20200311

Day 2,013

Its matted fur ran with something viscous and oil-slick, the air smelled like iron and petrol. All eighteen eyes were fixed on the lowly group of soldiers who would never have been prepared enough to face it, let alone try to kill it.

And it knew this.

With a moist snap, the fur beneath its eyes parted to reveal a circular mouth full of smooth-edged teeth meant to crush and grind. From what little video evidence had been recovered from the leftovers of the last team, it was very good at using those teeth to cripple its prey.

It liked gently herding them to water and waiting for them to drown.

Teeth like that weren't meant to rip or tear tough meat but after enough days in the stagnant remains of the pool beneath its current lair even the stringiest tendons softened up nicely. It was hard to say how long it had been doing this or how many bodies were in the depths of the soup-like lake of decay.


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