrois—the village’s landowner.
The meadow where the first attack took place belonged to his estate.
And the witnesses who vanished, one after another, under the guise of “accidents”—
They were all connected to him.
Jean:
“…The beast was disposed of.”
“But no one dared lay a hand on the one who kept it… did they?”
Chastel:
“What will you do?”
I remained silent.
In that moment, a faint memory surfaced—
Something my father once muttered, almost in passing.
Father:
“They say when Monrois was young, his mother was killed by a wolf.”
“That’s why he despises animals so much… or so the story goes.”
Chastel had also once whispered :
Chastel:
“What the Count feared wasn’t the beast.”
“It was the power that lies within people.”
Chastel:
“…Among the nobility of that era, there were those who collected ‘exotic beasts’ as a hobby.”
“Hyenas from the south, ferocious dogs…
And if the creature was a ‘beast with intellect,’ all the more reason to value it.”
Jean:
“Was Count Monrois one of them?”
Chastel:
“He’s a man who learned the ‘pleasure of controlling fear’ through hunting.”
“You saw it too, didn’t you?”
“The beast’s eyes.”
“That wasn’t just some wild animal.”
“It was a ‘trained’ killing machine.”
Jean:
“But why go to such dangerous lengths…?”
Chastel:
“It was rumored that when the Count was young, he defied the royal family’s orders and was exiled here, to this land.”
“Gévaudan is far from Paris, a remote countryside where the King’s eyes don’t reach.”
“The records are vague, and even the clergy—”
“They kept their heads down, silent, so as not to anger the Count.”
“In other words, that beast was a symbol to him, a representation of something he could control.”
“Those who were ruled, those who turned a blind eye—”
“They were all tamed in advance… just like the beast.”
I remembered.
The words the Count had spoken to the children in the village square.
Count:
“Fear can be controlled.”
“That is why you should feel safe.”
“But those who try to erase fear will eventually lose themselves.”
…That man didn’t keep the beast.
He had caged his own fear and kept it under control.
And in the end, he became unable to let it go.
My fists trembled.
But now, I could no longer pull the trigger.
I couldn’t find the words to answer.
Jean:
“There’s no proof.”
“I can’t name anyone.”
“But I’ll never forget the amber eyes I saw that night.”
“Pierre’s silence, the village’s fear, the marks of chains on the beast—”
“All the threads lead to one place.”
“That, I’m certain of.”
That night, I stood far away, gazing at the Monrois estate.
But there was no reason to pull the trigger there.
That man would no longer keep the next beast.
The village fell silent, and the people continued to live, pretending not to know.
Lisette smiles, unaware of anything.
As long as she keeps smiling, that’s enough for me.
Jean:
“The Beast of Gévaudan is dead.”
“But the beast is not only that which takes form.”
“Fear, silence, desire—and—oblivion.”
fired the last silver bullet deep into the heart of the forest.
As the gunshot echoed, I spoke to Pierre in my heart.
Jean:
“…I’m sorry.”
“But I will live.”
“Not as a beast, but as a man.”
Final Chapter: What Remains in the Silence
After that, the beast never appeared again in Gévaudan.
But it was never passed down through stories.
“The beast was a wolf.”
“It was just a legend.”
The people said this, choosing to forget.
I am still here,
living as the village blacksmith,
Teaching the children how to handle fire.
Sometimes, when I enter the forest, I remember.
The smell of blood, those eyes, and Pierre’s voice.
Pierre:
“Jean…”
“It gets hard to tell which one’s the real beast, doesn’t it?”
I quietly smile and answer.
Jean:
“Yeah. But I won’t be lost anymore.”
—But at that time, I still didn’t know.
That Pierre had entrusted another voice—
Only to Lisette.
And that this voice, across time, was about to reach someone else’s hands.
The voice passed down
2025, Paris
At the Archives
In the stillness of the archives, I was immersed in the lingering sensation after finishing Hélène Baptiste’s manuscript.
