By Wynn Ithapu
The thing was a rabid beast. His mouth foaming with blood, he lurked, waiting for his next prey. He lured you in, let you believe you had a chance, only cut you down with his razor sharp talons, blood and cartilage flung everywhere, you run, but you’re too late.
He will draw in others as well, those who know no better. He pounces. You get a clear view of his enormous maw, flesh from his last victim still jammed between his massive fangs.
He keeps you awake at night, you’re wasting your limited strength to keep him tame.
Help won’t be coming tonight.
Again, you remember how you onced loved him. He was kind and caring. The two of you would spar for pleasure, and you introduced him to your friends. He was a plaything, back when you were young and naive, not yet the varlet that's running your life into the dirt.
You must appease him now. You’re fighting for your life, yet he'll never comprehend what he’s done to you.
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