Death is My BFFLAD Rewritten (Book 2 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 27: Strip

HEY HI HELLO YO ALOHA BONJOUR

 SUP?!??!?!??!?!?!??!

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 In an attempt to sever the quake of fear in my fingers, I gripped the hunting knife tightly in my hand.

This was a test. This had to be a test. But Death was nowhere in sight.

I tensed more and more with each advancing step the thing made in my direction.

Its body was bulging with muscle and covered with black quills similar to a porcupine, but much more frightening. It had pincer like teeth and some of the features and mannerisms of a dog, with its body shape, and the way its horned head lowered and its ears flat against its head as it let out a snarl in my direction.

This creature was much larger than any ordinary dog. As it corralled me into the center of the warehouse, it fell under a slant of light; its grey leathery features came into focus and my stomach churned. Terrifying features paired with gray leathery skin stretched tight against its bones. It's feet were a cousin to hooves. Its mussel was stained with blood and to my horror; when it snarled at me, there were chunks of flesh wedged between its teeth. And its teeth–God, those razor sharp teeth, dripped a blackish liquid that sizzled like acid once it hit the cold concrete.

It was a monster was straight out of a nightmare, yet it was carved with the most unusual beautifully features. A second ticked on into minutes. Sweat poured off of me. I looked down at my little hunter blade, up at the massive creature, back at the blade. It was starting look more and more like a toothpick than a weapon.

The creature's quills expand ever so slightly, before pressing tightly against its body like some sort of armor.

The hound took off towards me.

"Shit!"

Instinct switched on and I rolled out of the way before it rammed into me with its horns. I found out very quickly, that despite its size and horror appeal, this creature was stupid, considering it just kept running for twenty feet and smashed into a wall, before it realized it missed me. But once it turned back around, and noticed me, it was at me like rocket again.

This time, I only barely got away, and the black quills on the side of its came to life. They reached out and hooking onto my side like small fingers, dragging me with the creature as it sprinted. I cried out as my legs crumbled underneath me, my skin of my knees grating on the ground, as if I were attached to the side of a car going eighty miles per hour.

My arm swung out with my hunting blade, digging into the beast's side. A strange thrill washed over me, and in a vicious wave of violence, I ripped the knife from its muscular flesh and stabbed it again, and again, as it continued to run. The creature howled and the quills let go from my body. I gripped onto its quills, even as they pierced my hand, and before the creature continued to race out of my reach, I speared it again once, twice, three times, until its oily blood slickened my fingers and I lost my grip. I skidded across the ground, rolling a few times before I landed on my back.

The old lights on the ceiling of the warehouse were spinning, rotating. My vision was blurry, flickering in and out of blackness. Everything was pulsing in white-hot pain.

I rolled over onto my stomach, gripping the ground with bloody hands, breathing hard.

The creature wasn't dead, but it was dying. I could see its massive body hurdling towards me. I rolled right back into position as if it were now a routine. This time, as the beast hurdled towards me, I waited; waited, fell to my knees as it eagerly leapt into the air for my head, and boldly sliced its throat with the blade like a hook punch. Its body hurdled over me, and it hit the ground with a wet noise gurgling its throat.