But deep within the leather-bound notebook—
She noticed another piece of paper, thin and tucked between the pages.
LIzette:
“…What is this?”
The paper was aged, with scorch marks in places.
But the handwriting was unmistakably not Jean’s.
“Pierre D.”
Hélène’s eyes widened at the signature written in the corner.
With trembling fingers, she turned the paper.
There, she found the record of a single boy’s heart.
This is another truth, one that was never told in Jean’s story.
A Letter to Lisette: The Feelings Entrusted
How many years have passed since then?
I never married.
I have no children.
But now, I think it was for the best.
By chance, while sorting through a box in the attic, I found it.
It was still there, just as it had been.
The letter Pierre entrusted to me, that night, and no one else.
Pierre:
“Don’t tell Jean.”
“If he finds out, both of us may never be able to stay in this village again.”
“But… I believe I can entrust this to you.”
At that time, I was too young to understand its meaning.
Lizette:
“But now, I can read it.”
“And I’m ready to accept it.”
I quietly sat down in the chair and opened the letter.
The yellowed letters seemed to whisper across time, their ink faintly smudged.
Pierre’s Story
Part One: Beneath the Gray Sky
The first time I heard the word death, I was five winters old.
They said my father was killed by a beast in the forest, his throat torn open.
But none of the adults in the village would meet my gaze.
Mother:
“That wasn’t… a beast.”
“He was killed by someone.”
My mother whispered those words just once.
And that same year, she fell ill and never rose from her bed again.
I became an orphan.
But there was one boy in the village who reached out to me.
Jean-Baptiste.
He shared with me a half-eaten loaf of bread.
On a snowy night, without a word, he draped his coat over my shoulders.
That day, I made a vow.
Pierre’s thoughts:
“I will never betray this friendship, no matter what happens.”
Growing up in poverty, my eyes and ears became sharp.
I could tell who was lying, who was hiding their true feelings.
Pretending to be a child, I always watched the “other side” of the adults.
Especially Count Monrois.
The way he always looked down on me.
Count Monrois:
“Poor children have more usefulness than education.”
I heard him whisper.
I quietly began preparing to get closer to him.
Part Two: The Beast’s Keeper
When I turned 15, Count Monrois was looking for help.
I volunteered.
I didn’t say,
“I want to avenge my father.”
I simply said,
“I want money.”
At the manor, I was made to work as the lowest servant.
Cleaning the stables, feeding the dogs, tending to the latrines…
But information always trickled up from below.
I heard.
That the Count had acquired a strange beast from somewhere else.
A large cage, brought in by a soldier returning from the military.
I heard the Count laugh, saying,
“It’s a beast with eyes like a human’s.”
One night, I secretly went to see that cage.
Inside, there was a creature—neither wolf nor dog, but a sleek, black being.
But the moment I met its gaze, a chill ran down my spine.
—It had eyes just like a human’s.
That was the creature that would later be known as the Beast of Gévaudan.
I had intended to tell Jean this truth.
But someone must have sensed it.
On my way back to the manor, I was struck from behind.
Everything went dark before my eyes.
When I regained consciousness, I was in the forest.
I told myself,
“Run.”
And I ran.
When I returned to the hut and saw Jean’s face, no words came out.
Pierre:
“Someone in this village is trying to kill me.”
“I can’t drag Jean into this.”
“That’s the one thing I can’t allow.”
“Jean still has his young sister, Lisette.”
That’s what I thought.
So, that night, I disappeared on my own.
I made my decision.
Pierre:
“They were the ones who helped me.”
“Now, it’s my turn to save them.”
“Luckily, I have no family.”
“I have nothing to lose.”
“That’s why I’ll make sure to gather the evidence and expose his true identity.”
“So that Jean and Lisette can live in peace, smiling.”
That was my final wish.
―Pierre
―I couldn’t say anything.
I thought about throwing it into the flames, but I couldn’t.
I gently placed it back in the box and locked it.
Then, I whispered softly within my heart.
