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As the beast lunges, small ripples trace across its skin as it slowly crashes full force into the blunt gunshot. The stringy, sinewy form of the creature is blown into chunks, then into ever-dissolving threads of blood and tissue. With a heavy, low thud, the meaty carcass crashes into the ground in front of you. The lumps of coagulated tar that spill out from the creature poor into puddles of inky blackness. You pull your feet closer to your body as you attempt to keep the substance from staining your shoes.
You take a deep breath as sweat falls in small droplets onto the front of your shirt, threatening to stain your tie. You can’t get the air into your lungs fast enough. Clutching the gun to your chest, your shaky hands rattle the weapon around, creating small clinking sensations. It is the only sound in the otherwise dead area. Zacharie is long gone. So is the lump of flesh in front of you (metaphorically speaking). You stand up, an aching in every pore, every fold and every lump of your being. You slowly step over the mound of quickly rotting dead, careful not to get your shoes dirty. It is time to carry forward. You don’t want to be later than you already are getting back to your post, do you?
(its 2 am for me haha, continuing tomorrow. hope everyone is having fun!)
