I'd heard the stories of monsters before, seen their horrid pictures. But never have they been this graphic.
It was big - no, huge - standing across a small black room from me. The beast's sight was even more alarming, more frightening, than Satan himself. I closed my eyes, hoping desperately that I wouldn't see that face again. I could tell it was lurching towards me, stalking me, almost as if I could hear it's breathing, rough and uneven (although it was surprisingly quiet for it's size), almost panting, gaining on me like an angry, evil dog, longing for a meal to satisfy it's hunger after a long time. And in this case, it definitely was.
But what was I to do, me being a sixteen-year-old girl, only one hundred thirty pounds and five-foot-eleven? How could I hold this...this thing off, it being six foot with massive jaws? I couldn't.
I never thought my death would this way. A giant, man-eating beast ripping my head off. At least it done quickly, it would all be over soon. That might of been the only positive thing in this situation.
Dropping onto my knees involuntarily, I felt something wet on my face, sliding down. I hadn't realized I was crying. In my spinning head, I pleaded over and over for the monster to make it quick, easy, as painless as possible. I opened my drenched eyes.
It was right there, licking it's lips. I was staring death in the eye. It was so dangerous. Those fangs were so dangerous rather. I would die. I would die! I would die! I wouldn't try to escape or anything, I knew it would win. I knew what was coming and I didn't bother stopping it.
The beast pounced.