Darkness falls

Into the Fire

Mark moved to the left and prayed that the beast wouldn't see him. It sniffed the air and moved slowly forward, emitting a low growl as it moved. Then it began to pace back and forth. All Mark could do was stand where he was and watch the animal. He tried to move a little further to the left, but the beast stopped and stared in his direction, letting out another low, warning growl. It slowly advanced on Mark's position, and as it drew closer Mark could feel the heat. He stopped dead in his tracks, slowing everything. His heart beat and breathing.

The beast resumed its pacing and Mark slowly let out a deep breath, then began to move again, towards the other side of the room, where he hoped there would be a door.

Just as everything seemed to be going right, Mark bumped into a table, knocking a glass beaker to the floor where it shattered, catching the beast's attention well and truly. It roared and launched itself at Mark who threw himself to the side just as a pillar of flame vaporized the table he had hit.

"Shit that was close." Mark muttered to himself as he rolled to his feet.

Once again he moved left, but this time he ran. The beast gave chase and Mark stumbled, tripping over his own feet. He fell flat on his stomach. The beast approached Mark with a menacing growl. Mark backed away as fast as he could, but was thwarted by a cabinet, which he rammed right into, sending its contents flying around the room. Something metallic clattered next to Mark. He groped for it in the darkness and felt his hands grip the rounded leather of a sword hilt. Mark lifted it up and displayed it between him and the beast.

This time it was Marks turn to take a menacing step forward, and the Beast took a wary step back, never taking its eyes off its opponent.

The beast suddenly lunged and Mark stabbed at it, catching it in the thigh. It howled and slid across the ground, slowly getting to it feet, it limped towards him, still as menacing as before, even though it was injured.

Mark took his chance and swung the sword, cleaving the beast's skull in two. Flame spurted out of the wound and the beast fell to the floor, dead. Mark stumbled away and slid to the floor, the sword clattering down beside him. Things were starting to look up, finally.

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Jack stared at his new skeletal form in one of the many mirrors dotted around the room. Ishmael rubbed his bruised neck, waiting for Jack to attack him again.

"Are you in any way pleased with you new form?"

The skeletal figure glanced back at him and almost seemed to burn Ishmael with its glare.

"Should I be?"

Ishmael backed away and held up his hands in surrender.

"You're everything you weren't in your human form. Super strong, faster, need I say more?"

The skeletal Jack examined his hands.

"All I am is a bag of fucking bones! Why is that good? How is that good?"

Jack grabbed Ishmael by the throat again and lifted him off the ground.

"Why? ... WHY!"

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L.A. 2001.

The beast sniffed the air and licked its lips. The scent of humans was on the air and they smelt divine, delicious, and totally scrumptious. Again it sniffed and again it licked its lips.

Then it moved out of hiding. Slowly at first, then it began to pick up speed, getting faster and faster until it began to gallop. It was on the hunt. Some poor soul was about to die.