#favourite death

Having just dropped off her next meal in her nest, she moved through the trees, following two noises, one seemed vaguely familiar. But before she could process that the hunger was consuming her again and she was on the hunt.

The smell of smoke and gasoline filled her senses. It was here, the monster with the burning flames. Something other than hunger filled her. Anger. Red, hot, raging anger and she screamed.

She stalked through the trees, quiet and quick. They were being quiet but she could still hear them, still smell the stench of the monster that was so dedicated to hunting her. She tore through the snow toward the sound.

Silence. She froze. Listening, watching.

Movement. She sensed movement. She ran toward it. Her anger fuelling her.

There it was, there was the monster. She leapt out of the way as it’s fiery breath shot out toward her, finding shelter in the tree branches.

From up high she watched them. She could feel their fear, their panic and it fed her anger.

It hunts us. It kills us.

Something inside her was screaming, giving her drive, giving her strength.

She leapt out of her hiding spot, across the clearing sweeping her claws through the air. She felt as she cut through flesh and bone. Felt the heat and wetness of the blood on her hands. She could smell it in the air too, the blood, the death, flesh, meat.

The monster was dead but there was another one and she could smell the fear on it, fresh and terrified.