His face glistend with sweat as a sticky, muddy pool formed at the base of his neck. Glasses smudged and nearly broken, he squinted, barely able to see the approaching Miscreation, jerking and twisting like a madman as it raced towards him.
He secured his gun and emptied a clip into the Miscreation's chest. It fell in a heap close by and no sooner had the last deafening shot been fired, three more popped out, bloody faces smiling with a hunger only flesh could satisfy.
Jonah felt his heart leap into his throat.
Out of ammo, facing three Miscreations all at once.
That was practically suicide.
He turned on his heals and at break neck speed began racing through the maze of trenches, holding his gun tightly to his chest. He could hear the Miscreations stumbling and snarling behind him.
It felt like a game of Cat And Mouse.
Except this time, It wasn't a game.
It was real life.