Lizette:
“Thank you, Pierre.”
“I’ll remember, I promise.”
“I’ll make sure it’s passed on.”
Outside the window, the autumn wind whispered softly.
It felt as if, from afar, someone had nodded in response.
Final Chapter: For the Truth That Was Never Recorded
Hélène:
“Jean, Pierre, Lisette, I have truly received your feelings.”
“I will be the one to pass them on.”
Hélène closed the letter and gently held it to her chest.
The year her thesis was published,
Reconsidering the Beast of Gévaudan received high acclaim from the historical community.
And she visited the village of Gévaudan.
She placed flowers at a small cross, erected without anyone knowing its name, and whispered softly.
Hélène:
“Pierre, Jean, Lisette, your story can never be erased by anyone.”
She stood up, and without looking back, she left the forest.
But in her heart, she carried a certainty.
“The reason Jean fell silent, the reason Pierre lost his life—
It all lies in the ‘truths that were never recorded.'”
Now that she had understood them, there was no longer any doubt.
The forest breeze gently swept through, and the rustling of the leaves responded.
As if, from far away, someone had laughed―
The Beast of Gévaudan (La Bête du Gévaudan) is the mysterious creature featured in a series of man-eating beast incidents that took place in the Gévaudan region of France (now part of the Lozère department and surrounding areas) during the 18th century.
These events occurred between 1764 and 1767 and escalated into a nationwide disturbance, involving even King Louis XV of France.
Overview
Period: June 1764 – June 1767
Location: Southern France, Gévaudan region (which was part of the Auvergne region at the time)
Number of Victims: Official records state that around 100 people were killed, with dozens more severely injured.
Characteristics of the Beast:
Resembled a wolf but was much larger and more agile than a typical wolf.
Eyewitnesses reported it having red fur with black streaks along its back.
It had a habit of targeting humans, specifically attacking the neck and throat (with a preference for women and children).
Timeline: The Beast of Gévaudan Incident
● June 1764
The first attack is reported. The victim, a woman, had her throat torn out.
Following this, multiple eyewitness accounts flood in, and fear spreads about a creature that was not like any normal wolf.
● 1765
Gévaudan was gripped by terror, and villagers began to move in groups for safety.
King Louis XV intervenes in the disturbance, and the royal hunter, Antoine de Beauterne, is dispatched to deal with the situation.
In September of the same year, the royal hunter announces that he has slain a “giant wolf,” and the king officially declares the death of the beast.
However, the attacks continued, and there were growing voices claiming that “the real beast is still alive.”
● 1767
Local hunter Jean Chastel kills one of the beasts with a “blessed silver bullet.”
Human bones and pieces of clothing were found inside the beast’s stomach, and after that, the attacks ceased.
Various Theories about the Beast’s Identity
The true identity of the Beast of Gévaudan remains unconfirmed, but there are several theories, including the following:
1. The Theory of a Giant Wolf (or Pack of Wolves)
This is the most plausible theory.
This theory suggests that the beast could have been a hybrid between a domesticated large dog and a wolf.
3. The Escape of a Wild Beast Theory (Hyena, Lion, etc.)This theory suggests that the creature could have been an exotic animal, such as a hyena or a lion, that escaped from a circus or a private zoo owned by the nobility.
Hyenas, in particular, are often cited as plausible candidates because they resemble wolves and have a nature that makes them prone to attacking humans, which makes this theory quite compelling in some circles.
The Serial Killer Theory (Staging the Beast’s Attacks)
This conspiracy theory suggests that the attacks were not committed by a beast at all, but rather by a human serial killer who staged the murders to appear as though they were caused by a wild animal.
The theory is supported by reports that the “beast” appeared to be unusually tame and even trained, possibly suggesting it was under human control rather than being a wild animal.
Impact on Modern Culture
The Beast of Gévaudan has influenced works beyond mere ghost stories, including the following:
🎥 Film The Brotherhood of the Wolf (Le Pacte des Loups)
This film offers a bold and stylish interpretation of the event, blending historical fiction with action and supernatural themes.
