Peace

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AN: lots of gore in this one, sorry. (I write quite a bit of gore so maybe just watch out for it, sometimes I don't realise how bad it could be.)

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They sit side by side, watching the landscape in front of them. They felt a sense of peace, a peace that would soon be disturbed. You sit a bit behind them, never really leaving your friends' side. Looking over with them at the hellish landscape in front of you. None of you see it coming until it's too late.

There are no words that can explain it sufficiently. Its eyes bulge out, framed by skin as dark as the night sky. Its growl makes your bones shake. It's skin bubbles like tar, and It looks like a burnt potion that stole a life for Itself. Its vaguely humanoid with long, sharp claws. You always knew They were out there, but you never suspected they would attack so soon.

It runs out from your right and you can only watch as it rips into your friend. It tears through their ribs and rips out chunks of flesh. Blood splatters across your face, it's heat like a whip as it hits you. You hear screaming and only realise it's coming from you when it's eyes find your own. It starts stalking forward, but your other friend runs at it, yelling a war cry. He gets knocked down easily enough. You know there is no way for you to get out alive, it's sense of hearing is unbeatable, and the only way out is through thick underbrush.

You crouch down and pick up a stone. Your eyes find the gun strapped to your friend's hip, and with the undeniable knowledge you will die, you throw the stone at the creature.

It hits. Hard enough to disorientate it. You sprint forward and grab the gun, running back to relative safety. It growls at you and starts running forward. You raise the gun and fire.

It's dead.

There is a hole blown straight through it's head. You doubt the sight of his jaw unhinged, ready for your flesh, will ever leave your mind. The sky opens up above you, and you get ready to leave.

You can't bury them, you have no time. More of the creatures will come, attracted by the scent of blood. You can only grab some supplies. Food, water, some more bullets.

You leave, without looking back. They have found peace now. No longer fearing for their lives every second. Hopefully, you can find peace soon. Hopefully, all of the creatures will be killed and you can go back to living a normal life.

But's that's a foolish hope, a horrible hope to have.

It's an impossible hope.

You walk through the woods and pretend the wetness of your face is from the rain, and not from the tears you can feel leaking out.

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