Blood trickled down from his left ear lobe onto his neck. The trail of blood got lost in his silk shirt as he strained for air. He could still feel the trace of the claw marks on his skin; the way they tore and pulled his flesh as they moved across his face was an agony like no other. The lingering pain was only surpassed by his fear of The Beast returning. Quiet creaks from Above echoed in the hollow room he was trapped in. The sounds grew louder and louder whilst the ceiling began to splinter, spraying rotting wood across the room. As the dust began to settle, he could make out a dark figure through the rubble. It crouched still and silent, allowing him to observe its protruding spine and blazing eyes. This was no beast; it was something far worse. Afraid of breaking eye contact, he tried to shuffle away, knowing full well he had no energy to do so. It began creaking its neck back and forth, letting him savour his last few breaths. Without further hesitation, it lunged forward. Oh, how he longed for the return of The Beast instead.
By Carina Cain.
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