Set in 18th-century France, it combines elements of horror, action, and adventure, reimagining the mysterious attacks of the Beast and weaving them into a thrilling narrative.
🎮 Game Bloodborne
In the game Bloodborne, themes of “beast transformation” and “monstrous hunters” are heavily influenced by the concept of the Beast of Gévaudan.
The game, set in a gothic, nightmarish world, revolves around a hunter battling grotesque, beastly creatures, and exploring the horrors of human transformation into monsters.
The idea of a terrifying creature lurking in the shadows and the fear it generates closely mirrors the terror caused by the Beast of Gévaudan.
🛒 [See Bloodborne – PS4 Edition]
🎴 The Fate series also features Servants and settings inspired by the Beast of Gévaudan.
These elements are woven into the lore of the series, blending historical events with fantasy and supernatural themes.
The Beast’s mystery and the idea of monstrous creatures have inspired characters and concepts in the Fate universe, particularly in games like Fate/Grand Order.
🛒 Fate/Grand Order – Official Book
Watch Fate Anime
Reason vs. Barbarism — The Trial of Enlightenment Thought
The period during the Beast of Gévaudan events was the late 18th century, known as the “Age of Enlightenment” (Siècle des Lumières).
However, the people, exposed to the terror of the beast, turned not to science but to superstition and rumors for answers.
The beast became a symbol of “instincts that could not be controlled by reason,”
The Powerlessness of State Authority
Even though King Louis XV sent hunters to solve the issue, the attacks continued, causing the trust of the people to crumble.
“Neither the king nor the nobility will ultimately protect us.”
→ This distrust and anger became fertile ground for the revolutionary sentiments that would emerge in the years to come.
The Divide Between Rural and Urban
In Paris and the larger cities, the “savage rural wolf hysteria” was mocked,
while in the countryside, fear and despair over losing lives swirled around the people.
The beast became a symbol of this information gap and condescending laughter.
The Fear of Human “Beastliness”
What was the true identity of the beast? What if, in the end, it was human?
Desire, violence, silence, cruelty—did they really come from the outside?
The Beast of Gévaudan was a reflection of the instincts humans directed at one another,
uncovering the “human essence” lurking beneath the mask of reason.
The story of the Beast of Gévaudan, a mystery that has captivated the imagination of generations, is not just about a creature that terrorized the countryside.
It is a tale that reflects deeper truths about humanity, society, and the fragile nature of reason.
The fear that gripped the people of Gévaudan was not merely the terror of an unknown beast, but also a reflection of the larger anxieties of an age teetering on the brink of revolution.
The Enlightenment, with its promises of reason and scientific progress, struggled to provide answers in the face of such primal terror.
As the beast’s attacks continued, it became a symbol not only of the uncontrollable forces of nature but also of the instincts that lie buried within us all.
Through this story, we see how quickly the veneer of civilization can crack under pressure, revealing the chaos and darkness beneath.
The divide between the rural and the urban, the poor and the powerful, is starkly drawn, and the beast itself becomes a manifestation of these inequalities and the human nature that transcends them.
It forces us to confront the uncomfortable reality that our own “beastliness” may not be so far removed from our civilized selves.
As we reflect on the terror that once gripped the people of Gévaudan, let us also remember the lessons it offers us today.
For in every story, there lies a truth—one that speaks not just of the past, but of the present and the future. The real beast, perhaps, is not always what we see, but what we fail to understand in ourselves.
Thank you for joining me on this journey into the shadows of history.
The Beast of Gévaudan may have been vanquished, but its echoes remain, reminding us that some mysteries may never be fully solved.
―Storyteller Fuji
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I’m a passionate blogger who loves diving deep into human history and sharing captivating stories about remarkable figures and events from the past. My blog combines engaging storytelling with beautiful illustrations, making history accessible and enjoyable for everyone.
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Thank you for joining me on this journey through time. Let’s uncover the past together!
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